Fiction Friday: Old Times 1.3

Previously:
0.1
1.0
1.1

1.2
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"Well," she began tentatively, "about four months ago Jace accepted an honourable discharge from the Navy and began a career as a private citizen capsuleer. He started working for the agents, busting up Guristas operations and the occasional Cartel drug depot, but you know Jace," she shrugged, "he's never very patient."

"That's an understatement," I replied.

"Yeah, nobody's perfect." She took a drink of her coffee and continued. "He had some friends from the Navy who got discharged around the same time and they started flying together on missions for the agents. One of them had a friend who had a friend who was a pilot for a corporation operating out of null security space. Turns out this corporation, Katana Securities Incorporated, is looking for pilots and long story short, invites Jace and his friends to join them."

"Never heard of them. I assume they are in an alliance?" 

"Yes, an alliance called Obsidian Swords."

I closed my eyes and groaned. as I could see where this was going. Obsidian Swords was a small alliance of capsuleers, about 150 of them, living in out in null sec somewhere in the Fade / pure Blind regions, I could not remember which. They had a reputation which extended far beyond their area of operations.

 "Let me guess," I said sardonically. "They asked for a small recruitment fee to join, offered to carrier jump all their equipment to a station in null sec, and then when they had all their equipment they kicked them all out of corp without giving their stuff back and blew up their ships as they tried to leave! Did I get that right."

"Jace couldn't have known-"

"Yes, he could have," I interrupted heatedly. "All he had to do was ask around and listen to people who knew better. But we both know Jace was not very good at asking for help. Too proud and impulsive for his own good." 

Cryst was starting to get angry at my abuse and gripped her mug so tight I could see her knuckles turning white. "He was not impulsive," she said with a clipped voice, "he was just too trusting."

"Whatever," I said. "Hopefully he learned his lesson, but I still don't know what this has to do with me."

She sighed and rubbed her eyes. She looked very tired all of a sudden and I felt a little bad for my antagonistic attitude. 

"He is impatient," she conceded, "so he flew out to the Obsidian Sword station before all of his friends did. He got there before the double-cross happened and had time to change all of his clone contracts to the medical bay at the null sec station. After he was booted from corp and the alliance, he gathered up everything he had left and tried to make a run for it but got caught and destroyed. Unfortunately, he was resurrected back at the station he just tried to leave and does not have any access to get his clone contracts changed."

I shook my head. "I've heard of that happening before, but again, its not a crisis. He just has to wait for a quiet time to sneak out in his pod if need be and make a run for it." I added, "worst case scenario he gets podded again and back to start."

"There is a war going on up there, no one can go two jumps without running into hostile warp bubbles and gate camps."

"Then he's just going to have to wait. You know, chat up locals, try to make friends, see if he can find someone to take mercy on him. It may take some time but its all he can do."

She sighed. "That's the problem. He doesn't have a lot of time."