Chapter 2

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Chapter 2! Also prewritten (yay)!


Here goes nothing!

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After four months of wasting away in his office, Roland Jarik was about ready to resign.

A year ago, there would be stacks of case files littering his desk. Yet the promotion he got after that Gsajd VII case seemingly relegated him to glorified secretarial duties. Now, all that littered his desk was instant noodles and liter-sized bottles of EnergyPop.

The intercom screeched to life. "Patrol, dispatch. Unauthorized puddlejumper leaving port. b13u112. Lethal force is not permitted- stunsticks and tasers only."

Interesting. That generally wasn't important enough to warrant broadcasting it across the entire facility.

Three hours later, a light knock on Jarik's door interrupted his endless boredom.

"Enter," he said gruffly.

The door slid open and a woman in a dress stepped through the frame.

"Commissioner Vasilon. More datawork?" Jarik asked dryly before she had fully entered the office.

"Well... in a way." Vasilon replied. She tossed a PDA onto Jarik's desk.

"The UPRN Aurora Flare vanished from sensor sweeps two days ago," Vasilon began. "She was last seen here, in bay one, unit four, getting tanked up on hydro. So the UPRN called the ISB, the ISB called Flass, Flass called me, and here I am."

Jarik choked on his ramen. "The hell? What does the UPRN think I can do?"

Vasilon shrugged in the most uncaring way possible. "Not my problem, amigo. I just hand out the cases."

"Why was a UPRN puddlejumper out of Paragon? They're at war with half of their damn galaxy."

"Mercy call. She was trying to grab back-up from the Prythians. Which didn't work, so she stopped to fuel up at Isilon on her way to Caroki."

Jarik scratched his beard, swiping through the case files. "And the UPRN can't send their own people because that would be a violation of sovereign territory."

"Yep."

"The Prythians ain't going to do anything about it?"

"Nope."

"They're too caught up in their cold war to give a shit."

"Pretty much."

Jarik sighed. Fieldwork- finally.

Investigating the disappearance of a United Planetary Republic Navy warship. Not quite what he was asking for, but it would have to do.

"I don't have a ship." Jarik suddenly realized. "She was impounded a few weeks ago."

Vasilon cracked a grin. "That puddlejumper down in Bay 13? The Lexian. Her skipper... agreed to give you a lift."

"Filion? The Corrant jumper?"

"Yeah. The local portmaster had him at gunpoint, cause they don't like each other very much. Some locals called it in, turns out Filion had a couple mil in fines to pay. I cut him some slack, cause god knows those cargo jumpers don't get paid enough. Long story short, if he'd give you a ride, I'd stop the portmaster from shooting him."

"And the dispatch call-in was to give me an escort?"

"Ehh... more to make sure Benson didn't kill Filion while I wasn't looking. And so that Filion didn't try anything funny. It'll be impounded when you get there, but I've already transferred controls of the lock to you."

"Yeah, thanks."

"No problem." Vasilon said as she backpedaled out of Jarik's office.

As soon as she left, Jarik grabbed a quart of EnergyPop and downed the entire bottle.

It had all happened so suddenly Jarik hadn't had time to process it all. This had to be the biggest case of the month, if not the year- why would they hand it off to someone too old for his own good who had been out of service for 4 months? Ronan... they could've given it to him if a bunch of pissed off Muddies on the lower levels hadn't stuck a harpoon through his chest five days ago.

Puddlejumpers didn't just 'vanish' from sensor sweeps. No, something else was going on here. Jarik didn't really want to mess with anyone who had the firepower to simply remove a puddlejumper from existence.

Jarik slowly pushed himself out of his desk chair. The nearest maglev station was only a couple kilometers away. That would take him within walking distance of bay 13. He checked his sidearm- fully charged and ready to drop anyone who tried to harpoon him.

Well, there wasn't anything else to it. Filion wouldn't wait forever, no matter how many troopers Vasilon ordered down there.

Jarik snatched the bowler hat hanging beside him, slipped out of his office and jogged to maglev XIX.

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It's future me again!

On my crusade to cleanse my story of heretics- uhh I mean... problems.

(...anyone else a fan of 40k?)

Yeah!

I hope you're still enjoying!

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