He sighed deeply into the dregs of his glass causing the waft of alcohol to breeze back into his face. He savoured the aroma while he swirled the glass one last time. With a tip of his head he drained the last few drops that had hung to his glass. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly as he placed the glass on the bar top and was lost in the rainbow of colours that sparkled back at him. He mused it was almost as if it was mocking him in the universes ironic way.
It would be his last for a very long time he pondered. He rolled the glass back and forth between the tips of his fingers when a voice interrupted his reverie.
‘Another?’ it was more a statement than a question.
Debeallavre looked up from his flickering glass to see who the generous new stranger was.
A Caldari of all people he saw, the stiff but sharp cut of the strangers clothes cut a distinguishing figure.
There would have been a time he would have fought the stranger on principle because of who he was, then there was a time he simply would have declined the offer, now he felt resigned to die lost in the dark folds of this cold station, abandoned by his Gallente home state. He no longer had pride and a free drink was a free drink. His anger at the Caldari in general had burned hot for much of his life. But here, now, discarded like refuse his beloved Gallente state had left him to rot. Slowly in the dark recesses and grime of a Caldari station his anger has wrestled like a caged animal within him. At first it riled furiously against the injustice of the Caldari, soon followed by anger and then grief at his abandonment, until it spluttered and died cold and alone in the confines of a foreign space.
Well he thought, there is no such thing as a free drink, but he had nothing to offer so he had nothing to lose either.
‘Sure’ he shrugged but the Caldari had already beckoned the barman on his opening offer and it was served almost before he’d finished his reply.
Curious he thought, the barman would normally have taken a minute or so normally, even longer for a lost and destitute citizen of the Gallente state. This Caldari character must be someone of note. He cast his eye over the figure with a more interested gaze.
The Caldari didn’t proffer his hand, he simply started to talk.
‘Don’t tell me, I know the story. There was a war, you were displaced, some unpleasant things happened and now you are stuck as an unwanted refugee in a Caldari station. You eke out a living and hide in the dank corners waiting, always waiting, hoping, that the Gallente state will come to your rescue.’
The Caldari stranger smiled at him, Debeallavre felt the stirrings of burning anger that he thought the embers of which had long since died out.
‘But no, you are the unwanted children, an embarrassment, a reminder of a conflict lost. Your state won’t help you and the Caldari don’t want you. So in limbo you wait. So now, hear you are, stuck, with nothing, unwanted and reliant on the welfare of an enemy to survive like a filthy rat’
He paused. ‘I see a glimmer of resentment flicker across your face. Good’
He swirled his drink and savoured the aroma, pausing for annoying effect. It was working, he was definitely irritating.
Debeallavre slugged his drink back and wiggled it provocatively in reply.
The Caldari nodded at the barman and a bottle was delivered to the bar top and his glass refilled. He took a sip this time, calmed slightly by the warm glow he felt as it slid down his throat and that his petulant demand was meet without any hint of objection.
‘Annoyed with me yet, some condescending Caldari arse?’ the man in the sharp suit asked with a dry smile.
Debeallavre grunted a begrudging acknowledgement, finished his glass and reached for the bottle. He roughly filled his glass and glared at the Caldari.
‘Good, anger is good, its means you still care, it means you still have some passion. You know that I know who you are, and what I offer is simple. I work for the station. One could say elements we find growing in our station cause us concern. I am not one for idle discussions. You know I have an agenda, an offer. Quite simply it is this, do you want out?’
Debeallavre looked at him intently, what kind of joke was this, some suicide operation, a pawn in some greater game? He raised his eyebrow at the stranger.
‘I have a Badger at my disposal for a short time, fitted for passengers, with the offer of a free ticket to XXX for whoever can fit on board. The cost? Simply take my offer and tell as many as you can, and the station owners will be happy, no strings attached’. The Caldari’s smile was disconcerting and the offer alarming.
Debeallavre’s mind reeled, it couldn’t possibly be real, was this some kind of sick dream.
‘You’ve got to be kidding right?’ his first words for the day, ‘No one wants us, our own people won’t help us, why would you even bother?’ asked Debeallavre.
‘You grow in numbers, your colony as such attracts more refugees. Hiding in the lower decks and dark corners scraping a living leads to crime, soon followed by organised crime. When you get organised there is the elements for sedition, insurrection. So simply put the station owners wish to reduce their exposure to unnecessary risk. We see it as cost effective to help you. It was simply a matter of time until one side folded; you were simply pawns in a game of politics. One could say a transition point has been reached.’
It was a compelling argument.
‘Anyway, moving forward, the offer is there, pass the word, the ship leaves in twenty four hours from deck Whisky Echo sixty three. It can take as many as you can round up in effect, but it won’t be a pleasure cruise. I won’t see you off in person, but I will watch the proceedings, so as you Gallente would say, Bon Voyage.’
With that the Caldari waved his fingers at the barman and walked out.
Debeallavre paused, chewing over what he had heard. He snatched the bottle and dashed for the door before he woke from this dream.
The next day he Debeallavre stood in a packed cargo bay while the cold metal hull of the huge industrial ship stretched above the jostling masses. A drab crowd of subdued tones reflected the depredations the people had suffered with neglect. The cries of mothers’ shepparding children and the squawks of unsettled babies added to the cacophony that bounced around the metal walls. An aggressive Caldari Sergeant yelled through a loud hailer while armed guards lined the walls. Mustering slowly like a seething herd the people gradually filled the belly of the waiting ship.
Debeallavre found a cramped little space to call his own as he felt the ship shudder and move. He wondered if they would simply open fire on the vessel as it undocked with the station guns. Oh well, he sighed to himself, at least it would be quick. Then he felt the sickening lurch as the ship entered warp drive. A hollow voice over a tannoy announced ‘warp drive active’ and a subdued cheer and murmur burbled up from the masses crammed aboard.
He tried to doze through the sickening jumps and he lost count after his head starting swimming from half a dozen. He wondered how others fared and leading his thoughts fade he awoke to the scratchy announcement that they had arrived. ‘We are now in Gallente XXX and will be docking in a few minutes’ an emotionless voice informed them.
There were deep based rumbles and heavy metal clangs as the ship settled in the station. Debeallavre wondered what twist would follow. He watched the crowd shuffle expectantly towards the exit ways. He waited, holding his small knap sack, all he been able to grab of his former life. It held little, and he fingered a battered photo of his wife and two children. He wondered where they were, what had happened to them. He feared he may never see them again. Or worse still, maybe he would find them again and discover they had moved on and he was no longer welcome in their lives, that he was now a stranger and a tainted unwanted outsider. His thoughts raised bile to the back of his throat. He stuffed the photo next to the almost empty bottle from yesterdays encounter.
He filtered out of the back of the crowd and watched excited people scurry off in different directions. He paused on the deck and inhaled deeply. It smelled so different and he knew beyond all doubt he was now in Gallente space. An angry looking administrator thrust an official envelope at him. He turned it over smiling ruefully at the Caldari logo. Who’d have thought the Caldari would get him home when his own state seem indifferent to the refugees plight. No wonder the official was so irritable about delivering it to him. He pealed it open and there was a simple type set note, the name of his wife and an address. A huge grin spread across his face for the first time he could remember. That smug Caldari may have seemed like a bastard, and no doubt he was, but he was an oddly helpful one.
He was soaking in the sights, smells, sounds of being in home space once again even though it was only a docking bay. He thought he would savour one last celebratory drink before he set off in search of his family. He retrieved the bottle he acquired just over twenty four hours ago and the glass he had souvenired. He poured the remnants into his purloined glass and savoured the rich colour of the exquisite liquid. Enjoying a little celebratory triumph he cast his gaze around which was caught by the flickering movement of a vid screen. Not paying much attention to the flittering images he did a double take when he could have sworn he saw his Caldari visitors face from yesterday in the background, behind some important people spealing more meaningless words.
He walked towards the screen so he could better hear what was being pushed. Talk of the generous Caldari state, the failure of the Gallente both militarily, and humanitarianly to support their people, or citizens as the Caldari like to refer to them. Then it cut to a debate in the Gallente parliamentary chambers, angry exchanges rocked the room which boiled over into physical conflict. Cutting away again armed riot police battled with angry mobs outside the chambers and the news cut back to describe what they called a significant political humiliation for the current congress.
He laughed, now he knew the price of his free drink. After being cast adrift his free ride was paid for by the humiliation of his own countrymen. He was surprised to realise he no longer cared. Once a staunch patriot, he was now just a person trying to get along in his own best way in a cold and dark universe.
Here’s to all the arseholes in this universe he thought to himself as he raised his glass in a mock salute to the vid screen. He threw the empty glass into the nearest disposal unit with a satisfying sound of breaking glass, ‘To hell with them all’ he muttered under his breath as he set off to find his family.
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Topic: A free drink (EVE fiction) (Read 1033 times)