Visions of a Doomed Future

The Song of Amergin had landed right in the centre of Remmus Retniw's rain-soaked moorlands, in the middle of the night and during the planet's worst autumn on record. Marie, who had been against this little side trip from the start, had warned her captain repeatedly of the dangers facing a ship of their tonnage on such unstable ground. But Jack Finnigan was not to be dissuaded, just as stubborn as he always was. This was quite the side trip for a captain's whim, a good few thousand light years from where they were supposed to be. For some unelaborated reason her captain had insisted that they land in these very specific but isolated co-ordinates, just over the horizon from the Brigadotian palace.  Marie herself, though not particular fond of the Brigadotians or their ways, could find no fathomable reason why they should need to hide the presence of the Amergin from them. Generally speaking these people kept out of watch business, and as a result had become a safe haven for enterprising villains and rogues alike. There was no reason for them to be so far out and away from any hint of civilization.

Jack himself had deliberately vague and obscure about their reasons for being there. When Marie had pushed him for an explanation his mumbled responses consisted of “package”, “smuggle” and “urgent”, and gave nothing away. He’d left alone, in the dark of the moor’s night, covered by a hooded poncho that hid his face in shadow. Standing on the cargo bay ramp, sheltering from the rain, Marie had watched him go and had remained curious about the trudging determination that drove him solo across the wasteland. No weapon; no communicator. If this was some sort of shady deal then it was going to be a bad one. Nothing good ever came from going alone and unarmed. She couldn’t help but be tense with worry.

The bridge officer sat alone in the cockpit, tapping her fingers incessantly against the dashboard to occupy her nervous energy. He had been gone so long now. She gazed out at the blue-black sky, which remained dark in the absence of the ship’s exterior lights. Jack had instructed they be extinguished on his departure. He was going to get lost, she could feel it. He was going to fall down a hole in the dark and break his legs. The crew shared her uneasiness at this point. Rumours had spread about a cargo so precious that it would drive the captain out on his fevered quest. The Brigadotians were known for their luxury. Could it be Nioro cigars?Tiger Whisky? Maybe something for a specific buyer, a jewel or an ancient heirloom? Kidnapping the latest model of droid was not beneath him. It had to be something wonderful, something he would no doubt share with them all. But the waiting was getting hard to bear.

After another hour, Jack returned, soaked through and boots caked in mud. It had taken him longer than he’d expected to navigate the moors in the dark, but then it had been so many years since he had been here last. Yet, despite the obvious hardships of his trek, he remained in a glowing good mood. As Marie came to meet him on the ramp, he clutched the wrapped bundle hidden beneath his poncho closer to his chest. He tried not to show his defensiveness of it to Marie.
      “You got it?” She asked, arms folded, “Your package?”
He grinned at her.
      “Set co-ordinates for anywhere but here.” He ordered, swiftly, “Full burn on the engines until we leave the system.”
      “Aye, sir.” She responded instinctively, “But… the package?”
      “Later,” He shirked, too tired to hide his urgency,”Full burn, Marie. I’m going to my quarters.”

Jack felt his ship pitch for take-off as he finally reached the safety of his room. He shut the door securely behind him before moving to the bed to catch a glimpse of his prize. His most precious cargo to date. Resting the bundle gently on the mattress, he began to unwrap it. From within the centre, something stirred gently. He peeled away the last layer of cloth and a grin spread across his weathered cheeks. Waking from sleep, and staring at him with large brown eyes, the baby girl grasped at his large finger with the whole of her tiny hand. In the quiet of his room, she refused to look away.

      “That’s a good girl, my Katie.” He soothed, picking her up from the bed to cradle her, “Welcome to the crew.”