A Clean Slate

I round the corner and hit a robed figure hard in the shoulder. Without pausing, I continue my hurried pace.

"Excuse me!" exclaims the man, sarcastically.

Ignoring him, I move briskly down the walkway to the station promenade, a large open area where shops are arranged in neat blocks. My surroundings are still unfamiliar; the 24th Crusade station where I am taking a "working" vacation is clean and well lit. People shuffle past me, none with any sense of urgency. Relaxing elevator music fills the air, dampening the sounds of chit chat from Amarrian shoppers enjoying themselves. People are at ease...

But I have a problem, a 280 lb problem that runs a tavern and whore house on my home station in Amamake. Nothing in Amamake is nice, per say, not the facilities and certainly not the people. Full of pirates, cut throats, and war targets, the border lands are where I feel the most comfortable. But I needed to get behind friendly lines and meet my corp. mates, and so I did. But now reality comes for me and reminds me that I'm not of this world. The fat man is a 'familiar,' an icon from my dark, cold existence, and he has information for me. I consider our previous conversation.

***

"Why are you calling me?" I ask, interrupting the fat man's incoherent blabbering.

It is early, for me at least. The excess spice wine I indulged in with my fellow PIE pilots last night caught up with me. The last thing I feel like looking at is the man on the comm. screen.

"Like I said, boss, I got the information you wanted," he says exasperated.

I try to blink sleep away. He is a regular informant on a variety of subjects, and I have no idea what he is talking about.

"So tell me," I ask crossly.

"No, no... can't do that, not on an open line," the fat man says, waving his hands emphatically. "This news is too big for that. You should come back so I can tells' you what I know."

I take a deep breath and say, "There is no way I'm going back to Amamake now. I'm enjoying myself too much."

The man rings his hands, correctly judging that was the end of the matter on my part. Then he throws a curve ball.

"I'm coming out there to tell you, then, boss."

"What? No, you are not! I'm on a 24th IC station," I retort.

"You will pay me good for what I know. See you soon!"

Before I can object further, the screen cuts out. I shake my head. The fat man is my best informant so I'll humor him. Still, this had better be damn good...

***

The fat man refused to give me the information over comms. While that irritates me, it is the wise choice for his health. Transmissions crossing the low security boarder lands are frequently intercepted. But he could give me more than 10 minutes notice before the garbage scowl he booked passage on is due to dock.

The fat man is a freed Minmatar. He has papers, but he will need an Amarrian to check him into a 24th Imperial Crusade station. Quiet and discreet are not qualities he possesses, and the fewer people who know I associate with him the better. As I turn the corner to the security hall, I glance at the hanging time piece... and slam straight into someone coming around the corner in the other direction.

"Watch the fuck where you are going!" I snarl, reeling backwards.

I look up to see Lieutenant Shalee staring at me in shock, her blue eyes wide. She sucks in her breath with a hiss and puts her hands over her mouth. I look down at the man I collided with, who I knocked to the floor.

Aw, shit...

Captain Vaarun, the officer who recruited me into PIE, looks back at me. What was going through his mind? From the expression on his face, I'd draw a weapon were I home in Amamake. My hand twitches toward the dagger hidden in my waist belt before I remember where I am and master the impulse. Vaarun and I hold each other's gaze for a few moments before Shalee interjects.

"Well, help him up, Swatyy," she says severely.

Only then do I realize I am still scowling down at Vaarun. Taking a deep breath, I offer my hand.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault," I say, making an effort to be contrite. It's not something I express well...

Vaarun takes my hand and stands up. He regards me keenly for a moment. Then his features soften.

"I guess this is a good thing. We were just talking about you," Vaarun says.

"Looking for you, actually," Shalee adds, glancing at Vaarun.

No one speaks. I arch an eyebrow.

"We were thinking about what you said last night, about not being able to get a living space on the station," Shalee says.

I try to recall what I said about moving to the station. Last night is a blur, and I was surprised that the PIE officers can hold their liquor better than many pirates. They drank me under the table.

"I made inquiries, but the station manager said there were no vacancies for the foreseeable future."

"I can help you with that," Vaarun says. "24th IC stations often keep some housing vacant for senior PIE officers. You don't qualify yet, but I can sponsor you."

"And you would do this for me?"

Shalee chimes, "We want you to have a nice place to live, especially now that you have a Lady to look after. Amamake is soooo grungy."

"And PIE pilots have a certain reputation to maintain. We need to avoid the appearance of vice or evil," Vaarun says, adding shrewdly. "If you have a place here, you won't need the room at Tribal Core Logistics."

"You know about that?"

"I recruited you, Swatyy. I know great deal about you and your prior activities," Vaarun says. "Look, you have a clean slate here. We all have reasons for taking the paths that bring us to this point. I just want to make sure you have the opportunity to do right."

People doing nice things for no reason, here is something new. And Shalee is right about Amamake being no place for a Lady, regardless of her history. Mi would like it here.

"The person I spoke with said there is a duplex in the Emperor's Corner that is unoccupied, but reserved. That is my first choice."

"Mine too..." Shalee says, under her breath. "Those places cost a fortune."

"Yes, those are reserved for us, but...," Vaarun says, glancing between Shalee and me, "perhaps you would like something very nice, but more affordable."

"I'll take the duplex. If you would be so kind as submit the sponsorship, I can put the necessary isk into escrow immediately," I say.

Vaarun pauses. I try to discern his thoughts. Why was he hesitating? Was he angling for something? Or is he just surprised someone who looks like I do has that kind of isk? Maybe if I offer something in return.

"I'm happy to offer a 10% finder’s fee, of course," I say, not realizing until after the words leave my mouth how it sounds.

"No, no," Vaarun says, shaking his hands. "I didn't mean that. I mean, those suites are usually reserved for high ranking officials, and even they don't rent them over the cost."

Shalee turns pink. I realize she thinks I just tried to bribe a Captain. I don't think of it that way. It is merely reciprocating a kindness, even if it is through a quid pro quo. But I do see how it looks, and right after Vaarun's talk about "appearances." Thinking quickly, I cease on a way to salvage the situation.

I smile and say with as much sincerity I can muster for a bald faced lie, "Please don't misunderstand. I meant for the Homes for Amarrian War Orphans charity you are involved in. I'm happy to make a donation in gratitude."

Shalee wears that same skeptical look she gave me when I tried the "for God and Empire" routine in the bar last week. She didn't buy that line then, and she sure as hell isn't buying this line now. Vaarun on the other hand... he blinks a few times, clearly doing a quick calculation.

"That... that would do a great deal of good in many lives," Vaarun says, before adding suspiciously, "How did you know I am helping war orphans?"

I half-smile, half smirk and say, "You are my recruitment officer, Captain. I know a great deal about you."

Shalee rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, giving me an accusing look that speaks for itself.

You are *such* a scoundrel.

"Normally, I wouldn't accept anything, but since it's for orphans... 10% you say?"

I smile.

"Yes, it is my pleasure to give back to those who are in such distress," I say, adding, "I look forward to spending more time among the faithful. I understand there is a code, a series of principles that we are bound by, and I don't want to do anything that..."

A shouting voice interrupts me, and captures our attention. I recognize that voice...

"Get yer' fucking hands off me! I've got my papers! I'm with Swatyy. I'm his man!"

A large man rounds the corner. He is dressed in a dirty white t-shirt and torn trousers. Long, unkempt dreadlocks obscure his face as he tries to make his way forward, but two guards hold him back.

"There he is!" the fat man says, pointing emphatically at me. "He will tell ya, ask him! Get your damn hands off me!"

Both Shalee and Vaarun look at me disbelievingly. I close my eyes for a moment and attempt to master myself.

"Excuse me a moment," I say, bowing stiffly before walking down the hall to where the fat man is detained.

As I approach, a guard steps forward to meet me. I adjust my robes to make the PIE uniform and insignia underneath visible. He salutes me, and I return the gesture.

"Do you know this man?" the guard asks.

"He is my charge," I answer.

"Sign here, please, sir," the guard says, handing me a clipboard. He takes a derisive look at the fat man and adds, "Would you like us to place a tracking anklet on him for his stay?"

"Fucking hell if I'll let you tag me like an animal," the fat man says.

I arch an eyebrow as I sign my name. Next to the "duration of visit" field, I fill in "10 minutes."

"I don't think so. He won't be here long enough," I reply.

The enormity of my history, my past becomes vividly clear at this moment. I can't pretend to be anything other than what I am, nor do I have any desire to do otherwise. It wasn't all lies; I do have a code, and they are aligned with PIE. A resolves hardens in me.

I will be true to my nature. I will not compromise. I will seek glory for myself first, and in doing so strengthen the Empire. The ends will justify whatever means are necessary.

I hand the clipboard to the guard and he looks it over.

Regarding me, he says, "You are aware that this man is in your custody and your responsibility while on this station. You are responsible for his conduct."

"I would have it no other way," I say.

The fat man beams at me. I scowl back and pull him away from the guard by the wall. Shalee and Vaarun whisper to each other.

"Tell me why you are here."

"Sure thing, boss, but we need to talk price first," the fat man says, perfectly pleased with himself.

"Price? You have compromised my position here. Do you see them?" I hiss, indicating Vaarun and Shalee, who were watching attentively at the far end of the hall.

The fat man gawks. I lean forward, stepping into the fat man's personal space, backing him against the wall.

"They are PIE officers, and they would think much higher of me if I rid myself of you. Hear me well, you barter your life with the information you claim to have. If I am not satisfied, I will tell the guards you are a Minmatar spy, trading information across the border."

The fat man went pale. It didn't matter if my allegations were true or not, and he knew it. He swallowed and began talking.

"It's about Morsus Mihi, boss. It's about them that killed you.”

My jaw clenches…