Coll Musak stepped out of the run-down
Mission Clinic and tried to think of a time when he had left that dreary
building with good news, but he couldn’t, so he proceeded to the tram stop
through the mist, murk and smog.
It was cold, and damp and the air was foul,
the smog was so thick that it was impossible to discern where the buildings ended,
and the sky began.
When he reached the Tram stop he sat down on
what passed for a bench, leant his walking stick against the bench beside him
and then reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a flask and put it to his
lips and took a swig.
“You shouldn’t do that you know, it’ll kill
you it will” A voice said from the other end of the bench.
He turned his head to see that the voice
belonged to a small skinny Gouveian woman of indeterminate age wearing shabby clothes,
who he had seen on the Tram several times before, but they had never spoken.
“It killed my husband” she continued “And he
was much younger than you”
He smiled and nodded then he took another
swig.
Coll was fifty-nine years old, almost sixty,
and he gave up drinking thirty years before when he met Silia, who soon after
became his wife, and he remained tee total, even though war and grief, until a
few weeks before that day when he was first diagnosed with a rare brain tumour,
inoperable.
There were treatments of course but they
would merely delay the inevitable, the prognosis was that without treatment he
would probably see his sixtieth birthday but definitely not his sixty first, so
he figured a drink wouldn’t hurt him
“I will just have to take that dear lady” he
said to her and smiled.
Coll was a big man; over six feet tall and
broad shouldered and despite his need to walk with a stick he still carried
himself with a military bearing and apart from Plasma shell remnants in his leg,
hence the need for the stick, and the fact that he was dying he had felt ok, an
occasional nagging headache but no more than that.
He had lost a little weight of late, not a
bad thing in itself he had been a stone or two overweight for a good few years,
and he had felt tired a good deal which he put down to his age, he wouldn’t
have seen a doctor at all but for the fact he had had an accident and been knocked
down in the street by a man running from the Prefects.
But in those few short weeks since the
initial diagnosis the pain had started, and it was getting worse, pain like he
had never known before, even when he was blown up in the war it didn’t hurt so
bad, and he was starting to look gaunt and skin hung loosely about his neck.
He thought back to the conversation he had
had with the Mission Doctor, barely an hour earlier, a man who looked older
than his years who smelt of whisky and peppermint and had tremors in his hands.
“You have a little time to get your affairs
in order” he said to him.
“But you will deteriorate very quickly”
“Just as well I have no affairs to get in
order” he had thought to himself.
He had no one to miss him or mourn him; his
passing would be as insignificant as a ripple on a pond.
Silia, his wife of 19 years passed away more
than ten years previous after a Legion air strike, and his only child Kered died
a few days later of his wounds.
He had lost touch with the friends and
comrades from the war and those friends he had made on Eikon Major were either
already dead or unable to recognise him, so there were no beneficiaries of his
meagre estate.
There was enough in his savings to deal with
his mortal remains but no more than that.
He wasn’t scared, he was ready to die, he had
had enough, his life had been almost intolerable since Silia died, lonely and
meaningless, but the last year had all but broken him and he was ashamed of
himself and that was something he thought would never happen, but he had
allowed himself to become a victim, giving in to intimidation and what was most
unforgivable of all he had become a coward.
After
flying the Spider Hawk to Eikon Major, Lyris and Zerrad parked at the space
port, then caught the Hi-speed Shuttle from the capital City Rendon and
travelled for three hours to the grimy run down former industrial power house of
Ditton, where they rented a Runabout.
The Skeets, Oshwin Lemik and Coll Musak were all from Shax and all
fought against the Legion in the Shaxon War, the Skeet brothers were fighter pilots,
Oshwin was Logistics Commander and Coll Musak was a Corvette Captain.
When
the war came to an unsatisfactory conclusion for the Shaxson rebels the Legion
exacted a heavy retribution which lead to some of the former fighters having to
turn their backs on their home worlds to escape the Legions punitive
punishments.
None
of them had any reason to stay when the war was over so even if the Legion had
been prepared to allow them to live in peace there was nothing left to bind
them to their birthplace.
After
leaving the Shaxon System they all went their separate ways, and it was just a
twist of fate that they had all ended up in the Eikon Cluster.
Oshwin
had been there the longest arriving within a year of leaving Shax and Coll
arrived a few months later, though neither knew of the others existence, the
Skeets arrived some years after that, but they had only learned that Coll was
in the system after Oshwin passed on a message to them from Vinid Cupra, comms
officer in the transmitter hut at the Odekka landing field on Achrem, to say
that he had been drinking with some Shaxon Grain Freighter hands, and they told
him they had met another compatriot in a shithole of a town called Ditton, on
Eikon Major, and whilst in his cups, he let slip that he was planning to kill
someone.
It was that news which caused them to act, he
was clearly in trouble, and that they had to help him because they owed him,
had it not been for Captain Coll Musak the Skeet brothers would be dead.
Which was why they were in Ditton, and they
had been in town for three days before they tracked him down, and they were
parked in the street when they saw him leave the Mission Clinic and watched him
cross the road.
They knew that Coll was a proud man, so they
couldn’t let on they had gone there to find him, it would have to appear that
they had stumbled upon him and make the chance meeting as casual as possible.
So, they watched him walk towards the Tram
Stop, then sitting on the bench and talking to an elderly lady and when he took
his second swig from his flash they drove towards him and when the Runabout was
parallel to the Tram Stop Lyris leant out of the window and shouted
“Captain Musak! Is that you? My God it is! As
I live and breathe”
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