The Story of Stevie Ray

[lilprego1]

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Stevie wished he could have kept one of those images of his son in the cell. Alfonso just showed him a new one every time they met, each image as heartwrenching as the last; Jimi, hands bound behind him, clothes torn to rags. Sometimes he would look at the camera with eyes that pleaded for mercy, other times he seemed to be cringing from what he must have expected as another blow.

Still, having them would have afforded Stevie the opportunity to glean some kind of details about where Jimi was being held. But would he be able to get any clues? It always seemed like the same dark cell, almost the size of a storage closet. That could be on a station, or a planet, or a ship or... Honestly, he could be literally anywhere in Sirius.

He was sure Alfonso wasn't using his real name. A team this organized wouldn't let a detail like that risk their operation. The man certainly had faint traces of a Hispanic accent, which could mean the Corsairs. It would certainly make sense. Jimi could have been shot down during combat with them while working with his beloved Hessians. Wouldn't they kill him immediately though? It was possible they kept him, though. They certainly had the resources (not to mention the ruthlessness) to pull off something like this.

And who says this elusive Alfonso even worked for the Corsairs? Too many questions, and not near enough answers. So Stevie discretely sought some outside help.

When The Hartford stopped at Mainz and the gold was unloaded (along with a few crates marked 'Plumbing Components' hauled by some seedy looking men and contained God knows what), Stevie sent out a few messages to some people he knew from his bounty hunting days. Most of his former colleagues were retired, but a few still retained administrative positions in the Guild. He knew he could still call in some favors and get help. After all, if anybody could help him with criminals, it had to be a bounty hunter.

With most, he just said he needed reliable help. He didn't know these men well enough anymore to open up to them. But when he made contact with his old partner, that changed.

Jeffrey was all jokes and reminiscence about old bounties. "You know Stevie," Jeffrey said, "you're the only white boy I ever really liked."

Stevie laughed. "That joke was old when you were young."

But when Stevie started talking about his problem, and the floodgates opened and he told Jeff everything, the man on the other end of the call got very serious.

"We're gonna get those bastards Stevie." said Jeffrey. "Let me make a few calls."

After a few days of back and forth he was finally put in touch with a gunboat captain by the name of Eddie Dean, who Jeff said was the man who would get it done. Eddie promised to meet Stevie next time he was in Bretonian space.

Some time after that, when Stevie was on the Kensington Shipping Platform offloading some engine components, he sent a message to Eddie. Stevie waited at his console for hours, but went to bed when there was no response.

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"...if you must mount the gallows, give a jest to the crowd, a coin to the hangman, and make the drop with a smile on your lips."