by M. D. Cooper
Either way, I betrayed someone with the power to destroy me.
“OK,” I nodded, deciding that crossing an entire star system was worse than one gangster—albeit a very frightening gangster. “But with how things went on our way out of Chal, I set up an insurance policy.”
Penny’s expression grew cloudy, her dark brows pinching together. “Korinth doesn’t like to hear things like that, you know.”
“Yeah, well, once I realized what we were hauling, I decided that it was worth pissing him off if it meant staying alive.”
Penny’s hand came down on the table. “You opened the crates.”
I nodded, my expression entirely unapologetic. “Had to. Reeve had us dead to rights. I had to fake him out, which meant we had to use the crates, without their contents, to get a bomb onto his ship.”
“And then you decided it would be wise to double-cross us?” she hissed. “You’re a bit of an idiot, Jax, but I never took you for a suicidal fool.”
“Call me what you’d like, but we had to pop those crates. If we hadn’t, you’d never have seen their contents. Once we did, I knew my ship and her crew weren’t worth a fraction of the price you’d get for the cargo we were hauling—anyone wanting to keep us quiet would see elimination as a clear option. No offense.”
We stared at one another for long enough for me to get my beer and finish half of it.
“OK.” Penny finally appeared to have calmed down a little. “Tell me, then. What form has your insurance plan taken?”
“I only have eleven with me. Four are elsewhere.”
“Elsewhere?” she pressed. “Like on a DSA cruiser?”
“Do you think I’d be sitting here with you if Commander Sinclair found those things on my ship? That woman has it in for me like no other.”
Penny laughed, an authentic, not-evil guffaw—or as close as she ever got. “OK, fair enough, you’re not wrong there. She’s picked up more of our stuff than anyone else. You’re the only one who’s consistently gotten past her.”
I leant back in my seat and took another pull from my beer. “It’s a gift.”
“Back to the four items,” Penny prompted. “Where are they?”
“In space.”
She made a gagging sound. “What, you just kicked them out the airlock?”
“Now who’s being an idiot? They’re in a secure case with a beacon. I have the channel and their vector.”
“Where?” she rasped.
“Near the barycenter. They’ll be in a stable orbit for a few years.”
Penny’s eyes had grown cold once more. “How’s that insurance? I could torture the information out of you.”
I polished off the remainder of my beer. “Perhaps, but I also have a lot of info on the cores, who I picked them up for, and who I was to deliver them to. If I die, a lot of people are going to get a lot of really interesting details.”
“I don’t respond well to threats.”
I cocked an eyebrow, curious about her choice of words. “I don’t really care how you respond to threats—and only you would think that insurance is a threat—I care how Korinth feels about this.”
Penny’s lips drew into a line so thin I thought they might disappear entirely. “He’s not happy about it, that’s for sure. You’re just lucky I have a client who can retrieve those four items. All the rest have purchased smaller numbers.”
“See?” I spread my arms wide. “Problem solved. Once I get final payment for delivery, and am at a safe distance, we’ll send you the data, and your client can go fetch them.”
“No.” She shook her head, lips still almost gone. “You’ll retrieve them and bring them back.”
“Yeah…that’s not how the insurance works. If I come back with them, then what’s to stop you from killing me?”
Penny’s nostrils flared. “What’s to stop me from killing you right now?”
Shit, she’s getting irate. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe fifty or sixty million credits? You know I’m not trying to screw you. If I was, I could have just taken the lot to Paragon and made bank. But I didn’t. I came here and I was square with you. All I want is the ten mil I’m owed, and to be off Myka before I pass you the vector for the last four.”
She stared at me with unblinking eyes, her expression never changing. A minute passed, and I ordered another beer. It came, I drank it, then ordered another. All the while, I expected to see Korinth tear the door off the joint and then tear me limb from limb.
Or for half the people in the club to suddenly stand up and blast me into red paste.
But I wasn’t going to back down. Not because I had anything to prove, but because my crew looked up to me, depended on me. Because if this tradeoff didn’t go smoothly, then Fledge and his IS buddies—who had only fully ratified the deal minutes before I met with Penny—would throw everyone I cared about into the clink.
“Fine,” she finally said. “Korinth agrees to your terms. You’re going to get paid a percentage of the fee for each core that gets delivered, though. I need insurance, too.”
“Deal,” I agreed. “When do we start?”
“First courier will be on your ship in one hour.”
I nodded and rose. “Any concern over which item they get? There’s some difference between them.”
“No.” Penny didn’t lift her eyes from the empty glass in her hands. “Luck of the draw.”
“OK, I—”
She looked up with a steel in her eyes that killed the words in my throat.
“I’ll be seeing you, Jax Bremen.”
I swallowed, nodded, and walked out of the club.
Even though we had a deal, one that was laid out exactly as I’d hoped, I still felt like she’d just issued my death sentence.
16
COMMAND
Aboard the Victorious Strike…
I checked the time again.
It has to be going on by now. The Kerrigan has been in port for a day at least.
The Victorious Strike had reached Pilar Station, high above Lothar’s icy methane clouds, the day before, and resupply was underway. It would take another two days to complete, and I was itching to be out in the black again. Not being able to nail Jax to the wall was bothering me more than I expected, and the only way I knew to alleviate that angst was to board and punish some other smugglers.
There were still a few more ships trickling in from Chal, many of them delayed now, as they were required to portage across the occlusion.
I wanted to inspect every last one of them. I’d find something, I’d put someone in the brig. It wouldn’t feel as good as slamming the door on Jax and sending his ship off to be scrapped, but it would do.
The downside was that the next few years would be slim pickings. Trade with Chal would wind down, and while it would pick up between Paragon and Delphi, less smuggling happened between the two major systems.
On the plus side, once Delphi passed into the north side of the L, things would take a turn, and the DSA would get to flex its muscle in a way that the military hadn’t been able to for a century.
I was more than ready for that.
As I imagined future days of glory, a notice appeared on my HUD that a shipment of replacement SC batteries was going to be delayed by a day because of some other priority assignment.
I tapped into the supply systems and flipped through the lists of requisitions I had access to. A large amount of materiel was being diverted to a newly formed taskforce with the code name ‘Iron Lance’.
I flipped through the list of ships assigned to Iron Lance until I saw the Daedalus.
I could hear the laugher in Petrov’s mental tone, and suppressed a sigh, thankful that he put up with my frequent lack of decorum when I was out of sorts.
; This time he did laugh.
I mulled Petrov’s words over in my mind as I considered the possibilities. I had to admit that I too was surprised the Victorious Strike hadn’t been chosen for the mission.
And a little hurt.
I couldn’t help but be impressed. So far as I knew, MFPs were just a hair under the threshold of the maximum mass and volume jump threshold. At five kilometers in length and three wide and tall, they were, simply put, freaking huge.
In theory, ships bigger then MFPs could enter the dark layer, but they never came back out. So far as I knew, no one in the L had ever tried to jump anything bigger than an MFP—the knowledge of the limit had come with the original colonists who had braved the year’s long journey through the nebula to escape the never-ending wars raging outside.
“Fuck.” The word resounded in the confines of my office and I made up my mind to deal with the issue head-on.
Half a minute later, Petrov spoke again.
I was already in the lift, heading to Deck 11 where the gantry connected my ship to Pilar Station.
It was my turn to send a laugh over the Link.
I sent a mock gasp his way as the lift stopped and I stepped out onto Deck 11, pausing to give a cursory salute to a pair of ratings who were rushing by. They responded in kind, and I moved on, striding toward the airlock.
I snorted aloud.
Petrov signed off with a final chuckle, and I shook my head, glad that he put up with me.
At the end of the gantry, I called a station car and rode it around the docking ring to the closest maglev station. From there, it was a ten-minute ride across Pilar’s spire and back out onto the DSA command ring. Upon arrival, it was a short walk to Vice Admiral Reginald’s sector command offices.
I had to pass through a few security checks, and by the time I reached his outer office, I only had five minutes to sit and collect my thoughts.
All too soon, that time was up, and the admiral’s adjunct was directing me to enter the old man’s inner sanctum.
One of the things that was hardest for me when coming in from the black was that I was no longer lord and commander of my own domain. I was under someone else’s rule.
Out in the black, I had near free rein to do as I saw fit, so long as I got results. On paper, I reported to Admiral Rigs, but she was based much further insystem, and left any day-to-day issues to the local command where I operated. That meant Reginald.
My efforts reflected well on him because he was partially credited with the funds my activities garnered. It put Lothar Sector at the top of the heap when it came to outer Delphi commands.
I was counting on my part in that to earn me a favorable outcome for this meeting.
The admiral’s office was larger than my ship’s bridge and could comfortably hold a hundred people in a pinch. With just he and I present, it felt cavernous—though that was lessened by the thick carpet and wood-paneled walls.
His desk sat in the center of the space, with a seating area behind, situated next to a concave glass bubble that protruded out into space.
The view caught the northern tip of Pilar’s central spire, and beyond, the dark blue clouds of Lothar. I could see one of the floating cities nestled in the planet’s icy upper reaches drifting by, Delphi’s light glinting off its great crystal dome.
The admiral was standing next to the window, staring out at the planet, hands clasped behind his back.
“I have to admit, I expected to see you sooner, Commander Sinclair,” he said without turning.
There was a wry note in his voice, and I chuckled in response. “I’m a bit ashamed of myself for not spotting the build-up for Iron Lance sooner.”
“Well, you had a lot of reports to file.” He turned to meet my gaze. “And I imagine that business with Korinth is on your mind as well.”
I nodded. “It’ll be nice to finally take that bastard down.”
“Don’t count on that happening,” the admiral shook his head as I reached his side. “He’s slippery. This isn’t the first time the IS has had him in their crosshairs only to have things misfire.”
“Well that puts a damper on things,” I muttered.
“No matter if he is taken down or not, this’ll put a dent in his operations. Korinth is really just a supplier. The enemies of the state are the people he supplies. This operation will take out a dozen malcontents who would like nothing more than to make a buck off the demise of others. In some ways, people like Korinth are both necessary and useful.”
I swallowed and nodded slowly. “I suppose, but he’s far from innocent.”
“Oh, for sure. And I’d love to see him rot in prison, but he’s greased a lot of palms. It’ll take time. For now, I’m happy to see your work take a chunk out of his clientele and reputation.”
“I suppose it’ll have to do,” I nodded in agreement. “Too bad Jax Bremen will get away with his part.”
“You really have it in for that man, don’t you?” the admiral asked, an eyebrow cocked in question. “He’s just a two-bit smuggler.”
“He flaunts the law,” I hissed. “Not only that, he enjoys it. How many people has he murdered, I wonder?”
“Well, so long as he does it in Chal and not Delphi, it’s none of our concern—at least for now. To be honest, the IS is smart to bring him into the fold. He could be useful for the build-up in Chal.”
“I keep hearing about that,” I said. “What exactly is the build-up aiming
to achieve?”
The admiral shook his head and turned away from the window. “You’ll find out the details in due time. I imagine you can guess at what the politicians and upper brass are planning, but I’m not one to leak plans or speculate on such things.” He sat on one of the sofas. “Out with it. I know why you’re here, but I want to hear you say it.”
I took a seat across from him, slipped one knee over the other, and folded my arms across my chest. Unblinking, I said, “I want command of Operation Iron Lance.”
“You’re not flag rank.” His words carried no emotion. “And placing you in charge of an extra-system operation is outside my authority. Don’t forget. You report up to Admiral Alice. While I benefit from your frequent operation in my sector, you’re outside my chain of command.”
I shrugged. “And so is Bensen, but everyone knows that anything that happens within ten AU of Lothar happens only because you allow it.”
“Rear Admiral Bensen,” Reginald corrected.
“Yes, sir, sorry. Rear Admiral Bensen.”
The vice admiral’s eyes narrowed. “Even if it were within my purview to place you in command of something like Iron Lance, you know that a commander can’t run an operation like that. That type of operation requires at least a Major Commander.”
I had expected that response, and was prepared to negotiate down to a temporary patrol assignment that placed me with Iron Lance. I’d do it even if it meant serving under Bensen for the time being.
“I see that look.” A smirk formed on the admiral’s lips. “I can tell you’re not ready to give up so easily. I put in for a commendation when your actions uncovered those cores on the Kerrigan. That’s not what came back, though.”
“Sir?” I cocked my head.
“You’ve been promoted, Major Commander Sinclair.” He rose and reached inside his jacket, pulling out the triple moons of a MC 06’s rank. “Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on this honor. Admiral Rigs sends along her compliments, as well.”