by Jay Allan
They must bribe a hundred people, no, probably more—navy, law enforcement…mob leaders…
The Samis shipyards, and the other facilities orbiting the seventh planet offered services for people who needed discretion.
And there is a medical facility there.
No one had spoken since she’d uttered the name. Now, she spoke again, and asked the only question that remained as far as she was concerned.
“Can she make it that far? To Samis? Can we get her there in time?”
Doc didn’t answer right away. He didn’t answer at all. He just nodded, an affirmative response of sorts, but one that didn’t particularly inspire confidence.
Andi wasn’t sure what to do, and flashes of previous times, when Captain Lorillard had faced seemingly impossible situations, and led them all through to the other side, danced around the fringes of her mind. She was in command now, and she realized Lorillard had left her more than the ship. He’d left her responsibility. Responsibility for his people. Her people.
She knew the faces staring at her were waiting for her to decide, to lead them. And the stubbornness and grim determination that had driven her survival back in the Gut, that had taken her from that industrial hell into a new life, kicked into gear.
“Barret, get down in engineering.” Taking Yarra’s place…
She turned toward the others. “We’re taking off as soon as we can. We’re going to Samis.”
* * *
“Samis control, this is the Free Trader Pegasus, requesting immediate landing clearance. We’ve got a medical emergency aboard. We need transit to the infirmary to meet us at the landing slot.” Andi paused. She didn’t really know the protocol for approaching the mysterious renegade base. She’d only been there once before. But she figured knowing somebody was probably the best way to get in. “Please advise Durango that I am requesting a meeting as soon as he is available.” She’d had a sense the shipyard manager was more highly placed than he pretended in the operation of the network of orbital stations around the frozen planet. Hopefully, dropping his name would get her people in again.
“Pegasus, you are cleared for immediate approach, on vector A9. Land at bay seven. Medical transport and a security detachment will be waiting for you.”
Andi nodded gently. Durango’s name had seemed to help…maybe he was one of the real powers behind the installations at Samis. It would be helpful to have a contact so highly-ranked on the mysterious facility.
She was less than thrilled with the last bit about a ‘security detachment,’ though.
“Acknowledged, Samis control.” Andi reached out and took the controls, easing Pegasus’s thrusters, pushing the almost-stationary vessel forward. Her screen shifted its picture suddenly, showing a schematic of the station, with a blinking ‘seven’ next to one location.
Bay seven, I presume…
It had taken some serious computing power to penetrate Pegasus’s defenses sufficiently to take control of her screen that way. Are they trying to tell me something? To behave? To keep my mouth shut when I leave? Both?
She was a bit angry, too. She didn’t like anyone messing around with her ship—and Pegasus felt completely like hers now, though it had been less than a year since she’d first taken the helm as captain.
She eased the ship forward, biting back hard on the simmering anger. Durango had been one hundred percent straight with her, both on the repairs he’d conducted on the ship and as broker in the disposal of the old tech artifacts that had paid to put Pegasus back into operational condition. And she needed help. Yarra needed help. Andi knew she didn’t have the luxury of being angry, nor of asking any questions.
She watched as the station appeared on her screen as a visual, and then as Pegasus approached a row of massive hatches, all closed save one. She tapped the throttle to the side, pulsing the maneuvering jets to bring the ship on a direct line to the bay. The AI could have landed the ship—and she suspected Samis control could have as well. But sitting at the controls herself made her feel somehow better. She’d brought Yarra this far, and it was on her to see it through, get her friend the help she needed.
It was also a way of asserting her own control, even if, as she suspected, it was mostly illusion.
She hit the deceleration thrusters, slowing the ship to a crawl, and she eased Pegasus into the bay, sliding into the stabilizer brackets with a smoothness that sent a message to those on the station watching.
At least she hoped it did. She hated feeling as powerless as she suspected she was just then.
There were a series of loud clangs, as the large supports connected to Pegasus’s hull, holding the ship firmly in place. A few seconds later, a docking column extended toward the ship’s airlock and locked into place. Then, a chime sounded, Pegasus’s AI confirming that conditions outside the airlock were safe.
Andi got up, turning and leaning down over the comm unit. “Barrett, get up here and meet me in the airlock. We’ll go out and make sure everything is okay.” And what the hell are you going to do about it if they’re not?
She had the urge to go to the weapons locker and grab some heavy ordnance. But instead, she unhooked her belt and dropped the holstered pistol she still carried onto her seat. She knew better than to go into Samis station armed. The station was no District dive, someplace with creaky sixty year old detection equipment she could game to sneak a few guns past.
She walked down toward the airlock, and she began the opening sequence, even before Barret got there. She wouldn’t go so far as to say she trusted Durango, but he’d been straight with her before and, besides, she’d already bet all their lives on him anyway. If she’d brought Pegasus into some kind of trap, Barret standing next to her—or every weapon in Pegasus’s arsenal—weren’t going to make a damned difference.
The inner door slid open immediately, and she stepped inside, Pegasus’s gunner, and now makeshift engineer, running up a second or two later. Andi reached out and tapped the controls—she could have just as easily ordered the AI to open the outer door—and she stood there for a moment, looking out on one of Samis’s docking bays, cold gray and empty, save for the portable med pod surrounded by two white-coated medtechs, and behind them, the somewhat weary-looking and bedraggled figure of none other than Durango himself.
“Andi…it is a pleasure to see you again. I hope you’ve taken good care of our handiwork. That old rustbucket of yours was in sorry shape when you got her here last time.”
Andi fought back a smile. She’d have managed one for Durango, if she didn’t have a grievously wounded shipmate, and if Carmichael’s treachery hadn’t cost her a small fortune in lost loot. She had enough in her reserve accounts to pay the docking fees, and most, at least, of the medical expenses, but somewhere in her mind, behind the worry for Yarra and the others who were wounded—not to mention whether she really could trust Durango—another thought bounced around.
She was on her way to dead broke.
Again.
“The ship’s fine, Durango, but some of my people need help.” She turned toward Barret, ready to send him back to tell Doc to bring Yarra out, but before she got out a word, a motorized gurney came rolling down the small ramp. It moved past her, Doc walking just behind it.
Durango motioned toward the medtechs, and they moved up, adjusting the mobile stretcher and carefully moving Yarra into the pod. Without a word to anyone, they activated the pod, and the top door slipped shut as the whole mechanism began to move.
Andi felt the urge to chase after the pod, but Durango’s voice stopped her. “She’s in good hands, Andi. We’ve got top shelf med facilities here. We get a fair number of folks who need discretion, as you know, and sometimes they need more than their ships fixed up.” A brief pause. “I take it the rest of your people in need of care are walking wounded. If you bring them out, they can follow along. We’ll have them patched up in no time.”
Andi turned and nodded to Barret. He raced up the ramp and came down again a moment later, le
ading every member of the crew who’d suffered anything more than a cut or scrape in the fight. She watched as they walked off—in some cases, limped off—and then she looked back at Durango.
“Thank you.” It was all she could think to say. Andi didn’t like needing anyone, certainly not anyone outside her inner circle.
“You’re welcome. We like to think we have a good relationship with our clients. Discretion is a two-way street, Andi, and as far as I’ve heard you haven’t uttered a word to anyone about what we did for you. If that’s an example of the way you operate, I believe we can have a long and fruitful relationship.
Andi almost snorted. Durango didn’t have any real idea what made her tick. She was a lot of things, a killer when need be, a pirate by many standards…but Andi Lafarge knew how to keep her damned mouth shut. Someone could make her talk, probably, but there wouldn’t be much left of her by the time they managed it.
“As long as that remains two ways, Durango…”
“Of course, Andi. Discretion is our primary service.” A pause, as Durango looked at Andi and clearly saw the worry in her eyes. “Try not to be too concerned about your friend. If you were able to get her here alive, I would be very surprised if our medical staff couldn’t help her. I am sure you want to run right over to the infirmary, but I can assure you that would serve little purpose. I am sure she will go into surgery almost immediately, and you will be sitting pointlessly for hours. Perhaps we can use that time more productively.”
Andi wasn’t sure if Durango was worried about payment—and perhaps he had some cause to be—or if he had something else he wanted to discuss. He portrayed himself as a shipyard managed, but there was more to him than just that, she’d have bet almost anything on it. She had no idea what, but there was something her Samis contact was hiding.
“Of course, let’s go and have a chat.” Andi wasn’t exactly comfortable, but she found herself wanting to know what Durango had to say.
And how much trouble it was likely to mean for her and her people.
Chapter Four
Samis Station Three
Orbiting Ventica VII
Year 302 AC
“Your shipmate is out of surgery, Andi, and she is doing well. She was very badly hurt, however, and she will require more treatment and a lengthy recovery period…and possibly more surgeries. But she is out of danger, and she will survive.”
Andi had watched as Durango scooped up his headset when the call came in, rather than putting it on the speaker. Her natural suspicion flared up, and for an instant, she suspected some kind of treachery. Then, she realized Durango had probably not been quite as certain Yarra would survive as he’d led her to believe. He’d wanted to hear it himself first if she had died, and the flash of anger Andi felt at the well-meaning deception was quickly washed away by her relief.
She was angry again, at the deception this time, but that only lasted a passing instant, and she realized Durango’s massaging of the truth had been a mercy as much as a way to manage her. And the news that Yarra was going to live overcame any remaining bad feeling.
Though, she wondered about that ‘long’ recovery, and just how fully recovered Yarra would be when it was over.
“Thank you again for all your help, Durango. This is the second time you’ve done exactly what you said you would, and I trust you understand what a minority of the human race that places you within.”
The shipyard manager—and something more, Andi suspected—nodded and smiled. “Thank you, Andi. I believe that you, too, are trustworthy…which is why I want to tell you about a prospective mission. I’ve been retained to find a ship and a crew to undertake a…difficult…operation.”
“And you couldn’t find anybody else desperate enough to take it on?” Andi smiled, but she was only partially kidding.
Actually, she wasn’t kidding at all. And she was desperate, something she’d tried to hide from Durango, an effort that had obviously failed. Of course, asking him to wait on doing a full refuel on Pegasus until Yarra’s medical bills came in had been a dead giveaway. Andi Lafarge was a lot of things, but a deadbeat wasn’t one of them. If half a load of fuel was all she could afford, she would make do with that.
“I’d normally joke with you, Andi, but not this time. It is a dangerous mission, so much so that several other crews have turned it down. When you hear the details, you may want to pass on it as well. But there’s one thing about it that’s not risky at all…the payday. You’ll get a hundred thousand credits just for going, even if you come up empty. All you’ve got to do is take some verified video to prove you were there, and the cash is yours. And if you find what my client is looking for, it’s worth half a million to you and your crew. Confederation physical credits, too. Pure platinum eagles.”
Andi had always been told she had a hell of a poker face, but she was sure she’d given away her reaction at what she’d just heard. By the time she paid for her people’s medical expenses and put some fuel into Pegasus, she’d be hard pressed to buy breakfast. Half a million credits—even a hundred thousand—seemed like a vast fortune to her just then. And a mission with no risk, at least none of coming up empty and limping back truly broke, without even the ability to reprovision the ship, was just what she needed. She was an adventurer, a gambler in her gut, but she also knew not to bet what she couldn’t afford to lose. Sitting in some spaceport on Dannith, worrying about Carmichael and his people, without enough to pay for fuel or even docking fees didn’t seem like an attractive proposition. If Durango’s deal was legit, she could get her finances in order, and guarantee her people a nice payday.
Assuming they made it back, of course.
“I want the hundred thousand upfront.” It was a bold thing to say, audacious almost to the point of insanity. She had a good reputation as far as Badlands prospectors went, but she was also fairly new to running the show on her own, and she still traded on Captain Lorillard’s bonafides as well as her own, more limited track record.
Translation: No one in their right mind was going to hand over a hundred thousand to her on a promise to go search for whatever artifacts the client wanted.
But she didn’t need a hundred thousand, not really. Just enough to get Pegasus properly fitted out…and maybe a little insurance in case she turned out to be wrong about Durango. If she got back with Pegasus all shot up and out of fuel again, and then she got stiffed…well, hanging the shipyard manager’s skin on her wall wouldn’t exactly solve the problem of having a battered ship and no coin to get it fixed.
Durango smiled. Apparently, he liked audaciousness. “You know that’s not going to happen, Andi…but if I recommend you to my client, I might be able to convince him to front you ten thousand. That will cover fitting out the ship, plus the special equipment you’ll need, and still leave a decent bit left.”
“Twenty.” Andi stared at Durango with cold eyes.
“Ten, Andi…and I said if I recommend you to him. He’s a good client, one I’ve dealt with many times. And, he’s not too forgiving of failure. I need your word, Andi—and I mean it. If you take this job, you will get it done, or at least you will come back here able to convince me, and whoever else you have to, that you did your damned best to get it done. I suspect you’re a dangerous one to doublecross…let’s just say we’re cut from the same cloth on that one.” He stared at her with an intensity she hadn’t seen before. For an instant, she wanted to turn him down, to cut and run and limp away with her people more or less intact and Pegasus half full of fuel. But she knew she didn’t have a choice. Dannith was far too hot just then to go prospecting for another job, and she couldn’t wait long for something either.
It was a tense decision, a dangerous one…but in reality, it was no decision at all.
“Alright, ten…and you do a refuel and quick refit of Pegasus on the house.”
Durango looked back at her for a few seconds, his face an emotionless mask. Then he started to laugh. “Alright, Andi, you’re one hell of a negotiator…even
if you are the next thing to penniless and hiding here with a price on your head on Dannith.”
That was a new bit of information, but one she couldn’t call unexpected. Her people had killed a lot of Carmichael’s men, and she’d managed to wound the bastard himself. She wondered if Durango knew how much the tightfisted gangster was offering for her.
Actually, it was helpful in one way, too, just another brick in the tentative wall of trust she was building with Durango. He could have grabbed her the instant she’d landed, or just put a bullet in her head, and collected the bounty.
“Yeah…I’ve got unfinished business with Carmichael.” A pause. “So, we have a deal? I especially want the positioning jets checked out and tuned up. If you’re sending me into the flaming shithole I suspect you are, we’re going to need every bit of maneuverability we can get.”
“Yes, we have a deal. But you’ve gotten all you’re going to get, so stop negotiating.” A few seconds of silence. “I’ll throw in the full diagnostic on the secondary jets…but that’s it. And I need your word, Andi. I mean, I’ve got to hear it. Now.”
“You have my word, Durango. When I say I’m going to do something, I do it.” That was mostly true, or at least it was when she was dealing with people she trusted. She’d lie to a pile of filth like Carmichael without a second thought.
That was the least of Carmichael’s problems. Forget lying to him. When she got back, she was going to finish the job she’d started. She was going to kill the bastard.
“Good.” Durango stood up and reached out his hand. “Let’s shake on it…and come back here tonight. I’ll have your money ready.”
Andi stood as well, and she gripped his hand. She liked people who kept their deals…and especially ones who were so prompt with their payments.
* * *
“She’s got a lot of guts, that one…but she’s pretty young for something like this, isn’t she?” A door in the back had just opened, and a shadowy figure stepped out from the next room. Andi had left less than a minute before. The man was tall, and his voice was deep, commanding.