Eventually they came to a junction where the docking arm met the space station proper. Rena Liachov led Ben into an air lock that cycled automatically.
“This is Brimex Commons,” she said. “It’s where guests are quartered when they come to the station.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Three weeks. We came to buy gear, but the bird we flew in on didn’t have the cargo space to take us back.”
“Did it take three weeks to make the transaction?” Ben asked.
Liachov shook her head. “I had business done the first day. But the Confederacy is short on ships. Can your vessel take us all the way home?”
“Yes,” Ben said. “The Echo is a Kestrel class ship. She can fly in hard vacuum as well as atmosphere.”
“A hybrid ship with room for passengers and cargo... That is rare,” the lieutenant said. “It’s fortunate for the rebellion that you’re on our side.”
“I don’t really have a side,” Ben said. “I mean, I hate the Royal Imperium, but we aren’t freedom fighters. We just took the job to get your squad home.”
The lieutenant had a strange look come over her face. A scar right at her hairline, which Ben hadn’t noticed before, flushed a soft shade of pink.
“Well, to each his own,” she replied.
They were in what looked like a lounge. One wall was taken up with display screens that showed a live feed of the space station from what Ben guessed was a navigation buoy. The image was focused on the space station with the twin suns in the distance and the huge solar sails spinning majestically overhead.
There were several sitting areas, and a group of hard-looking men and women were gathered in one. Liachov approached them, and they stiffed to attention.
“At ease,” she told the group. “This is Captain Griminski of the Modulus Echo. They’ll be taking us home.”
“It’s about damn time,” said a thick-chested man with a long, bushy beard.
“Get the gear together, Sergeant. When I get back, we’ll get everything loaded.”
“Copy that,” the bearded man said.
“We’ve only got six cabins,” Ben said. “Some of you will have to double up.”
“Cabins? Are you kidding me?” the sergeant exclaimed. “We’d be happy sleeping on the deck in the cargo hold.”
“We won’t be long,” the lieutenant said.
She led Ben away from the group. They left the Commons building and entered a dome-covered street. Ben could see movement in the distance. The dome above the street was transparent steel, or some other clear material. He could see factory buildings rising up on either side of the street, and above them all were the huge windmills.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Rena Liachov said. “It’s amazing what enough credits can do.”
“For sure,” Ben said, more than a little impressed by the view.
They stepped onto a conveyor belt that carried them swiftly down the street. Ben wanted to gawk, but Lieutenant Liachov was in a hurry. She kept walking and Ben was forced to keep up.
“Is Brigton like this?” Ben asked.
“There are cities,” the lieutenant replied. “But most of the planet is natural. Many people live subsistence lives out in the bush.”
“Really?” Ben asked. “I’m from Torrent Four.”
“Never heard of it,” Liachov admitted.
“No reason you should have,” Ben replied. “It’s a junk world. The Imperium almost slagged it during the war.”
“That’s too bad. But your people fought back?”
“My people?” Ben said. “No, my people barely managed to survive. I grew up in the salvage fields. That’s where we found the Echo. I spent more than a decade rebuilding her.”
“You built your ship from junk?” Liachov asked.
“No, she was one of the rare ships that crash-landed mostly intact. I had to restore some of the systems.”
“Is it safe?”
“It is,” Ben said. “Our pilot is one of the best in the galaxy. We’ve outrun the Imperium Fleet three times now.”
“Three encounters and you survived. That’s impressive, I suppose. Ever think about fighting back?”
“We didn’t have weapons until just recently,” Ben said.
“And now that you do?”
“We have obligations to the Confederacy,” Ben said. “After that? We’ll see.”
“We’re getting off up here,” Liachov pointed toward a tall building with reflective windows. The entrance of the domed street was wide and impressive.
Ben followed the lieutenant as she stepped off the people mover and headed toward the entrance. He wished that she would slow down and allow him to take in the opulent surroundings, but she was a woman on a mission.
They went through a lobby with what looked like marble floors and gold fixtures. Ben was staggered by the wealth around him. It didn’t seem possible. They took a lift that carried them up to the top floor, and they stepped out into a small waiting room. Rena walked to a display panel and touched it. An attractive woman appeared on the screen and asked how she could help.
“I have the Captain of the Modulus Echo to see Mr. Webb,” Rena said.
“One moment, please,” the automated receptionist said. After a short pause, she smiled and waved to Ben’s right.
“Vice President Webb will see you now,” the receptionist said.
“I hate talking to computers like they’re people,” Rena grumbled as she led the way through a set of large wooden double doors. Ben was amazed that the floors seemed to be polished wood, and the walls were paneled with another kind of wood. At the end of the short hallway was a door covered with tufted leather. When they were close enough, Ben actually smelled the rich scent of the tanned leather.
Rena opened the door and held it while Ben walked through. A short man with almost no hair and a round, protruding stomach hurried around his desk.
“Mr. Griminski,” the bald man said. “What a pleasure. I’m Len Webb. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Ben said, trying not to stare out the windows that took up one wall of the posh office.
“Well, have a seat, have a seat,” Webb said. “Lieutenant Liachov, it has been a real honor having your people here. Thank you so much for bringing Captain Griminski all the way up.”
“You want me to wait?” Rena asked.
“Oh no, that won’t be necessary. I’ll see that he gets back to his ship safe and sound. You are relieved of duty, as they say in your line of work.”
Ben thought the man sounded slightly patronizing, and the look on Lieutenant Liachov’s face was pure disgust. She turned on her heal and left the office. Ben watched her go, feeling slightly nervous that things were moving too fast. The vice president hurried back around his wide desk and dropped into a thickly cushioned executive chair that rocked back and forth.
“Well, it’s always good to meet a fellow businessman,” Webb said. “My sources tell me that your ship is independent.”
Ben nodded, not sure where the conversation was going.
“That’s excellent. I think I have an offer for you that might just make your day.”
Chapter 6
“Excuse me?” Ben asked.
“Hey, how about a drink? Have you ever had aged spirits from wooden casks? I’m talking real wood, not synthetic fiber. It’s incredible. Here, let me pour you a glass.”
He swiveled in his chair and opened a crystal bottle with an ornate top, then poured two glasses of dark liquid. When he turned back around, he held one of the glasses out to Ben.
“I don’t think I understand,” Ben said.
He took a sip of the liquor and gasped. It was like drinking liquid fire. The vice president of Brimex Solar Systems chuckled as Ben’s eyes watered. The liquor scorched his throat and sent a heat wave radiating through his body. Ben wasn’t sure but thought he tasted something exotic that might have been real wood, but for the most part, the drink was repulsive
and left his tongue feeling numb.
“Look, you’re a smart guy. I want to help you help yourself.”
“You want us to smuggle weapons to the Imperium?”
“Not to the Imperium, but to some Imperium-held worlds. For instance, you’re headed to the Briggs system. If you happened to stop along the way at, say, Yaki Station and dropped off a case of rifles, who would it hurt?”
“Yaki Station?”
“It’s just business, you understand? Nothing personal about it. I can keep you flying. We have all the Zexum you’ll ever need right here. Or, if you don’t want fuel, we can pay you in universal Imperium credits. There’s no law against making a living. We’re the partner your outfit has been looking for. We don’t mind when you take other jobs. In fact, we prefer it.”
“You want us to take weapons and drop them off along the way to the Briggs system?”
“That’s right. It’s smart on your end. You don’t want to be tied to the Confederacy after all. This way you have the freedom to say no when they suggest you go on some fool’s mission.”
The short man took a gulp of the liquor and waved his hand for Ben to join him. Ben took another sip and let the dark liquid sizzle down his burned throat. Nothing about the drink was pleasant, but he was surprised that it didn’t taste as awful as before. In fact, he hardly tasted the liquor at all. The heat was still enough to make him grimace, but it wasn’t as foul as he remembered.
“In fact,” Len went on, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you needed to cut Lieutenant Liachov off. The Imperium presence in the Briggs system is dangerous. I mean, if you run that blockade, it would be a miracle. Why risk your precious ship for that?”
“I’ll have to talk to my crew,” Ben said.
“Yes, yes, of course you do. She’ll have her people on board already. Why not come on and be my guest for dinner this evening? There’ll be plenty of time for your people to talk it over, and I’ll be there to answer questions. Say, two hours? I’ll meet you in the Commons. We’ve got some of the best chefs in the galaxy. You won’t be able to tell what’s real food and what’s synthetic.”
“Okay,” Ben said. “Two hours. We’ll be there.”
“Excellent, excellent. I look forward to meeting your crew.”
The short man hopped to his feet as Ben finished off the small glass of strong liquor. It burned in a not unpleasant fashion down his throat. The heat spreading through him was strangely relaxing and seemed to make Ben’s worries less frightening. Len slapped him on the back as he led Ben to the door.
“Opportunities like this don’t come around every day, Ben. I know you understand that better than most. I’ll see you in two hours.”
“Thanks,” Ben said.
He stepped through the doorway and put a hand on the elegantly paneled wall to steady himself. His head felt light and his legs were heavy. But more than anything, his mind was reeling. Len Webb, vice president for customer relations, had dropped a treasure in Ben’s lap. There was no reason the Echo couldn’t fulfill its obligation to the Confederacy and do business with the Brimex corporation at the same time. It was genius and exactly what they needed to keep flying. In fact, Ben wouldn’t mind working exclusively for Brimex.
He stepped onto the elevator and hit the button for the bottom floor. As the lift descended, he considered the one drawback. Running guns wasn’t any more illegal than helping the Confederacy, but perhaps it was more dangerous. Terrorist groups, gangs, organized criminal enterprises, and unaffiliated guerrilla groups would need the weapons. Some were even privateers, licensed by the Royal Imperium to fight the Confederacy. It would mean, in a way, working for both sides, but Ben had always considered himself independent.
When the memory of what the Imperium was doing on Mersa Prime, poisoning the very citizens it claimed to protect, he was forced to push it away. No one could deny the heinous nature of the Royal Imperium. They were his enemy even if he never declared himself a rebel. Flying an unlicensed ship was enough for the government to, at best, steal his vessel and imprison the crew, and at worst, blast them out of the sky. Working with Brimex wouldn’t lessen that threat in the slightest, but it might help them avoid the dangerous runs like the one that lay ahead.
The more he thought about the offer, the more conflicted he became. Leaving the building, he walked out to the conveyor belt running back the way he had come and stepped on it. His head felt funny, and thinking clearly was difficult. Still, he believed he was onto something. There was plenty of room on the Echo for extra cargo. And no one said they had to take the Confederate freedom fighters straight to the Briggs system.
But he couldn’t shake the feeling that running guns was somehow beneath him. He tried to tell himself that he was, in fact, running guns for the Confederacy, but there was a redeeming facet to helping an oppressed planet fight back against the tyranny of the Imperium. Running guns for profit might be good business—it might even keep their ship running with plenty of Zexum and extra credits, but it still felt distasteful somehow.
When he reached the Commons, he found Lieutenant Liachov waiting for him. She looked at him and frowned.
“You were drinking,” she said.
“How can you tell?”
“Your face is red. Are you drunk?”
“No,” Ben said honestly. He was feeling better than he had when he left the businessman’s office. “I only had a few sips.”
“So what did he want?”
“I can’t talk about it,” Ben said.
“Of course you can’t,” Rena replied. “Because that is how crooked people operate. Listen to me, Ben. I’m just a lowly lieutenant from a backwater world, but I’ve been on this station long enough to know the people who built this place operate without any morals or allegiance to anything but money. You don’t want to get mixed up with that.”
“What I want is to keep flying,” Ben said. “I want to make sure that my friends are safe, that our home is safe, and that we have what we need to make a life for ourselves. You’re from a backwater planet, well I’m from the trash heap. I’ve lived with danger every single day of my life, with no hope that things could ever improve. Somehow, by some miracle we made it off Torrent Four, and all I really care about is that we find a way to keep flying. If working a few jobs on the side make that possible, then I’ll do it.”
Lieutenant Rena Liachov looked at him for a moment with a mix of empathy and pity. Then she turned and headed toward the tunnel.
“Our gear should be loaded by now,” she said. “We can leave immediately.”
“We’ll leave soon, but I still have business to attend to,” Ben said.
“I thought we were the only business the Confederacy had on this station.”
“I’m not with the Confederacy,” Ben said in a quiet tone. “You understand?”
“I understand that you’re mercenaries. The kind of people who would stab me in the back to make a few credits.”
“That’s not true,” Ben said.
She whirled around to face him, their bodies only inches apart, her bright blue eyes shining fiercely as she spoke in an angry whisper.
“My planet is under attack. Every minute, no, every second that we delay our return, people die because they don’t have the equipment they need to defend themselves. So don’t stand there and say you wouldn’t sacrifice everything I stand for to make a buck, Ben Griminski. You’re no different from the slimy creatures that run this place.”
She whirled back around and headed off down the corridor. Ben stood watching her go. Guilt burned in his stomach and left a bitter taste in his mouth. Worst of all, he wasn’t sure what to do.
Chapter 7
When Ben returned to the Echo, he found the cargo loaded and secured with magnetic clamps. Magnum was talking with the bearded man and a few of the soldiers nearby. There was still ample room in the cargo hold for more gear, and Lieutenant Liachov was halfway up the stairs toward the main deck. Ben hurried after her and waved for Magnum to foll
ow.
He caught up with Liachov on the main deck landing. She was looking toward the bridge.
“This is the crew deck,” Ben said. “Your quarters are upstairs with the galley.”
“When do we leave?”
“I’ll let you know.”
Her eyes narrowed and Ben felt an air of hostility from her, but she didn’t reply. She simply turned and headed up the next flight of stairs. Magnum was behind Ben as he walked onto the bridge.
“Well, that didn’t take long,” Kim said from her pilot’s seat, which she had swiveled around to face the other consoles. “This bunch doesn’t drag their feet.”
“We need to talk,” Ben said, waving her toward him.
“Oh, an unexpected twist,” Kim said with a smirk. “What could it possibly be?”
Ben was standing near Nance, with Magnum on the other side of the small computer expert. Kim leaned over the console as Ben whispered.
“Is there any chance the passengers can hear us?” Ben asked.
Kim and Magnum looked across the atrium. There were no freedom fighters in sight.
Nance checked her computer screen. “No, the ship’s coms are disabled.”
“Good,” Ben said. “I met with one of the administrators. They want us to run shipments of arms for them.”
“What?” Kim asked. “Why?”
“Surely they have legal means to ship their goods?” Nance said.
“I don’t know why,” Ben said. “But I was offered Zexum and Imperium credits to make a few stops along the way to the Briggs system.”
“Wow,” Kim said.
“Are the shipments legal?” Nance said.
“Off the books, I suppose,” Ben said. “Otherwise we would be a liability. We aren’t a registered ship.”
“That was fast,” Kim said. “I mean, how do they even know we have room for more cargo?”
Jump Point: Kestrel Class Saga Book 2 Page 4