“That thing’s fucked, but it should hold for a while,” Sanchez said, his face and arms were smeared with grease and he wore a pair of welding shields over his eyes.
“Sirs, are there repairs I could perhaps assist with?” Squid said as it hovered above Kingsley’s right shoulder as if it were a pirate’s companion parrot.
Danick approached the drone and looked on with wonder. He was so green he’d never seen any tech outside of the boring stuff made available to junior recruits.
“How does it float?” Danick asked.
“It has a name,” Kingsley replied. “It is Squid and you may address it as such; otherwise, it’ll get a little cranky. Squid, why don’t you take Danick with you to the stern of the ship and see what kind of mess our friend Ernesto has made of the repairs.”
Sanchez flipped the welding shields up and narrowed his eyes. “You always were a sarcastic lizard’s-ass,” he growled.
“Better than a knuckle-dragging ape with body odor issues,” Kingsley retorted. The old man patted Sanchez on the cheek with his gnarled hand as he made his way through the mess. Sanchez wrapped his big arms around Kingsley, swamping him like a Koranian Conda wrapping its massive coils around a small mammal.
“Great to see you again, Babs,” Sanchez said as he hugged his old friend.
“You too, Sanchez… now could you please stop breaking my ribs, there’s a good chap.” The hunter dropped him and gave him a wide grin. Mach found himself smiling too at the reunion of his associates.
“While Squid and Danick are fixing Sanchez’s repairs,” Mach said with a wink to the big hunter, “shall we go through Beringer’s info and figure out some kind of plan?”
“Make me a brew of that good coffee and I’ll divulge what I know,” Kingsley said as he took a seat opposite Adira and Lassea. He placed his pile of papers onto the table’s surface and spread them out.
Lassea got up and fixed a cup of coffee for everyone and rejoined the group.
Mach, sitting next to Kingsley, looked over the information. Among the blocks of text were photographs of old tablets and carvings, all of them showing a gigantic, geometric ship. Each one was slightly different, featuring a range of armaments and other attachments Mach couldn’t identify.
Among the text were a series of coordinates listed in a table.
“These,” Kingsley said, running a thin, bony finger down the list, “are locations of the previous one hundred and twenty sightings of our Atlantis ship, including the last one at Orbital Forty.”
The crew stared at him, waiting on his every raspy word.
“Okay, so how does that help us?” Mach said, prompting him.
With a shuffling of papers, Kingsley pulled out a piece of paper covered with what looked like random scribbles.
“Doodles?” Adira said with a dry, unimpressed expression.
“Non-Euclidean geometry,” Kingsley said as though it were as simple to understand as an old game of noughts and crosses. “I applied one of my own filters to the coordinates and I found a pattern among the chaos. There was a signal just before it arrived at Orbital Forty. One of the Qerfs picked it up, but it was out of usual communication frequency range and was encrypted. I’ve… almost managed to decrypt the signal.”
“Okay,” Adira said. “That sounds… promising. So this location you’ve identified, what’s there?” She pressed the tip of the combat knife onto a hastily scrawled map with an inked circle around it.
“That, my new friend, is the last known source of the signal.”
Sanchez grunted as he used a wet towel to clean the grease off his face.
“What is it?” Lassea said, looking up at her new object of fascination. She’d barely taken her eyes off him since he’d come aboard, but Mach could see why. If any young JP wanted someone to look up to, to feel secure around, Sanchez was it… as long as Lassea didn’t get to know him too closely; she might not like some of the more… combat-oriented activities he had gotten involved with over the years.
Giving Lassea his attention before regarding the rest of the crew, Sanchez said, “We’re gonna need heavy arms if we’re to go into that particular contested zone.”
“Why’s that?” Lassea asked, her shoulders tensing.
“There’s a new trading orbital there. Built by some of the Lavernans more vicious families—the exiled ones.”
Adira snorted. “You talking about the rumors of the Black Swan? That’s just a Summanus tale. Most of the traffickers and other assorted scum would often talk about the runs through that sector of space. Rumor was that the Black Swan, aka Marlene Laverna, had set up an unaffiliated black market trading post. Anything and everything is up for grabs. No restrictions, and apparently the place is protected by some old horan destroyers that were signed for decommission before Laverna got them and armed them to the max with restricted weapons.”
“Well, that makes things a little more interesting,” Mach added.
“If we get suitably armed,” Sanchez said.
“Like I said, it’s just rumor. Might not be anything in it,” Adira said.
The crew all looked to Mach, who looked across to Kingsley. “You really think we’ll find something there?”
The old man shrugged. “Could be a complete waste of time. It wouldn’t be the first time I made a mistake analyzing a rogue signal.”
“Wait,” Mach said, grabbing the man’s arm. “This signal… it’s the same one, isn’t it? The same one you found during the war?”
Kingsley swallowed and nodded his head once.
“We’re gonna need a bigger ship. Lassea, set a course for Feronia. We’ve got some dealing to do.”
Chapter Fourteen
Three days into the L-jump to Feronia, Adira had finally decided on her course of action. She stood in the shadows of Mach’s berth, the blade in her right hand. It was cool against her skin. She’d waited years to be in this position, to fulfill the contract taken out on Carson Mach’s life.
Such strange circumstances life had conjured to bring her here in this moment. For years she had sat inside her solitary cell, thinking about what she would do if she got out. Which contract she would be compelled to complete first.
When she first saw Mach’s face, she couldn’t believe her luck. Perhaps Fortuna herself had decided to smile down on her. Given her previous run of luck, or lack thereof, she’d be a fool to turn down this situation.
All it would take would be a single cut across the throat.
Mach slumbered the sleep of a man on strong meds. She didn’t even need to try that hard. She could sing while she killed him in his sleep and he wouldn’t even know it.
The subsonic rumble of the repaired LightDrive pulsated through her back as she stood there, leaning back against the titanium hull. She heard footsteps outside in the corridor and knew them to belong to Danick. He walked with grace but with a lack of subtlety. When she killed him, she’d make sure she was quieter than his heavy footfalls.
Lassea she would leave alive. They would need someone to pilot the bodies back to Fides Prime for their burial. Adira wasn’t a monster; she’d let them at least be remembered by their friends and family first.
Mach coughed and rolled on to his side before falling back into a deep, snoring slumber. Adira ghosted forward, the blade slicing through the dark of the room until she brought it up to his throat.
She leaned over, smelling his scent. He always had a nice musk to him, she thought, remembering some of their more enthusiastic bed exploits. Her hand wavered for a moment, but she shut out the memories and refocused on the pulsing artery in his neck.
Just one slice and it’d be done; she’d have enough money to escape the Sphere and finally make her way back to Titan, the Sol system… her home world. She’d never felt at home here in the Sphere with the CW. There were too many rules and regulations—too much politics for someone like her.
Mach’s prosthetic eye opened and fixed her with a blue-glow stare.
“If you’re goi
ng to end me, get on with it, I’m bored listening to your breath,” Mach said.
Adira jerked back. Mach’s words jolted her from her trancelike state. Suddenly her actions seemed foolish, the games of some spiteful child. Before she could say anything, Mach grabbed her arm and pulled her over his body, dumping her heavily onto the bed. Quicker than she’d ever seen him, he flung his leg over her so he straddled her waist, pinning her down.
She still held the blade in her hand and brought it up to his throat as he bent his head down toward her face.
“Do it,” he whispered. “Run me through, right here, right now.”
Her breathing quickened as his weight pressed down on her. His heat flowed through her thin suit; her palms moistened with sweat. “I had a contract,” she muttered. “It seems the logical thing to do. It’s just one more death, after all.”
“And the crew?” Mach asked. “You’re not going to leave Sanchez and Babcock alive. They would avenge me. And then there’s Lassea and Danick.”
“What about them?”
“They’ve got more about them than you realize.”
The Phalanx-E shuddered with a violent lurch, sending Mach flying to the side and clear of Adira. She used the momentum to her advantage and pinned him, bringing the blade to his chest this time, the tip resting between his ribs.
“What are you waiting for? Just lean your weight down and fulfill your contract if it means so much to you. Don’t worry about the fact that it was me who got you out of that damned place.”
“That was a mistake,” she hissed. “I was there for a reason.”
“We’ve all done things we’re not proud of,” Mach said. Beads of sweat formed on his wrinkled forehead.
“No, you really don’t understand. I was there for a reason!”
“Enlighten me.”
She turned away from him, unable to look him in the eyes. All the while her blade remained exactly where it was, tip-deep into the flesh of his chest. “I don’t want to do these things. I’m compelled, Mach. It’s in my blood. In solitary, I was safe… you were safe. But then you had to bust me out. You don’t understand what you’ve unleashed. There’ll be repercussions.”
“Everything has consequences,” Mach said. His body relaxed beneath her. His hand gripped her chin and brought her face round in line with his. Their eyes locked. “You don’t want to do this, I understand. You have a contract, you’re compelled, you don’t want the reputation as someone who isn’t capable of delivering.”
The words hit her hard. The truth always did. But it wasn’t really her reputation she was worried about; it was the repercussions of not fulfilling the contract.
But still, she couldn’t deny her feelings toward Mach. They’d shared a difficult history together, and she couldn’t deny her emotions when he had got her out of the cell. He, among a few of her family, were the images that had kept her sane in that place.
“Who took the contract out on me?” Mach asked.
Adira’s hand gave way and she let go of the blade. It fell uselessly to the side. Mach still didn’t move, his eyes bored into hers, communicating everything and nothing with the micro-expressions of someone who she knew would have to know.
“I can’t say,” she said, lowering her head. “It’s not important now. I can’t go through it after all. I’m sorry.”
She grabbed her knife and spun away from him. Before she could leave, he lurched forward and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back to the bed. He stood behind her and held her close, his lips brushing against her ear.
“When you’re ready, you tell me. I will need you to eventually. You know that, don’t you?”
“What if the truth would be worse than me killing you?”
“I guess I’ll take that risk.”
“This isn’t a game of skillion,” Adira said, running her fingers across his hands as they interlocked around her waist. “It’s not a gamble where the only thing at stake is your eros fund. This would destroy you.”
“Is that not my choice to make?”
“So be it. But not now. If I’m staying, we need to remain apart. You’ll cloud my judgment and maybe next time I won’t be so weak.”
Mach let go of her. She turned round to face him.
“You’ll be needing this if you change your mind.” He handed her the blade.
Without a word she exited his berth and headed back to her own.
“Hey, Adira,” Lassea said, heading toward her in the corridor. “We’re half a day away yet; if you want to grab some more sleep, I’m just taking over from Danick.”
“It’s okay. I’m not tired,” Adira said. “Mind if I join you on the bridge? I won’t say a word. I just need some company for a while.”
“Of course I don’t mind. I’d like the company too. It’s all been a bit mad lately. It’ll be nice to have some friendly quiet before we get to Feronia and the crazy starts all over again.”
Adira nodded her thanks and followed the girl to the bridge, all the while thinking, The crazy has barely started yet, you poor young thing.
Chapter Fifteen
The Phalanx-E broke through Feronia’s atmosphere and descended.
Mach stretched and relaxed back in the captain’s chair. Readings on the overhead monitors were eighty percent red. He hoped the feronians would see the value in acquiring a new E-class shuttle, despite it being bashed up with a terminal drive.
“This is space traffic control,” a crystal clear voice said in Salus Common through the comms speaker. “Who are you and what’s the purpose of your visit?”
“Captain Carson Mach, of the Phalanx-E. We’re here to trade.”
“Please proceed to zone four; I’m sending you coordinates. Representatives will be with you shortly.”
Mach grunted and shook his head. Feronians were all business. Every time he visited here in the last twenty years, they always drove a hard bargain, and he left with a feeling that he’d come out on the losing side of negotiations.
Their landing position flashed on the screen. Lassea configured the digits through the holocontrols and the shuttle banked over a jagged range of mountains.
“It’s a beautiful place,” Danick said, staring out at the sun-drenched glistening green sea.
“You won’t be seeing much more of it, I’m afraid,” Mach said. “We’ve only got three light atmosphere suits in back. But trust me, it’s an industrial flea pit once you see it up close and personal.”
“Do you need us to do anything?” Lassea said.
“Sell the hell out of the shuttle to the feronian rep when they board to inspect it. Make sure to let them know you know all the specs. They’re going to look for reasons to knock down the price.”
“We can’t hide the damage,” Danick said and glanced back at the scorch marks on the buckled right side. “But we’ll do what we can.”
“They’ll try every trick in the book to knock you down,” Mach said and stifled a yawn. “Make sure Adira keeps a close eye on them.”
Sanchez, Adira and Babcock were still sleeping in berths. Neither of the first two had lost their spark. Babcock remained an exuberant anomaly, albeit a useful one that had identified the source of a signal that appeared moments before the Atlantis ship’s arrival. That was more than anyone else had managed to do throughout the years.
Mach decided to take Sanchez and Babcock to deal for a new ship because of their technical know-how. To have any chance of completing the mission, they needed the best bang for their buck in terms of weapons and speed.
The industrial area came into view along the coastline. Sun glinted off the roofs of twenty huge metal hangars in a uniform line between the mountains and sea. Fifty supply warehouses, organized in a neat grid system, sat behind them. The main city lay just beyond a spiked peninsula.
“The marshal’s giving them a contract for two more capital ships,” Lassea said.
“Doesn’t surprise me,” Mach said. “They’re second to none when it comes to constru
ction. I’m surprised the old bastard hasn’t taken the place over.”
“Why would he do that?” Danick said. “They don’t cause any problems.”
“It’s all about the fusion crystals. Feronia has abundant quantities, but the builders don’t control the supply. That dictates the rising prices whenever CWDF places an order.”
“The CW can afford it,” Lassea said dismissively.
Mach grinned at her naïve comment.
It would soon get to a point where a full-scale colonization would be cheaper. The CW and the Salus Sphere were all about peace and protection, but the level of protection depended on price and cooperation. If a new war started, and it seemed likely, the feronians would bring it on themselves if they supplied anything to the Axis Combine.
The JPs brought the Phalanx-E to a rest in zone four by the side of the hangars. Other small craft were spread around the three-hundred-meter long strip of terra-cotta bedrock. Ten were old CWDF block design, when they were less bothered with aesthetics. Three faded black horan warbirds, semi-circular in shape and relics of the Century War, were parked directly in front of them. Pirates were here, but that wasn’t unusual. It made sense that some would pool resources to get a larger, more powerful ship.
Two tall thin feronians, in wireless powered cobalt exoskeleton suits, trudged across the landing zone.
Sanchez walked through the cockpit, fastening the belt of his leather trousers, and squinted through the tinted window. “Ready to trade?”
“Grab Babcock and suit up,” Mach said. “The others are staying here and giving it the hard sell.”
Mach groaned out of his chair and followed Sanchez to the back. Feronia, unlike the other three planets in the system, had a breathable but light atmosphere. Most of the spindly workers, who were closely related to the fidesians, used exoskeletons to move around and carry out their work.
Sanchez thumped his fist against Babcock’s berth door.
Babcock immediately opened it and stared out with bloodshot eyes. Squid hovered over his shoulder.
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