"Deetz...." It's voice was low and sibilant, exaggerating the sss sound greatly. It also spoke with an obvious disdain for the synth. "So where, exactly, is Klegsh?" Deetz looked nervously from the speaker to the two armed figures of the same species behind him before answering.
"There were some... complications... on the last run. The crew never made it back to the ship. I made a run for it and still took some heavy damage, but we had stashed your property before leaving Breaker's World, so it was safe and sound during all the unpleasantness." Deetz was talking very fast now in the alien's native language, luckily Jason's translator kept him up to speed. "With the Captain gone I had no way to get it back out of storage, so I enlisted this human," he gestured towards Jason, "to help me sign it out and bring it straight here. I know we're late, Bondrass, but you have to believe that I was trying to get here as soon as I could."
"I don't have to believe anything," Bondrass said with venom in his voice. He gestured to the two behind him, "Go check it out and let me know what you find." While he spoke he never took his eyes off the DL7 crew and seemed especially interested in Jason. The guards immediately jogged up the ramp and began scanning the barrels in the cargo bay with some sort of handheld device. Jason was captivated by the alien in front of him, but he had also seen Twingo's reaction when Deetz had called him by name. It was the same reaction Jason felt he would have had if he had been hitchhiking and found himself standing in John Gotti's garage facing the Don himself with two of his goons behind him. For the first time since boarding the gunship in that clearing, Jason began to think that it wasn't likely he would actually survive this little adventure.
He was actually grateful when he heard the two armed being marching back down the ramp if for no other reason than to interrupt the uncomfortable silence between them and the imposing Bondrass. The pair went straight to their boss and one whispered quietly in his ear as he continued to stare blankly at the trio, his face belying no emotion. Suddenly, his face broke into a huge, oily smile, exposing his short, pointed teeth. “It seems all is in order. I’ll admit, I had my doubts.” He walked over and put an arm around Jason and Deetz, the latter involuntarily flinched away slightly at the gesture. “But you understand that, don’t you Deetz? After all, you guys disappeared with my cargo at the pick up and it’s taken all this time for you to bring it back here. I half expected the containers to be full of sand,” with gentle pressure Bondrass was leading them away from the ramp, “but now all is well and you’ve shown yourselves to be standup guys. We can maybe talk about some business later. Don’t go anywhere.” The last sentence was most definitely not a suggestion. The tall alien removed his arms and strode away towards the exit, his two guards falling into formation behind him.
Jason was slightly confused as a work crew seemed to materialize out of nowhere and began unloading the cargo hold using some sort of hovering sleds and another alien, the same species as Bondrass apparently, albeit much shorter, appeared in front of him with a tablet computer. “As you’ll see here, Bondrass has graciously agreed to pay ninety percent of the original contract, most generous considering how late you’ve been. If you’ll please place your imprint here,” he indicated to another highlighted circle on the screen. Jason looked to Deetz, who nodded almost imperceptibly, and pressed his thumb into the circle. The tablet beeped and the alien looked at the screen and frowned, “I’ve never heard of a… human?... interesting. No matter though, your bio print matches the ship’s record, payment is being transferred to the DL7’s treasury as we speak. Once the cargo is unloaded you’re free to re-board and grab your personal belongings, Bondrass has arranged for a suite to made available for you and will notify you shortly if he has further use for you. If not, you’ll be cleared to leave.” The officious being spun on his heels and marched out of the hanger, leaving Twingo and Jason both apprehensive and relieved at the same time. Deetz, on the other hand, looked only relieved.
It took the crews another twenty minutes or so to clear the gunship out and spirit the cargo away. During that time Jason had walked over to lean against the nose landing gear and stare out of the gaping hanger opening into space. Intellectually he knew there was a forcefield holding the atmosphere in the hanger, but part of him was still quite leery of the hard vacuum that was just a few yards away. Once the ground crew had left he walked up the ramp and into the middle of an argument between Twingo and Deetz: "This has nothing to do with me! I'm booking the first flight back home and YOU'RE going to pay for it!"
"You know exactly who that was out there. Do you really think he'd make the distinction between you wanting to be here or not? As far as he, and I, are concerned NOBODY is leaving until he says otherwise. Believe me... I'd like nothing better than to dump you right here and now, the fact you're onboard was not my choice. The fact Bondrass has told ALL of us to stay, including you, is also not my choice." Deetz's voice remained calm, but the steel in his demeanor indicated that he meant to back up what he said.
"Look here you chunk of scrap metal, I don't give a leap what you've got cooked up with whichever crime lord you're dumb enough to have dealings with. I'm not bound to any of it, and I'm leaving!"
"ENOUGH!" Jason's shout froze both of them just as Deetz looked like he was winding up for another long-winded retort. "Deetz... with the money this job paid, do you agree to send Twingo back to Breaker's World on the first available transport?" He waited for the synth to nod his assent. "Thank you. Twingo... would you agree to this with the condition you wait for a bit to see what's what with this Bondrass character? I know you'd rather leave, but I'd rather you not put us in danger, or mark yourself."
"Fine," Twingo said without conviction. He'd have much rather been on the first flight away from Pinnacle, but he knew he'd gotten all he was going to get out of the other two.
"Ok. That's settled. I suppose we can just grab what we need and head out. I'm guessing that little guy still waiting by the door is going to show us to our rooms." Jason didn't wait for a response as he headed back to his quarters to grab what few belongings he had to take with him; a change of clothes and the toiletries he'd managed to coax the fabricators into producing.
He about had everything bundled into a neat roll with his change of pants on the outside when there was a soft knock at his door. He walked over and slapped the spot on the wall that would open it. Twingo was standing there with a similar bundle to his own, "May I come in, Jason?"
"Of course. Something wrong?"
"Honestly, yes... but I don't think you fully realize it yet," the engineer came in and sat down in the chair at the desk. "This Bondrass is a notoriously bad, bad guy. I don't get a good feeling about staying here any longer than necessary."
"I can agree with you there, but I honestly don't think we have much choice at this point. I know I'm a backworld rube to you, but I recognize a gangster when I see one. What do you think he wants with us?"
"I can't really imagine. My first instinct tells me he's going to want another job done, but he has to know that Deetz is more of a con artist and you, although trained as a soldier on your own world, are very much out of your element here. He could buy and sell a thousand of me so that's certainly not it," Twingo said, pausing as if he wanted to say more.
"Go on," Jason prompted.
"It may be the ship. While something like this bird isn't necessarily unobtainable, it is a bit of a rare mix of firepower and speed. It would certainly be worth getting rid of three nobodies for."
"Something tells me you're here because you have an idea on how to prevent that rather than to just give me a warning."
"Very perceptive," Twingo smiled. "I'd like to use your authority to put some locks in place on the ship's computer. Bondrass' people would correctly assume Deetz has been in command of the vessel, but when you were named First Officer you automatically outranked him as far as the computer was concerned. I'm not sure that he realized that when he gave you such a high rank. The locks, that only you can control, could be used as l
everage for anyone who would want to take the ship, be that Bondrass or Deetz." The last part surprised Jason somewhat, he hadn't realized just how deep Twingo's distrust of Deetz went. While the synth was supremely annoying, he didn't think he would deliberately put them in danger or run out on them.
"Ok, tell me what to do," Jason said as he sat down on the foot of the bed. Over the next five minutes Twingo talked him through the commands he needed to give the computer to gain access to the security protocols and safeguard them so only he could rescind them. Once finished, they grabbed their gear and headed back towards the cargo bay where they found a very impatient synth waiting for them.
"Where have you two been? You only have one change of clothes to your names..."
"What?" Jason asked as he walked by. "We have a schedule to meet or something?" Deetz rolled his eyes and activated the security lock up, unwittingly triggering Jason's new subroutine, and walked down the ramp before it could raise and lock.
The concierge, who had been waiting patiently by the hanger access hatch, led them through the bowels of the lower station, his impeccable clothes clashing with the grimy surroundings. They arrived at a set of lift doors and were ushered inside. They rode the lift further and further until even Deetz's brow shot up as they traversed into the extremely posh upper decks of Pinnacle Station. The doors finally opened and they walked out into an opulent passageway, still following the concierge until the reached an open hatchway. Walking inside they were momentarily stunned by how well appointed their temporary quarters were. Jason was the first to speak: "We're being buttered up for something. This can't be cheap."
"This is one of many suites Mr. Bondrass keeps on retainer for clients who may be passing through." It was the first time the concierge had spoken since they had exited the hanger. "If there won't be anything else, sirs, I'll leave you now. If you're needed, someone will send for you." He spun and walked out, shutting the hatch behind him,
"Anyone want to bet that it's locked?" Twingo asked as he sprawled out on the sofa, deciding that he may as well take advantage of a little luxury while he could. Jason walked around the suite and, as on the gunship, was struck at how familiar the furnishings and fixtures were. He said as much:
"Why has everything looked like it could have come from my planet? For that matter why aren't the aliens I've met been all that exotic?"
"Aliens?" Deetz laughed at him. "Take a look around, you're the most alien being on this station right now." He laughed again, ignoring Jason's glare.
"There's a logical reason for that," Twingo spoke up. "For whatever reason, intelligent life seems to evolve along a certain few tracts, mostly. Warm-blooded creatures all tend to be bipedal with bilateral symmetry once they reach a certain level of evolution. Some have more appendages or specialized sensory organs, but we're all pretty similar, and as such we tend to congregate together. On some worlds, insectoid life becomes dominant, or prime, and those species tend to stick together as well. It's more out of a lack of communication ability than any real prejudice, although some of them are a fright to look at. There's simply no real common ground for us to meet on. Beings like us tend to be more individualistic while insectoid life is more hive-oriented with a strong group-think instinct." He took a sip of something he had grabbed from the wet bar before continuing. Ooo... is that beer?
"There have been some pretty nasty wars between the two, but for eons there has been a steady peace between us in this part of the galaxy. Well, more or less. We don't really compete for the same resources and aren't motivated by the same factors, so we've learned it's better to just ignore each other. Of course, there are some truly bizarre folks out there, energy beings and what not, but you don't get to interact with them all that much if you stick to the established worlds and space lanes." ...another sip... "Any other questions?"
"Is that a beer?"
"That's seriously your only question?"
"Yes."
"Ok," Twingo chuckled, raising his free hand up in mock surrender. "Yes, the cooler is stocked with a few varieties of ales from a couple different worlds. I'm sure it's similar to what you have on your planet, fermenting sugars seems to be the first technological leap we all take together." Jason walked over to the bar, opened the cooler door, and peeked inside. Sure enough there were familiar bottles lined up, a little smaller than a twelve ounce bottle and with a different style cap, but beer bottles nonetheless. Well, it can't be all that bad out here if they have beer.
Taking a long pull off the bottle, Jason tilted his head back and let the liquid play across his pallet. If he closed his eyes and didn't think at it too closely, it really did taste eerily similar to a Harp's Lager from Ireland back on Earth with a little more body to it and a slightly sweetish finish. He took another drink and let out a breath. "Ahh... I really did need that," he said, hoping the work the ship's medical bay did on him so he could eat would also work its magic with the alien brew.
A loud, keening screech startled Jason so badly he spilled some of the beer on his shirt. He wiped at it as he looked for the source of the odd noise. What the fuck... He spotted Twingo sitting at a computer terminal, his normally bluish hue was now a sickly pallor. He looked so agitated that Jason walked over to see what the issue was, unfortunately he couldn't read a single word on the screen. What he could see, however, were the images, and one of the four on the screen was of the gunship in flight over Breaker's World, its main engines at full power. Another was of Twingo. It looked like a mug shot so Jason assumed it must have been a photo from his employer or an ID database. "What's it say?" He asked, unable to hold back any longer.
"I'm wanted for questioning in the deaths of three individuals and the escape of a Jepsen Aero DL7 gunship," he replied simply.
"Well that's ridiculous. You were an innocent bystander," Jason said, placating his friend. "That should be easy enough to clear up."
"You don't understand!" Twingo turned on him with an uncharacteristic ferocity, "Breaker's World is run by the cartels. They KNOW what happened, but they don't care. They want you guys and that ship, but all they have is a positive ID on me." He placed his head in his hands and started moaning. "I can't believe this." Jason didn't know what else to do, so he was surprised when Deetz came forward and placed a hand on Twingo's shoulder.
"Maybe you should try to go lay down for a bit and clear your head. This is obviously about the cargo we were carrying, we can have Bondrass' people clear this up with the local cartels on Breaker's World," the synth said with what seemed to be genuine concern for the little engineer. Twingo simply nodded and plodded off to one of the rooms without a word. Once the door closed Deetz turned to Jason, "That's probably good advice for you too. I don't really know what's going on and I'd like to have you rested and alert when we find out." He looked pointedly at the half-empty bottle, "I'd really rather not have you intoxicated either."
"Probably not a bad idea," Jason agreed without argument. He left the bottle on the bar and headed towards one of the other empty rooms, intent on a shower and then some sleep.
Chapter 11
Jason awoke some time later, not knowing how long he had slept, to the sound of voices coming from the main room. One was clearly Deetz, and one was clearly not. He stayed still and concentrated, still unable to make out what was being said. “Son of a bitch,” he murmured under his breath, grabbing the translator earpiece off the table next to the bed. He stuffed it into his right ear, but by the time the little device had booted up the other, unidentified voice had left. Figuring there was no point in laying there any longer, he swung his legs off the bed and stood up, pulling on his shirt. After multiple combat tours he slept in his pants and boots when he was in an unknown or potentially hostile environment, this counted as both in his book.
When Jason walked out into the main living area he saw Deetz sitting at the computer terminal reading documents at break-neck speed, Twingo was nowhere in sight, likely still sleeping. Deetz looked over at him and gestured to the larger sofa,
“A gift for you. From Bondrass, or more likely his consigliere. We’re invited to dinner with him in three hours.”
“An invitation would indicate we have the option to turn it down,” Jason said as he picked up what looked like two garment bags.
“A poor choice of words perhaps. I should have said in three hours we WILL be dining with Bondrass at his pleasure. I’m assuming there is something along the lines of a job he’d like us to undertake,” Deetz replied as he turned back to the display. Jason was about to retort that he wasn’t aware there was an “us” in the equation, but bit the comment back and walked to his room with the larger of the garment bags.
The clothing was fairly straight forward, pants, shirts, and a banded collar jacket that went high up his neck. It was actually more elegantly simple than an Earthly suit and tie. What he was amazed, and suspicious, about was the tailoring; the clothes fit him absolutely perfectly in every way, the neck, inseam, and even the fact that his left shoulder was minutely lower than his right. He assumed he must have been scanned at some point while walking through Pinnacle Station, something his human sensibilities took offense to for some reason.
Omega Rising Page 10