He walked back out of his room a short time later to see that Twingo’s door was still shut, but the other garment bag was missing. Deetz was sitting on the sofa watching what must have been a newscast on the largest display he had ever seen. Why the hell does the machine bother sitting on the sofa? He walked to the bar and grabbed another beer out of the cooler, ignoring the synth’s reproachful gaze. Screw him. If I’m being forced to go along with this I’m going to do it relaxed. He hadn’t felt any ill effects from the previous half a beer he had drank so now it was bottoms up. He apparently wasn’t the only one with a case of nerves as Twingo, emerging from his room resplendent in his new suit, walked straight to the bar without comment and grabbed a bottle of something off the shelf above the counter and poured a liberal amount into a glass. He fired the drink back, winced, and then repeated the process twice more before speaking to his companions. "How much longer?"
"We've got about an hour and a half," Deetz said.
"Seeing as how we're obviously not being treated like prisoners, do we really need to wait around to be collected by an underling?" Jason set his empty bottle back on the bar and stared at Deetz.
"I'm not sure I follow you," he replied.
"What I mean is this: can't we go early and wait for our host? I'd sort of like to get a view of the place before I have Bondrass' people watching my every move."
"I know which establishment we're going to, so I suppose it's possible. We could wait in the lounge, I'm certain our movements will be monitored, but what you're suggesting may not be a bad idea." Deetz switched off the display and rose from the couch.
"So there's really no way I can just stay here?" Twingo paled visibly now that the meeting with the crime boss went from being a hypothetical event in the future to a reality in the present.
"You know the answer to that," Deetz said gently as he walked with Jason towards the door.
"Try and relax a bit, Twingo. If a few peons like us were simply going to be killed I doubt we'd be getting dinner and gifts, unless this Bondrass is one sick bastard," Jason said, looking at Deetz, who just shrugged noncommittally.
The restaurant they were heading to was three decks below them and along the outer edge of the hull, providing diners with spectacular starscapes as they ate. Nobody tried to stop them along their way, confirming that they were probably free to roam around the station somewhat without drawing the ire of Bondrass. They were seated at a table in the lounge and the two biological beings ordered drinks. All three settled in to watch the ebb and flow of the crowd and wait for their host.
The flurry of activity near the entrance was their first indication that the main event was about to kick off. Some oversized aliens of a species Jason had not yet seen led the way in, obviously point security by the way they scanned the crowd. A couple underlings walked in and then Bondrass appeared, all smiles and waves to the crowd, his shimmering black suit complimenting his olive green skin. He spotted the gunship crew and waved like they were old friends, making several patrons look at the trio with new interest. "Boys!" he boomed. "Starting without me? Let's all grab another drink before we head to our table." While his demeanor was bombastic and friendly, Jason could see through the act. It was more for the benefit of the other patrons in the lounge than to put them at ease.
A short while after Bondrass' arrival they were shown to their table. Only the boss and his right hand man joined them, the rest of the entourage mingled around in the lounge or posted up discreetly at the entrance. Once they had all ordered (Jason with the help of Deetz) things turned to business. "I don't always give my contractors the royal treatment like this," Bondrass started, taking a sip of what looked like a dark red wine. "But you've proven that you're able to overcome adversity and still remember who it is you work for. Frankly, I was surprised when you showed back up with my cargo completely intact. We've tested it and it wasn't tampered with in the least." Jason could tell they were on dangerous ground, he hoped Twingo would just keep his mouth shut and Deetz would find a graceful way to get them out of any future obligations to this guy. "What I was equally surprised at, Deetz, was the complete crew change. Not that I was especially partial to Klegsh, it was the ship I was hiring, but for a synth you've shown a remarkable self-preservation instinct and uncommonly good sense. No offense intended."
"None taken, sir, and I thank you for the compliment. Of course it goes without saying that it never crossed my mind to try and cross you," Deetz said. Bondrass looked unimpressed with the synth's bootlicking.
"Of course. Which brings me to the main point, as it were," Bondrass leaned back and took another drink. "I have an... opportunity... for you to make some serious cash for not a lot of work."
"I'm listening," Deetz said eagerly.
"I need some cargo and personnel moved fairly quickly from this station to another location, not on a planet. My ships are all too well known to be able to slip out of here without someone observing, but your vessel is virtually anonymous, save for that action on Breaker's World. You could get out of here with minimal effort and be done with the job within a matter of days, paid and on your way."
"That sounds extremely generous, sir. Do you think it'd be possible for me to discuss this with my crew and give you an answer?" Why is Deetz trying to back out of this all of the sudden? I figured I'd have to convince him not to take the job.
"I suppose," Bondrass said, shifting irritably in his seat. "You should know, I would like to use you and your... crew... again, but all I really need is the ship. A DL7 isn't that difficult to pilot." There it is... the offer we can't refuse.
"We'll take the job," Jason heard himself saying. Bondrass leaned back and smiled, Deetz looked at him sharply, and Twingo looked ready to faint.
"Well, Commander Burke, that makes me very happy," Bondrass said. "Smart move. Of course, your crew is only three people, not nearly enough to manage that big gunship. I'll tell you what I'll do... I'm going to provide some of my own personnel to make sure the delivery goes smoothly. It's the least I can do."
I'll fucking bet.
Once back in the suite, Jason had to fend off two very irate beings. "Why the hell did you jump in back there?" Deetz seemed more upset that Jason had usurped his authority than the prospect of working for Bondrass again.
"We were supposed to be getting out of here! I want to leave!" Twingo's reaction was fear driven, and understandable. Jason was in no mood to coddle him though, he wanted to be done with this as much as anyone. He also wanted to be done with all the arguments about it.
"If you'd both shut the FUCK up, I'll tell you," Jason roared, his tone broaching no argument. "You both heard him... he said all he needed was the ship, that was a direct threat. He'll TAKE that gunship parked down in the hanger, and when he does, what do you think our life expectancy looks like? You think we'll be allowed to just run out the clock in this luxury suite on his dime? We'll be dead before they even finish loading the cargo." They stared at him silently, contemplating what he had just said.
"You're right," Twingo said softly. "We'll never be allowed to leave here alive unless we play his game." He blew his breath out noisily, "What do I care? I'm a wanted man on my home planet... which isn't even really my home planet. I've no one to care for, or to care for me, but I don't want to die here on this station. I guess I'm in for now."
"I don't disagree with you, but these things are usually handled with a little more finesse," Deetz conceded. "Since you've locked us into this deal without discussing terms, we're obligated to do this for whatever price he may set." Jason looked at him with disgust.
"Deetz, I'm not trying to get more money out of him. I'm trying to survive long enough to see Earth once more."
The crew of the gunship was back down in the hanger deck bright and early, at least according to ship's time, watching the last of the cargo get moved up into the hold and secured. Towards the end of the loading, Bondrass made an appearance, looking as polished as ever. He was trailed by a handful of aliens tha
t were dressed in utilitarian coveralls, almost like flightsuits, and were undoubtedly their "supplemental crew members".
"Looks like we're about ready," the crime boss beamed. "Let me introduce you to the specialist you'll be taking with you. This is Dr. Jorvren Ma'Fredich, he'll be monitoring the cargo and disembarking once you reach your destination." Jason nodded politely to the doctor, who looked like he may have been the same species as Twingo, and was rewarded with an openly hostile glare that startled him. "Are we about ready to launch?" Bondrass asked.
"Yes, once your personnel are onboard we can shove off." Bondrass cocked his head slightly, as if trying to decipher the expression. After a split second his implants provided him with his species' equivalent of the nautical term, “shove off", and he smiled. "So how is it you're still using that old, cheap translator? Nevermind." Cutting Jason off before he could answer, Bondrass motioned for one of his men. After a brief conversation he straightened back up and yelled at the doctor, "Ma'Fredich! I'm sending for a full set of implants for Commander Burke. You WILL use this ship's medical facilities and install them." The doctor looked positively enraged as he stared at Jason before stomping up the ramp. Bondrass chuckled, "Just a little parting gift for a job well done." As Jason watched him walk off he realized the implants weren't a gift, they were an insult aimed at the doctor. Apparently one of many, judging by the looks Ma'Fredich had been giving. Sighing, Jason turned and followed everyone else up the ramp and into the gunship.
The cargo bay was loaded with twenty-eight tall, rectangular modules that were individually secured to the deck. They looked to be about one and a half meters by one and a half meters and around four meters tall. All the containers were humming and had indicator panels that were scrolling information that Jason couldn’t understand. He innocently asked the “hired help” next to him, “So what’s in the crates?”
“Don’t worry about it, and don’t touch anything,” the flightsuited thug pushed by him and headed for the stairs that led to the interior of the ship. Not much for conversation I guess. When he left the cargo bay himself, waiting to watch the ramp raise and lock to prevent any potential stowaways, he walked into the ship and felt a completely different vibe to it. The personality (or lack thereof) of Bondrass’ people aside, the ship didn’t have the abandoned feel to it that he had gotten used to in recent weeks as the sole occupant.
The three new security thugs, as Jason came to think of them, were sitting at the galley table engrossed in a conversation amongst themselves. The doctor was sitting apart from them staring down into a mug of something. He looked as dejected as anyone Jason had ever seen. Before he could initiate a conversation with him, Deetz’s voice came over the ship intercom, “We’ll be launching in five minutes. There’s no need to secure yourselves or other items since we’ll just be sliding out of the hanger. Commander Burke, please report to the bridge.” What the hell does he want?
“What’s up?” Jason asked as he walked onto the bridge, nodding to Twingo as he passed.
“We’re getting ready to launch, I’d rather have you up here in case our new passengers have a secondary agenda. We can close off the bridge if we need to and evacuate the atmosphere out of the rest of the ship if it looks like they’re here for something other than just to tend to the cargo.” Jason was somewhat surprised that the synth seemed to have real concern for his well being.
“Thanks,” he said simply as he hopped into the copilot’s seat.
The DL7’s reactor was still coming up to nominal operating range when Deetz went ahead and lifted off from the hanger deck and used the maneuvering thrusters to nudge the gunship out through the forcefield and into open space. Once out, he sat back as the station’s docking control system took over navigation and flew the ship away, allowing the station’s orbital velocity to aid in increasing the distance between the two. It was nearly five minutes later when the displays indicated that the ship was free navigating and Deetz was clear to bring the main propulsion online. The ship thrummed as power was fed to the grav emitters and they banked onto a course that would lead them directly out of the system. He began entering information into the navigation system and said idly to Jason, “We’re going to make a couple 'dummy jumps' in case we’re tracked out of the system. Bondrass was right, this ship doesn’t have much notoriety and has never been publicly contracted by him, so it’s not likely anyone will follow. We’ll jump once and then send the maintenance bots out to check the hull for trackers and then make a couple more hops before heading to our destination.”
“Which is?” Jason asked.
“It doesn’t really have a name. Everyone just calls it 'The Vault', I think it’s been intentionally left a bit ambiguous.”
“I’m overwhelmed by the amount of detail you’re giving me,” Jason said sarcastically.
“Hmm? Oh,” Deetz said distractedly. “It’s an asteroid that has a decently stable orbit and is comprised mostly of iron ore. It was hollowed out for use as a deep-cold storage facility and was then repurposed as a sort of way point for people who would like to operate outside local jurisdictions.”
“It sounds like just another space station with a natural hull. Isn’t it the same as Pinnacle Station?”
“Oh no, Pinnacle Station is fully under control of both Pinnacle Prime and Confed governments. Most of what you saw on that station was fully legal enterprise, it’s a major shipping hub as well as a connection point for commercial spaceliners.” Deetz activated the slip-drive and the DL7 disappeared from Pinnacle System’s space.
Chapter 12
Each subsequent jump before they changed course to bear on their final destination were uneventful. Once they were steaming along towards The Vault, Jason climbed out of his seat and headed down to see what the passengers were up to. Twingo followed him out without a word. Dr. Ma’Fredich was in the infirmary and looked engrossed by something on one of the displays so Jason let him be. The trio of security goons had dispersed once they were in slip-space; two were in berthing, probably asleep, and one was sitting in the lounge. It seemed they were dividing into shifts in order to provide full coverage and ensure nobody would be molesting the cargo. Jason decided to ignore the lot of them and followed Twingo down into the engineering spaces. I hope he’s not going to bed, or this is going to look a little weird.
The pair walked into the main engineering bay and Twingo closed and secured the door. Jason looked at him with an arched eyebrow and waited for the engineer to say something. “So, how confident are you that we’re going to walk away from this?”
“Not as confident as I’d like to be,” Jason admitted with a sigh. “I was mainly trying to escape Pinnacle Station and then try to get us home from there, but I didn’t count on the added passengers.”
“Once we reach The Vault we’re going to need to try and find transport out of there. We can just leave the gunship and try to book passage to someplace safe. What is your planet… Earth?... What is it like?” Twingo apparently hadn’t fully grasped the full meaning of Jason’s story about how he came to be there.
“Um, it’s nice… but I don’t think you want to go there unless you want to spend your remaining days in a cell. We’ve never had official contact with any species other than ourselves; if you showed up in a rented spaceship you’d cause a global panic.”
“Oh, so you weren’t exaggerating that part of your story were you?” When Jason shook his head he continued. “Well, that’s out. Any other ideas?”
“Commander Burke, please come to the infirmary,” the voice of Dr Ma’Fredich over the intercom cut off Jason’s reply. He looked at Twingo, who shrugged in return, and made his way up to the infirmary.
He walked into the ship's medical bay and was greeted by a glaring Dr. Ma'Fredich. "Sit," he said brusquely. Jason planted his feet and crossed his arms, staring flatly at the alien. After a few moments of rising tension the doctor caved, visibly deflating in defeat. "Sit on the table, please, Commander." Jason let it drop and hopped up on the ta
ble.
"Is this about something specific?" Jason asked. The doctor stared at him blankly for a moment.
"Implants, maybe?" He said, his voice dripping scorn and sarcasm as if this should have been completely obvious to Jason. "I've accessed your initial bio scans from the ship's computer. Quite fascinating really, I'd love to study your species in depth..." He drifted off, lost in thought. Jason noticed while he was studying the scrolling data he lost some of the brittle demeanor and became the curious scientist. "Anyway," he said, once again guarded, "your physiology is imminently suitable for enhancement. You could actually have some extensive work done and hardly even notice it, but today it's just the usual work up: neural access implants, active translation matrix, and some processing enhancements to support those."
"I have no idea what any of that means," Jason admitted with trepidation. He was right on the verge of walking right out of the infirmary and telling the doc thanks, but no thanks. Ma'Fredich's face softened slightly as he saw how scared his patient was.
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