by Kal Spriggs
“Whatever,” Kandergain said. “Lets get off this rock, though. The longer we set here, the more money you'll owe Traffic Control.”
Mason nodded, “Yes, I'll go talk with them all this afternoon.”
***
“Councilor, there's a... gentleman here to see you,” the guard said as he opened the door. “He says it's about our business with Mr. Kaid.” The distaste in his voice was painfully evident.
“That would be a Captain Heraklion?” the woman's voice was high and clear, “Send him in, Chris.”
Mason gave the guard a condescending pat on the shoulder as he walked through the door, “Told you, friend.” He leaned in close, “Ladies always want to talk with Stavros.” He stepped into the office and gave it a quick once-over. The Councilor was from off-world, which meant she had to rent offices. What kind of money she spent could tell Mason a lot about both her personality and circumstances. A cheap, barely inhabitable office would tell him that her planet was hard up on currency and more likely to 'disappear' their hired help than pay them. Contra-wise, an opulent set of offices would suggest that she was well connected, probably eager to spend her world's money, and also more likely to 'disappear' the hired help rather than waste money on them.
What he saw impressed him a bit, in spite of himself. She had obviously shelled out for an office in a nicer area of Port Klast. Even so, the office was mostly utilitarian, with simple, bland furnishings. There were a couple nicknacks, he would assume from home. Her desk held a holovid frame and her personal computer. It looked like she didn't like spending money... but she was willing to shell out for the things that were necessary.
Mason turned his attention to the Councilor herself and again, he was a little impressed. She was of medium age and she clearly hadn't received the best medical treatments to extend her lifespan. Rather than some gaudy outfit with garish makeup, she wore a professional business suit and minimal makeup. A look of mild distaste flashed across her face when she saw Stavros, but she hid it well. Not eager to do business with my type, but willing to do what's necessary, Mason thought, interesting.
She extended her hand for a shake. Mason took it, but turned her hand sideways. “Madame,” Mason bowed over her hand. She flushed a bit, which suggested that she wasn't used to that kind of behavior. Also an interesting bit of data for him to tuck away.
She pulled her hand back quickly and gestured for him to take a seat while she seated herself behind her desk. “Captain Heraklion, I understand you've some interest in our offer to serve as a privateer for my world,” her voice was all business.
Mason gave a nonchalant shrug. “I am somewhat ambivalent about it, to be honest. I'm interested to see what you can offer, but I honestly feel like I can make more on my own.” He put a tone of boredom in his voice.
“I see,” Councilor Penwaithe said. She glanced at her computer screen and he could see her eyes narrow as she, no doubt, read his background. “Your cruiser, the Kraken, is quite a vessel. I don't see where it originally hails from, though.”
“Oh?” Mason asked. “That's interesting. It is a fine ship, very advanced technology, easily a match for even a Centauri battlecruiser.” That was overstating it, which Mason knew for a fact. Stavros's vessel had proven a tough opponent, but in his hands, not quite as capable as his boasts. Still, no one else knew that.
“Really?” Her tone was doubting.
“Oh, I'm sure there's many that can vouch for my skill... most of them are dead, though,” Mason said with a vicious grin. “If you need more credentials than that, well, I'm certain Thomas Kaid could vouch for me, I was his guest just the other evening.”
“I remember,” she said. Her face took on a thoughtful expression as she connected her meeting with Thomas Kaid and their 'chance' encounter. Clearly she was wondering if Kaid had arranged the meeting.
She sat silent for a long moment before clearing her throat. “Well, then. If we decide to sign you on as a privateer, we have a number of benefits to an independent captain such as yourself.” She met his eyes levelly, “First off, I assure you that you will receive your fair share of whatever prize money taken over the course of our campaign.”
“Oh?” Mason asked with narrow eyes.
“All prize money goes into escrow, you can monitor your accounts, but not access them until we release them. On the other hand, we can't access those accounts, other than to put money into them. Those assets will be secured here at Port Klast with PKS Bank,” she said.
Mason raised his eyebrows, “That sounds remarkably secure. So long as you're paying fair shares, anyway.”
“Of course,” Councilor Penwaithe said. “As Captain, you'd be eligible for twenty five percent of your own prize money as well as a flat percentage, right now, five percent, of all prize money awarded. Your crew, also, would be paid out of that fund, they'd split five percent of your prize money and have shares in the overall prize money.”
“I keep one hundred percent, as my own man,” Mason said.
“Which is probably substantially less than what you can earn with us,” Penwaithe said. “We have shipping schedules, patrol schedules, cargo manifests... all that captured from Nova Corp offices when we liberated our planet.” She gave him a level stare, “For that matter, we have contact with other freedom fighting organizations to coordinate attacks on planetary and orbital targets.”
Mason's eyes narrowed, “That would be valuable. Of course, many a pirate has been sucked into such an ideal situation only to find himself interned when the authorities come to call.”
Penwaithe's face went hard. “I assure you, Captain Heraklion, that we will not bow down to the 'authorities' in the Garris Major system. My government is spending every effort to get out from under their thumb. We've pledged our own money towards that goal, signing on mercenaries and... people such as yourself. We have assembled a substantial military force at extreme debt to ourselves, all with the goal of defying the tyrannical rule of the Salazar family.”
“Now that something I can drink to,” Mason said with a genuine smile. Despite himself, he was impressed with their genuine efforts, it actually sounded like they wanted to improve their world's situation. “I do love a good revolution...” He shook his head, “Pardon me, I'm a bit of an anarchist.” His slip was one that could very well cost him this opportunity.
The Councilor cocked her head at him, “That's quite alright, Captain. Excuse me, I'm a bit passionate about this myself.” She let out a sigh. “Now, along with that twenty five percent of prize money, we'll restock your munitions, refuel your ship and fighters, and conduct what maintenance and repairs we can manage at our own expense.”
Mason raised his eyebrows, “That's quite generous.” He would imagine that the priority of repairs would go to Halcyon's own forces, but still, it would take down a high level of overhead for most of their privateers, just in providing spare parts and equipment. “How would this work, then?” Mason asked.
“Our privateers will be formed into squadrons, based upon their capabilities and experience. Given your... colorful history, you might even be the leader of a squadron yourself. Otherwise you'll answer to a squadron commander. We're frocking them as Commodores,” she said. From her tone, the last was dangled as a plug to his pride. Still, she had used the term 'squadrons' which suggested quite a bit more combat power than he had assumed. And they're allied to Admiral Mannetti, Mason thought darkly.
“I do like the sound of Commodore Stavros,” Mason said with a grin. “Though I detest answering to someone else. I would think that the firepower of the Kraken would make it eligible to be a flagship of a squadron.”
“We might be able to work out an agreement of some kind as far as an independent command, dependent upon your initial performance, even if you're not eligible to command a squadron,” the Councilor hedged. From her tone, despite her distaste for Stavros, his ship and reputation were no doubt a lure.
“Well,” Mason said. “I have to say I'm a bit impressed. Sti
ll, I don't want to sign away my freedom so quickly. Let me evaluate my options a bit and I'll get back to you.” He could see a bit of disappointment on her face.
“Of course, Captain,” she said. She stood and extended her hand, “I hope you'll make the right decision and sign with us.”
***
“Well?” Kandergain asked. They had decided to meet at Webb's. On a planet dedicated to commerce both legitimate and illegitimate, there were a number of businesses who made their mark selling privacy. Their booths were guaranteed secure. Webb's was the most secure and even boasted psychics on staff to screen for psychic means of eavesdropping. Upon entry, Mason had seen Kandergain roll her eyes at the notice.
“I've made contact with Malcom, Yarris and Penwaithe,” Mason said as he slipped into the booth. “I managed to alienate Yarris, as expected.” He smirked a bit at that. Yarris MacWard was the head of a crime syndicate. The man was a notorious skinflint and extremely meticulous. Stavros's sloppiness and condescending attitude had nearly gotten him thrown out. That was the point, of course. Yarris had no ties with Mannetti, which meant they couldn't get much out of him. “Malcom, though, I think realized something was up. Trying the Stavros routine with him might have been a mistake,” Mason admitted.
“I hadn't realized that Malcom Reynard had dealings with Stavros,” Kandergain said. “Otherwise I wouldn't have put him on the list.”
Mason grimaced, “He's dealt with Tommy King, before. He was part of his crew, at one point he captained one of his auxiliary ships, as well.” He shrugged, “I don't think he made me, but I could tell he wasn't entirely buying the Stavros routine.” It was unfortunate, as Malcom was associated more directly with Mannetti. If Mason had trusted the man a bit more, he might have tried a direct approach. Still, he didn't think it was worth the risk, not with how long had passed... and not with how Tommy King's crew had parted ways.
“Well, I would have pulled him from the list, if I knew that,” Kandergain said.
“No matter,” Mason said. He let out a deep breath, “That leaves the Halcyon Colony offer as the best deal. And, to be honest, I'd rather go with them. It looks less likely to lead to outright murder and rape.” He looked over at Lauren, “You?”
Lauren looked tired. Mason didn't know if that was from the work load he'd dumped on her as his executive officer or if it was from having to kill the Roirden boy. Probably both, he decided. “I made contact, he's amenable. I'll arrange for transportation tomorrow and he's assured me that he'll take care of security.”
“Excellent,” Mason said. He saw Kandergain open her mouth to ask a question, but he spoke before she could, “How about our situation aboard ship?” She cocked an eyebrow at him, but she gave him a slight nod. Good, Mason thought, she's willing to let me have my secrets and the less people who know about this, the better.
“Well,” Kandergain said, “Peterson is Kaid's man, for sure. As far as I can tell, he's here mostly to keep an eye on you, but I don't think he knows your actual identity, just that 'Stavros' is an alias.” Mason grimaced at that, but nodded at her to continue. “Theresa Lourdes, the medical officer you hired, is one of Mannetti's people. Worse, she's both spy and assassin. I would strongly recommend you don't require any treatment that would allow her to give you injections or surgery. Mannetti apparently has some serious interest in you, because there is also Mark Mendoza, the communications officer, and Erik Mondragon, our new fighter squadron executive officer.”
“Hmm,” Mason said. “I'd fingered Lourdes and Mondragon, but not Mendoza.” That bothered him, because looking back it should have been obvious. Mendoza's background was too good. He could have signed on with a legitimate mercenary company, so he really had no business signing up with scum like Stavros. “Okay, we'll continue with the assumption that our communications are compromised from here on out. That might actually work in our favor, especially if the enemy thinks they're reading our mail.” He thought for a long moment. “I'll limit his access to the Kraken's computer network. If he's really good, he'll find some work around, but that will take him time.” He looked at Lauren, “I want you to keep him very busy. He's got that squeaky clean background, get him dirty some, push him, everything from counterfeit identity cards to pirating entertainment programs. I want him exhausted, so he doesn't have the time or desire to do anything other than sleep. If he gives you any trouble–”
Lauren snorted, “He won't. He's terrified of me already.”
Something about the way she said that gave Mason chills. Lauren had a dark patch in her own soul and Mason didn't like the thought of what this was going to cost her in the end. He'd seen the toll paid by enough companions over time... the worst of them were the ones who didn't care about the cost in the end... people like Arela. “Right.” He looked at Kandergain, “Who else?”
“The cargo master, Carlos Ortiz, is something of a free agent, he just sells information on cargoes and ports,” Kandergain shrugged. “A couple of the others are mercenary enough that they'll sell information as well, but they're opportunistic amateurs rather than professionals.”
“Alright,” Mason nodded. “I'll make the call to Councilor Penwaithe. From here on out, we're Halcyon Privateers.”
***
Melcer System
United Colonies
September 25, 2403
The soft chime of his comm unit awoke Lucius from a dead sleep. He sat up and activated it, his first thought being it was some kind of Chxor retaliation. Yet there were no alarm klaxons and no sounds of the ship readying for combat. “Baron Lucius Giovanni,” he said and felt some pride that his voice sounded sharp and crisp, rather than groggy.
“Baron, this is Lieutenant Ezra at communications. You have an ansible call from your sister, sir. I told her what time it is here, but she was very insistent.”
“That's fine,” Lucius said. “Put her through.” Alanis wouldn't call unless it was something important, he knew. His first thought was that something must have happened to his daughter and he felt a well of panic. He wiped at his face nervously. Maybe it was something else, something more mundane, he hoped. It couldn't be anything between her and Reese, at least, he thought, she'd sent that message that Reese seemed to have come to his senses and that they had already patched things up. He was grateful for that, though he still had some reservations about her taking him back.
After what seemed like an eternity, Alanis's face appeared on the screen. “Lucius,” she said and her voice broke a bit. Her eyes were bloodshot from crying and tears still trailed down her face. “I know... I know that you're busy, but I need you here.” She'd clearly routed the call through from her apartment to the ansible station they'd established in Michaelston. Lucius didn't want to think of how expensive the call was... then again, he ruled the planet, he supposed he had the pay to cover it. I still haven't checked what my pay is, the random thought went through the back of his mind and was smothered by his concern.
Lucius felt the knot of tension in his chest grow tighter, “Alanis, what happened, are you alright, is Kaylee alright?”
She nodded, “Your daughter is fine, Lucius. It's...” She shook her head, “I don't want to talk about it right now. Look, I don't want to pull you away from the front, I know it's not fair... but this once I need you.”
Lucius nodded slowly. “I'll be there.” They were establishing a supply depot here at Melcer and staging for the next part of the attack. It was only a week's travel from Melcer to Faraday and only five days return through shadow space. The initial planning could continue without him. He wished, once again, that he could rely on someone as he normally did upon Anthony Doko. Lucius's longtime friend, however, was still under house arrest and that left Lucius without his right hand.
“Thank you, Lucius,” Alanis said. “I'll see you soon.” She cut the call from her end. Lucius felt a dozen scenarios go through his head, even as he thought about what he had to do on his end. It was grossly unfair, he knew, for the commander to jaunt home to dea
l with a personal issue in the middle of a war. Still, he thought, I'll just have to make certain I don't make a habit of it. For that matter, he should see what kind of leave policy that the various ship commanders had for emergencies.
Lucius dialed Admiral Dreyfus and then stood up quickly from his bed and moved to the closet. He pulled out his uniform even as he heard Admiral Dreyfus's confused voice. “Admiral Dreyfus, this is Lucius. I'm going to have to take a short leave of absence. I'll be headed back to Faraday, there's... an issue I need to deal with,” Lucius said.
“What?” Admiral Dreyfus asked. “What's happened, how are you going, what are we supposed to do...”
“Admiral,” Lucius said, in a calm voice. “I don't have time to discuss the details.” Not a lie, Lucius thought, I don't have time to find out the details to discuss them. “The destroyer Nova Rosnik is headed back to Faraday in two hours, if I remember right. I'll board and travel back to Faraday. Which means I have two hours to pack, give you my guidance, and sign whatever necessary to authorize you to make decisions in my stead while I'm gone.” Lucius pinched his lips at that. “Besides, it's not like you don't have the decades of experience necessary to do this job anyway.” Though his lack of recent experience continued to make Lucius nervous, as did his... intransigence as far as innovation and including personnel outside of his trusted circle.
“Right,” Admiral Dreyfus said, his voice a bit more calm. “We'll continue the preparations for our attack at Tehran and then Danar, drawing on the updated intelligence. Do I have your permission to dispatch the scouts?”