13 Degrees of Separation

by Hechtl, Chris

  The boy held up his pulser. Pope took it and checked the action. “Thanks kid,” he said and then put a round through the kid's head. The kid's body toppled like a puppet.

  “Sorry, no room for dead weight,” Pope growled, shooting the chain. He ripped it off his bike and then turned to the others. “Let's ride!” he snarled taking off. The others followed.

  <=={----------

  The victors cheered, then did an assessment. The mountain complex was damaged and they didn't have the parts to fix it. But Jane still wanted to stay to do what she could. She gave them a list as her parents arrived. Randor came to congratulate them. She handed him the list. “What's this?” he asked.

  “Parts I need.”

  “I'll see what I can do.”

  “Do that,” she said. He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She fought the urge to sink into herself. She felt Teela put a hand on her shoulder, silently encouraging her. She gulped and stood her ground.

  Slowly Randor nodded, seeing the hell the girl had gone through, or at least imagining it. It took a lot of courage to stand here talking to him after what she had no doubt gone through. To want to help... “Okay. For this, we can put the order of parts through the Antiguan government since it is for planetary defense. There will be red tape, feet dragging and paperwork.” He sighed ruefully. “Lots and lots of paperwork no doubt,” he said.

  “I don't care, get on it,” she said stubbornly. She even lifted her chin. She looked a little like Marlena with that pose in her borrowed jumper.

  “Yes ma'am,” he murmured in approval, moving off. He whistled softly, smiling.

  Teela rubbed her arms from behind and hugged her. “You go girl,” she said in approval.

  “Thanks,” Jane said, patting her hand and then squeezing her fingers. “Can you look after Adam? And we need to go over the security of this place. I don't want Pope sneaking back in.”

  “Yeah,” Teela replied with a nod. “Good call.”

  <=={----------

  The day after they secured the mountain complex, the newly elected Governor Jeff Randall called to congratulate them.

  “Sir this is Randor, how can I help you?” Randor said, pressing the mike button and then letting it go. Jane was a wonder, she'd gotten the communications system back online and even linked to the system in Eternia just before Teela had chased her off to bed.

  For this call he had an audience, Jane was there, as was Duncan and a few other notable people. Jane flipped a switch then winced when the audio overhead squealed. “Feedback,” she muttered, turning the volume down. “Best I can do,” she said. Randor nodded.

  “Randor? A relative perhaps?” the Governor asked, sounding amused and somewhat elated. There was a squelch of static.

  “No, Randor is my first name sir,” the leader replied. He smiled. “My full name is Randor Prince sir.”

  “Ah, I see Mister Prince. Well, to avoid confusion, we'll stick to formalities shall we?” The Governor asked.

  “As you wish Governor Randall,” the older man replied drolly.

  “I do I do. So, I heard you have beaten back the raiders, taken their base, rescued the hostages there, and have even started work on restoring the Planetary Defense system! Quite an achievement!”

  “Yes sir, we've... had a busy day,” Randor replied, smiling wolfishly.

  “I agree,” the Governor replied with a chuckle. “See? We can do things on our own! Antiguans!”

  Randor frowned, look over to his wife and son. His lovely wife rolled her eyes. Governor Randor had taken a sharp down turn in the polls his first month in office the moment the admiral left the system had been confirmed. Some of the shenanigans he and his supporters had pulled on the admiral, the architect of their new renaissance had also been fed to the media.

  The lack of the keys the admiral had taken with him had also hammered their industrial renaissance. Now the economy had dropped into a sluggish mire. It hadn't fallen into a recession, there were still goods and markets on the station and in orbit, but the economy had still taken a hammering.

  “Um, sir, the people who rescued the complex and have been restoring Eternia are offworlders,” a voice said in the background.

  The Governor grunted. “Is that true?”

  “Some of us sir yes. We're from the Kiev 221 and Prime.”

  “Oh um...”

  “We had a lot of help sir. And we're here to stay. That is if you'll have us.”

  The Governor cleared his throat. “Very well then, carry on, um...” the radio link died. Adam snorted at the expression on his parent's face.

  “You enjoyed that. Admit it,” he teased.

  “Maybe a little,” his father said chuckling and stroking his beard. He got to his feet. “Come on, we've got a lot of work ahead of us. We've got to get the city sorted out then get power to this defensive complex. If we can get it online then we can protect the city and the surrounding area from any pirates.”

  “What about bone face?” Teela asked, rubbing her wounded arm.

  “He's running. Let him run. We've already gotten the word out about him and his people. Wanted posters have hit the police net. They'll be caught.”

  “I'd still like to be there sir,” Teela said.

  “Yeah well, I'd like a lot of things, it doesn't necessarily mean I'll get everything I want. But if we work hard... maybe. Or at least we can see it happen. Hell, I don't mind not being there as long as the bastard is caught.”

  “True,” Duncan said, nodding. His friend clapped him on the shoulder. Duncan looked at the hand. “I'll check security.”

  <=={----------

  They managed to make a trade with the station for a new power cable. Randor also received parts for the city infrastructure in exchange for food stuff and semi-processed metals and materials. Eternia has some of the best glass fields on the planet, the iron concentration was below 1 part per billion. It also had other sources of silicon and graphite.

  Getting trade going was difficult. Randor and his wife spent long hours negotiating with people to get the trades worked out. When the coiled cable arrived it was a logistical nightmare getting it from the space port to where it needed to go.

  <=={----------

  A month after retaking the mountain complex they had finished the install. They had a quiet ceremony, marking the date of the successful test of the power cable and repair of the complex. “We're finally getting somewhere!” Jane said in triumph.

  “Well, minimally active,” a tech said, wrinkling his nose. He was dismayed by the work but Jane wasn't. She just rolled her sleeves up and dived into the work. Robots were busy cleaning and repairing what they could. She was still bitter, but maturing into a better woman through therapy. She led a therapy group for some of the other female victims of Skeletor.

  <=={----------

  Another month passed before Skeletor ran a raid, hitting the power cable and severing it with explosives. His raiders got in and out clean, driving off into the swamp to be lost in the tangle of trees and vines.

  Duncan sent out his fast reaction team but they didn't arrive in time. They did secure the site while work crews came from the mountain complex as well as Eternia to survey the damage.

  When they arrived Skeletor's men tried to snipe them from the tree line. Duncan sent robots to flank them. The snipers stayed a little too long, by the time they heard the robots crashing and buzzing in the bush and overhead they were almost surrounded. They ran, flushed out of their hides. They were trapped in a gulley and taken down in a barrage of weapons fire when they turned on their hunters and tried to fight their way out.

  Then, as the army team started to celebrate they got the garbled radio report of a fleet of pirate ships coming through the Beta 459C jump point. The emergency broadcast expected an imminent attack and instructed everyone to gather emergency supplies and find shelter.

  "Oh you gotta love the timing..." Duncan sighed, hefting his pulser. He swapped the half expended power pack with a new one h
e had in a pouch on his harness then carefully pocketed the old one. He turned surveying the broken cable.

  "Was it timing? Or was it pre-planning?" Randor mused, stroking his beard. He too was studying the cable.

  Cries of dismay echoed as word spread through the people. Randor motioned with his hands for the people to settle down and get back to work. He turned to Duncan.

  "I don't know. I don't know if we'll ever know. What's done is done now. Now we've got to figure out what to do about this," his friend replied. He looked up to the sky. "We've got to evacuate. The moment they know this place is offline they'll nuke it."

  "Crap," Randor replied, thinking of all the hard work they had put into the area. All the lives that would be impacted.

  “One good rock or missile and it's all over. We both know it,” Duncan said.

  “Yes, I...”

  “We can fix it. Give us a chance!” the Vinatelli girl said. She rushed past them to the break. “We've got a couple of days before the pirates get here right? So give me a chance!”

  “She's right,” Randor said. “But just to be on the safe side, I'm going to evacuate people to the caves along the shore anyway. An orderly evacuation started now will keep panic at bay.”

  “Good idea. GOTH plan,” Duncan replied.

  “Yeah, Go To Hell. I hope the damn Pirates do that very thing,” Randor growled, looking up at the sky. The sun was slowly setting, darkening the sky. Already they could see stars and the occasional artificial object like the Prime space station. He winced, that was going to be one hell of a juicy target. That and the newly finished orbital yard several million kilometers beyond. Not his problem, he thought. He turned to those around him. This, this here and his son, they were his problem. His people to lead and protect. He felt his wife capture his hand and squeeze it. He looked down and smiled briefly to her. She smiled back. They'd come this far, done the impossible. They could go on. The pirates had a surprise in store, that he'd guarantee. They'd worked too hard, faced stiffer odds. They'd get through it. “Let's get to work,” Randor said regally with a firm nod.

  Adam frowned up at the sky. He had no way to fight and he hated that. “Damn it,” he muttered. “If we only had a way to fight back!” he growled.

  Kringer eyed him. “Adam, let me tell you about this place on the other side of the island.”

  “Oh? Another place to hide?” Adam asked.

  “Not exactly. It's, well, this, well, a place my mom took me too. I barely remember it. I guess you could call it a castle...”

  The End

  Barkeep

  Events take place during Jethro 2.

  Lieutenant JG Teague Intel. Blond, undercover.

  Special agent Frank Sekim: Former Marine turned NCIS agent. Knows Montgomery (Monty)

  M'wvekii: Letanga's mother, aunt to Jethro. Leopard, works as prostitute in cat house.

  1st Lt John Montgomery: ONI senior agent in system Refuses position of G-2 of system.

  Jerald Holmes: Protagonist

  Mary: Female human, botanist/farmer trainee

  Marcus: crew of Midnight MX2

  Rick Bartender of the Double Fisted Mary. Squat heavyworlder.

  Penny: Senior waitress and wife of Rick

  Liam Valdez Kincaid: chief engineer of the station.

  Yardley: Bar regular, power technician

  Br'n Veraxin waitress

  Rack'th Veraxin chef

  A tall teen got off the small freighter ship Midnight MX2 at Anvil. He did his best to not look like a tourist, though his rough clothes made him stand out. The Veraxin on duty didn't twitch at his rough jerkin pants and off white and slightly stained shirt. He had after all, seen it all by now.

  After passing through customs Jerald immediately found and started looking through job listings. There weren't a lot of other passengers on his ship, the crew was hardly interested in finding a brief job, they just wanted to get past his lean frame and improvised duffel and on their way. He tucked the bag between his feet to keep it from getting kicked or stolen and kept studying the board intently.

  Jerald Holmes was a tall lad, mop of unruly red hair, freckles, broad shouldered like his father. He had a nice, innocent smile but surprisingly mature brown eyes. On his home planet he had been a heart breaker to the local farm girls, literally when he had chosen to leave the planet rather than settle down.

  The teen was the son of poor but respected taverners on the farm world New Haven. He had been the youngest son. He had grew up in the bar with his siblings, all girls. When he was ten he worked in a canary during the fall because the tavern business was slow. He deeply resented being pulled out of school permanently to support his family. His father had gruffly told him he was a man now, and had to do man's work.

  He had grown used to being pulled out of school for odd jobs or when the mid summer or fall harvest time hit. After all, such times were an all hands on deck sort of thing. He made up for it by studying voraciously, practically devouring every book they had in the small colony's meager library. But he had wanted more, he had seen faded photos of stars, old posters, he had wanted to explore.

  His father had died after he hadn't passed an infected kidney stone a year ago. Heartbroken, his mother had gone through the motions but had passed away from pneumonia during the long cold winter. His siblings had all settled down, as the youngest child he had been expected to carry on the Tavern and give each of them a cut of the profits. He however had his own plans, he had immediately sold the business and used his cut of the money and what little he had had in his savings to get a ticket on the next starship to Pyrax.

  He had heard for years that Anvil was the jewel of the system, a system named after gold, now it was time to find out if it was true. And he definitely wanted to be something more than a small town bartender. He had had his fill of cleaning up barf and getting stiffed on the bar tab.

  Right now he had a purpose, he had to find work. He thought he had had enough saved for a couple of weeks of living on the station, but a few of the crew had talked him into wagering that in a 'sure thing' and now he was almost broke. He needed to find work and a place to stay. Fast.

  Now that he was on the station he was hesitant, unsure of what to do and where to go. The board was out of his league, most of the jobs were way beyond his understanding. He felt a little depressed, how was a guy fresh off the ship supposed to get started? He wondered.

  “Problem citizen?” an artificial voice said.

  “Um, I'm sort of new here,” he said, fighting the awe at seeing a floating metal ball with arms bobbing next to him. You just didn't see such things back on New Haven.

  “Try the news board,” the robot said and then kept going.

  “Um, thanks,” he said, swiveling to watch it leave. He turned back to the board. He noted temp agent listing and frowned at them.

  “Remember what I said kid, watch out for... pick pockets, and gangs.” a familiar voice said. He turned and waved to Marcus. Marcus gave him a jaunty salute and then headed further into the busy station.

  Marcus had seemed like a good guy, honest at least. He had also warned Jerald away from the temp agents, “They tend to screw you,” he had said. “Watch your back with them. They give you shit jobs and take half. Some are really jacked, they charge you for food and rent, you could end up over your head fast kid, getting in deeper and deeper every day. So steer clear if you can.”

  Jerald shook his head. He looked through listings, menial jobs more his apparent speed, and was amused by all the different jobs. He'd thought they would be futuristic, and realized that the ones that were, were far out of his league, they required a formal education and of course, experience. He didn't mind hard work, but with his skills he's suddenly dismayed by his prospects. About the only thing available that he qualified for are general hand, cleaner, or bar keep. He turned at the sound of a motor. A robot was busy scrubbing the wall nearby. Hell, not even cleaner, they had bots for that. He wrinkled his nose.

  He sig
hed, there really was only one job that paid half way decent that he qualified for. He didn't like the idea, but he'd go for it. He was pessimistic though, but he applied for a junior bartender position at a bar called the 'Double Fisted Mary'.

  He tapped out his name and filled out the form on the wall. When they asked when he could start he tapped right away. He hit send and then was surprised when he got an immediate response. “Well! That was quick!” he said, blinking in consternation. The e-mail even had directions. He turned and oriented himself.

  He got lost twice and had to ask directions, but he finally got to where he was going. The bar was a bit run down, dark as most bars were, but it had that lived in man cave most people preferred. He nodded, fighting the urge to look around as he spotted the bartender.

  The bartender was a heavyset man, most likely a heavyworlder from the look of his broad shoulders and squat height. He'd do well as his own bouncer, even though he wore a white shirt, black bowtie and stained apron.

  “You the guy?” the gruff bald male asked.

  “Jerald Holmes sir. Pleased to meet you.”

  “About the job?” the guy grunted. Jerald nodded.

  “Fresh off the boat?” the guy asked, pausing. Jerald grimaced and nodded again. The guy chuckled, as did a few of the patrons leaning over their beers. “Toss your shit in the back and grab an apron kid. I've got tables that need clearing.”

  “Just like that?”

  “What you waiting for a formal invitation? Get your act together kid or you're out on your ear,” the bartender growled.

  “Ah... yes sir,” the lad said, moving to the door the man pointed to.

  “And be quick about it!” the man said.

  He had been picked up immediately as a busboy and server, he was a bit dismayed by it, but work was work. He worked hard, and at the end of the shift he split the tips with the three waitresses. He was exhausted, his feet were sore, and he was a bit amused that they had worked him a double shift. He hadn't even known the passage of time, it was just moving from one job to the next. He wasn't even hungry, just tired.