"Twingo, we're in!" Jason said over the intercom. "Get us the hell out of here as fast as she'll fly." Even before he'd released the intercom button the deck began to vibrate as the engines built power and he felt the ship lift herself off the ground.
"How's he going to be?" Jason asked, approaching Doc and Lucky, almost afraid to look down on the bed.
"I don't know how, but he's still alive," Doc said. "The level of trauma is severe; some of it occurred well before today. He has a long way to go, but I'm tentatively saying that if he makes it through the next twenty-five hours he has a much better chance of pulling through. I'll know more after a few hours and he's had a chance to stabilized."
"I'll take first watch with him," Jason said. "Lucky, you go get yourself cleaned up. Doc, grab some rest and chow ... you'll need to be at your best in the coming few days, I think."
It was some time after the other two left when he heard Crusher stir next to him. As he watched he was amazed as the warrior’s eyes simply popped open, fully alert, albeit confused. He looked around the cargo bay for a few moments before fixing Jason with an intense stare.
"I'm out," he said simply. "No more. I don't want any more." Jason sat back in his chair and tried to ponder what he had meant as Crusher fell back into a deep sleep.
Chapter 6
"After Crusher left we tried to keep it together for a bit longer, but it was never really the same," Jason said. "Kage was the first to leave afterward and then Doc decided he wanted to return to doing research in a lab. Twingo, Lucky and I ended up out here shuffling light cargo until eventually it was just Lucky and I running a few hard-won contracts."
"This ship you spoke of, the Phoenix ... that cannot be the same ship I snuck onto," Kalette said.
"Actually—"
"Good morning," Lucky said before he could answer. "I apologize for not informing you that Kalette requested to stay here last night, Jason."
"No problem," Jason said. "We were just having a talk."
"Oh?" Lucky asked, his interest obviously piqued. "Might I ask what about?"
"Just telling her some war stories about the old crew," Jason shrugged. "Something to pass the time."
"I see," Lucky said. "We have received a message from the Defiant. Doc is on his way back down to speak with Kalette."
"He is the 'Doc' you spoke of from your old crew?" she asked. When Jason nodded, she continued, "Why does he now work with Crisstof? Does he have no loyalty for Crusher?"
"He does," Jason said uncomfortably. "But it's a bit more complicated than all that. Doc is an idealist before anything else and he'd lived the sheltered life of an academic before we were all tossed in together. If there's a chance to accomplish something good, like helping people affected by a plague, he'll swallow his pride and do whatever it takes to get it done."
She seemed to consider this for a moment. "I suppose that has a sort of dignity all its own," she said.
"Well said," Lucky said. "I am going to the market for breakfast. I will return before Doc arrives." He turned and left before Jason could put in a special request or Kalette could make any dietary requirements known.
"Is he always so imperious?" she asked Jason.
"You have no idea," Jason groused. "He continually claims I'm in charge of this operation, but I've never been bossed around so much in my life. He does enjoy getting out among the locals, though. That wasn't always the case."
"Don't they find it odd that a metal being comes into their market center to buy food?" she asked.
"They're used to it by now," Jason said. "The locals aren't overly sophisticated and I'm beginning to suspect some have started worshiping him as a shiny, well-spoken god."
"You jest!" she said with a bright laugh that Jason found adorable. Where the hell did that come from?
"Mostly," he said with a smile, the expression actually feeling odd on his face after wearing a permanent scowl for so long. "There's only a single bathroom in this place. If you'd like to go get cleaned up first I'll see where Lucky put your clothes."
"Thank you, Jason Burke," she said, rising from the chair. "I will not be long."
Jason just shook his head as she walked into the house. He had a bad feeling his life was going to be seriously disrupted by the girl. It wasn’t that he was particularly fond of his existence as it was currently, but at least it was familiar.
****
"No Crisstof this time?" Jason said by way of greeting as Doc walked in the front door.
"He felt his presence was an uncomfortable disruption," Doc said as he and Jason embraced. The pair had had their many differences, but Jason was genuinely happy to see his old friend.
"Hey! He's not as stupid as I thought," Jason said as he walked back into the kitchen area where the surreal vision of a battlesynth cooking breakfast over an antique stove greeted them.
"You know that's a lot of the problem, Jason," Doc said, blinking as he watched Lucky flipping an assortment of local vegetables in a pan like a professional chef.
"Don't ask," Jason muttered. "He's taken a real shine to cooking recently for some reason. Anyway ... what's a lot of the problem?"
"You're always so combative," Doc said as he took a seat. "We made our choice, but Crisstof also had to make his. He had a lot more at stake than a single person's life."
"We've talked this to death," Jason said, dismissing the subject with a wave. "Crusher deserved a better effort than Crisstof gave no matter the circumstances. He'd earned that much. By the way, how are the Galvetic Marines doing?"
"They're gone," Doc admitted. "I keep mostly to myself when aboard the ship, for obvious reasons, but I heard there was serious discontent in the ranks after they'd discovered what happened on Faulli. Mazer learned that Crusher had returned to Galvetor and gave Kellea notice that they intended to depart as soon as their contract was up." Doc looked at Jason expectantly, waiting for him to ask the obvious question after he'd mentioned Kellea's name. Jason refused to take the bait.
"Was it Crisstof's lack of concern for their Guardian Archon or his trying to hide the facts afterwards that pissed them off the most?" he asked instead.
"I'd say a sixty-forty split of both those factors," Doc said. "Crisstof had been beside himself that he'd lost control of such a valuable asset. In the end he released them early and took them back to—could you be any less obvious with that smile on your face?"
"Hmm?" Jason asked innocently. "Oh, sorry. Please continue."
"As I was saying," Doc went on, rolling his eyes, "he released them from their contract and had them flown back to Restaria. They had made it pretty clear they had no intention of giving much of an effort on any new missions Crisstof had for them."
"Poor Crisstof," Jason said in mock sympathy. "He had to learn the hard way that there are consequences to using and manipulating people."
"I don't think that's a fair—"
"Hello, Doc," Kalette said as she walked out into the main living area. She had put Jason's shirt back on while her hair dried.
"Good morning, Kalette," Doc said, giving a Jason a look that was equal parts exasperation and disgust. Jason shook his head emphatically at the unsaid accusation and pointed at Lucky's back. Doc waved off Jason's protestations and made a choking motion with his right hand, the old Omega Force gesture for when someone was screwing things up beyond all measure.
"Am I interrupting?" Kalette asked as she watched the silent conversation of hand gestures for a moment.
"Not at all," Doc said. "Please, have a seat."
"Jason has been entertaining me this morning with tales of your old crew," she said as she slid into one of the chairs surrounding the table.
"Really?" Doc asked in genuine surprise. "How was I portrayed in these tales?"
"A reluctant participant, maybe," Kalette said, squinting her eyes as she gave the off-the-cuff question serious consideration.
"That describes most of my adult life," Doc muttered sourly. "Anyway, while I'm thrilled at the chance to vis
it with my old friends, I did come back down to the surface to talk specifically to you."
"Let me save you some time," Kalette said, raising her hand in the galaxy's universal sign for stop. "I do not trust Crisstof Dalton. There are many reasons for this, not the least of which is his convenient timing in showing up here almost the exact instant I did. I will not go with him willingly."
"What would be your preferred outcome at this juncture, Kalette?" Lucky asked as he walked from the kitchen balancing three plates on one arm and clutching three sets of flatware in the opposite hand.
"I need to find a way to get word back to the Empire," she said. "They need to know the exact details of what happened to the netjere. But I need to do this without escaping from one bad situation and immersing myself into another."
"So simple transport would be your main priority?" Lucky asked. Jason dug into the plate in front of him, completely oblivious to where Lucky was leading the conversation, as Doc picked at the food suspiciously with the two-pronged fork he'd been given.
"Yes," Kalette said.
"So if you were to find someone who had an interstellar ship capable of transporting you somewhere from which you could make contact with your people, that would be acceptable?" Lucky asked.
"Yes," Kalette said again, this time with more hesitation and confusion at the convoluted questioning. The words had been flowing around Jason while he ate, but his eyes popped open as they finally sunk in and he nearly choked on his food.
"Now wait a damn minute!" he started, only to be interrupted by a moaning from Doc that stopped the conversation cold and made them all wonder what the hell he was doing under the table. "You alright there, buddy?"
"Lucky, this is incredible," Doc said, talking around a mouthful and ignoring Jason completely. "I haven't eaten anything this good since the last time we were on Aracoria. Where did you learn to do this?"
"When I inquired about how to prepare local foods at the market the vendors were kind enough to instruct me. I have been experimenting on my own since then," Lucky said, beaming. "I am very pleased you like it."
"Like it?!" Doc said. "This is exquisite, and I'm not just saying that because I've been eating ship food for a month."
"The Defiant's mess deck isn't exactly 'ship food,'" Jason said, waving at Doc to shut up and go back to his meal. "I see where you're steering this, you sneaky bastard, and the answer is no, for a few reasons."
"Such as?" Lucky pressed.
"That pile of garbage can't make the flight, for starters," Jason said hotly. "At least not if we all want to survive the trip. Second, we can't ignore the contracts we have here. Third—"
"Would I be correct in assuming there would be a substantial reward for your return?" Lucky asked Kalette.
"Oh yes," she said, nodding emphatically. "The Sovereign would be most generous."
"That's not the point!" Jason insisted.
"Then what is your point, Jason," Lucky said calmly, not letting up.
"This isn't what we do anymore!" Jason shouted. "Omega Force is gone, Lucky. You and I are just a couple of junk haulers now."
"No, this is just what we are doing at the present," Lucky insisted. "This is not who we are."
"Why can't you just accept—"
"Please! Stop!" Kalette cried out sharply. "I do not wish to be the reason for this fighting among friends. I will find another way."
"I apologize for our lack of manners, Kalette," Jason said calmly, standing up. "If you'll all excuse me." Without waiting for an answer he walked out the back door and down onto the beach, trying to put some distance between himself and the conversation he'd left behind.
He walked aimlessly along the beach for a bit, lost in his thoughts. The nice thing about having a local population that had an inherent fear of the open water was that the beach was almost always deserted. He found a place to sit where he could watch the waves, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't push the intruding and unwelcome thoughts from his head.
"That annoying bastard," he said in disgust, kicking an offending pile of sand as he stood up. "He can never just leave well enough alone."
The sun was pushing up to its midday zenith so Jason knew he must have been sitting for a couple of hours, but he could hardly account for the time, so lost was he in his own head. He retraced his steps back to his house, unsure about how to proceed once he got there. Part of him wanted to wash his hands of the entire mess that had, literally, dropped into his lap. But Lucky's words had burrowed into his mind and had been turning over and over ever since he'd stormed out of his own kitchen like a petulant child.
"This is not who we are ..."
Chapter 7
Jason could hear murmured voices as he walked up the back steps to his house. Despite all the other fantastic tweaks and enhancements Doc had performed on his body, his hearing was still vintage Homo sapiens, although all the damage that had been done to them over years around loud machinery and weapons fire had been repaired. He was relieved to hear three voices still: Lucky, Doc, and Kalette. When the second step from the top creaked loudly all conversation inside ceased.
They were all looking at him as he walked into the house a bit shamefaced. Kalette wore an expression of hope while Doc looked at him expectantly. Even Lucky, who had very little in the way of facial expression, seemed to watch him with a certain satisfaction as if he already knew what Jason had decided.
"Sorry for walking out earlier," he said. "I suppose we need to figure out the best way to go about getting this done."
"Does this mean you will help me?" Kalette asked.
"It does," Jason nodded. "Even though I'm standing by everything I said earlier, we can't very well send you out alone and just hope for the best. There are a lot of predators out there and too many lives hang in the balance to leave this to chance."
"What's our first move?" Doc asked.
"We relax," Jason said. "There are some arrangements that need to be made and plans to be finalized. First thing you need to do is make contact with the Defiant and tell them that you think you're making real progress and to standby for further updates. How did you get down here?"
"They let me borrow a short-range shuttle," Doc said. "Why?"
"Perfect," Jason said. "Take my ground car and head to the shuttle, then pull up the Defiant's orbital data. The nav computer should have an updated course for the ship. Download it to your com unit and then get back here."
"Why do you need the Defiant's orbital data?" Doc asked.
"You are rusty at this, aren't you?" Jason said shaking his head. "If we fly our ship out of here and that battlecruiser is sitting up there waiting on us, we won't make it very far."
"Oh, right," Doc said. "I'm not used to those considerations since we were always the fastest thing in the sky."
"Get used to it," Jason said. "Not only are we now in the running for least fastest, but we're also a strong contender for least reliable. Lucky, take Kalette into town and get her some clothes and anything else she may need for an extended space flight."
"What will you be doing?" Lucky asked.
"I'll see to getting our ship prepped and fueled for departure," Jason answered. "I'm going to try to call in a favor at the spaceport. I'm sure the Defiant is keeping an eye on both the house and our ship every time it passes overhead. If the spaceport crews are doing it hopefully it will appear to just be contract maintenance."
"Thank you, Jason," Kalette said, bowing her head slightly. "Thank you, all. I cannot fully express my gratitude."
"I'd hold off on that until we actually deliver something," Jason said with a half-smile. "The outcome of our missions doesn't always line up with our original intentions."
****
Once the trio had left the house, Jason made the call to the spaceport to arrange servicing for his ship, but that only took around five minutes. He looked around the empty house, unsure as to what he should do next. Despite his vocal misgivings and complaining, he was practically buzzing wit
h excitement at the prospect of another real mission. He rarely admitted it to himself, and never out loud where anyone could hear, but he desperately missed his old job. Being a glorified delivery driver wasn't something he had ever aspired to. It was honest enough work, but it just wasn't for him.
As he paced aimlessly about the house he caught his own reflection in the mirror and instantly found what he could do next while he waited. His hair hadn't been cut for at least six months, and he actually couldn't recall precisely when he'd last shaved. Judging by the full, unkempt beard it had been a while.
After fifteen minutes in the bathroom with a set of clippers and a "razor" that actually used lasers to take out the hair all the way inside the follicle he began to feel like his old self. Now clean shaven and with his hair buzzed up the sides in a sort of "high and tight" style he walked into his room and stripped down before pulling a squat crate from the back of the walk-in closet.
Inside was the familiar gray uniform he'd been wearing when his crew had split up. He pulled out the loose cargo pants and top and set them on the bed before pulling out the soft black boots and a belt that still had a holster with a powerful plasma sidearm secured in it. Omega Force had always tried hard to stay anonymous so there were no insignias or name on the uniform, but Jason had a definite change in attitude as he put his old clothes on nonetheless.
Noise from inside the house broke him out of his reverie and he shook his head with a rueful chuckle, feeling a bit foolish at the introspection. They were just clothes, after all. He shut the lid to the crate after inventorying the rest of the contents, slipped his boots on, and walked out to see who had arrived back first.
Kalette gave a startled yelp when she saw him walk out of the hallway from the bedroom. "Jason?"
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