Payback Is a Given: Pirates of the Badlands Series Book 2

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Payback Is a Given: Pirates of the Badlands Series Book 2 Page 11

by Sean Benjamin


  “Sorry to have taken up your time, Sheriff.” Hawkins spoke as the four pirates made to leave, but Hobson’s wail stopped them. “Captain, I’m one of your crew!”

  It was absolutely the wrong thing to say, and Hawkins froze on his way to the door. He didn’t need the verbal reminder of the past relationship, and he was now driven to remove the symbol of it. He turned, but not to Hobson. He stopped when his eyes fell on the Sheriff. “Do you have his personal effects here?”

  “Sure. You want them? He won’t need them and nobody here will touch them.”

  “I’m only interested in one item. A dagger.”

  Paulsen scratched his head. “I did the inventory and I don’t remember a dagger. That’s something I wouldn’t likely forget.”

  “There is a dagger, Sheriff.” The young woman spoke up now, her voice stronger now that she could provide helpful information. She jerked her head toward the occupied cell. “He pawned it at Jimmy’s a couple of months ago. When Jimmy remembered who owned the dagger during the trial, he would have nothing to do with it, so he brought it down here and I put it in his stuff. It was after you inventoried the items so you never saw it, and I forgot to tell you.”

  “You pawned it!” Logan spoke for the first time as his head whipped toward the cell. One of the many reasons Logan always was on landing parties was his ability to stay quietly detached from all the activity going on around him, and then make the right move at the right time. He didn’t stay quiet now. He was a former petty officer in the Edinburgh Navy, and had joined the pirates when the Goths took over the Edinburgh system with plenty of help from people within the Burgh government and the Burgh security organizations. He had always felt his home system had been sold out by these homegrown traitors, so he placed a high premium on loyalty and the trappings that went with it. Regardless of the circumstances, one never, ever gave up the dagger. It was a symbol of loyalty and commitment. Logan moved toward Hobson. “You son of a bitch!”

  As he passed Tactical, she reached out and grasped his upper arm. “Not our party.” She spoke calmly. She thought of Hobson in past tense as of now. He no longer existed in her universe. Logan stopped at the restraint on his arm and took a couple of deep breaths. “You’re right. They deserve their payback.” He turned back to the door and quietly resumed his position.

  The Sheriff went to a tall two-door cabinet. He removed keys from his pants pocket, selected one, and inserted it. One click later, he turned the handle and opened the right door. Reaching down to the bottom shelf, Paulsen took a small canvas duffel bag out and dumped the contents on the floor in front of the cabinet. He shifted a few items around, reached in the pile, and withdrew a dagger in a scabbard. He walked a few steps to Hawkins and handed it to him.

  “We’ll pay for it to refund the pawn shop,” Hawkins told him as he slid the dagger in his right boot. The Sheriff shook his head.

  “No need. It’s yours.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff. You have been very hospitable to our rather rude visit. I thank you for that too.”

  Sheriff Paulsen shook his head affably and smiled. “No need for that either. Most excitement I’ve had around here in a while.”

  He walked over to the door. “I’ll walk across the street with you. People would have seen you enter and word travels fast here. Don’t want there to be any misunderstandings.”

  Raferty nodded. It was a sound idea and, his respect for the sheriff, already high, went up again. The sheriff opened the door, the four members of the landing party walked out first, and Paulsen followed. Just before closing the door, he stuck head back in the office and said, “Stay off the comm until I get back. Then you can gossip all you want. Last thing I want is a bunch of snoops down here right now.” Nobody heard a reply, but the Sheriff looked satisfied as he closed the door and took a place next to Hawkins as the party moved across the street to the landing pad. Halfway across the street a man yelled from the safety of a store entrance. “Everything alright, Greg?”

  “Everything is fine, Olaf. Go about your business.”

  The man was not so easily swayed. “What do they want?”

  “They got lost and wanted directions! Go about your business, Olaf. Not going to say it again.” The voice rang with authority now, and the store door quickly and quietly closed.

  The five people stopped in front of the port side hatch of the shuttle. Hawkins nodded toward the surroundings. “A few years ago, I visited a couple of other Agra planets in the system and they had been doing well, but it seems to be going downhill here. What happened?”

  The other three landing party members sensed a long conversation and silently turned and took a few paces away while maintaining a three hundred and sixty degree lookout.

  Sheriff Paulsen sadly shook his head. “Been some changes since you were probably in the system last. None of them for the good. The other Agras are doing better than us but not by much. For years we were all independent operators and we moved our products to market with independent freighters. We took what the market would bear. Some years better than others, but everyone managed to get by. Two years ago the Sunrise Grange moved into the System. Goth backed and lots of money. They wanted to buy our product and animals at a given price. Needless to say, it was lower than current market prices. Nobody on the five planets took them up on their offer. Then things started to happen. Independent freighters were threatened. Some who ignored the threats were attacked in space and disabled and, in one case, destroyed. Freighters started turning down our business. Replacement parts for irrigation systems and machinery suddenly were hard to get. Couldn’t grow our produce and, even what little we did grow, we couldn’t get it to market. Money dried up. Now we just grow enough to feed ourselves. We cannibalize parts to keep a few machines and irrigation systems going. The numbers of both keep shrinking. Most the young people have gone off planet and out of the system to find work. They send money back. We are just getting by now. Don’t see it getting better. The other four planets gave in and sell to the Grange, but they aren’t much better off than we are. They’re getting subsistence money only.”

  “Where you from?”

  Paulsen smiled, “How do you know I’m not from here?”

  Hawkins smiled in return, “Your accent is wrong and you’re too good at your job to be a small town sheriff who got the badge because he’s somebody’s brother-in-law. I’m thinking Potenka.”

  Paulsen continued to smile. “There’s a compliment in there somewhere. Truth is, I’m Potenka born and raised. Was a Potenka homicide detective and liked it well enough. My ancestors are from here and so is my wife, so we would visit from time to time. Finally decided to go for the simple life seven years ago. Good move at the time. I do love it here and I wish I could do something to make it better.”

  “Maybe you just did, Sheriff.”

  Hawkins made a mental note to run his name by Commissioner Catherine Putinsky of Potenka security. He hoped it would come back clean. He liked Paulsen. He put his hand out. “Thank you again for your kindness.”

  Paulsen shook his hand. “Not at all, Captain Hawkins.”

  Hawkins knew he had never introduced himself. He nodded in congratulation at the deductive power.

  “If I wanted to take an interest in getting into the agriculture business here, who would I talk to?”

  Paulsen reached into his shirt pocket and took out an old-fashioned notebook. He opened it and took out a folded sheet of paper. He unfolded it and handed it over. “List of comm numbers for all the leaders here. Keep that. I can print out another sheet in my office. Everyone on that list is good to go. We have a few who want to roll over for the Grange but they aren’t on the list.”

  Rafe scanned the list. “Who is the one guy who can be a single point of contact, organize things here, and not be intimidated when the Grange and their Goth friends turn up the heat?”

  The Sheriff smiled, “There is one guy, but he’s not on the list.”

  Rafe smiled back. “You?”r />
  Paulsen nodded. “Me.”

  Rafe handed the list back and Paulsen took out an old-fashioned pencil and added his name and information to the list. He returned it to the pirate.

  Rafe put the list in his pocket. “I have some challenges to get to first but I won’t forget you.”

  “We can use all the help we can get.”

  “Even from me?” The question was a gauge as to how Paulsen would view Hawkins involvement.

  “Especially from you. You might be one of the few people who can provide realistic help.”

  “My help tends to involve killing people and breaking their stuff.”

  Paulsen smiled, “Exactly what we need. The bad guys won’t respond or respect anything else.” His voice was light and cheerful.

  “I won’t forget.” Hawkins turned to the shuttle, entered a code on a pad next to the hatch, and it slid open.

  Paulsen asked one last question. He patted the shuttle. “How many people you got in here as a reaction force?”

  Hawkins smiled again. This guy was good. “Four men.”

  Paulsen smiled back. “Wouldn’t have needed them. You four could have broken Hobson out. I’m the only one you would have had to worry about. Nobody else around here is that brave.”

  “You would have been worth worrying about. Take care, Greg.”

  “You too, Raferty.”

  It was always good to make new friends and allies. Hawkins entered the shuttle and the other three followed. All nodded to the Sheriff as they passed him at the hatch. He nodded back to each one. Paulsen walked back across the street as the shuttle fired up. Tactical lifted the craft and quickly departed. She didn’t want to give anyone a chance to be brave. The return to the ship was done in silence. The Hobson problem was solved. Not to anyone’s satisfaction but it was solved. Time to move on.

  The shuttle approached the orbiting Predator. Passwords were exchanged, codes were employed, and the shuttle was granted permission to land. The hangar door slid open and the shuttle passed through, settling on the deck. The door closed and the compartment pressurized. Lights in the surrounding bulkheads switched from red to green and the overhead floodlights brightened. The shuttle hatch opened and Hawkins was first out. The hatch at the opposite end of the bay from the large hangar doors opened and Ace (or Joker) entered. He was followed by other maintenance people anxious to hear of their former comrade. Raferty walked up to Ace, reached in his boot and pulled out the sheathed dagger “Destroy this.” The command was direct and harsh. Everyone knew what it meant and nobody said a word. People looked off to the side, at their feet, any place but at their captain.

  Ace was equally succinct. “Of course, Captain.” He took the dagger tentatively.

  Hawkins realized his command had been blunter than he had intended. “Thank you.” Rafe patted Ace on the shoulder and moved to exit through the hatch through which Ace had entered. The other members of the landing party followed. Nobody said a thing. They didn’t have to. Word would get around.

  Moving through the passageways in a column, the landing party members started peeling off to resume their duties. Just as Blondie stopped at her stateroom door Rafe spoke up. “Blondie, my day cabin in fifteen.”

  Blondie looked at his retreating back as he continued down the passageway. She was surprised but instinctively replied, “Aye, Captain.”

  Chapter 14

  Fifteen minutes later, Blondie had moved up the passageway and stopped in front of the Captain’s day cabin hatch. She subconsciously straightened her clothes and cleared her throat. She suddenly realized this was the first time she would be alone with the Captain. She did not know the topic of the meeting but wanted it to go well. She knocked.

  “Come.”

  Blondie entered and stood at quasi attention just inside the hatch. Rafe motioned to a seat in front of his desk. He held one finger up in a “just a minute” gesture as he worked on his computer. Blondie glanced around the cabin as she waited in her chair. No matter what rank you were, your personal space aboard ship was always limited. You could learn much about a person by seeing what he or she put into that small space. It told you what they valued and what made them comfortable in their own space. Raferty Hawkins had many books on shelves. Most were in used condition and obviously of no great value, but she had heard he would get them whenever the opportunity arose. She could see a few titles and saw no pattern or favorite authors. It was a very eclectic collection. He just seemed to like books. She glanced back at Hawkins and saw him observing her with a slight smile.

  “Tactical has a lot of books too. We trade back and forth. If you see something of interest, feel free to borrow it.”

  He wrapped up his computer work by hitting the send key with a flourish. His request for Commissioner Putinsky’s opinion on Greg Paulsen was on its way. He turned to Blondie. He leaned back in his swivel chair with his left elbow on the chair arm and his chin resting in his left hand. He regarded her with interest. A few seconds passed as he was considering his words.

  “I don’t know where to start actually. I usually stay out of a crewmember’s personal business. Makes life easier for everyone. But you made a couple of comments on the planet that piqued my interest. Apparently, a few things I thought about the Aurora Empire are not true, and I want to get it right. Now you don’t have to answer any questions because, quite honestly, it’s none of my business.” He stopped and let it sink in. Blondie gave a go-ahead nod and Rafe moved on. “Were the statements about your family true?”

  Blondie nodded, “Yes, every word.”

  “Now I know you attended The Academy, and I always thought students and their families had to pay their own way through Space U, and the bill was higher than hell. I know that back in the olden days, The Academy was originally set up to be expensive so only the nobility could afford to send their children there and thus be commissioned into the officer corps for the Navy and Marine Corps. So the nobility controlled the military by dominating the officer ranks. In recent decades, with the rise of large corporations and the new commercial class, the newly rich business people could send their kids to the school, but everyone else was still closed out due to cost. There are no scholarships and no financial aid. So how did you get through the school if your family has no great wealth?”

  Blondie stared off into the middle distance and was clearly weighing her response. Hawkins again offered her a way out with a gentle voice. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. I won’t be offended.”

  Blondie set her expression and made the decision to talk about the sensitive topic. “My family is from Aquitaine. They have always been farmers, small business people, and just average folks going about their lives. Ever since I was a little girl, I always wanted to go The Academy. I got jobs as soon as I was legally old enough and the money went into my academy fund. Everyone in my family pitched in for years. Not only my immediate family, but aunts, uncles, cousins, and everyone else. I have two younger brothers and a younger sister and they never got a college fund of their own. We scraped for years. I studied hard, took the entrance exam, and got in. I had to buy second-hand uniforms, books, and equipment. I never left campus for fun trips, and I didn’t go home during school breaks because I couldn’t afford the money. For my last year at school, my family took out loans on our farm to cover my expenses. I worked hard and graduated number seven in my class. I should have gotten my first choice for duty assignment. I wanted to go to the propulsion lab on Zelenka. I didn’t get it. My second choice was assignment to a combat ship as a line officer. I didn’t get that. My third choice was medical school. I didn’t get that. Near as I can tell everyone in the top fifty places of the class got their first choice except me. Intel wasn’t even on my list but here I am. My family has no connections, and there was no need for anyone to accommodate me no matter how well I performed. My family sacrificed for years for me and I ended up as an intel drone in a fleet that is babysitting the home systems. I am not even in the damn war.
The simple fact is, I never had a chance to get to where I wanted to go, but I was too stupid to know it. Social class matters, and I did not realize that until it was far too late.”

  She paused to take a breath. She had never told anyone of her disappointment. She couldn’t even tell her family all the sacrifice they had done on her behalf had largely been for nothing. They were very proud of her for her accomplishments and of themselves for their shared sacrifice. She went on with little pause. “One of the things I hope comes out of this war is the recognition that we need our best talent in key positions in the military. The best people should get into The Academy regardless of finances or social class. The people of the Empire deserve it.”

  Blondie suddenly went silent. She realized she had said more than she had intended. But her audience was still with her. She had Hawkins’ undivided attention. Blondie took another breath and changed topics. “I have made more important decisions here than I ever made in the Fleet. Those promises you made to me when we first met, so far every one of them has come true. You gave me a real chance. Regardless of what happens on our mission, I am glad I came here, and I hope I don’t let you down, Captain.”

  Hawkins smiled at her. “Not a chance in hell of that happening, Blondie. I know you’ll be top notch no matter what is thrown at us. You’re a natural pirate.” He then smiled at her. “Not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”

  “Thank you, Captain. I will definitely take it as one.” Her voice was slightly choked up. A moment passed. Blondie then asked, “May I ask you a question?”

  Hawkins shrugged. “Seems only fair.”

  “I think the only reason you had me on the landing party was so you could ask me about Hobson’s guilt. Is that true?”

  Hawkins nodded. “Yes. I believe in woman’s intuition, especially in matters like Hobson. Some men exude some sort of energy that women pick up on but other men usually don’t. Hobson was an extreme case so we all picked up on him, but I didn’t know that would happen until I saw him. It’s no coincidence Tactical and/or Baby Doll always go with me when I leave the ship. They see things I don’t.”

 

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