“I’ve touched base with Cinnamon Station General Hospital One myself,” he said. “Officially, Ms. Soprano was in an unfortunate industrial accident and was never anywhere near the godawful mess they discovered in the uninhabited section of the station.”
He smiled thinly.
“Conroy refused to elaborate to me on what happened beyond that he saved you from some attack. I don’t poke at that man’s business as a rule, but I hope that things didn’t go too badly…”
“I lost a crewwoman,” David said shortly. “I’d call that going pretty badly.”
“Damn. So would I. My condolences, Captain.” Miller shook his head. “One never believes this kind of incident would happen in one’s home. What a mess.”
“From what I can tell, I brought my own problems with me,” David replied. “You know Conroy, though?”
“As much as anyone knows the Conroys,” the New Madagascan businessman confirmed. “Well enough to know that they’re not merely the trade factors they officially are. They don’t cause problems for my planet, I don’t ask too many questions.”
He shrugged.
“I keep an ear to the ground on their activities,” he admitted, “and if I thought they were a problem, I’d have told the authorities, but they seem quite on the up-and-up for, well, smugglers.”
David snorted. There were tiers of ethics and morals among smugglers. He’d classed himself in the category more than once, after all.
“And our business?” he asked delicately.
“Everything I’ve seen so far says the cargo is intact and delivered well in advance of the expected arrival,” Miller agreed. “There are some penalties on the original contract, but those are between myself and Silk Star, not you.
“I’ll authorize payment of ninety percent of the balance outstanding, the last ten percent to be released once we’ve retrieved the cargo and made certain of the lack of damage,” he continued. “The contract also calls for a bonus for prompt delivery, which will be released with the holdback.
“Acceptable, Captain?”
“Good enough,” David allowed. “Conroy said he was supposed to be at our meeting last night?”
“He was. I had been asked to make introductions,” Miller confirmed. “As it seems he ended up making his own introductions, my involvement in his affairs can now safely end.” The ex-baker grinned widely.
“I regard Leonard Conroy as a personal friend,” he noted. “But after eighty years in this game, I can smell when a man’s business is something I want to be well clear of.”
And that, David suspected, was all the warning he was going to get.
MARIA WAS FAR TOO familiar with the standardized room and equipment of the medical suites the Protectorate mass-produced and sold to its member worlds for cheap. The itch in her shoulder was new, though—she’d spent her military career aboard starships and had avoided being shot until today.
When Rice arrived to check in on her, she was still wearing the flimsy hospital gown. Her Captain averted his eyes from her body as she sat up to greet him, which gave her a soft laugh.
“We both made it through the Navy, David,” she teased. “I doubt I’m the first woman you’ve seen in a hospital gown—or less! I saw the picture of your lover in your office, after all.”
Rice chuckled.
“I’m just glad you didn’t decide to call her my ‘mistress’ or some such garbage,” he replied. “I suspect Keiko might hunt me down and kill me if I allowed someone to call her that.”
“Dangerous company you keep,” Maria noted. “And attract. What the hell was that, Captain?”
He glanced around the room. Private patient rooms were supposed to be just that: private. Maria wasn’t sure she’d trust it that far, but she was also far too impatient to wait to find out what had happened.
“Apparently, my past caught up with us,” he murmured. “Fortunately, some old friends did the same and intervened. They may have work for us.”
Maria nodded and sighed. There was only one set of old friends that would have work for Rice here, one set whose involvement would explain MISS wanting them to travel to New Madagascar.
“Legatus.”
“How did you know?” he demanded.
“Lucky guess,” she said. “It was either station security or someone’s special ops team that saved us—no one else would have enough firepower.” She shook her head. “And station security was clearly ignoring the mess. Plus, they wouldn’t have work for you.”
“You may be too smart for your own good,” Rice told her. “I don’t know details yet. We’re still off-loading our cargo from Cinnamon, but then I have a meeting with a Legatan ‘expat’ trade factor.
“If you’re up for it, I’d rather have you at my back.”
“A Mage might hurt your chance at the deal,” she replied.
“I doubt it,” Rice said. “But if it did, I wouldn’t want to work for them. I prefer to work for the sane Legatans.”
Maria shook her head at him warningly.
“You know they’re the dangerous ones, right?”
“I do,” he admitted. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah. They do good work and have good gear,” she told him. “I’ll be back aboard by night shift, though I’ll be going straight to medbay and staying there for another day.”
“Good first officer,” Rice agreed. “Let me know if you need anything. I don’t like people getting shot on my behalf.”
Maria winced.
“What about Ambrose?” she asked.
“Her will called for her body to be cremated and her ashes and effects shipped to Mars,” the Captain told her. “Her family will deal with funeral arrangements there. We’ll have a memorial once we’re back in space.”
“Good plan. Keep things quiet.”
“Every minute I spend in the UnArcana worlds makes my skin itch,” David replied. “I’ve been stabbed in the back way too often in these systems.”
“It must be your incredible ability to make friends,” she told him.
He laughed and shook his head at her.
“Get better, Ship’s Mage,” he ordered. “I don’t plan on staying here a single day more than necessary.”
MARIA WAS COMPLETELY unsurprised and quite pleased to find Acconcio waiting for her at the hatch to the ship as the nurse delivered her wheelchair into Red Falcon’s spin pseudo-gravity.
“I got her from here,” the tactical officer said gruffly. “You need to walk me all the way to the medbay?”
The nurse smiled—but also very clearly looked at Maria for her confirmation that this was okay. Good man.
“Iovis is good,” she told him. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, Lokosta.”
“Part of the service, ma’am,” the nurse replied with a head-bob. “If you’re in good hands, I’ll leave you be. Take care of yourself.”
“As much as I can, Nurse Lokosta. As much as I can,” Maria promised.
The nurse disappeared back into Darwin Orbital, his task complete and his day, like that of any medical professional in the galaxy, vastly busy and far from over.
“How are you doing?” Acconcio asked softly, taking over pushing the wheelchair along Falcon’s corridors.
“I was shot,” she pointed out. “I was looking forward to having a nice dinner tonight, not being stuck in the medbay, being poked and prodded by yet another doctor.”
He chuckled.
“Well, hopefully, we’ll still be on the station for at least a day after you’re out of Dr. Gupta’s skilled hands,” he told her. “I can wait if you still want that dinner.”
He shook his head.
“I was worried when I heard about last night,” he told her. “Didn’t expect you to get dragged into the Captain’s business here.”
“I’m the Ship’s Mage,” Maria replied, leaning back in the wheelchair to rest her head against his chest. “I’m in the ship’s business everywhere.”
“That’s the job, I suppose,” Acconci
o agreed sadly. “Just wish I was doing a better job of keeping you safe!”
“Hard to protect us aboard the station when your tools are lasers and missiles, Iovis,” she reminded him gently. “Leave that to Skavar—and he did a damn fine job.”
There was no need to tell everyone the Captain had been saved by Legatan spies. That was a complication they could keep to themselves, she figured.
21
Returning to the station several days later, David made absolutely certain to verify the address they were heading to and the directions with Conroy before they even set foot on Darwin Orbital. He had a hard limit of “once per star system” on being nearly asphyxiated.
This time, however, his escort and Ship’s Mage went unchallenged as they returned to the plain offices of the trade brokerage run by Leonard and Rihanna Conroy, expatriate Legatans working on behalf of several of New Madagascar’s midsized import and export firms.
He had to wonder how many of them, like Shayne Miller, knew just who they were working with. No one in an UnArcana system was going to complain about working with Legatan covert operatives, after all. So far as he could tell, nothing the Conroys were doing was remotely illegal.
They just hid their active allegiances, and that wasn’t a crime, last time he checked.
If it was, he wasn’t going to take bets on how many of his crew were guilty of it. The visible and invisible reach of the Mage-King was long, and at least some of his crew were less ex-military than his ship was.
His most likely candidate for that status was with him today, however, and Skavar wasn’t raising any complaints about them meeting with people he knew were Legatan Augments. He’d brought two full fire teams of security with them, eight troopers, but that was more a reaction to their last trip aboard station as anything else.
And if there happened to be the components of several bipod-mounted heavy penetrator rifles hidden under the jackets of David’s security detail, he was sure that was entirely an accident, as the weapons required to take down exosuits were entirely illegal aboard Darwin Orbital.
The size of his group clearly shocked the young woman holding down the front desk at Conroy & Conroy.
“Can I help you?” she asked slowly.
“I’m Captain David Rice,” he told her. “My Ship’s Mage and I have an appointment with Leonard Conroy.” He smiled. “Everyone else is going to ask you for a recommendation for a nearby café and come back when we’re done.”
“That won’t be necessary, Captain,” Conroy’s voice boomed from behind the reception desk. “Nellie, Conf Three is open as well, right?”
“Yes, boss.”
“Throw some extra chairs in there for Rice’s people and get them coffees and sandwiches.” The Augment grinned. “Believe me, given the size of the good Captain’s ship and what hiring him is going to cost me, I’m not even going to notice feeding his security.”
The young lady flashed her boss a strained smile but nodded her understanding.
“Of course,” she confirmed aloud. “If you ladies and gentlemen will come with me? Captain Rice, Mage Soprano, it seems Mr. Conroy was waiting for you.”
“Thank you, Nellie,” Conroy told her. “Hold any calls until we’re done as well. Anything urgent, send it over to Rihanna. She knows I’m in Conf One.”
“Of course, boss.”
“Now.” Conroy turned back to David and Soprano, offering his hand to the Mage. “Mage Soprano, a pleasure. You were unconscious when we last met.”
“David tells me you carried me to safety,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
“By the time I was carrying you, things were already quite safe,” the Augment replied. “But yes, I got you into the hands of Darwin Orbital’s capable EMTs. They did good work?”
Soprano shifted her shoulder.
“Bit stiff still,” she admitted. “But I think so. I’ve never been shot before.”
“It’s an…illuminating experience, isn’t it?” Conroy said. “Shall we move into Conference Room One and talk business, Captain, Mage?”
THE CONFERENCE ROOM was a beige space, plain colors and furniture clearly designed to be the opposite of ostentatious and do the opposite of be remembered. Conroy gestured the two Red Falcon officers to seats at the table and poured them coffees.
“Anything stronger in the coffee?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Too early for me, thanks,” David replied. Soprano just shook her head, but the Legatan grinned broadly and poured a generous dollop of rum into his own drink.
“Guess it bothers most people more than me,” he said brightly, placing the coffees in front of them and sliding a tray of milk and sugar across the table.
David had never met a senior starship officer who put anything in their coffee except occasionally alcohol. Neither he nor Soprano were exceptions, and they sipped their coffee black while Conroy paused to marshal his thoughts.
“We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have work for you,” he finally said. “I’m sure it’s not a shock that we need it done under the radar with a degree of, shall we say, misdirection.”
“I’m not overly interested in getting tied up in anything illegal,” David replied. He’d had enough of that crap to last him several lifetimes—not to mention Legatan cargos that ended up somewhere other than they were supposed to.
“Nothing illegal, Captain Rice,” Conroy said. “I’ve read your file. I’m not asking you to ship guns or slaves or drugs or anything that’s going to hurt anyone.”
“If you’ve read my file, you know why I won’t ship anything without knowing exactly what it is,” Red Falcon’s Captain replied. He’d made that mistake once—and found himself with a cargo of about ten thousand cryo-frozen teenagers destined for involuntary participation in the sex trade.
They hadn’t ended up at their planned destination—and Mikhail Azure’s son had ended up dead, resisting arrest. Not asking questions had led to a lot of David’s problems.
“Fair enough,” Conroy allowed. “For reasons I won’t go into, I have been stockpiling cargo here that I haven’t been able to ship. I actually have more than even you can carry, but twenty million tons will bring my backlog back down to something I can stuff in a few passing regular tramps.”
David grunted noncommittedly. He was starting to realize that the biggest disadvantage of Red Falcon was that finding twenty million tons going one direction was hard. He had a massive, fast, capable ship…and he was realizing it was hard to turn down a cargo that could actually fit his ship.
“The cargo is pretty rough raw material,” the Legatan continued. “Partially refined here in New Madagascar, so you’re not hauling straight rock, but…” He shrugged. “Iron, titanium, cerium, gadolinium, about a dozen other -iums. About half is iron and titanium; the other half is rare earth and heavy elements.”
“I assume you have the proper containers for your stack of magnets and radioactives?” David asked.
“Of course,” Conroy confirmed. “Everything is perfectly safe and contained. That’s not the catch.”
David sighed.
“And the catch?”
“Officially, this cargo is going to Legatus,” the spy replied. “In reality, it needs to go somewhere else. I…can’t really say where unless you agree to take the job, but I will promise you that it’s not an UnArcana world.”
“That’s reassuring,” David said dryly. “This whole mess still sounds like a trap to me, Conroy. Why exactly would I get involved?”
“Because I pay well,” the trade broker replied. “I’ll pay you a hundred percent premium over standard carriage rates, plus information.”
“What information?” Soprano demanded. “This sounds like you’re asking us to get involved in Legatan covert operations.”
“Nothing so outré, Mage Soprano,” he told her. “Officially sanctioned smuggling at worst. How much trouble do you really think we can cause with twenty million tons of metal and magnets?”
“If my math i
s right, about two cruiser-equivalent warships,” she said. “That’s not nothing.”
“Fair,” Conroy allowed. “Assuming we had some secret shipyard where we were building a clandestine fleet for nefarious purposes, this cargo would be most of the construction requirements for several warships. All I can tell you is that we’re not building warships.
“And the information, Captain, Mage, is something of mutual interest,” he continued. “Azure Legacy will hunt you until you are dead. I don’t have the resources or authority to deal with them, but I can put you in touch with a friend who has her own reasons to take them on. I suspect you could find a way to handle them, working together.”
“I see,” David said, cutting off any further response from Maria. “That’s a solid offer, Mr. Conroy, but you’re asking us to take on more risk than I think we need.”
Finding a cargo in New Madagascar might be a pain, but there were other people moving entire asteroids’ worth of raw material out of the system. People who weren’t running smuggling operations for the Legatus Military Intelligence Directorate.
“I appreciate your help, but I think we’re going to have to decline.”
Conroy sighed, but nodded.
“I understand,” he admitted. “If you change your mind, let me know, Captain. I’m not going anywhere and neither is my pile of metals.”
MARIA WAITED until they were well on their way back to the ship, realizing that her own half-instinctive revulsion to working for Legatus had undermined a good chunk of the reason she was aboard Rice’s ship—and certainly a good chunk of the reason she was receiving two salaries!
“Okay boss,” she finally challenged Rice. “Why exactly are we turning down easy money? And help dealing with the guys who want to kill you?”
“Because Legatus,” he replied. “The last time I worked for Legatus, people died. Not to mention that I can’t help but feel that whatever they’re doing isn’t in the Protectorate’s best interests. And it’s not like you were seeming enthused.”
Interstellar Mage (Starship's Mage: Red Falcon Book 1) Page 15