Soldiers of Fortune

by Joshua Dalzelle

  "So you say, Captain," he said. "Just remember your instructions." With that he turned and walked back off the ship, leaving only the hooded men, two armed guards, and one well-dressed man that was slight of build and appeared to be somewhat distressed at the aggression that had been on display. He came forward and offered his hand in greeting.

  "Hello, Captain," he said in a servile tone. "My name is Dowarty, I'm the administrator for... um, them... and I'll be handling the details of their care."

  "Very well, Dowarty," Jason said, wiping his hand on his pants. "If you and your charges will follow me, I'll show you to berthing and you can get them settled. You two," he said to the armed guards. "I'm not going to try and disarm you, but I expect a certain level of respect on my ship. You threaten any of my crew, or the operation of the ship, and you'll be put down. My deal is to keep them safe and anonymous, I don' think you were part of the bargain."

  "Stay out of our way, and there won't be any trouble," one of the guards said indifferently. Jason just nodded and led the group out of the cargo bay after raising the ramp and closing the rear doors. He led them up to one of the crew berthing bays, one that remained unused since they only normally had six crewmembers, and showed the guards how to operate the door. He crooked a finger to Dowarty, indicating he should follow them out. He showed the sniveling little administrator where the galley was, how it worked, and a host of other things he would need to know for the flight.

  After returning Dowarty to berthing, he went up to the bridge, stopping to give Twingo the assumed-to-be-bugged com unit to be incinerated. The crew and the ship were ready as he walked onto the bridge and hopped into the pilot's seat. "Computer," he said, "I want our new passengers closely monitored. If any one of them raises a weapon, threatens any of the crew, or tries to access any part of the ship other than the galley or the starboard berthing bay I want them incapacitated. Non-lethal only."

  "Acknowledged."

  "Ok, let's get out of here," he said to the bridge crew as he fed power to the main drive and lifted off the surface of Oorch. Soon after, the Phoenix meshed out of the system towards their first "dummy" jump-point. Once in slip-space, Jason keyed the intercom, "Passenger Dowarty, please come to the bridge."

  A few minutes later, the administrator shuffled onto the bridge, "Yes, Captain?"

  "We'll be needing our destination now," Jason said.

  "Oh! Of course," Dowarty pulled out a small tablet computer and began searching through menus. Jason rolled his eyes as he waited. "Here it is... set your course for Solic-2. Your coordinates for landing will be provided once we achieve orbit."

  "Of course," Jason said evenly. "That will be all." The Solic System wasn't too far away, and it was still considered part of the Cluster. This was the good news. What wasn't good news was that Solic-2 was fairly notorious for having an overreaching, almost abusive approach to local law enforcement. He was beginning to see why they had needed an unknown ship, but he couldn't imagine why any criminal operation would risk even having a presence there at all. Solic-2 and Solic-3, both habitable worlds, were closely aligned with the ConFed government, but their small populations disqualified them from membership or from having a seat on the council. They were sympathetic to the ambitious ConFed Council, however, and ConFed fleet ships navigating the Cluster often congregated in orbit over the two worlds.

  This instance was no exception; no less than four ConFed cruisers were in orbit over Solic-2 as they made their approach. The specifications for the ships began to scroll across Jason’s right-most multi-function display, and they were impressive. The third largest class of ship in the fleet, cruisers were a potent mix of firepower and speed, the type of ship that would be dispatched to make the ConFed’s presence felt. The ships that patrolled the Concordian Cluster, making stops and waving the flag at various worlds of port, naturally gravitated to the planets with the most sophisticated and developed settlements. That and a predilection for treating ConFed captains like celebrities.

  This wasn’t uncalculated on the part of the leadership of Solic-2. The planet had become wealthy due to the heavy deposits of rare elements found in its crust, but fielding and maintaining a fleet to protect that wealth was difficult and cost prohibitive despite the lucrative ore trade. So, they created an environment that brought their protection force to them; no organization or planetary government in its right mind would risk raiding, or illegally mining, on Solic-2 when a ConFed cruiser or destroyer could make orbit at any time.

  The Phoenix slid into orbit squawking clean codes that identified them as a micro-freighter. They declared no freight needing to be inspected and awaited their turn to begin entry. The decaying orbit they were in let the gunship slide under one of the ConFed cruisers at fairly closer range, so Jason asked Kage to train the optical sensors on it and project the image up on the main canopy. The tiny spec of light resolved itself into a sleek warship as the sensors zoomed in on the ship that was flying above them in a parking orbit.

  “That’s one big ass ship,” Kage said. “Hope we never have to tangle with one of those.” Jason snorted.

  “It’d be a short fight if we couldn’t run.” The DL7 was a uniquely powerful ship, but there was no feasible way it could go toe-to-toe with the weaponry a ship like the cruiser could bring to bear. Luckily, the comparatively tiny gunship could outrun nearly all the larger mainline ships.

  After another three orbits, they were cleared to land and swooped in for an uneventful touchdown at a smaller spaceport that was outside of an industrial district. Judging by the number and size of the cargo haulers coming and going, Jason figured it must be one of Solic-2’s logistical hubs. Not wanting to risk a misunderstanding with the security guards on board, Jason called down to Dowarty over the ship’s intercom. “Dowarty, we’re on the ground,” he said brusquely. “You’re clear to disembark whenever you’re ready.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Dowarty’s voice came over the bridge speakers. “We’ve alerted our contacts here to dispatch transportation. I’ll inform you when we’re ready to leave your ship.”

  “None too soon,” Jason muttered after the intercom had clicked off. He let his breath out noisily. “This isn’t working,” he announced to the bridge crew, which was everyone.

  “No kidding,” said Crusher.

  “Not a chance in hell we’re finding what we’re looking for this way,” Twingo chimed in.

  “Alright! I get it,” Jason said, heading off any more disparaging comments thrown his way. “Any ideas?”

  “We don’t seem to have a plan, as such,” Doc began, “but I don’t see the benefit in abandoning one haphazard approach to adopt an equally haphazard one just for the sake of doing something different. We really haven’t been at this all that long yet.”

  “I’m getting the feeling you have more to say,” Jason prompted.

  “These passengers are not prisoners; they’re being protected, not guarded. If they’re really a couple of higher-ups in an organization, it may be in our best interest to see how this plays out,” Doc said.

  “Yeah, but what organization?” Twingo asked. “We could be escorting around a pair of drug-runners or weapons buyers. The Cluster is full of criminal ‘organizations.’ The chance we’ve stumbled upon the right one seems slim.”

  “You two have anything to add?” Jason asked Lucky and Crusher. Lucky just shook his head negatively.

  “We’re just bored,” Crusher grumbled. Jason was sympathetic to the big warrior, sitting around on a cramped ship accomplishing not a whole hell of a lot had to be torturous for him.

  “I understand. I’ll try to get us some action soon, otherwise we’re never going to get off this job,” he said.

  “Should we try to contact Crisstof?” Kage asked. “The Diligent has to have gotten into the Cluster by now.”

  “Absolutely not,” Jason insisted. “No transmissions of any kind. We’re keeping our cover airtight until we know something definite, or we need rescued. Whichever comes f
irst.”

  “Probably the second one,” Crusher mused sourly.

  “I agree,” Lucky said. Jason turned to look at them, an acerbic retort on the tip of his tongue when the intercom interrupted him.

  “Captain,” Dowarty’s voice came over the speakers once again, “we’re ready to depart if you’d care to escort us down to the boarding ramp.”

  “Of course, Dowarty. We’ll be there momentarily,” Jason said, indicating to Crusher and Lucky to follow him. They found their five passengers standing outside of the crew berthing bay they’d occupied during the flight to Solic-2. With a simple nod, Jason led them aft and into the cargo bay so they could be on their way. When he lowered the ramp he saw a long, sleek-looking ground vehicle hovering a foot off the ground. Jason had noticed some time back that the affluence of a population could be determined by their ground transportations. Wealthy, wasteful societies utilized repulsors and grav generators to whisk them along in complete, isolated comfort. More pragmatic worlds still used the efficient, reliable wheel, something that seemed to be the first technological leap every civilization made. Unless one counted turning grain into alcohol as a technological feat.

  “I’ve been asked to extend our thanks to you and your crew, Captain,” Dowarty said as the others walked down the ramp and climbed into the vehicle. “Your professionalism and promptness was greatly appreciated. So much so, in fact, that we’re tacking on an additional fifty thousand credits to your payment.”

  “We aim to please, Dowarty,” Jason replied. “To be honest, this has to be the easiest money we’ve ever earned; nice, quiet passengers and no exchange of gunfire.”

  “Yes, of course,” the slight man smiled indulgently. “Would you be willing to stay on Solic-2 for a bit longer? My employers may want to leave… quickly… and would prefer not to try and arrange transport in a hurry.”

  “I’ll bet. I’ll tell you what, for another twenty-five thousand credits we’ll stay parked right here, ready to launch, until you feel comfortable releasing us.”

  “Hmm,” Dowarty pretended to think it over, “It would simplify things. Very well, Captain, twenty-five thousand it is. We’ll be in touch.” He handed Jason another handheld com unit before turning and walking down the ramp towards the waiting vehicle. Instead of gliding away hugging the ground, it lifted off and climbed away into the sky. Cool. They must be important. And in a hurry.

  “Let’s grab something to eat,” he said to his friends, indicating with a finger to his lips that they should still be in character while waving the new com unit at them. They nodded and followed him out of the cargo bay as the rear pressure doors slid noisily shut. I wish Twingo would fix those damn things.

  Once he had gathered the crew in the galley (and secured the almost certainly bugged com unit) he began his brief. “I’ve had a change of heart, something tells me we’re in the right place, or at least someplace that can lead to the right place.

  “I’m convinced our passengers weren’t a couple of underlings. The casual appearance had me fooled, but I think they were major players, which is why they needed to be smuggled onto the planet. What I can’t figure out is why they’re here at all. From what I’ve heard, this place is not receptive to any sort of criminal element, much less organized crime.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with you,” Doc said. “The impression I got from that group was similar. How do you want to play it?”

  “For now, we wait,” Jason held up a hand as Crusher and Kage let out simultaneous moans of disgust. “Stay with me, we just took twenty-five large to sit here for a bit, so we’re not going anywhere no matter what. I did that to give the impression of cutthroat mercenaries that are only in it for the money. Hopefully that translates into a job that gets us in touch with the people we’re after.”

  Jason’s instinct proved to be correct; the com unit started beeping about twenty hours after they made landfall. It was a message on the screen and not a person-to-person call, all it said was, ‘Meet at Sparks Lounge, Perlick District in 3 hours. Dress casual, do NOT draw unwanted attention.’

  “What’d I tell you?” Jason asked Crusher smugly as the warrior read the message over his shoulder. All he got was a low growl in response. “Go get dressed, Crusher. Something that makes you look like a tourist. Tell Doc he’s coming too,” he said over his shoulder as he walked back to his quarters to get ready. Or at least he tried to, he ran smack into Lucky as he turned down the passageway that led to the Captain’s quarters. The battlesynth showed no intention of moving. “Can I help you?”

  “Am I to understand you are leaving the ship to meet a contact with only Crusher and Doc to accompany you?” Lucky almost managed to make it sound like an accusation.

  “Yes,” Jason replied, reminding himself that despite his appearance, the synth had a full, complex range of emotions. “It’s not because I don’t want you there, but I need you here. The safety of the ship, and the other two idiots, are as important as my own safety. That’s why I need to split you and Crusher between the two teams.”

  “I see,” Lucky said in a manner that indicated he still wasn’t convinced. “I will protect the ship and the remaining crew, but I am submitting a formal protest at not being added to your own protection detail.”

  “Lucky, this is Omega Force; we don’t do anything formally,” Jason said, patting the synth on the shoulder as he tried to squeeze by. (Since Lucky refused to move, he had to suck it in to make it around him.) The truth was that Lucky simply drew too much attention, his kind were so rare that wherever they went, he was gawked at and, inevitably, approached. Once a group of people from Helderan Prime actually wanted to pose for pictures with him while the team was in the middle of an operation. While Galvetic warriors were also rare, with a set of fitted clothes, Crusher didn’t look quite so exotic on some of the more cosmopolitan worlds.

  Chapter 8

  As soon as they were ready, Jason had Kage call for an aircar to pick them up and deliver them to the Perlick District, a swanky part of the city that was well north of the spaceport. The car was quite cramped and the ride consisted mostly of arguments over personal space.

  “Stop touching me,” Crusher said.

  “I can’t help it,” Jason snapped. “Get on your own side.”

  “I’m all the way against the door as it is. Would you like me to get out while we’re still hundreds of feet in the air?”

  “Actually, yes, that would be great.”

  Doc, who was sitting in the front with the driver, simply smiled at his good fortune at having jumped in the front of the vehicle when he saw how small it was. He was sure Kage knew the exact volume of the aircar’s interior when he had called for it.

  Despite the bickering coming from the back seat, the ride was smooth and uneventful. The aircar swung easily down onto a busy landing area and let them out before rising back into the air and zipping off to another pickup. The three smoothed out their clothes, Doc being the only one who felt even remotely comfortable in the casual civilian attire. Crusher in particular kept pulling and adjusting the billowing jacket he wore that was made of some type of shimmering synthetic material, obviously in some state of distress at being forced to wear anything with sleeves. Jason wore a black on black three-piece suit that had been a “gift” from a crime lord he had later set up to take the fall for an ambitious escape, and theft, they had pulled.

  The lounge was three blocks away from where the aircar had dropped them off, so the three set off to try and get to the place first. Past experience had made Jason always want to arrive first to these meetings in order to perform a little casual recon before a client or contact showed up. It reduced the possibility of them filtering in too many of their own people posing as customers and it also gave his team a chance to commit the layout, and exit locations, to memory. More than once that had come in handy as contract negotiations devolved into a bar fight. That trend was another reason Jason preferred Crusher over Lucky as backup in those types of situations; while
Lucky was an incredibly powerful soldier, Crusher was a natural (if somewhat over-eager) brawler.

  “This is the place,” Doc said as they approached a sleek high rise building. Sparks Lounge seemed to take up the entire ground floor of the building and was readily identified by the obnoxious sign that was made up of swirling holographic, incandescent motes that would coalesce to form the word “Sparks!” before exploding outward. Jason rolled his eyes at the gaudy effect before leading the way into the establishment.

  “Subtle,” Crusher mumbled as he passed under the animated sign and followed Jason in. The interior was just as slick and trendy as the exterior, as were the patrons. More than a few stopped to stare at Crusher, who was blotting out the light from the entrance, before assuming a studied, bored expression and turning back to their drinks and conversations. Jason wove through the crowd, scanning for any sign of someone paying a bit too much attention to them, while making his way back towards a secluded booth. As far as he could tell, they had arrived before their contact.