Bounty's Call

by Max Jager

Columbia Star System, Planet Warwick

  Orbital Peacemaker Fleet Station

  * * *

  Six Years Ago

  "Wakey, wakey, Jameson."

  Flotilla Commander Jameson Gray yawned, suddenly aware of a body pressed up against his from behind. Two slender arms were wrapped around his middle. The sleepy haze left his brain confused for a moment, until he heard a familiar giggle a few scant centimeters from his ear.

  Jameson grinned, the last traces of sleepiness fading. He rolled over to face Lizzy, her pale blue eyes glowing in the faint ambient lighting.

  "What are you doing here?" he mumbled groggily, still grinning. He probably had awful morning breath, and with his face only centimeters away from Lizzy, she had no doubt gotten a full dose of it. She didn't seem to care, however, leaning in to kiss him.

  She broke away a moment later. "Sneaking around. Having some fun…"

  Jameson blinked, glancing down at her apparel. She was in her kadvair only, the silvery gray material adhering skintight to her body from the tips of her toes up to her wrists and neckline. For a moment, Jameson was lost in the little streaks of magenta light that raced up and down the patterned substance of the undersuit.

  He met her eyes again. "You don't think it's a little weird walking around the Station like that?"

  She giggled, leaning in to kiss him again. "Everyone else is asleep. Security can watch me parade around like this if they want. Perves."

  Jameson shrugged, losing himself for a moment in Lizzy's kisses. Sure, she might look silly, but it was unlikely she would ever get in trouble. They all may have been the age of fresh cadets, but this was the Peacemaker Fleet Station. The only personnel assigned here were the genius elite promoted right out of the academy to flotilla command ranks. The Admiralty might not appreciate some of their future leaders running around out of uniform in their kadvairs, but what were they going to do about it?

  Jameson and Lizzy were now high ranking officers in the Fleet. They could do whatever they wanted.

  Eventually Jameson surfaced, grinning when he heard Lizzy sigh a little breathlessly.

  "So why did you really sneak in here?" he pressed.

  Lizzy smiled mischievously, tossing back her short, electric blue hair for effect. "I've been exploring November Section of the Station. There are some fun things over there."

  "Oh yeah? Like what?"

  She shrugged, he grin deepening. "Oh, a grav-suite that a friend showed me."

  Jameson blinked. He didn't know they had one aboard the Station. It seemed like a waste of resources for simple recreation. Grav-suites were very expensive to build; relying on some of the most advanced artificial gravity tech to simulate different fields on the body. The effect could be highly therapeutic and good fun for couples.

  "So," Jameson began, trying to guess where Lizzy was going with this, "you want me to come have a grav-suite session with you?"

  She nodded exuberantly. "They're very pleasurable," she said, trying to sound sultry. "And very exclusive. It will be just you, me, and no one on the whole Station there to bother us…"

  Jameson laughed. "I think you're having too much fun. You know the anthem alarms are about to sound, right?"

  Lizzy made a pouty face. "We still have time…"

  "Not if you want to slink back to your quarters in time for morning operations, miss sneaky pants."

  Lizzy exhaled, deflated. "Will you at least come meet me at twenty-hundred hours tonight? Down in November Section?"

  Jameson shook his head no. "Not tonight. We're working out a half dozen battle plans for the Kraven Approach."

  "Well I have a triple shift in encryption for the rest of the week," Lizzy grunted. "And this miss sneaky pants needs a little some of Jameson to last the week."

  Even after all this time they had seen each other, Jameson still felt a little weird to go by his first name. The academy and Fleet had done a very good job of instilling the use of rank and surname. Aside from his close friends in the Eighth Flotilla, everyone always called him sir or Commander. Sometimes just going by Jameson felt too civilian.

  Well, he was probably the only one who used her first name anymore. To the rest of the Fleet she was Commander Sophen, Encryption specialist.

  Jameson leaned in close, kissing her once, moving slowly down her neck.

  "Don't worry," he said between kisses. "You'll survive a week. Just hang around with that new friend of yours. I promise we'll find some time."

  Lizzy exhaled; a sigh somewhere between satisfaction and resignation. "Oh, all right." Her eyes widened as she glanced past Jameson's shoulders and up at the wall monitor. "Shit! It's getting late."

  Jameson laughed. "Told you so."

  Lizzy scooted away from him, kicking off from the bunk and floating up into the zero-g space above the floor. Reaching out for one of the wall handles to stop her momentum, she spun around briefly in the air, sparing a glance back at Jameson.

  "Buzz me at fourteen-hundred on Saturday." She blew him a kiss. "I'll be waiting."

  Kicking off sharply from the first wall, she flew out across the room and landed expertly on the opposite wall. Jameson watched her from behind, admiring her figure and the way her kadvair complimented it as she disappeared through the pressurized doors and out into the corridor. He spared a glance back at his wall screen again, chuckling to himself.

  The morning anthem began, a strong series of notes rising into the familiar score of the Fleet's national hymn. Jameson sat up, listening to the memorable song once more. He felt a twinge of patriotism rise in his chest. Some days he was especially proud to remember that he served the Republic of Gibraltar military.

  Kicking off his bed, Jameson floated up through zero-g to a series of compartments in the ceiling. His feet touched down gently, artificial gravity surging through his feet from the clinger field system. Now the ceiling was the floor; his bed and the door Lizzy had come through seemingly upside down.

  The wall monitor nearby winked to life, an inverted face appearing in the screen framed in bright blond hair. It was accompanied by a mischievous expression.

  "Jameson!"

  "Jester," Jameson called back lazily. He knew the screen should have compensated for the change in orientation. Jester had probably rigged it from his end to appear upside down regardless of what Jameson was in his quarters.

  "You're late!" Jester continued, his tone cheerful as always.

  "No I'm not," Jameson replied, tapping the controls embedded in the floor with his toes. "You're just an early riser."

  "Most of the flotilla is already here. Torik, Sal, Rappel..."

  "Rappel's there?" Jameson replied, surprised, barely paying attention to his wardrobe. A series of compartments opened around his body. The colors on his kadvair surged bright blue as different components to his officer's uniform jumped into the air, attaching themselves around his body. He felt a current of warmth race over him as the creases and wrinkles ironed themselves out, giving his maroon uniform a crisp, fresh appearance. "How did you manage to drag him out of bed before the anthem alarm?"

  Jester's face darkened. "We got a vote of opposition on our plan," he said, his voice flat with disappointment.

  Jameson rounded on the screen. Jester had reoriented the image now, his earlier comical upside down expression now right side up and irritated.

  "Who the hell voted in opposition against us?"

  "Get over here and I'll tell you the whole story." The screen winked out.

  Jameson growled, kicking off the ceiling and doing a backflip in mid air. A moment later his feet reoriented to touch down on ground proper, artificial gravity surging back through his body as the clinger fields caught him. He quickly set to marching out of his quarters and to the Station tram.

  A short ride later, Jameson strode into a massive, two story conference room: the current brain space for Eighth Flotilla. A holographic projector dominated the center of the room, displaying one of their countless star charts in three-dimensional
illustration. No sooner had he walked in than an arm draped around his shoulder, a short redhead pulling up against his side.

  "Jameson! So nice of you to join us."

  "Hi Sal. Mind telling me what is going on?"

  "Well…Zac talked to you, didn't he?"

  She was referring to Jester. He had earned the nickname as a sort of joke during their brief Academy days on Columbia. Two years later it had still stuck.

  "Yes. And he said someone voted in opposition to our plan."

  Sal sighed, taking her arm away from Jameson's shoulder. She leaned against the second story railing of the room, looking down where Jester, Torik and Rappel were gathered around the terminal. Jester started waving Jameson down.

  "It's someone from Intelligence," Sal continued. "He said the Kraven Approach is too high risk, especially with our reports of H1."

  Jameson swallowed hard at the mention of it. "Recon says there's no H1 in the Expanse."

  Sal shrugged. "That's not what Commander Uniz thinks."

  Commander Uniz. So this was the man who had opposed their plan. Jameson and the others in the Eighth Flotilla were perhaps the most discussed group for heading Fleet Operations when Peacemaker went active in the coming years. Jameson had even received recommendation to the highly sought after title Fleet Commander. It was only natural others would envy their position; try to take it by whatever means necessary.

  And that meant poking holes in their airtight plans.

  "I need to talk to Jester about this."

  "Go ahead," Sal said, motioning with one hand. "I'm going to track down Chris and break the bad news to him."

  Jameson nodded, leaving her. They were still missing Kaitlin as well. Now that he thought about it, why weren't they here as well? This was kind of an important situation.

  Jameson hurried down a cuneiform stairwell that wound along the periphery of the open atrium in the center of the conference room. It deposited him at the center terminal where Jester, Torik, and Rappel were working away on their individual tablets. He wasn't surprised to see each of their screens displaying the Kraven Approach.

  "Please tell me someone brought you up to speed, Mr. Jameson." That was Rappel, not even bothering to look up from his tablet. He had his nose almost pressed up against the surface, leaving his messy brown hair to peek over the top.

  "Just tell me what our new friend Commander Uniz is bitching about," Jameson sighed. He picked up a tablet of his own from the circular terminal, which glowed from the holographic projectors casting up the star charts over their heads.

  "Besides the H1 scare?" said Torik, looking overly serious. The guy was normally so cheerful and optimistic, a smile rarely absent from his face. He looked uncharacteristically upset, scrolling through the main set of data being displayed in the air on a secondary holo-projector. "He's throwing criticism into our supply routes through Kraven."

  Jameson raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? The Kraven Star System is obviously the best place for military staging. It's only a few lightyears from the Draconia border. Hell, we're not even the first ones to suggest using that route."

  "Just the first ones to perfect it," Jester grunted. It had become a sort of mantra between the two of them, especially every time they presented their plans to Fleet Command.

  "All right," Jameson began with a long sigh, "we're not going to solve this by going over every scrap of plan we've already got. Just point me to this guy, Uniz, and I'll have a talk with him. He's obviously vying for consideration of Fleet Commander. And since he knows we're the top pick right now, he needs to discredit us."

  Jester cocked his head, getting a distant look in his pale blue eyes. "You think we can buy off this guy?"

  Jameson shrugged. "We could use an Intelligence Commander in our flotilla. If that's what it takes for him to revoke his vote of opposition, I'll personally make him our number two."

  Torik shrugged. "Sounds fair to me."

  "I don't know," Rappel began hesitantly, finally looking up from his tablet. "I've heard about this guy. He's a troublemaker in the Fleet; ruthless, even. He's gotten as far as he is today because he knows how to mow over people in his way."

  "Well, so do I," Jameson grunted. "As soon as Chris and Kaitlin are briefed, I'm going to meet with him personally. And where is Kaitlin anyhow?"

  "Where do you think?" Jester said with a chuckle. "In the gymnasium. Her new favorite scene."

  Torik chuckled. He was starting to sound like his old self again. "Better watch out, Jameson. One of these days she'll be able to take you in the fighting circle."

  Jameson titled his head forward, peering up at Torik as if to say really?

  Later that morning, Jameson set out from Eighth Flotilla's command center in search of Commander Uniz. Unsurprisingly, it didn't take long to track him down. He was where all of the Intelligence Officers had claimed Station turf: November Section. Jameson half wondered if he would bump into Lizzy while over here, but doubted she would sneak back right after their brief visit in his quarters.

  After stepping off the tram, he was greeted by the sound of several chanting voices down the main corridor. Following the noise, he found that it led into a large foyer where a fighting circle was lit up in the floor, surrounded on all sides by a fair sized crowd.

  In the center of the ring, two men darted back and forth, launching lightning fast strikes at each other. Jameson recognized the form; Likuji martial arts. It was a fighting style that had gained immense popularity in the military over the last century. Jameson had gained a fairly rudimentary mastery of it during his time in the academy. He had singlehandedly kicked every one of Eighth Flotilla's asses at one point or another in a similar fighting circle.

  One of the men, almost half a head shorter than Jameson and with a thinning hairline, made several quick jabs. The trick to Likuji was the way the attacker struck precision nerve points. The attack was often delayed and subdued, but a moment later—

  Jameson laughed aloud, watching as the man's opponent toppled to the ground. The attack had come quicker than even Jamesonexpected. The opponent tried to stand, but his limbs wobbled and eventually failed, leaving him in a heap in the middle of the circle. It would be a minute or two before his nerves recovered; maybe longer if the attack was brutal enough.

  The victor towered over his fallen opponent, smirking with such self satisfaction that Jameson wanted to puke. Above him in the air, a holographic banner announced his victory.

  Axus Uniz: Undefeated

  Jameson arched one eyebrow. Undefeated? That seemed doubtful.

  The man—Commander Uniz apparently—glanced up, meeting Jameson's gaze. A wide grin spread across his features.

  "Commander Jameson Gray." He cackled to himself; it was a strange, short bark of high-pitched laughter. "Fancy seeing you here."

  The crowd parted around them, leaving an opening for Jameson to approach him.

  "Commander Uniz," Jameson began, arms folded. He could already tell he didn't like this guy.

  "Please. Call me Axus."

  "Fine," Jameson snapped. "Axus. We need to talk."

  Axus waved him off. "I'm in the middle of something."

  "So am I. My flotilla is developing the most important battle strategy in the galaxy and you're trying to shred it to pieces."

  Axus paused, sweat glistening on his forehead. He had stripped away his top uniform, leaving his kadvair exposed. The smart material was in the process of cooling him down and absorbing his body sweat.

  "Why don't you take a go with me in the circle?"

  Jameson blinked.

  "C'mon," Axus said, that mischievous smirk reappearing. "If you best me now, I'll revoke my vote of opposition. We can be done with it and all go home happy."

  Without missing a beat, Jameson shed his uniform jacket. If that's all it took to appease this guy, then he wouldn't pass up the opportunity. Besides, Jameson knew he could kick this guy's ass.

  It had been a long time since an opponent actually beat him in a L
ikuji match.

  Jameson stepped within the marked circle, lit up on the floor in a glowing ring of electric blue light. Axus motioned in the traditional Likuji initiation, bringing his open hand down in front of his body, closing his fist as it became level with his heart. It signaled his readiness to fight. Jameson returned the motion, and the two began circling each other cautiously. The small crowd around them began to chant again.

  They were chanting Axus's name.

  "Jameson Gray," Axus murmured. "Columbia Academy graduate, Eighth Flotilla. Rank: Flotilla Commander."

  Jameson blinked, cocking his head. Where was he getting this sudden trivia from? "You've done your homework."