Decker's War Omnibus 1

by Eric Thomson

  The man’s smile returned, this time with a hardness that matched his dark eyes.

  “I bet she sold you enhanced security too, right?”

  “Yup. She saw us coming a parsec away.” Decker shrugged.

  “Throwing bribe money around like that could get you some attention you don’t want, Ser Whate. Folk here are a suspicious lot.”

  “You mean the authorities?” He smirked dismissively. “They haven’t pinned anything on us yet.”

  “Andoth is, shall we say, self-governing in pretty much all things. Provided we pay a reasonable amount of taxes, the Commonwealth leaves us alone.” His smooth tone spoke of the seasoned negotiator or the expert con man. “We have varying interests who aren’t always necessarily in agreement when it comes to dealing with outsiders, especially those looking for work.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Come now, Ser Whate, surely a citizen of the galaxy like you can appreciate how unknown spacers who land here and declare they’re ready to haul any cargo – wink, wink – provided it pays, might raise suspicions. Especially when they’re free with creds.”

  “True. And I suppose you can smooth over said suspicions, for a fee.” Decker made it a statement rather than a question.

  “The people I represent wish to diversify their shipping channels. We have nothing resembling regular service this far from the regular star lanes, and so many of the smaller shippers aren’t as reliable as some business interests might wish.”

  Decker’s fingers began to dance slowly by his now empty plate.

  Do we see what this guy has to offer? He asked.

  Turning him down might look suspicious. Talyn replied.

  He nodded at her and gave Krig his best Decker grin.

  “We’re – ah – open to suggestions.” Zack then proceeded to pick at a strand of vat pork stuck between his teeth, knowing that the gesture made him look like an uncouth and hopefully clueless hick.

  “Perhaps you’d be open to meeting the interests I represent?” Still smooth like a frigate in hyperspace.

  “Sure. We’re here for business, after all.”

  Krig’s eyes flicked between Talyn and Decker, evidently uncertain which of the two was the real leader.

  “Would now be convenient?”

  **

  “Your employers hang out in a mine shaft, Ser Krig?”

  They were headed towards a well-guarded, well-lit opening at the base of the ten-kilometer tall cliff.

  “In a played-out section that’s been improved, yes. It has its advantages. With the constant darkness down here, one doesn’t yearn for offices with windows and there’s no rent to pay.”

  “Good security too, I’ll bet,” Talyn said, “with limited ways in and out.”

  Krig nodded warily.

  “That as well, yes. As I mentioned, business on Andoth is controlled by varying interests who don’t always agree. Sometimes, it’s best to appear well protected. It helps calm hotter tempers until negotiations can be completed.”

  Zack guffawed. “This place sounds like a lot of fun.”

  “If you enjoy profit, then yes, it is fun,” Krig replied, deadpan.

  The two guards framing the entrance could have come from the same mold. They both had that aging athlete build where a massive musculature had slowly turned to fat. Bullet-shaped, shaven heads, a standard issue scowl, and impressive looking side arms completed the picture. They gave Decker such a thorough, unfriendly visual once-over that he blew the older of the two a kiss, just out of sheer devilment. To his credit, the man didn’t react.

  “No weapons check?” Decker asked once they had passed the sentry post and in what could easily pass for an office hallway rather than a horizontal mine shaft.

  “We wouldn’t wish to insult you and Captain Pasek, Ser Whate. Many on Andoth are armed; it’s more or less expected.”

  “An armed society is a polite society?”

  “As you say.” Krig inclined his head.

  “So you’re carrying?”

  “Of course.” He lifted the side of his jacket to reveal a small but nasty looking needle gun.

  Leading the way through a warren of passages, Krig kept speaking of inconsequential matters, as if trying to distract them so they’d have difficulty memorizing the way out, but it was in vain.

  Both Decker and Talyn had quickly shut him out to examine their surroundings with the kind of intense focus that comes from long experience.

  They eventually entered a larger area with a few tastefully arranged settee groupings. Two men, quasi-clones of the guards outside, were the only occupants, and they studied the two agents with the same dispassion.

  “Ser Syko is expecting us,” Krig informed them.

  The guard on the right nodded once while the other reached out to open a padded door.

  “Please go ahead,” Krig told Decker and Talyn. “I have other duties I must now attend to.”

  He turned on his heel and left without waiting for an acknowledgment. The guard by the door made an impatient motion.

  “Ser Syko isn’t used to waiting.”

  They entered a large, well-appointed office where a balding older man, sitting behind a large marble-topped table, examined them with obvious interest. Though not another copy of the guards, he apparently came from the same background though with a more advanced case of obesity.

  Two tough guys stood against the far wall, arms crossed, faces as if carved from stone. They, on the other hand, were still in the prime of physical fitness.

  Syko gestured towards the chairs in front of the table.

  “Please sit.” When they’d done so, warily but by all outward appearances relaxed, he continued. “Pavel tells me you own a fast, well-armed free-trader and are looking to break into the transport business in this area of the Rim.”

  “Indeed,” Talyn said. “We can guarantee that we’ll never be intercepted by the Navy, the Constabulary or marauders.”

  “That’s a big claim to make, Sera Pasek.” Syko sounded amused rather than skeptical.

  “Perhaps,” she replied, unconcerned. “I’d offer to prove it, but I can’t call on the Navy to witness the claim. They’ve never caught us. Any marauders who’ve tried didn’t survive the encounter.”

  Syko chuckled. “I admire your self-confidence.”

  Then, he leaned forwards and placed his forearms on the marble tabletop, all pretense at pleasantness erased from his soft features.

  “On the other hand, I have a few problems with your story. Your ship, though registered, doesn’t have much of a verifiable history and neither do the two of you. Yes, I checked and yes, we have a subspace relay in this system, in case you didn’t know.”

  When neither reacted, Syko snorted and sat back in his chair.

  “I’m pretty sure that when the feelers I’ve put out come back, I won’t find anyone in the sector who’ll acknowledge knowing you.”

  “That’s because we used to operate in the Yotai area before we had a bit of a quandary with an ungrateful client.” Talyn smiled briefly. “A change in name and registry, and we’re working again, a few hundred light years away, free and clear of trouble.”

  “Possibly.” Syko looked down at his fingers before staring up at them again with small, deep-set eyes. “If you were Constabulary or Navy operatives trying to infiltrate what the authorities deem illegal trade, your background would be much less sparse and more convincing. Still...”

  “The other problem I have is this,” he continued after a brief pause, “my folks have scanned for your ship in orbit and have come up with nothing. I know it’s there. Yavan Control has a record of your arrival in this system.”

  “Make that three more problems, actually,” Syko corrected himself. “First, not being able to see your ship, I can’t figure whether you’re bullshitting me or not. Second, I’m having a hard time figuring out why you’re hiding it, and finally, there’s the fact that you’re doing it well enough to fool every sensor my people have used.”<
br />
  A hard, almost mocking smile spread across Decker’s face.

  “It’s amazing what a bit of anti-reflective paint and serious emissions control can do to hide a ship, if you know how, Ser Syko.” He fished a data wafer from his shirt pocket and tossed it on the table. “Here are Phoenix’s specs and some recent imagery.”

  Syko snapped his fingers and one of the goons handed him a thin tablet. He took the wafer, tapped it against the reader, and waited for data to appear.

  “Nice ship,” he commented, eyes focused on the screen. “Right size, right build. Very marketable. Well done.”

  He looked up at them with a thin smile.

  “I could definitely use a ship like yours to expand my business opportunities. That is, of course, if you’re not feeding me some sales brochure.”

  “We came here on something,” Decker replied, “and we’re not offering our services unless we can deliver. Disappointing potential clients is bad for business.”

  “True,” Syko nodded agreeably. “Your ship interests me, Ser Whate.”

  “I hear a ‘but’ in your voice,” Talyn said.

  “Very perspicacious, Sera Pasek. Very perspicacious indeed. You see, I need a ship. I don’t particularly need a crew.”

  “We’re not interested in selling,” Decker replied with affected nonchalance.

  “Oh, I understand that, Ser Whate. I really do.” Syko’s smile turned ugly. “What I think I’d like to do is simply take it. From a business point of view, it makes the most sense to me. Surely you can see that. No initial outlay, my own loyal crew and,” he snapped his fingers, “I have my own means of shipping whatever I want, wherever I want.”

  “What makes you think we’d go along with that?” Talyn asked. Her fingers brushed the back of Zack’s hand.

  Stand by to bust some heads.

  “You have to understand the position you’re in,” Syko sat back, looking self-satisfied. “Here, I have you deep inside my territory, with only one way out. My men are natural killers, in my service of course, and I’m one of the most powerful bosses on Andoth, so if I just take your ship, no one 'll object.”

  “There’s us for starters, and I see a few problems with your idea, Syko,” Decker said, leaning forward and adjusting his posture. “First, you’ll have to find the ship. The other problem you have, sorry make that two problems you have, is getting on board without wrecking it and then getting the systems to cooperate with you.”

  “Surely you don’t think we left Phoenix undefended,” Talyn added, also shifting her body.

  Syko shook his head.

  “Lock-out codes can be defeated, AIs can be co-opted. Just because I used to be a miner doesn’t mean I’m ignorant about starships. But you’ll be giving me the proper codes soon enough. I won’t need to use any force to take your Phoenix. Not a name I like, by the way. I’ll have to think about what to call her. Any suggestions?”

  “Give you the codes?” Decker snorted. “Good luck with that, rock mole.”

  “What did you call me?” Syko’s back was instantly up.

  “Isn’t that the right term for people like you: rock moles? Scurrying little creatures with small brains and an instinct to burrow?”

  “Take care, Ser Whate, take care. We don’t like that term on Andoth.”

  “So?” Decker shrugged. “You’re about to kill us anyway.”

  “If you cooperate, perhaps I’ll let you live. There’s always room for indentured labor in some of the deeper shafts.”

  “But we won’t cooperate in letting you steal our ship,” Talyn said, a hand creeping slowly towards her concealed gun. “You can hire us at a fair price, or you can let us walk out. There’s no other option.”

  “Ah, but a mind probe is such a useful thing,” Syko replied. “With a few chemicals thrown into the mix, your cooperation is practically guaranteed. Perhaps you’ll even survive the experience.”

  Decker started laughing.

  “You find me amusing, Ser Whate?” The mobster seemed momentarily nonplussed by Zack’s reaction.

  “Try that and we’ll die. You won’t get anything. Like my partner here said, we won’t cooperate. The way I see it, someone’s going to die today. It’s pretty much up to you who that is.”

  Syko’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  “Are you trying to tell me you’ve been conditioned against interrogation?”

  Decker tapped the side of his nose with a thick forefinger and winked.

  “Got it in one.”

  “I should have known that you’re Navy plants, damn it,” Syko roared.

  “How about you cut it out with the insults, fatso?” Decker slammed his fist on the marble top. “I belong to the animal kingdom even though I’ve been accused of coming from a different branch than the rest of you pink apes. Your goons, on the other hand, look suspiciously like stalks of broccoli. They have that vacant stare in their eyes. I’d say if anyone was a plant here, they are.”

  Neither Syko nor his guards knew what to make of Zack’s nonsensical declaration, and they stared at him as if he’d sprouted a second head that had immediately begun to sing Shrehari opera. Then, Syko laughed.

  “Very good, Ser Whate, very good. I like a man who keeps his sense of humor in the face of adversity. You’re almost making me reconsider my decision to simply take your ship. Almost...” He smiled again briefly, then touched something on his side of the table and almost immediately, the door opened to reveal the other two guards. “Take this comedian and his friend to the interrogation room.”

  The goons behind Syko raised their weapons menacingly while the new arrivals pulled out restraints. Decker glanced at Talyn and nodded.

  “Now.”

  The Marine’s right leg shot up, and he caught the edge of the table with his heel, giving it a mighty heave so that it toppled over Syko, pinning the man to the floor. At the same time, Talyn rose from her chair in a fluid motion, pivoted to face the door and pulled out her gun.

  One of the guards facing Zack prepared to fire, his facial expression telegraphing his intent. The Marine pulled his pathfinder dagger from its forearm sheath and sent it flying straight into the goon’s throat. Blood spurted and the man collapsed. Decker then drew his blaster and shot the other goon without missing a beat.

  Two double-tap coughs beside him, with no follow-on shots, proved that Talyn hadn’t missed her targets either.

  It had taken only a few seconds, but in that brief time, barely long enough to take three deep breaths, four men lay dead and their boss was caught beneath his desk, helplessly pinned down by the marble slab.

  “Wonderful,” Zack said, walking around the upturned table to retrieve his dagger. “Wherever we go, it ends up with a trail of bodies.”

  “Can we help it if we’re the designated clean-up crew?” Talyn pulled the door shut before someone noticed that their boss’ office had been replaced by a charnel house. “I hope you waited until they shot first.”

  “Sure. Goon on the right had one up the spout and almost out the muzzle.”

  “Good enough for me.” She looked down at Syko. “My partner did tell you someone would die today. You should have listened to him.”

  “You’ll never get out of here,” the man whispered, struggling to master his shock at the lethal turn of events. “I have fifty men guarding me, and there are only two of you.”

  “Fifty?” Decker chuckled. “Those are twenty-five to one odds. I don’t think your men are going to make it, do you, Sera Pasek?”

  “Nope.” She shook her head. “What do we do with this piece of crap?”

  “He was going to steal our ship, which makes him guilty of attempted piracy. That’s still a death penalty offense, and I’m sure he’s made people disappear into his rabbit warren before. So we can also get him for multiple counts of enslavement if not first-degree murder. In most jurisdictions, those can bring down a death sentence too, especially slavery, and I do hate slavers.”

  “Legally, summary exe
cution isn’t an option at this point, you know that, right?” Talyn asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Zack looked down at Syko again. “Maybe fatso will try to shoot me first; then I can kill him. Want to shoot me? You’re not getting out of here alive.”

  Anger warred with terror in the mobster’s eyes.

  “Who are you?” He asked, hoping against all hope to distract the big man while he struggled to pull his weapon out.

  “Just some honest, God-fearing spacers looking for work. Sadly, you picked on folks who don’t like to be played for idiots. I wish I could say that you should remember so you don’t do it again, but I figure you won’t have the chance to be a good boy.”

  Syko’s pistol snapped up, the stubby barrel aimed at Decker’s chest, but Zack was faster. His Imperial Armaments blaster coughed once, drilling a neat hole in the mobster’s forehead.

  “Navy plants indeed. I’m a bloody Marine, you dumb fuck.” He looked up at Talyn. “He was about to shoot, so it doesn’t count as summary execution.”

  “Sure. We won’t mention that he would have had an entirely good self-defense argument if it had ever come to trial.”

  “Whatever.” Decker shrugged and holstered his gun. He was about to turn away when he noticed something on Syko’s neck that had become visible after he’d slumped backward in death.

  “Wonderful. Our man here has a Jackal tattoo, which might explain why he was so keen on stealing Phoenix. Maybe his buddies on Kilia Station put out a BOLO.”

  “And that makes a difference to our current situation how, exactly?”

  “Other than having the whole pack on our asses once they find out we scragged the local boss? Can’t think of a single thing. Not that I have any remorse. I’m just trying to think ahead of trouble.”

  “Good for you. I doubt all of his goons are part of the pack, though. They’ve been known to take control of local gangs through one or two members. Anyway, that’s for a later conversation. I’d say now would be a good time to see if we remember the way out.”

  Talyn opened the office door cautiously and looked out into the antechamber.

  “Clear.”

  Decker passed through and took up position by the opening to the passageway. When he glanced back, he saw her pull a dark, nut-sized nugget from her pocket, thumb off the top, and toss it into the office before pulling the door shut.