by Eric Thomson
“We’re systems down.”
“And now the boredom begins, Ser Kidder, Sera Steiger,” Talyn said, rising from the helm console. “The AI will digest and collate anything worthy of our attention. You can stay here and watch the readout. I’m grabbing a coffee. You want one, lover boy?” She asked Zack.
“My usual – black as your soul.”
“I don’t have a soul,” she shot back before disappearing down the passageway.
“So we’re going to sit here and wait to see what happens?” Kidder asked.
“We’re not exactly sitting, Tran,” Decker replied. “When our hyperspace bubble collapsed, it left us sailing along at a good clip on the same course at a non-relativistic velocity. Mind you, considering the distances involved, it feels like we’re sitting still, though I wouldn’t recommend taking a giant leap off the ship right now.”
“Of course.” He dipped his head once. “I’m a ground pounder so you’ll forgive my less than stellar knowledge of space travel mechanics.”
“But to answer your question, we want to see what’s happening at the coordinates you gave us before committing and since we’re not talking about the place next door, we’ll have to wait until useful energy waves reach us. That can take some time, especially if your friends are late.”
“You are careful, aren’t you, Ser Whate?” If Steiger’s crooked smile was meant to be disarming, it didn’t work.
“We’re alive. People who tried to screw us over aren’t. I like to keep the odds in my favor.”
Talyn re-appeared with two mugs and handed one to Zack.
“If the coffee is soulless, don’t blame me. You ordered it that way.”
She took her seat at the helm again and turned to face their passengers.
“There’s plenty left for you, but it’s self-service. I recommend having some as a way to pass the next few hours without falling asleep. Silent running is about as boring as it gets aboard a starship.”
“That’s very naval of you, Captain Pasek.” Steiger stood up and nodded towards the door. “C’mon Tran, let’s sample her brew.”
“Anything on the sensors?” Talyn asked once they were alone.
“Plenty but none of it concerns us unless you’ve suddenly developed a deep and abiding interest in astrophysics.”
“Pass. It was my worst subject at the Academy.”
“And what was your best?”
“Keeping my mouth shut,” she replied nodding towards the sound of footsteps in the passageway.
“I think you coffee has plenty of soul,” Steiger said, smiling at Talyn. “Anything yet?”
“You’re kidding right?” Decker shook his head. “According to your timetable, we’re ahead of schedule.”
“So, how long does this go on for?”
“Until I’m happy we won’t stumble into something we won’t like. I did warn you that running silent can add years to your life if you enjoy boredom.” He took a sip of his brew and winced. “Plenty of spirit in this one. You may not be the dark, empty vessel you pretend to be, mon capitaine.”
“Perhaps we should head back to our quarters where you can probe my dark empty corners,” Talyn replied, watching for Steiger’s reaction. When she came up empty, the spy shrugged. “Or not.”
Decker stretched his legs out and slumped back, balancing the mug on his stomach.
“This is nice. No one shooting at us, no systems screaming for attention; just four friends enjoying a little coffee break.”
“Maybe we could tell each other war stories,” Steiger suggested. “I’ve got a special request because my friend Tran here doesn’t want to ask.”
“Oh?” Zack’s eyebrows shot up, and a sly smile crossed his lips. He knew what was coming.
“Your little legend about doppelgangers is cute. But since we’re betting our lives on you two, perhaps it might be the right time to tell the tale of why Zack Decker, the last commander of the Fifth Orta, or what remained of it after the Garada fiasco, is pretending to be Bill Whate, first mate and gunner of a mercenary Q-ship.”
Zack grinned at his two passengers.
“Who’s never thought of changing his identity after the kind of crap I went through in the last few years?”
“Why?” Tran asked.
“Why not? I wanted to let go of the past and needed a job after we got home, one that would let me forget and more importantly let the folks who thought me dead forget. So far, it’s worked. I even had you wondering whether your memory was playing tricks.”
“And what’s your story?” Steiger challenged Talyn.
“Crazy rich lady with a starship and an itch for adventure. I met Zack in a bar on Mykonos and the one night stand turned into a partnership. He was trying to get reacquainted with the bottle. I got him reacquainted with something he’s superb at, cleaning up filth.”
“And your name is really Pru Pasek. PP for short?”
“No, but I have enough money to make that identity stick. It’ll do until I get tired of it.”
“Tran tells me you’re a heck of a military trainer and commanding officer, Sergeant – or is that Major – Decker.”
“It’s nothing at all. I’m retired from the Corps. Zack will do when there are no unfriendly ears around. I also answer to ‘hey you’ and the sound of a Shrehari ale popping open. For official purposes, Ser Whate will do even better. There are still plenty of folks in the galaxy who’d like to tan my hide and hang it on the wall.”
“It sounds like you have a knack for making enemies.”
Decker snorted.
“You have no idea, hence the change of appearance, name and career.”
“What is it you folks say: once a Marine, always a Marine?”
“Yeah. So?” Zack glanced at his sensor, hoping he looked like he was fishing for an excuse to end this conversation.
“If Tran wasn’t blowing smoke up my ass, we could use someone like you, and I’m willing to bet you wouldn’t mind going back to your old line of business.”
Steiger examined him with an almost frightening intensity, to gauge his reaction.
“I have no idea what Tran’s been saying, which means the smoke you feel tickling your butt is pretty much your own business.”
He took another glance at the sensor readout, but this time, he kept his eyes on the screen.
“I’m happy with my life these days, so you might as well put away whatever you were going to dangle in front of me.”
“And here I thought you were a merc for hire.” Steiger laughed derisively. “You should listen before making up your mind.”
Talyn gave Zack a dirty look.
“It costs nothing to listen, buddy, and we’ve got a whole lot of sweet nothing going on anyway, so I’d like to hear Sera Steiger speak her piece.”
“I thought you didn’t like me.”
“I don’t, but I got rich by listening to propositions of the financial kind before tossing them away. My companion here isn’t quite as motivated by profit as I am.”
“Yeah.” The mercenary smirked. “He’s got other motivations.”
“I’m right here, you know,” Decker protested half-heartedly.
Steiger held up her hand, palm facing Zack.
“I’m negotiating with the organ grinder now, lover.”
“As far as I can tell, we’re not negotiating anything,” Talyn replied, an amused smile playing on her lips.
“Not yet in any case,” Steiger agreed. “My people aren’t just in the market for weaponry, we’re also in the market for trained soldiers. Again, going by what Tran said, your partner would be a heck of an asset, not just as a fighter but as an advisor.”
“Are you preparing to invade the Empire?”
“No.” She shook her head. “We’re working on correcting a massive wrong done to some terrific folks. I hear Ser Decker has a thing about injustice.”
“You mean doing what he can to avoid being the victim thereof? Yeah, he’s good at it.”
Deck
er caught Tran’s eye and grinned briefly, to show he was amused and not at all put out by the mischaracterization.
“What’s in it for us?” Talyn asked.
“A long-term contract. Action. The virtuous feeling of being on the side of the justice.”
“Death?”
“Depends on how good you two are, especially the ex-Marine you sleep with.”
“Oh, he’s good. Take it from me.”
“Though I’m sure Sera Pasek doesn’t mean quite the same thing, I’ll second that remark,” Kidder said. “Zack Decker managed to turn around a screwed up company in no time flat and that, among his other virtues, saved two hundred lives when the mission went sideways.”
Steiger held up her hands in surrender.
“Enough. I’m sure Ser Decker, or Ser Whate if he likes, doesn’t need his ego inflated.” She dropped her hands again. “First things first. We need to get the convoy together and reach our destination without interference. I’ll hire you to ensure that we do. Once we’re there, and you’re still interested, we can make it worth your while if you’ll lend us your skills.”
“I prefer Ser Whate right now and where, exactly, is it that you’re correcting a massive injustice?” Decker asked.
“Care to take a guess? A smart guy like you must be keeping tabs on what’s happening along the Rim.”
Zack locked eyes with Steiger.
“Garonne?”
The mercenary tapped the side of her nose with her index finger.
“Any problems with that?”
“Depends. Is our pay tied to the rebels winning, or are we getting paid no matter what?”
“You’re getting paid. If you stick around long enough for Garonne to get its level three status, I’ll see that you get a bonus.”
“So our pay depends on the Senate doing what you consider the right thing? How stupid do we look?”
“The Senate will go along once we kick the Celeste administration off-planet, especially if the Fleet decides to step in.”
“Maybe the Fleet will side with the colonial government.”
“Perhaps. We’ll take our chances.”
“And you want us to take ours?”
“Got anything better to do right now?” Steiger smirked. “You’re carrying ordnance for a rebel army. If the Navy stops this ship, maybe they’ll take you in.”
“Blackmail is such an ugly thing,” Talyn said. “But well played nonetheless.”
She put her hand on her holstered blaster.
“Of course, we could always space the two of you and sell your cargo for a profit.”
Kidder looked distinctly pained, and he gave Decker a pleading look.
“Enough,” Zack snarled. “If we’re done with the posturing, why don’t we agree that we’ll give your convoy an armed escort to Garonne? Once we’re there, we’ll decide whether to stick around and extend our contract or leave, no harm, no foul. You pay in installments. That’s the best you’re going to get until we figure out what the state of play looks like. Agreed?”
Steiger nodded once.
“Agreed.”
The AI chimed softly, calling Zack’s attention back to his screen.
“Two ships dropped out of FTL near the rendezvous coordinates,” he said. “Their power curve is consistent with small freighters.”
“That must be Verrill,” Steiger said. “He was going for the mother lode.”
“And this mother lode was where, exactly?”
“You have your secrets, Captain Pasek,” she wagged her finger at Talyn, “we have ours.”
“Fair enough,” she replied. “Might I suggest that if we’re being paid to protect your mother lode, we go ‘up systems’ and join them while we wait for number three?”
“By all means, Captain.”
“I assume you have a recognition signal?” Decker asked. “It would be a shame if your man Verrill’s ships jumped out on a scare or got stupid and opened fire.”
“Of course,” Steiger replied. She fished a data wafer from her jacket and tossed it at Zack, who snatched it out of the air with practiced ease. “Feed that through your commo array when we drop out of FTL. I’m assuming we’re going to do a micro jump rather than join them at sublight speed, right?”
“Right.” Talyn turned towards the helm console. “Be prepared for your coffee to try a bid at resurrection.”
SIXTEEN
A bearded man of indistinct age appeared on the main screen moments after Decker had established a secure commlink to the freighters.
“Steiger,” he said nodding at the mercenary and her companion, “Kidder.”
“Verrill. You had success?”
“Of course. I see you brought some muscle along with your part of the ordnance.”
“May I present Captain Pasek and her partner Ser Whate? Their ship, Phoenix, is an armed yacht with impressive firepower. I’ve witnessed them destroy two reiver needle ships shortly after lifting from Rakka. They’ve agreed to provide us with an armed escort us to our destination on top of carrying what I bought.”
“Really?” Verrill stroked his chin while he examined Talyn and Decker through narrowed eyes. “How interestingly convenient. You’re satisfied that we can trust them?”
“Tran has some history with Ser Whate and vouches for him unconditionally. Apparently, on top of turning reivers into dust, he’s also something of a wizard at training troops and beating the crap out of anyone who desperately needs it.”
“Even more interesting, isn’t it, that they’d stumble across us at a time when we desperately need military experts.” The doubt and mistrust in Verrill’s face were plain for all to see. “I assume that by now you know who we are and what we’re about, Captain Pasek, Ser Whate?”
“We do.” Talyn nodded.
“And?”
“And what? Are we uncomfortable with transporting weapons for a rebel movement? Are we uncomfortable providing an armed escort for your clapped-out freighters and firing at anyone other than the Navy if need be? The answer to both is no. We’re for hire, and provided you don’t ask us to do something that’ll put us on the Fleet’s shit list, we’ll deliver.”
“I’m sure Miko dangled enough money in front of your eyes to take care of any scruples you might have had.”
“She has,” Talyn confirmed.
“That being said,” he continued, “I’m more concerned about who else you talk to or work for. As you can probably figure out for yourselves, there are a few governments who’d dearly like to end our movement before we have a chance to shake off Celeste’s yoke.”
Decker shrugged.
“We talk to ourselves and our clients, meaning you fine people right now; no one else. If we don’t cross the line, the Constabulary and the Navy leave us alone. The opinions of the various colonial administrations out on the Rim don’t matter much. Half of them are corrupt, and the rest close an eye when we’re around on the general principle that we could be useful in a pinch.”
“Funny that we’ve never heard of you before,” Verrill replied, unconvinced.
“Being too well known doesn’t attract business. Our usual clients like things to stay nice and quiet, before, during and after a contract.”
“Fair enough. I know you folks hold an ace in the form of your ship and the cargo it carries for us, which puts me in the position of having to graciously accept responsibility for the contract negotiated by Miko, whether I’m happy with it or not.”
“As she mentioned, I can vouch for them,” Tran said. “Bill Whate came out of the Coalsack with me after he saved our collective bacon on Garada. Two hundred people, me included, owe him our lives, first because he taught us how to fight and then because he led us out of the worst military disaster to befall our erstwhile employer.”
“What about Captain Pasek?” Verrill asked. “You know her from your past adventures as well?”
“No, but Ser Whate trusts her unconditionally, and that’s good enough for me.”
“I
see I’ll have to swallow my reservations about this arrangement.” Verrill nodded politely at Talyn and Decker. “All that remains for me to say at this point is welcome to our little ragtag band of freedom fighters.”
“Sera Steiger mentioned a third freighter,” Talyn said. “Are you expecting it soon?”
The rebel leader gave a half shrug.
“We set a timeframe, not an exact time for the rendezvous. Once that period expires, whoever made it here heads home. Coordinating three missions isn’t exactly easy when you don’t have access to the Navy’s subspace array. It’s a miracle that you made it not long after our arrival, considering Tran had to look far and wide for extra transport. Few captains are willing to get involved with a colonial liberation movement, and many of those who do would sell us out at the drop of a cred.”
“Hence your reservations.”
“I believe that if it seems too good to be true, it is, Captain Pasek. You two seem too good to be true, but I have to remind myself that sometimes the stars do align, and we get a shot of good luck.”
“Let me rephrase my question, then. How long do you expect to remain in this area if your third companion doesn’t show up?”
“We’ve given ourselves a window of seven standard days.”
“This deep in interstellar space and with reasonable emissions control, we should be reasonably safe from accidental discovery,” Decker remarked.
“Glad that our arrangements meet with your approval, Ser Whate,” Verrill replied.
Zack seemed unfazed by the man’s cutting edge.
“If you’re buying my services as an advisor, I’ll advise. If you want me to shut up, just say the word.”
“He generally stops speaking if you ask,” Talyn chimed in, “though I find the best way is to stick a bottle of Shrehari ale in his hand.”
Verrill’s eyebrows shot up.
“Expensive tastes. Are you carrying any?”
“Why?” Zack’s mouth curved into a broad smile. “Don’t tell me you’re an aficionado?”
“I’ve been known to take a nip when I can,” he replied, a measure of ease loosening his tense features. “Perhaps you might be kind enough to invite me for a meal. Getting to know one’s new allies around a good drink is rarely a bad idea.”