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Authors: Stephen Arseneault

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OMEGA Guardian (7 page)

BOOK: OMEGA Guardian
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I pursed my lips. "Mr. Dearls. The new Governor, and what we believe will be most if not all of the colonies in this sector, would like to propose that a business arrangement be set up between those governments and your organization, an arrangement that would allow your organization to conduct business in a manner that is fully within the law. I believe this proposal to also offer a superior profit potential to your organization."

Moor Dearls smirked as he looked down and then back at the display in front of him. "This is the Omega sector, Mr. Beutcher. Unless you are dense, you already know that we make our own laws. From the initial sound of this proposal, you and your colony governments are already plotting against us. I can tell you now, Mr. Beutcher, that is not a scenario that you or your governments want to be involved in. We have the resources at our disposal to take control of this whole sector if needed. We will not be intimidated by the weak governments of the colonies."

I replied, "I apologize if I indicated such a scenario in any way. That was not my intention. What would your organization say if the governments provided you with the labor needs you desire? All aboveboard and all within the law. No more raiding villages and snatching individuals off the streets. I am talking a legitimate business arrangement where we provide you with the labor, and in return, you end all slaving in this sector. Before you respond, please allow me to continue."

Moor Dearls nodded. "Go on, but as of this moment, the details relating to this proposal are greatly lacking."

I sent a written copy of the proposal across the comm. "Understand that this is only a discussion in the earliest of stages on this matter. There would be many fine details to be worked out so that both sides were satisfied with the arrangement that is being proposed.

"As you know, all these colonies have prisons. Most of those prisons are filled to capacity. Our Governors would like to offer you the prisoners as laborers during their sentences. You would have a plentiful supply of laborers, and the colonies would have greatly reduced costs for their incarceration. As I stated before, the fine details of this arrangement, of which there would be many, can be worked out through further discussion."

Moor Dearls thought for a moment before replying. "You are suggesting that we use prison labor, instead of what we have at this time, and that the colony governments would provide these laborers to us? I would have to assume these laborers would be temporary, as in for however long their sentences may be."

I nodded. "The logistics would all have to be worked out ahead of time. On our end, we could make the labor program voluntary in exchange for reduced sentences. A volunteer workforce would provide a better production rate than a slave base. As an extra incentive, the governments could also pitch in a very small wage so that prisoners had a credit store to again begin life with after their release. The colonies will be saving money, your organization will be getting free labor to manage and sell, and your business would be legitimate and fully legal."

Moor Dearls leaned back in his chair. "Indeed you have offered an interesting proposal. I will pass this on. Expect a return comm on this channel within the day. And Mr. Beutcher, should it be determined that we are not interested, you and I will have a discussion of a different nature. It will be a discussion similar to what we had with the former Governor. Be prepared to accept similar terms."

When I landed in Bay-68, Go was waiting. "I miss going out in her. I wish there was some way you could take me along."

I replied, "I had sensitive negotiations that I needed to take care of. If we can get things back to normal around here, I promise to take you on more inspections."

Go laughed. "Normal? Who wants normal? I like what we have going now, except the not being able to go out."

I smiled. "We’ll have to call it the new normal, then. If the negotiations I'm involved in work out, we could see a drastic change in this whole sector."

Go plopped down on a bench and looked up at me. "You know, Mr. Beutcher, there are some people out there that are bigger than life. People who effect change wherever they go. You are one of those people. For the first time in a decade, the people of Omega might have hope for better lives!"

I held up my hands. "Let’s not get carried away, Go. I’m just trying to do what’s right. What I'm coming to terms with now is how little effort it has taken to start turning things around. Why did those bleurgh pushers on the lower levels just roll over? Why did the Governor not see what was coming? Were things so bad that no one thought they would change? Too many things have happened, at too fast a pace, and too easily."

Go grinned. "Bigger than life, Mr. Beutcher. And the exciting thing for me was that I was right here when it all happened! Just a few months ago I was in constant fear for my life from Malcom. Now, he doesn’t bother me at all. You are like my guardian!"

I replied, "You survived Malcom before I arrived; besides, I think Malcom is all noise and no action. I’m curious as to how he will do in this new environment. Sometimes, people’s lives are molded by that which goes on around them. We’ll have to wait and see if change brings change to Mr. Barber."

Chapter 7

That afternoon a call came over my comm. The slavers were interested in further discussion of the prison labor proposal. A meeting was set up for a face-to-face discussion. Garrett Rourke advised against it.

I joined Garrett in the cockpit of the
Jess
. "I have to go, Garrett. This is a huge opportunity for all the people in this sector. If we can establish a solid foundation out here, we can then use the resources we have available to search for Miss Salton. You needed a new identity; you have one. I was thinking once this slaver threat is over, we could legitimately talk trade with other sectors. We could send you to Adicus on a trade mission."

Garrett nodded. "That would be a good cover. And it would allow me some freedom to poke around while alluding to the interest of the Omega sector to secede. That might put me in a position to gather any information that is available on Miss Salton. This meeting you are going to, though—I think we need to take some precautions. These Talisans are ruthless, mean, and nasty. We don’t know that they can be trusted."

I replied, "If it makes you feel any better, Governor Hoog and Harga will be attending with us. I didn’t think bringing Harga was necessary, but the Governor won’t go anywhere without him."

Garrett shook his head. "I just think this much exposure this soon is a bad thing. Marcos still has friends, and many of those friends are in fear of losing what they have acquired over the past decade. I think you are putting yourself at risk with this meeting. You are flying out to meet them on their ship without any protection."

I sat back and crossed my arms. "I have to do this. They have no reason to trust me unless I show them trust. If they recognize this as beneficial to both sides, which it would be, I don’t see them turning it down."

Garrett again shook his head. "I just don’t think it’s wise. At least allow me to put a tracker on your ship. I can shadow the meeting and come in if anything were to go wrong."

I sighed. "I can’t let you do that. If they did a sweep and found that device, it would be like knifing them in the back when we are trying to build a relationship. We will go, we will have our meeting, and we will come back with the good news."

I left Garrett sitting with a scowl on his face. He was right: I was potentially risking everything to make this happen. It was an opportunity that I could not pass on. Risking my life to bring a positive change to an entire sector seemed like a worthy risk. The following day, Cal Hoog and Harga boarded the
Mabel
for our flight out to the meeting.

The Governor’s personal cruiser was a more presentable craft for the meeting, but the
Mabel
offered better shielding. When adding Go’s additions to the hull for reducing ion cannon effectiveness, the
Mabel
was a better-equipped ship should anything go wrong. We began our flight out to the coordinates given by Moor Dearls. Harga sat in the copilot’s chair and Cal Hoog in the jump seat.

Cal Hoog spoke. "Who would have thought I would be flying out to meet with the leaders of the slavers? Two months ago, I was uneasy about leaving my apartment. I can’t thank you enough, Mr. Beutcher, for everything you have done."

I replied, "You have shown yourself to be a fair-minded person, Governor. The people of SS241 are lucky to have you. If you keep up the reforms you have been making, that station might just become livable."

The Governor nodded. "That would be a dream come true, Mr. Beutcher. We have lived in fear and near poverty for too long. If the slavers agree to our proposal, the station will become a hub of commerce for this sector. Jobs will be plentiful, and travel through this station to the other sectors will increase exponentially. It would be a good change for everyone involved."

As we approached the large vessel the slavers had sent for the meeting, I slowed, rolling up and over the ship before entering the docking bay through a gravity wall on the port side. I set the
Mabel
down, powered off the generators, and popped the hatch, sliding it back.

I stepped out of the
Mabel
to a waiting Talisan. He wore a dark gray battle suit that had no doubt seen action. The scars and pockmarks on his left chest and arm told of taking a number of solid hits from a handheld kinetic weapon. Our greeter held a flail at the ready.

The Talisan spoke as Cal Hoog and Harga exited behind me. "You will follow me."

We walked across the deck and through a pair of doors to a long hall. After passing several doors, we were guided into a room where Moor Dearls was waiting with two other Talisans and a Gammatin of their own. Harga growled as the other Gammatin flexed his arms, tapping his large club against the wall behind him in a gesture meant to intimidate.

Moor Dearls spoke to one of the other Talisan. "Sweep the ship and report back to me."

The Talisan left the room as Moor Dearls gestured towards two chairs. "Mr. Beutcher, Governor, please have a seat."

Cal Hoog protested. "Is there not a chair for my associate?"

Moor Dearls shook his head and scowled. "The Gammatin can stand. I thought the rules of this negotiation were that only the two of you would attend. I can’t say that I like you bringing your muscle to what is supposed to be a peaceful discussion."

I spoke. "I apologize for that, Mr. Dearls. The Governor insisted on his attendance. Even though we may be secure on this station, we had to travel through areas that are known to have pirates operating. The Gammatin will remain quiet during our discussions."

The other Talisan returned and whispered in the ear of Moor Dearls.

Moor Dearls smiled and spoke. "Now, we can begin after one additional gesture on your part. I do not like having discussion in front of Gammatins. I find them distasteful. I would ask that both your and my Gammatin go out into the hallway until our discussions are complete."

Cal Hoog protested, "I don’t know that I am comfortable with that request, Mr. Dearls. We are on your ship, surrounded by your people. I would ask that the Gammatin stays."

Moor Dearls shook his head. "I am sorry, Mr. Hoog, but the Gammatins must go. Keep in mind that you still have Mr. Beutcher at your side. I hear Gruntas are good fighters, and I am certain Mr. Beutcher will offer his assistance if needed."

Cal Hoog grudgingly turned to Harga and nodded. The two Gammatins left the room as Moor Dearls sat down in a single chair.

Moor Dearls continued, "The Gammatin—there is no more loyal a creature in all the galaxy. Once they pledge their loyalty, they will gladly give their life for their master. They are bound to that pledge until either they or their master dies. Gammatins make excellent bodyguards."

I spoke. "Shall we get started with a discussion about our proposal?"

Moor Dearls smiled. "One moment, please."

The Talisan leader reached down, pressing several buttons on his arm pad. I was startled by a fierce roar out in the hallway as the Talisan Gammatin swung his club with all his might at Harga. A glancing blow left the Governor’s bodyguard stunned, but alive. A second blow sent the Gammatin named Harga sprawling backward, slamming hard into the floor in front of the doorway.

A nearly unconscious Harga turned his bloodied head slightly so that he could give one last look to Cal Hoog. It was a look that showed his resolve of now being a failure at protecting his master. When I turned my head back toward Moor Dearls, his assistant was standing with a blaster in his hand. Before I could move, an ion bolt entered the chest of Cal Hoog, exploding outward and covering my right side with his blood and guts. Garrett Rourke had been right!

A second Talisan entered the room with another blaster. Harga rolled his head away, looking up at the ceiling and awaiting orders from his new master. Tanni Marcos then came through the door behind the Talisan.

Tanni Marcos smiled. "Mr. Beutcher. It seems you have been outplayed. I had an associate check your references, and it seems you are not here in Omega on some secret assignment. The Saltons have no interest in this sector. You are here on exile, because you obviously screwed up so badly in the Alpha sector that they sent you here as punishment. Oh, Mr. Beutcher. I can’t tell you how happy all this makes me!

"Since your coup, I have been living in squalor on Effica. I will have to say that I don’t understand your reasoning behind letting me take all my treasure with me. It made the bribing of those patrolling that space as easy as snapping my fingers. When I contacted Mr. Dearls and learned of your proposal, I was giddy with excitement. You walked right into my hands, and now I get to exact my revenge!"

Tanni Marcos turned toward Moor Dearls. "Mr. Dearls, I believe our prior arrangement is now back in force? It is now time that I return to my station to begin cleaning up the mess that these two made. As a parting gift, I would like to leave this Grunta in your care. I am certain he will make an excellent worker in the mines for your clients. And I will trust that under your care, he will be treated with the respect and care that he deserves?"

Moor Dearls poked his chin up in the air as he smiled. "I already have a place picked out for him in the lead mines of Telfor. They are always in need of hard workers, as most miners on Telfor rarely make it a full year. It seems the lead has a terrible effect on the brains and nervous systems of the living, leaving most with little more intelligence than a Cosiun rat before their bodies give out. A big Grunta like Mr. Beutcher will be a welcome addition!"

Tanni Marcos laughed as he turned to leave the room. "Enjoy your new exile, Mr. Beutcher. Hahahaha!"

Moor Dearls turned his head down and spoke. "Now, if you would please follow my associates, they have a nice room waiting for you just down the hall. We will be quickly under way, and you should be starting your new work on Telfor in a few days’ time."

I looked at Moor Dearls as I stood. "One question. Why was our proposal not considered?"

Moor Dearls laughed. "Mr. Beutcher, do you take us for fools? Once our organization had transitioned to a legitimate business, how long would it be before the good and decent law-abiding sector Governors would come after those individuals who had sold so many of their brethren into slavery? One year? Three, tops? No, I am sorry, Mr. Beutcher. Your dream of ending the slave trade in Omega was just that, a dream. We are highly profitable, and we like what we do. It’s too bad we didn’t have the opportunity to recruit you to our team. Intelligent muscle is an area in which we are lacking."

I looked down at Harga, who remained bleeding on the hall floor. "And what of him?"

Moor Dearls smiled. "The Gammatin is now under my control. He will be given back his club and will happily spend his remaining days bashing heads for our organization. I suspect he and our Gammatin will become fast friends!"

When I reached the doorway, I stopped to look back at the remains of Cal Hoog. His death would weigh on my conscience. I had taken him from his protected apartment, however small and insignificant that his life had been, and thrust him into a situation that he was not prepared for. His blood and the blood of all those on SS241 that would be retaliated against by Tanni Marcos was on my hands. I had failed to protect those that I desired most to help.

I was prodded along by the Talisans and deposited in a small windowless room. The next two days passed without food or water. A corner had been selected to deposit the remains of my prior meals. Fouling the small room was the only recourse I had to take against the Talisan slavers. After a short laugh about it to myself, I realized that as a slave, I might also be forced to clean up what I had deposited.

The lock sliding open on the door broke my thoughts. "Grunta! Get up! We’ve reached your new home. Come with us so we can get you down on the planet for your new owner to put to work!"

The Talisans with their blasters were grinning from ear to ear. A patched-up Harga stood behind them with a club. "Move, Grunta! Before I have to bash your skull!"

As Moor Dearls had reasoned, Harga now had a new master and a new loyalty to that master. He would do as asked and do it without a conscience for doing wrong. Following the orders of his master was always right.

I was walked out to a small transport in the docking bay and chained down to a bench along with a dozen unlucky Feldons, none of which had ever seen a Grunta.

One of the Feldons said, "What are you?"

I replied, "I am a Grunta. I come from the Alpha sector."

The Feldon’s eyes grew wide. "You have been to Alpha? Are the streets paved with diamond and gold, as they say?"

A second Feldon spoke. "Garmon, you are an idiot. The Alpha sector has no roads. They all have flying cars and helocycles."

I smiled. "They do have flying cars and helocycles, but they also have roads, and they are not paved with diamonds and gold. They are just like the roads in Omega, only probably better kept."

The second Feldon snarled. "You have no more been to Alpha than Garmon here. You are a slave in Omega. You could not be further from the riches and wealth of Alpha. The Salton family wouldn’t allow slave trash like you."

I chuckled. "Only a few short months ago, I was sitting in a room not much bigger than this, having a conversation with Harden Salton. He is just a man with problems like anyone else. Only his problems concern billions of people, while our problems only concern us."

Garmon grinned. "You have spoke with the Saltons? What were they like?"

The second Feldon slapped Garmon on the shoulder. "Why are you so gullible? It’s your curiosity that landed us here. If I were not your brother, I would have strangled you back on Fiveon for getting us in this mess."

I looked at the second Feldon. "What is your name?"

The Feldon looked back. "What is yours? And what are you? Does your kind even have names?"

I nodded. "We do. I am Knog Beutcher. I'm a Grunta. I'm also the first five-star inspection detective in the Triangulum galaxy in the last thousand years. I was exiled here by Harden Salton himself."

Garmon exclaimed. "Wow!"

The second Feldon turned back towards his brother to give another slap. "Can’t you tell when someone is spinning you along? This Grunta has never been to the Alpha sector, and he knows nothing about the Saltons."

BOOK: OMEGA Guardian
9.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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