Soldiers of Fortune (10 page)

              "Welcome to our off-site meeting location, gentlemen." The voice came from behind them. As they turned, they saw Prime Minister Colleston walking in trailed by Crisstof and a half dozen security personnel. "I trust the trip wasn't too taxing?"

              "Not at all, Mr. Prime Minister," Jason said respectfully. "Your men have been nothing but professional. I am curious about the cloak and dagger routine, though." The Prime Minister paused while his translator implant tried to chew its way through the term "cloak and dagger.” As it did, he smiled faintly.

              "You can never be too careful, Captain," he replied. "While the citizens would never know it, these are perilous times for Eshquaria, as you’re about to find out. For security reasons, there are some things that I must omit, or be intentionally vague about, but I will try to answer all your questions to the best of my ability.”

             
Over the next hour and a half, the Prime Minister, and mostly his advisors, briefed the crew on the current state of affairs in their system. Eshquaria and her surrounding worlds maintained their sovereignty even as their neighboring systems submitted to more and more ConFed oversight, trading off internal control for the security the ConFed fleet offered. Eshquaria was unique in one way: its main export was some of the most advanced weaponry in the quadrant. Eshquarian warships were immensely powerful and, due to the money coming in from exporting, plentiful. The end result was that they were able to handle their own security needs, and as the chief exporter to the ConFed government of capital ship weaponry, they were largely left to their own devices.

             
Being somewhat isolated politically, Eshquaria also maintained robust trade treaties with a host of other systems to keep a steady flow of critical infrastructure and other supplies coming in. Corran had been one of these systems. When its sister planet, Kellan, had inexplicably initiated hostilities towards the planet, a major ally and food supplier had been lost to Eshquaria. The Eshquarian intelligence services suspected another player must have been involved, but was so far unable to prove it. The fact that the ConFed council had refused to intervene in a timely fashion was also suspicious, but didn't necessarily prove anything.

             
After the elimination of the Corran-Eshquaria trading route, another threat had popped up. Pirates and raiders had been harrying freighters up and down the shipping lane that moved raw materials from the Concordian Cluster to the Eshquarian System. There was no pattern or apparent logic behind the attacks, and recently they had moved into hitting passenger ships. This latest development had grabbed the public's attention and had prompted them to start pressuring their government representatives to do something about the attacks. This, in turn, put enormous pressure on Prime Minister Colleston's administration to do something, anything, to put a stop to it.

              "So, that's where we are currently," Crisstof was saying. "All efforts to find a base of operations or leadership for these raiders has been ultimately unsuccessful. The ConFed council refuses to step in: their stance is that since Eshquaria is so adamant about remaining independent, then it is their responsibility."

              "They've also made it clear that the delivery schedule for weapons contracts is to be strictly adhered to," Colleston added. "Any slip in deliveries or milestones is grounds for withheld payment, something we can't afford given the loss of the Corran supply chain."

              "The obvious answer is that some element within the ConFed government is behind these attacks, trying to destabilize Eshquaria to the point they won't be able to remain independent," Jason said.

              "We thought so as well," Colleston confirmed. "But again, we've been able to confirm nothing. We also can't establish a motive for ConFed interference; with their aggressive ship building schedule, any delays by our weapons contractors will do nothing but harm them economically and politically."

              "Are there any other interested parties that would benefit from hurting Eshquaria economically? Or is it possible that the attack on Corran and these raids are simply coincidences?" Doc asked.

              "I'm sorry to say, we just don't know," Crisstof volunteered. "These raiders are not only better equipped than they have any right to be, but thus far have been able to give our intelligence operators the runaround. We know they're using some of the local criminal element, but there are also some fairly advanced ships that will pop up now and again using tactics that are more in line with military training than a ragtag group of smugglers and pirates." 

              "We don't know much, do we?" Jason asked to nobody in particular. "And now to the crux of this discussion: what do you want from us? Although I think I can already guess..."

              "We need to know what the root cause of this rash of attacks is, Captain," Colleston said. "We know this isn't the natural ebb and flow of the normal, reckless attacks that happen up and down the space lanes from time to time. This is gaining momentum and it's becoming increasingly dangerous to ship passengers and goods. We want you and your crew to find out what is causing this sudden uptick. My own intelligence service has come up with nothing actionable, so Crisstof has suggested we try a different approach and send in someone who isn't affiliated with the Eshquarian government, someone who would more naturally fit in with the criminal element."

              "Send a group of mercenaries to catch a group of mercenaries, right?" Kage asked.

              "I meant no offense, I realize that you're team is…unique... but you are technically guns for hire, are you not?" Colleston said.

              "That we are. But we're not assassins," Jason answered. "We can try to find any leadership that may exist, if these attacks are even centrally coordinated, but we will not kill a politically inconvenient target for any amount of pay nor will we bombard any position where there may be civilians. Speaking of pay, what are we looking at for compensation on our end? This could end up being a very long job."

              "Let us hope not," Crisstof said. "But the compensation would be a base rate of fifty-million credits, plus an additional ten-million for each ringleader you find and capture, or kill. Assuming there are leaders, of course." Twingo and Kage both made choking sounds at the sum of money being offered; it was more than triple what they made on the rescue mission to Corran. "The money will be funneled through me, the same as before," he continued. "It is important that your involvement not be traced back to the Prime Minister's office, or the Eshquarian government at all."

              "Understood," Jason said, trying to keep his own excitement in check at the prospect of such a big payday. "How much time do we have to prepare?"

              "You'll be taken back to your ship from here, after that we'd like you to launch out as soon as you can. Your intel package will be delivered to you there and Crisstof will coordinate any services you may need from us to prepare your ship," Prime Minister Colleston said as he stood up, indicating the meeting was over. "Good luck, gentlemen, and good hunting." He turned and left through the same door through which he had entered. Once he had left, the remaining security personnel ushered the crew, now including Crisstof Dalton, through the other exit and to the waiting rail car that would take them back to the government compound.

*
              *              *              *              *

              Jason and his crew sat at the bottom of the
Phoenix's
cargo ramp, bored to tears. It had been four hours since they had been dropped off and had yet to see any sign of their intel package or Crisstof. Twingo was leaning against the ramp and bouncing his foot, making odd clucking sounds with his mouth, completely oblivious to the increasingly hostile looks he was getting from his crewmates.

             
"Someone is approaching," Lucky said, the only one immune to being bored and annoyed.

              "About fucking time," Jason muttered as he stood up. As expected, Crisstof entered the hanger with an officious looking little Eshquarian in tow that could only have been a government official.

              "Gentlemen," Crisstof said loudly as he approached. "We're clear for uplift. The plan is that we head to a location with less prying eyes watching us and do all the preps and briefs you'll need to get started."

              "So you're coming with us?" Doc asked.

              "Indeed. I'm greatly looking forward to a ride in this ship," Crisstof said with a smile.

              "So what's he for?" Jason asked, pointing to the smaller man without actually addressing him.

              "I am from the Office of Internal Accountability and Audits," the man said by way of introduction.

              "I'll bet that makes you popular," Twingo said with a laugh, already walking up the ramp to begin prepping the
Phoenix
for flight. Ignoring the engineer, the official pushed on.

              "I'm here concerning some stolen furniture from a suite you and your crew were guests in recently. While we encourage guests to enjoy themselves, which is why we provide a fully stocked bar, we don't allow people to simply remove any items they may like." Once he had finished Jason simply stared at him.
He can't be serious.
He looked over at Crisstof, who only shrugged and smiled.

              "Doc," he asked. "Did you steal any furniture?"

              "No."

              "Kage?"

              "Hell no, that furniture sucked."

              "I see. Since Lucky doesn't use furniture I guess that leaves only one possibility," Jason said. He then raised his voice, "Crusher! This guy says you stole some furniture... is that true?" A bellowing roar issued forth from the cargo bay and a seemingly irate Crusher came stomping down the ramp.

              "Who accuses me of stealing?!" he roared as he reached the bottom. "You!! Was it you?" He pointed at the small government official, coming at him with malice in his eyes. Even in the enormous hanger the sound of his bellowing was uncomfortably loud and quite terrifying. The man was backpedalling as fast as he could.

              "Would you like to settle up the account now?" Jason asked blandly as Crusher was still coming towards them.

              "I... I... I think maybe there was a misunderstanding..." The man looked far beyond terrified as he then turned and actually sprinted from the hanger, fumbling with the door as he did. Crisstof looked like he wanted to follow, but stood his ground, although he did pale noticeably. As soon as the door to the hanger slammed shut Crusher stopped to stand by Jason. Both were silent a moment before Crusher snorted, then Jason let a giggle slip out, and soon both were laughing uncontrollably. This went on a moment more before Crisstof, who regained his composure, spoke up.

              "I take it this isn't the first time you guys have pulled that little act," he said.

              "Oh, no... it's one of our favorites," Jason said as he wiped the tears from his eyes. "Best way to not have to pay our bar tab."

              "I almost couldn't walk that slow," Crusher said. "I thought maybe the little weasel was going to stand his ground." Crisstof simply shook his head in amusement.

              "I'm technically your liaison while you're here, so I could have sent him away when his office contacted me. But I wanted to see how you'd handle something you couldn't shoot your way out of. I must say," he said with a chuckle, "you didn't disappoint. So what actually happened to the chair?"

              "What chair?" Crusher and Jason said in unison. The high-pitched whine of the
Phoenix
going into her pre-engine start sequence cut off any more conversation within the hanger. Jason jogged over to the controls and started the main doors opening while the rest of the crew walked up the ramp and into the ship.
What the hell? I'm the Captain and I have to run to go open the doors...

              Walking onto the bridge, Jason was pleased to see everyone in their place and the ship about ready to get off the ground. Hopping into the pilot's seat he asked for an update, "Give it to me."

              "Reactor is up, emitters are up, and all primary flight systems are coming up," Kage said as his four hands flew over his controls. "We're ready to roll out, Captain."

              "Very good," Jason said as he nudged the jog control that managed ground taxiing back a tad. The
Phoenix
began to roll slowly backwards out of the hanger, powered by the inductive motors in the landing gear. It was a useful feature to be able to move the ship on the ground, or in a hanger, without having to have the engines up. Able to observe their progress on his holographic heads-up display in front of him, Jason kept the speed at a crawl; he'd be damned if he was going to ram the trailing edges of his wings into a building because he was too impatient to wait a few minutes. 

             
The gunship backed out into the midday sun, gleaming dully in the bright light. Jason nudged the jog control to the left as the nose cleared the hanger, bringing the ship about to point out towards the taxiway. He maneuvered them over into a well-marked staging area and had Twingo begin a series of power-up tests on the main drive. The ship groaned as opposing gravimetric fields warped the air around it from the main drive running up and down at low power to check out the emitters and plasma conduits. Everything was green on his board, so Jason nodded to Doc to call for launch clearance. Operating out of established, heavily populated areas had its advantages, but one of the drawbacks was the barrage of procedures and permissions to do something as simple as taxi out to the launch area.

             
After an irritating amount of back and forth on the coms, they were finally granted clearance to depart and given a vector up to their first transfer orbit. Eshquaria was a planet with heavy commerce traffic, so they didn't typically allow ships to just lift and fly out at any random vector they wanted. Instead, the controllers kept close watch and directed all ships up through a series of transfer orbits, much like a European roadway roundabout, that kept proper intervals between ships and minimized the chance of a collision or drive field overlap. Crisstof could have probably got them clearance to leave via one of the military launch windows, but being discreet was the name of the game for now.

             
Since the
Phoenix
was so small compared to the cargo freighters coming and going, they were bumped out rather quickly and given their final send off as Jason steered them onto a course that would lead them towards the edge of the system and pushed their velocity up. "Twenty minutes until our jump point," Jason said to their guest. "How about some coordinates."

              "Of course," Crisstof said. "He walked over to Kage and handed him a small, handheld data pad that had a set of jump coordinates on the display. "It's only a seven hour flight. Our destination is a ship of mine that has a large enough hanger deck that we can do any modifications and refits to your fine vessel you deem necessary after your final briefing." Jason wanted to press him further, but decided he could wait another seven hours to find out what all the skulking about was for. After the short flight through real space to their jump point he hit the control to engage the slip-drive, meshing them out of the Eshquarian system.

              The
Phoenix
flew back into real space with a flash and turned onto a course that would bring them on a leisurely approach to the ship that hung thousands of kilometers ahead of them. They were in the middle of nowhere, drifting in interstellar space. Even if an entire fleet was looking for them it would be nearly impossible to find them in the vast nothingness that existed between star systems. Crisstof's ship looked to be a fairly modern frigate-class vessel that gleamed a bright white under the flood lights that illuminated her hull. The
Phoenix
, by comparison, was a tiny patch of black on more black as she had no external floods to light up the exterior, just some small marker lights on the ends of the wings and stabilizers.

             
The entrance to the hanger was on the top of the hull, directly in front of the bridge. A landing pad, complete with chasing marker lights, indicated where Jason should land. He cycled the landing gear, fought down a mild case of nerves, and edged the gunship over to match speed with the frigate. He then crabbed them directly over the landing pad and descended to a flawless touchdown. The crew of the frigate activated the grav plating on the pad, holding the gunship secure.

              "
Gunship-class vessel, Phoenix. Secure systems from flight operations and we'll bring you in. Welcome aboard the Diligent
," a voice said over the coms. Jason and Kage began shutting down the primary flight systems, starting with the engines. Once they, and the reactor, were secured and at minimal power, the platform they were on began to recess into the hull, taking them down into the hanger deck. When the lift stopped, a small hovering bot with strobing yellow lights appeared before the canopy and began to drift slowly away. It was obvious that Jason was supposed to follow it, so he nudged the taxi-motor controls and the
Phoenix
rolled slowly off the landing pad and into the interior of the ship.

             
Once parked in a spacious service bay, the crew went about doing the final shutdown and headed off the bridge. "Nice landing, Captain," Kage said once the others had filtered out.

              "Thanks," Jason said. "I didn't think Crisstof would take to kindly to me dinging his ship. It looks pricey."

              "That it does," Kage agreed. "So who do you think this guy is? He's not with the Eshquarian government, and this ship has to be insanely expensive to operate."

              "Hopefully all will be revealed shortly," Jason said, standing up and stretching. "In the meantime, I'd appreciate it if you would keep your instincts in check and not try to find the answers by breaking into their computers."

              "Sure thing, Captain," the excitable little alien said as they walked through the ship towards the cargo bay. When they arrived, the crew, and Crisstof, were standing around the rear pressure doors.

              "What's going on? Why is the ramp still up?" Jason asked.

              "That was my suggestion, Captain," Crisstof said. "I thought that you'd like to be the first one off the ship."

              "We don't really stand on ceremony or tradition all that much here, Crisstof," Jason said with a smile. "I have the job because I suspect nobody else wanted to put up with the hassle."  

              "Nevertheless, my captain does stand on such ceremony," the older man continued with a smile. "I'd like for the two of you to get off on the right foot as equals, it may be important that you can work together and respect each other mutually as the rulers of your respective domains." Jason didn't see why that would be necessary, but it was a simple request so he didn't push the issue. He smacked the controls to open the doors and drop the ramp and was surprised to see a humanoid female (a stunningly attractive one, no less) with jet black hair and an impeccable uniform of some type standing at the bottom. There was also a retinue of officers standing at attention off to her right, also dressed to impress. He looked down at his own utilitarian clothes, and then over at the ragtag bunch that made up the rest of Omega Force.
Shit.

             
He walked down the ramp with the touch of swagger he had begun to adopt as they established themselves as “outlaws.” As usual, Lucky and Crusher flanked him to either side and slightly behind in an impressive display of potential violence. Remembering his customs and courtesies from his few times on U.S. Naval vessels, Jason paused at the foot of the ramp and straightened slightly, but not actually coming to attention. “Captain,” he addressed the woman standing in front of him. “Requesting permission to come aboard.” There was a barely-perceptible raise of a single eyebrow as she regarded the group standing in front of her.

              “Permission granted, Captain Burke,” she said in an emotionless, but not unfriendly voice. “Welcome aboard the
Diligent
.”

              “Thank you,” Jason said as he stepped onto the deck, followed by the rest of his crew. Crisstof moved up to stand with the two captains and nodded in respect to the woman.

              “Jason,” he said familiarly, “may I introduce Captain Kellea Colleren. Kellea, this is Captain Jason Burke of the
Phoenix
and commanding officer of Omega Force. They’ve agreed to help us out with our little problem.”

              “Hopefully they’ll have better luck than we’ve had,” she said in a tone that indicated she doubted they would. With that she turned and walked away towards a hatch in the far wall leaving the others rushing to keep up. Crisstof did a sort of jog/skip to fall in beside her. The two began having a hushed conversation, believing they were out of earshot of the rest of the group. Jason smiled to himself, there was no way they could get far enough away on the hanger deck to avoid Lucky's hearing.

             
They all filed through the hatch and followed a series of non-descript passageways until they arrived in a utilitarian conference room, obviously built for ease of maintenance rather than comfort. At Captain Colleren's gesture they all seated themselves, with the exception of Lucky, who never sat in chairs. "This briefing is for the benefit of the newcomers," she began, "For the rest of you it will be more of a rehashing of things you should already know.

             
"I'll just say for the record that I don't agree with this new approach. I don't feel that hiring a group of outside...contractors... is going to deliver any better results than our own efforts have." She said it in such a matter-of-fact way that Jason was a bit taken aback, normally when someone was openly insulting they tried to soften it with a pseudo-apology.
Looks like it's going to be one of those... a pissing contest with some self-important officer who wasn't able to get the job done on her own.
Although he carried the title "Captain,” Jason's prejudices were still very much in line with his former enlisted life in the USAF. Too often officers with no experience, or little intelligence, simply got in the way of themselves and the people who were trying to perform the mission. He decided to head things off now before a pointless territorial dispute started.