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Authors: Joshua Dalzelle

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BOOK: Soldiers of Fortune
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They were in a large common area that was dotted with tables and couches, off of that were alcoves and passageways that led away to other parts of that section of the station. After a moment Jason began to pick his way among the scattered beings lounging around. "Let's find a quiet corner to wait this out."

 

              "I couldn't agree more," Crusher said with obvious disgust in his voice. As they made their way around the perimeter of the common area Jason could see one of the passageways seemed to lead to a bar of some sort. He was in no mood for a drink, but places like that seemed to be the best location to pick up intel on the locale.

             
As they made their way down the darkened corridor they became aware of the branching alcoves that jutted off of the main passage and were covered with thin, decorative curtains. The pitiful sounds coming from beyond that flimsy barrier left little to the imagination as to what was happening just out of view. Jason's jaw set in an angry line and, seemingly before he realized he was doing it, was making his way for the first alcove. Kidnapping females on raids was hardly rare, nor was holding them captive in such a depraved and vicious manner, but it was one of the few times Jason had been personally close enough to do something about it. Before he reached the curtain Doc grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

 

              "Are you insane!? We're trying to keep a low profile so we can get out of here," he hissed. Jason looked at him with open contempt.

 

              "So you're perfectly content to allow that to continue?"

 

              "Of course not, don't you dare insult me like that," Doc said vehemently, still keeping his voice down. "But we're trying to save the lives of hundreds, maybe even thousands. What do you think will happen? These animals will see the error of their ways? Or is it more likely we'll be swarmed and torn apart? Is the life of one person worth all that?"

 

              "I don't know... maybe we could have asked your sister, had she survived such a place..." Doc struck so quick that Jason didn't have time to block or dodge at all, and the punch hit him square in the mouth, snapping his head back and drawing blood.

 

              "You sanctimonious ass," Doc snarled, shaking. "You think a day goes by I don't think of her and what was done? Why do you think I'm here? I'm answering
your
call to action; to step in and end this type of thing..." He trailed off at Jason's enraged glare, realizing the fatal flaw in his own logic.

 

              "We're starting to attract attention," Crusher murmured. "Let's take this someplace else."

 

              "Good idea," Jason said, hitting Doc with his shoulder as he brushed by the pair and made his way towards their original destination.

 

              The next twenty minutes sitting at a corner table were tense, to say the least. Doc and Jason refused to meet each other's gaze or otherwise acknowledge the other's presence. Crusher watched this as long as he could before rolling his eyes and standing up.

             
"I'm going to walk the perimeter of this place and get a feel for the layout," he said, glaring down at the pair. "When I get back, this bullshit better be done with. We have things to do that are too important to have them jeopardized with your infantile squabbling." Jason glared at the warrior's departing back; he didn't appreciate hearing that his righteous indignation in reality was making him look like a jackass with a maturity problem. Doc broke the thick silence first;

 

              "I'm sorry I hit you... Captain."

 

              "I guess I deserved it. I'm sorry I brought up your sister, Jorvren," Jason said, using Doc's real first name for the first time since he had given him his nickname. "I was out of line. I hope you can forgive me."

 

              "I understand, Jason, I really do," Doc said, also dropping rank and monikers from their conversation. "I feel much like you do, but I'm used to
not
being able to directly do anything about it. I don't have the strength or training you and Crusher do, and I was serious about answering to a higher calling. While I would have never dreamed that I'd end up in a crew like Omega Force, I'm committed to the idea that the few of us really can make a real difference."

 

              "Ok," Jason said brusquely, not entirely comfortable with all the soul-baring. "We're both sorry, so let's move on to something that's been bugging me. This space station was purpose-built, and by pros."

 

              "Agreed," Doc said. "And they're also keeping us low-lives segregated from the operational centers and the regular crew. These are significant, but I'm not entirely sure why yet."

             
It was another fifteen minutes before Crusher ambled back over to their table, the other patrons giving him a wide berth as he didn't bother trying to dodge them. He sat down and leaned in conspiratorially, "This seems to be a holding pen for the pirates and other assorted scumbags being used to pull off these raids. Every once in a while the guards open up the main doors and send a runner in to bring out one person or another, but other than that nobody ventures out of this area."

 

              "We were just discussing that," Jason said. "I'm starting to think the dimwits in here are simply a distraction, or camouflage. If one, or even a few, are caught it just looks like an uptick in crime. These aren't all local boys either; there isn't enough work to go around in the Cluster to support an underworld this extensive. I feel like we're missing some critical piece to all this."

 

              "So where does that leave us?" Doc asked.

 

              "Fuck if I know. But I doubt it's anyplace good. We're either going to be roped into participating in another raid or we're not going to be allowed to leave at all," Jason said glumly.

             
As it turned out, none of them were entirely correct. A pair of guards entered the small bar area and, after a brief look over the room, walked directly to the three. "We're to escort you outside," the one said simply.

 

              "What for?" Crusher asked belligerently.

 

              "To receive payment for the rescue and transport of Dowarty," the guard said, giving no indication that Crusher's demeanor was getting under his skin.

 

              "Lead on," Jason said as he stood up from the table.

             

              They followed the guards back through the stinking common area they had entered through and into the open space beyond, each taking a refreshing breath of shipboard air that had been scrubbed by the recyclers. Dowarty himself was waiting for them, now changed and apparently feeling much better after a trip through the Complex's medical facility.

 

              "Gentlemen," he smiled broadly. "I believe we have an account to settle up. I don't wish to be rude, but the quicker you're paid, the quicker you can be on your way."

 

              "Can't argue there," Jason said. "We're not making any money sitting around here, as nice as it is."

 

              "Of course. I think you'll find that the amount is far more generous than what we originally agreed to," Dowarty said. "The extra amount is for your... discretion... about what you've seen here. If you agree I'll have it sent to your ship's treasury at once."

 

              "Looks more than fair to me, our added discretion considered," Jason said, not being able to help his eyebrows shooting up at the amount Dowarty had shown him on data tablet.

 

              "Excellent!" Dowarty clapped his hands once, enthusiastically. "Now then, we've got a bit of a situation developing here, so my men will escort you back to your ship where you can await clearance to depart. Know that you have my personal thanks, Captain. Had I or my ship fallen into the hands of the authorities, things could have been quite bad for me."

 

              "Happy to help," Jason said with a forced grin, "and of course happy to lighten your account a tad." Dowarty laughed genuinely at that.

 

              "Worth every credit, I assure you. Between the saving of my life, and creative acquisition of rare antiquities, I'm somewhat sorry to see you depart. I'm including a secured inbox address with your payment, if you ever are looking for work, or even a permanent arrangement, let me know." With that Dowarty turned and walked through a side hatchway before Jason could answer him. Without a word, one of the guards nodded to indicate they should follow him back the way they had originally come towards the lifts that would take them back to the docking arms.

             
They rode the lift in complete silence until they arrived at the junction that would let them enter the gangway that led back to the
Phoenix
. When they entered the junction, however, they were unprepared for the familiar sight, and sound, of someone they least suspected to see.

 

              "...needs to understand that timing is everything, too much longer and our fleet will be in position to act. Colleston is losing control of the legislature, the time for half measures is over. Tell Dowarty that..."

             
The other set of lift doors closed, blocking off the remainder of the conversation. But the man had been unmistakable in his fine suit and slick talking manner. It had been Prime Minister Colleston's Chief of Staff: Mr. Kross. Jason and Doc exchanged a meaningful glance before turning back to their escort.

 

              "I suppose this is where we part ways," Jason said. "Good luck with everything you guys are into. Tell control to let us know when we're cleared to depart." When the guard nodded disinterestedly he spun and walked as fast as he could manage up the gangway where his ship was waiting for him.
What the FUCK was Kross doing here? This can't mean anything good.

             
"Lock her up and meet us on the bridge," Jason said to Lucky as he rushed through the hatch and ran from the airlock chamber up to the command deck with the others on his heels. When he ran onto the bridge, he was pleased to see Twingo and Kage were alert and looked appropriately worried.
Wait... they don't know what's going on yet. What are they worried about?

 

              "What?"

 

              "Show him," Twingo said. Wordlessly Kage turned to his panel and projected a time-lapse sensor feed onto the forward canopy. Jason could see three large contacts mesh in, followed by a slew of smaller ships. The passive sensors showed massive energy signatures on the larger ships. That usually indicated one thing: warships.

 

              "Whose are they?" Jason asked, slightly dry mouthed. Three destroyer-class ships was a lot of firepower in the hands of a bunch of "pirates."

 

              "No idea," Kage said. "They came in dark, no transponder squawks. They look to be of the same origin as the ships that make up the station. Same goes for their smaller escort ships. They've parked seventy-thousand kilometers off our starboard side and are holding formation there. This doesn't seem good."

 

              "It's worse than that," Jason said. "Doc?"

 

              "While we were coming back we ran into one Mr. Kross making his way down into The Complex." Doc said.

 

              "Kross? As in Eshquarian Executive Chief of Staff Kross?" Kage asked incredulously.

 

              "One and the same," Jason confirmed. "This was just a few minutes ago. What ships have arrived on this docking junction recently?" Kage's four hands flew over the controls.

 

              "Nothing Eshquarian. There is a private high-speed transport that docked twenty minutes ago and... now
this
is interesting... a ConFed VIP transport came in and docked an hour before that."

 

              "What?!"

 

              "No mistaking it, Captain. They're not transmitting ConFed codes, but the configuration is unmistakable," Kage said with raised hands.

 

              "What in the fuck is going on here?!" Jason asked to nobody in particular. "Ok, we're way out of our league here... as soon as we get cleared to leave, we're jumping a short hop and calling Crisstof to turn this over to him. We're not equipped to handle whatever the hell this is."

 

              "If Kross brought a private transport, we can assume he is not here at the behest of the Eshquarian government," Lucky said.

BOOK: Soldiers of Fortune
10.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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