The Shattered Empire (The Shadow Space Chronicles Book 2) (3 page)

Garret seriously doubted she'd ever turn over any of the ships and he had some dark suspicions about what had happened to the prisoners she promised to 'repatriate' to the Centauri Confederation.

Of course, the people of Halcyon Colony didn't ask many questions, in that regard.  Their allies and hired help had come through, and they had liberated the planet.  But funding was tight, the Colonial Republic had cut all trade and the Centauri Confederation had already threatened to retaliate for the loss of their ships and the profit of Nova Corp.

So now the locals had turned to privateering... which meant more work for the War Dogs, of course, but it also meant stronger ties to a pirate.  A generous man would have assumed that it was just one of those things that happened.  Garret being an experienced mercenary figured it was all according to Admiral Mannetti's plan... and that the long term survival of his former homeworld was in far graver jeopardy than it's inhabitants realized.

“I assume that Commodore Pierce has already received payment for the transfer?” Garret asked.  Wherever his loyalties might, in theory, lie, he was still a mercenary.  Payment of goods and services was a necessity, especially for when this entire enterprise fell apart and the people of Halcyon colony were left holding the bag.

“Of course,” the nameless commander answered.

“Great,” Garret smiled.  He knew his white, even teeth would stand out starkly on his dark face and seem even more friendly.  “I'll just call Commodore Pierce, then, to confirm and see how many we've been paid for already.”

The nameless commander grimaced, “Oh, well, that's fine.  I, uh, meant to say that the President of Halcyon authorized a transfer for payment and I can arrange delivery.”

“Excellent,” Garret said and his smile grew broader.  “I'll wait then, until the payment arrives.”

The commander grimaced, again, “Usually this sort of thing is done on trust.”

“Good, then you can trust me to transfer the munitions upon receipt of payment,” Garret said.  “In the meantime, I've got some preparations to make.”  Garret turned away and didn't bother to listen for a reply.  He could almost hear the other man's teeth grind in frustration.  He listened as the other man struggled a moment to think up some way to dig himself out of the hole he'd dug and then turned and stalked away.  This kind of move was exactly the sleazy treatment he'd come to expect from Mannetti's people.  Why, after all, did they need to even pretend to be fair to the hired help?

Garret loved to turn that around on one of them, especially since he had caught the other man trying to cheat him.  The War Dogs couldn't afford the best munitions, but if they were transferring over enough to augment the Halcyon ships, then it would a quantity be worth hundreds of thousands in any currency worth mentioning.  The crews of those ships needed those munitions, Garret didn't doubt.  So far, they and the War Dogs had gone on two similar 'raids' with Admiral Mannetti.  To Garret, it looked more like the Admiral wanted to use them in high visibility missions to lessen her own exposure.

Commodore Pierce had remained remarkably quiet about why they had remained under the contract at Garris Major.  Garret had fully expected news that they would depart just after they'd turned over Heinlein Base to the locals.  Instead, the Commodore had attended a number of meetings with the newly elected President Monaghan and his staff. 
One of dad's old cronies,
Garret thought,
if I remember right.

“You want me to let them know to prepare to transfer the missiles?” Heller asked.  Her light voice and thick accent somehow managed to make even that sound sexy, Garret noted.  He nodded, “Yeah, but don't authorize movement until payment clears.”

“Ya, of course,” Heller said with a roll of her eyes.  She popped her ear-buds back in and bounced away.  The small, blonde woman looked almost like a teenager as she flounced away.

Garret just shook his head and headed for the War Dogs offices.  The huge bays of Heinlein Base were originally built for commerce, but they served more than adequately for warships.  His eyes picked out the men and women of his squadron as they moved out after the patrol.  Clint, Jason, and Caela headed with purpose towards the civilian section, no doubt to find a card game and company.  Ted, more cerebral, looked to be headed for the barracks, no doubt to dive into a book or one of his strategy games.  Jay and Ahmad both had girlfriends among the crew and they headed off together in a rush that made Garret smirk a bit.

The other four, Hugh, Tyrone, Jacel, and Jude, all oversaw the post-flight maintenance as the flight crews serviced their Hammers.  The big gunboats required extensive maintenance after each flight, far more than a fighter or even dedicated bomber.  The gun systems, especially, caused intense structural stresses on their hulls, but also all of the auxiliary systems, engines, and every other part of the big craft needed a full inspection after each flight and extensive maintenance.

Garret worked his way over to the War Dogs's offices.  Almost as soon as he stepped inside, he found Commodore Pierce waiting.  “What's this I hear about you refusing to transfer munitions?”

Garret sighed, “Not refusing, just requiring proof of payment, first, sir.”

“Well, good job, then,” Commodore Pierce said.  “It didn't sound right when that sniveling worm called me a moment ago.  How did the patrol go?”

That was one thing that Garret loved about the War Dogs.  Some mercenary companies went with rigid military structures and enforced draconian discipline, to the point that reporting was an intensive process.  “No sign of any activity from the RLF at Eldorado, but we didn't have time to linger and do a full scan.  I uploaded our data already to our network, if you want, I'll go brief Josh on it.”  Captain Josh Wachope was the War Dogs' operations officer.

“Nah, he'll want to review it and compare it to what Mannetti's people sent us from last week.  I think they filtered their sensor data before they turned it over.”  The tall, blonde man shook his head, “I'm about entirely fed up with those lying bastards at this point.  If not for...” he trailed off and shot Garret a sharp glance.  “Well, let's just say that the locals are lucky we're still here.”

“Right,” Garret nodded.  It was reassuring, in many ways, to see that the Commodore had the same feeling as far as Admiral Mannetti.  At the same time, Garret felt uncomfortable about the thought of leaving the planet to her tender mercies, especially since they didn't seem to realize how dangerous their alliance with her was becoming.  In some ways, the War Dogs prevented Admiral Mannetti from entirely leveraging the colony into her pocket.

“Garret,” Pierce's tone changed and Garret heard the slightest hesitation in the other man's voice.  “I know that you are originally from Halcyon.  I haven't brought it up before... I know damned well where your loyalty lies.”

Garret stood a little straighter at that.  His face flushed, though with his dark complexion it would have been hard to tell.  The War Dogs weren't just any mercenary company, in many ways they were family.  Better than his family had been, anyway.  “Thank you, sir.”

The Commodore shrugged, “Just calling things the way I see them.”  He cleared his throat, “However... I wonder if you might have contacts, here?”

“What do you mean by that, sir?” Garret asked.  He felt uneasy at the thought.  Granted, he hadn't any loyalty to the planet, but the way his superior had phrased it, it almost sounded as if they were talking about spying on their employers. 
Which is just good business sense for a mercenary company,
Garret thought.

“Friends, former companions, even family,” Commodore Pierce said.  “Anyone that you can talk with, possibly even leverage.  There's more here than their struggle for independence, you've seen that.  Hell, it's half the talk of our company.  The shift to privateering went too quickly, their crews were too eager, and their government is getting too friendly with the likes of Admiral Mannetti and Admiral Collae.”

Garret shrugged uncomfortably.  Not that he disagreed.  “Sir, what does that have to do with us?”  Granted, Admiral Mannetti and her people were snakes, but Admiral Collae had something of a good reputation as an opponent to the corrupt leaders of many of the Colonial Republic systems.

“I want to know
why
they're making such a big deal about such a backwater world.  They pissed in the faces of the Centauri Confederation and they seem to count on the likes of Admiral Mannetti to keep them safe... and I want to know why they trust a pirate so much and what leverage they think they have on her.  Because if their assumptions are wrong... we're going to be left holding the bag.”  Pierce leaned back against the wall, “And I don't like being left holding the bag.”

“Yes, sir,” Garret said.  He frowned in thought.  When he'd left, he hadn't stayed in touch with anyone, for good reason. 
My father was vindictive enough,
Garret thought darkly,
that he would have used my old friends against me
.  Of course, he could always try to to talk to Jessica...

“I'll figure something out, sir,” Garret said.  Yet he felt a spike of unease.  If there was some mysterious leverage, then he didn't doubt that his father was involved up to his neatly trimmed beard.  Spencer Penwaithe lived off of wealth and power like food and drink... and his plots were always labyrinthine.  For that matter, the new President was one of his father's old cronies, which basically ensured that his father was running things, or thought he was, from behind the scenes.  Getting involved in this would almost definitely draw him into his father's schemes yet again.  On the other hand, with the fate of the War Dogs on the line, there wasn't really much choice.  Garret let out a deep breath, “After all, I remember where my loyalty lies.”

“Good,” Commodore Pierce gave him a pat on the shoulder.  “Oh, and when Mannetti's people call you back on the missiles, tell them there was an accounting error and that we're hiking the price by ten percent.”

***

Eldorado, Garris Major System

Colonial Republic

May 3, 2403

Mason and Lauren followed the ornately dressed monk towards the pillars of the monastery.  After his initial announcement, he had deflected Mason's other questions.  Lauren found him irritating.  She didn't hold with holy men, not of any stripe.  In her mind, any kind of higher power would have gotten itself involved already if it cared.  What that meant was that either God didn't exist or he didn't care, in Lauren's book.

What that left holy men, in her regard, was either dupes or charlatans.  The obvious intelligence of the monk suggested that he was the latter.  They stepped under the awning of the monastery.  The large stone pillars that upheld the ornate roof also divided the structure into separate areas.  Up close, Lauren could see that there were a number of glass display cases, which had held what looked like scrolls, stone tablets, and other odd artifacts. 
Had being the operative word,
Lauren thought dryly.

Someone had smashed the glass cases and torn bits of ancient parchment, smashed stone tablets, and broken glass littered the floors.  Overturned tables marked a swath of destruction. The damage was complete and utterly thorough.

Mason turned to Lan, “I'm so sorry.  This is my fault...”

“This is the fault of the men who did it,” Lan said, his voice calm.  “I did not show you this to make you feel guilt, I showed you it so that you can see the determination of those who hunt you.”

“What else did they do?” Mason asked.  There was a detached tone to his voice, almost as if he were tapping into some part of him that did not involve emotion.

“When I initially refused to divulge your location, they first threatened the collection of items we had here.  I refused, so they destroyed them.  They then threatened my people.  However, I made it clear that not only would we not cooperate, but that I would kill myself rather than capitulate,” Lan said.

Mason winced.  Lauren gave the old man a skeptical look.  Passive resistance in that form only went so far, in her mind.  Granted, the mercenaries needed him alive, but she didn't see how the man could prove his determination short of acting on it.  Lan caught her look and gave her a small smile, he raised his wrists.  She saw, with shock, that he had two bandages, one over each of his wrists.

“The mercenaries moved quickly to have a doctor save my life.  After that, they did not further threaten my people, they merely made a recording, threatening the monastery, which they said they posted.”

Mason sighed, “I'm sorry, Lan.  I've been out of contact for the past few months with no way to find their message.  Otherwise, I would have come sooner.”

“Then I am disappointed in you,” Lan said, his voice calm.  “I had assumed you realized that showing up would further endanger us, so you stayed away.  The mercenaries would have left, eventually.  Perhaps, then, they would have lived.”  Lan turned, “I see that you have returned to violence.”  The way he said it, Lauren could tell it wasn't a question.

Mason looked away.  “Some things happened.”

“As I expected,” Lan said.  “As happened here, the last time my people were under threat.”  The monk sighed.  “This, Mason, is why you had to leave before.”

“Because he defends the people he cares about?” Lauren snapped.  She was tired of seeing Mason lectured.  Yes, he had done terrible things. Yes, he had a core of violence.  If he used that in the right way, she didn't see the issue.