Logbook entry

The Cemiess Crisis Part I

06 Sep 2016Jellicoe
Mackenzie Relay was in uproar. It was less than forty-eight hours since the attempted assassination of Denton Patreus and a security clampdown was well underway, the docking bay in particular was swamped with police supported by a very visible detachment of naval infantry. All departing ships were being thoroughly checked, the would be killers might have been apprehended but if they had accomplices still at large the authorities were determined they would not get off the station. The business district and other public areas of the station also had a heavy and very obvious police presence and the stations rulers sought to reassure the senator and leave the people in no doubt that they were firmly in control. In the parts of the station occupied by the rich and privileged things were rather different, here the security was discreet, unobtrusive and intended to reassure rather than intimidate and in the bars, clubs and restaurants frequented by the elite it was all but invisible though only a fool would doubt it was very effective should it be required. One such establishment was the ‘Spirit of Achenar’ and expensive, exclusive restaurant but one that did not frown on business being done on its premises. At a secluded table in one of the establishments booths sat a tall man in a magnificently tailored suit from one of the galaxy’s finest gentlemen’s outfitters, it was cut in the Federation style but that was by no means as rare as it had once been here as Federation businessmen, diplomats and tourists were a fairly commonplace in Cemiess. More unusual by far in the ‘Spirit of Achenar’ was the mans companion, a shorter, stocky man dressed in the Imperial style but in a suit bought off the peg rather than made to measure as was di rigour for patrons of such an upmarket establishment. The tall man took a sip of wine, swilled it around his mouth, swallowed and nodded to the immaculately uniformed waiter who stood by the table.

“Yes that’s excellent.” He said

“Very good sir, shall I pour?”

“Please.” The tall man replied before turning to his companion. “If you have no other preference may I recommend this one? It’s a first class vintage.” The smaller man looked relieved and grateful for the hint, information brokers, even the good ones did not make nearly enough money to become connoisseurs of fine wines or to eat in places like this and he had been dreading embarrassing himself.

“Happy to go with your judgment, you always did know your wines.” The small man answered as the waiter poured.

“Have a second bottle would you?” The tall man asked the waiter. “I doubt one will be enough, and have a bottle of Lavian ’64 put aside for us for after dinner please.” The smaller man inwardly smiled, the drinks alone would cost more than he usually made in a month his associate must want to know something very badly and that meant he would pay handsomely for it.

“I assume you want to know something to go to all this trouble?” The smaller man asked when the waiter padded off.

“Don’t let’s spoil dinner by talking shop.” The tall man replied. “Plenty of time for that over brandy.”

“As you wish.” The small man said with a smile, he knew he was being softened up but was willing to play along and the two enjoyed a delicious meal, old associates (never quite friends) chewing the fat and putting the galaxy to rights. After they had finished eating the waiter returned.

“Would you care for a dessert sir?”

“I’ve had quite enough.” The smaller man answered, despite himself he could feel the food and drink slowing his brain.

“I insist.” The tall man cut in. “The Crème Custard here is said to be a marvel. Two of them please.” He directed the waiter.

“Of course sir.” The waiter padded off again. The two enjoyed a superb dessert and when their table had been cleared and the brandy was poured the tall man took out two of the finest Kamitran cigars, gave one to his associate and lit the other. The smaller manlit his, took a puff and sat back.

“So now will you tell me just what brings Stannis Jellicoe this far into the Empire?”

“A job. A big shot pirate I’m taking down.” The tall man, Jellicoe, answered.

“Long way to come for a single hit.” The small man replied.

“They’re paying me a lot of money, two and a half million plus the bounty.”

“Got a name?” If he’s in this sector I’ll be able to find him for you.” The smaller man sensed there was something else here, men as rich as Jellicoe didn’t take jobs like this, he had once been a reaper; one of the best, but now he did what he wanted, when he wanted and he had the money to do it for the rest of his life.

“A call sign – Bleriot. Word is he has friends in Cemiess.”

“Yes I know the name, my fee’s usually twenty-five thousand plus expenses, but as I’ve had an excellent dinner I’ll do it for twenty-two.”

“Make it thirty.” Jellicoe said with a smile. “This is personal.”

“This is crap the smaller man thought, personal or not nobody pays more than they have to and he could easily have got the information a lot more cheaply and easily from any number of sources. “Okay I should have something within twenty-four hours, thirty-six at the outside.”

“Splendid.” Jellicoe answered. Oh there is one more thing while you’re here.” Here it comes, the smaller man thought and almost rubbed his hands in anticipation of his possible fee. “Yesterday morning a ship disappeared in this system, a mayday message claimed they were being boarded and there’s been no trace of them since.” The smaller man began sweating and felt an ice cold knot of fear tighten in his stomach, not this, anything but this. “I’d very much like to know what happened to the crew.”

“I don’t know anything.” The smaller man stammered.

“Roj I’ve not even given you a name yet.”

“I don’t care I don’t know anything.” Roj stuttered, fear etched across his face.

“Could you find out?”

“No.”

“Ten million credits.” Jellicoe said coolly.

“You could offer me every penny you’ve got and I’d still say no. Money’s only any use if you live to spend it.”

“Very well, can you put it out to your contacts that Stannis Jellicoe will pay ten million credits to anyone who gives me the location of Commander Salomé?”

“No. I’m not getting involved Stannis, full stop and if you want to stay alive neither will you. I know you’ve been told that a hundred times before and always proved them wrong but this is different, this is on another level to anything you’ve ever taken on before.”

“You do know something then?”

“Very little, which is still more than I want to and I’m not saying anything, to you or anyone else. It’s been good seeing you again Stannis but I should go now and if you are going to follow this up then don’t come near me again.” Jellicoe took a puff from his cigar, nodded and sat back in his chair as Roj left.



As Roj Jenna walked home through the highest security part of the station three masked men in black one piece utility suits stepped out to block his path.

“Hand over your wallet and jewellery and nobody gets hurt.” The man in the middle said drawing a gun. Roj actually felt a surge of relief that it was ‘only’ a robbery, he never imagined he would feel glad that he was just being mugged.

“Take it easy lads.” He said spreading his arms. “It’s in my inside pocket yeah? I’m just going to take…” He was cut off by a gunshot, then a second, then a third, then he knew no more.

The following day three small time street crooks were arrested and charged with Roj Jenna’s murder, though all had solid alibies DNA evidence was produced and considered conclusive and under the state of emergency regulations declared following the attempted murder of Patreus they were tried, convicted and executed the very next day, all three loudly protesting their innocence even on the headsman’s block. Coming so soon after an attempted assassination of the admiral of the imperial fleet the murder of a small time data broker and the execution of his killers received little coverage but out in space on the bridge of a heavily modified starship a tall man in an expensive flight suit was giving its meaning a great deal of consideration and he very much doubted that justice had been done.
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