The Gathering Storm - Part II
29 Oct 2017Jellicoe
"Thanks for getting me out of that shit hole Commander." La'Niyah said sitting on the bunk of the cabin she'd been assigned. She was a strikingly beautiful woman with wide blue eyes, pale flawless skin and full lips framed by long, tumbling dark hair. "I guess now you want paying?""The agreement was I take you with me in return for getting us past the MP's, you did your bit now it's my turn."
La'Niyah gave a bark of mirthless laughter. "You've really not been out here long have you? Honour isn't something that counts for much in the Pleiades, screw people for every last credit and when the money runs out move on their self respect."
"The pub?"
"Yeah." La'Niyah replied after a long exhale. "Life itself is cheap enough out here, dignity don't even register. Alberto was a good one for the Pleiades, he didn't expect me to do anything for the punters beyond smile while they were groping me, could've been a lot worse." She smiled sadly. "That's not what they show you back in the bubble is it? Back there you see a land of opportunity and everyone coming home a billionaire, nobody sees what happens to the rest of us."
"So what's your story?" Jellicoe asked.
"I was a freighter jock for Argent Inc. nothing special just hauling pods from A to B, then they offer big bonuses, tax free, to come work in the Pleiades, just keep your eyes shut and don't ask any questions."
"So what went wrong?"
"I got curious." She said with a sad smile. "We were doing drop offs for some scary people, don't know who they were but they sure freaked me the hell out. Anyway one of the questions we weren't supposed to ask was what am I carrying? But after seeing those guys and three pirate escapes I figured I had a right to know what I was hauling."
"Which was?"
"I never did find out." She said with an ironic smile. "The security was two good but they picked up that I'd tried which was enough. Fired as soon as I got back to base, accounts frozen and reputation trashed, so now I'm an ex freighter jock hundreds of light years from home with no money and completely unemployable."
"Unemployable?"
"Argent Incorporated have a lot of clout out here and when they do a number on you nobody'll hire you. God knows what I'll do now, don't suppose I can work my passage back to the bubble?"
"Maybe I can offer you more than that." Jellicoe replied. "You're a pilot?"
"Yeah, twelve years tramping cargo." La'Niyah replied, curiosity in her eyes.
"Seen much combat?"
"Precious little, in my line of work you ran rather than fought."
"Willing to learn?" Jellicoe asked.
"Where are you going with this Commander?"
"A freighter pilot's no use to me but I do need fighter pilots. It won't pay much to start with but prove yourself and you can make a lot more than you did hauling pods."
"You fucking prick." Wilbur's deep, growling voice almost spat from his holographic form in the Resolution's captain's ready room. Wilbur had been a miner, one who had been quick to see the possibilities of human expansion into the Pleiades and had reaped big rewards from his foresight. As more miners arrived in Maia and commerce with the bubble grew Wilbur again saw an opportunity hiring combat pilots and selling private security to fellow miners and traders. He was now one of the richest men in the system, in many ways the embodiment of the Pleiades dream, and as operations manager for the Ant Hill Mob one of its most powerful, right now he was also one of its most worried.
"And good morning to you too Wilbur." Jellicoe replied with a cheery smile.
"Don't 'good morning ' me you wanker, I've just spent most of it cleaning up your shit."
"My snit?" Jellicoe asked puzzled.
"Whatever the fuck you thought you were doing in Bertorelli's Bar."
"It was a pub brawl, Obsidian must have a hundred a day."
"Not that put three Fed marines in fucking hospital." Wilbur growled his craggy face like thunder. "And not led by a man on the PRE's most wanted list for knocking over a battlecruiser who our logs said wasn't even on the station. I've just spent the last fucking hour trying to convince a very senior officer that our security isn't a complete fucking shambles and they don't need to put 'advisors' in our docking control and security departments."
"Could they do that?" Jellicoe asked.
"Of course they fucking could. They want this station, we've just about kept our independence because we're more effort to take than they can be arsed to put in but if we piss them off enough they will do, and you son are becoming more trouble than you're worth."
"I thought I'd earned a few favours in that ruckus you chaps had with Coopers a while back?"
"Yeah we owed you a few and you pay your dues." Jellicoe raised a sardonic eyebrow at that description of the eye watering amount he paid the Mob to keep his visits off the books, Wilbur continued apparently oblivious. "But they're paid back with interest now, you owe us, and you stay the fuck away from Obsidian till I tell you otherwise."
"Alright, what about Darnielles?"
Wilbur thought for a moment. "You can use Darnielles, but the fees gone up to five mil."
"Call it three and a half." Jellicoe countered.
"This ain't no negotiation Jell, five mil plus 20k docking fee and if you get in any trouble you're on your own."
"You want to become Federation lap dogs?" Jellicoe goaded.
Wilbur breathed hard. "I don't like the Feds being here any more than you do Jell, but they are here, there's fuck all we can do about it and if we fight them they'll crush us, so we make the best of it, and if you get in the way we'll let them have you." This then was the Ant Hill Mob, hard men doing what they must to survive and prosper in a hard world. Not quite criminals but not entirely honest either and struggling to navigate the storms of superpower politics.