The Gathering Storm - Part IV
05 Nov 2017Jellicoe
Maia Point, MaiaHad one of his old acquaintances from the core worlds seen Stannis Jellicoe at this moment they would have been shocked indeed at his appearance, if they had even recognised him at all. Gone was the sharp immaculately tailored suit, even the expensive personalised flight suit was absent. The man sitting in the less than salubrious smoke filled bar in the down market part of Maia Point wore a pair of dusty black trousers and oil stained blue jacket over a plan, worn flight suit, the usually fastidiously clean shaven face sported the beginnings of a beard and his mop of blonde hair, always a little unruly was looking distinctly unkempt. He was sitting with a deeply tanned blonde woman in greasy overalls and similarly unkempt hair whose eyes constantly scanned the room before momentarily settling on a turbaned giant and a dark, wary man drinking together at the bar. Jellicoe himself was more circumspect in his observations but was still intently studying the bars other patrons, one hand always close to his holstered burst pistol. Being here at all was a risk, being her with a held full of Thargoid bio matter for a man that powerful people did not want to receive it only made things worse.
A nervous looking man entered the room, looking hopelessly out of place in his smart suit that screamed corporate exec to anyone who saw it. Jellicoe cursed and keyed a signal into his PDA . The man, alerted, checked his own looked up and came over.
"Mr Jellicoe I presume?" He asked sitting down and offering his index finger for bio-authentication.
"Great disguise." Jellicoe said icily while his slate ran the scan. "A boardroom suit in a miners bar, couldn't you have made some effort to blend in?"
"I don't think I'm ever going to pass for a miner Mr Jellicoe , and a bad disguise looks far more suspicious than non at all."
"Could you perhaps have found someone who could?"
"Possibly, but the fewer people who know we're helping circumvent a Federal blockade the less chance there is of it leaking, the last thing we need is the PRE coming after us."
"So why are you doing it?"
"The same reason I hope you are Mr Jellicoe, because it's the right thing to do." The man replied earnestly.
"I sometimes wonder if I still know what that is." Jellicoe said staring out of the window at the ships coming and going, a Cobra was taking off it's simple, classic lines rising from the pad before its nose turned skyward and engines roared into life "The PRE came after me on the return trip, how did they find out, someone in your organisation?"
"Not from us, only three of us even know about this, I'd stake my life on it."
"You just did." Jellicoe replied coldly. "Who then?"
"My guess is someone at Palin's centre." The man quailed before the hard eyed spacer. "The staff were never vetted for security, it's probably riddled with agents, so's this place by the way I really shouldn't be seen with you."
"Hangar number seven." Jellicoe replied. "I'll be gone within the hour so don't take your time collecting them."
The man nodded and worked his slate. "Good, then we're done." Jellicoe finished his drink and moved to rise when the man spoke again.
"Mr Jellicoe you might want to stay out of this system in future." Jellicoe raised a questioning eyebrow. "You can't trust the Ant Hill Mob. The Feds have got them rattled and a lot of their senior people want to be in with the big power out here, they'll hand you over without a second thought to get a favour from the PRE."
"So much for loyalty." Jellicoe said with a sardonic half smile.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this you know?" The man blurted out angrily. "The superpowers and their games, we came to the Pleiades to get away from all that, to be free men living in peace answerable only to each other and we were, till they found these damned meta-alloys and turned our haven into their war zone." The age old dream Jellicoe thought, leave the old behind, abandon its greed, its squabbles and its wars for the paradise of the latest el dorado. It never worked out like that, the distance was never quite enough, ties of family, memory and commerce intruded and the new, slowly but surely become enmeshed with the old and its greed, squabbles and wars became theirs once more. Perhaps Colonia was far enough away to escape this fate but he doubted it, and even if it were men and women would arise out there with their own greed and squabbles to wage new wars. He thought of the Alliance and before it GalCop, even the Federation and so on down the ages, flags raised, charters signed, great words spoken of new beginnings and noble futures but it was always the same, they all ended up just another rapacious powered vying for transitory prominence. Maybe one day the Pleiades would be free to choose its own destiny, so what? It would just end up like all the rest. He turned to Mira.
"There's a storm coming, and I don't think we're ready."