Logbook entry

The Reaper Diaries # 13: Redemption, Part 4

04 Nov 2015Michael Wolfe
“Be yourself!”

Parents, counselors, teachers, friends- they all love saying that, don’t they?

Then, they tell you to stop doing the things that make you… well, you.

Me being myself got me into a lot trouble as a kid. It for damn sure would get me in trouble in Pegasi.

The solution? Be not myself for awhile.

I was sitting in a dingy corner booth at one of Ackerman Market’s dive bars. Across from me was Rax, my contact for all things frowned upon by Authority in the Eravate System. Normally, he was happy to see me, since my arrival usually meant that he was about to get his hands on something valuable.  

Today, he was not happy to see me.

“This ain’t normally the kind of work I do, Lehman,” he growled between drinks of whiskey.

I took a sip of my own.

“I get that, Rax. All I’m asking for is a little help. It doesn’t even have to be you. Just someone you trust to do it.”

Rax looked around, and leaned in close.

“I wouldn’t trust my own mother to do it- even if she knew how.”

I raised my eyebrows. “It can’t be that complicated, can it? And if you can’t trust your own mother, who can you trust?”

He leaned back.

“You ain’t never seen what happens if Pilot’s Fed catches wind that you’re altering their IDs. And you ain’t never met my mother. She’d turn in any of us kids if there was a bounty, just like she did to dad.”

“Sounds like a hell of a lady.”

Rax let out a short laugh.

“You’ve got no idea. Always made a tasty meatloaf, though.”

I signaled the waitress for another drink.

“So, can you make it happen, or not?

He looked down and sighed.

“I know a man, yes. But he don’t work for free.”

The waitress set my beer down. I handed her a credit chip with a nod. She smiled and walked away.

“No one ever does, these days. What are we talking?”

Rax looked up- “Last I heard, half a mil. Of course, that was before he started getting paranoid.”

Jesus. Five hundred k just to change some letters on a Pilot’s Fed ID?

“Done. There’s also the issue of ship storage…”

Rax looked at me oddly. “Then see the dock manager. What’s that got to do with me?”

I took a sip of my beer. “Rax, I need to disappear. That means my ship, too.  How many Vultures do you see flying around, even in Fed space? I don’t know how long I’m going to be gone. I don’t even know if I’m coming back. So yeah- my ship, too. Money ain’t an issue.”

He nodded, understanding. “Yeah, I can set you up. We’ve got some facilities planetside that Authority doesn’t know about. Underground, scan-shielded, like it ain’t even there. Got a few toys parked there, myself.  Give me half a day, and I’ll arrange for everyone to meet planetside.”

I nodded. “Sounds good.”

Rax got up, straightened out his jacket collar, and turned to me-“And Matt?”

I looked up. “Yeah?”

He made a face. “Get yourself a dock knocker or something. You seem a little tense. My man doesn’t do work for tense people.”

*********************************************

Well, if anyone could find us at Rax's secret spot, then we deserved to be found.



It turns out, Rax’s hideout was at Jayne City, which was the laughable name for an abandoned ghost town on Eravate 5. It was in the middle of a wasteland, and the only reason it existed was because it was next to a uranium mine that went deep underground. At least, it was a mine. According to official records, the cheddar had dried up about twenty years ago, along with any reason for the town’s existence. Now, it was nothing but abandoned buildings, slowly being reclaimed by the sandy wastes.

The mines themselves were still operational- at least, the heavy equipment was. The main entryway was sealed by giant blast doors, revealing a vertical tunnel big enough to allow an Asp to land deep underground, in the bowels of the mine itself- provided the pilot was paying attention.

It was a nerve-racking descent, relying on my proximity sensors and seeing rock wall illuminated by the Vulture’s search lights in front of me. I had about sixty feet of clearance around my ship, and while that might seem like a lot, it still felt awfully tight compared to an open-vacuum landing pad on an outpost, or the cavernous docking tube of a Coriolis.      

<128 meters until touchdown>

“First time’s a bit of a squeezer, ain’t it?”

Rax had already landed below me, in his Viper.

< 115 meters until touchdown>

“Time was, company pilots used to go up and down this shaft on the regular to get loaded up with uranium ore. They would even take those big goddamn Asps down here- I bet that made for some sweaty palms, eh?”

< 98 meters until touchdown>

This had better be worth it.

“Also, our man is already set up and waiting. He got here awhile ago. Bitched and bitched about the facilities, but he’s finally made himself at home.”

< 76 meters until touchdown>

“And don’t bother asking his name. He won’t give it.”

< 64 meters until touchdown>

“And don’t introduce yourself. He already knows who you are. Just be straight to the point, stand back, and let him work.”

< 50 meters until touchdown>

Just let the ship descend. Pay attention to the instruments.

< 38 meters until touchdown>

“You ever grab yourself a little piece of relief? God knows you’ve had enough time.”

<27 meters until touchdown>

I keyed the comm. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.”

< 16 meters until touchdown>

“You do like that sort of thing, right? Haven’t gone Utopian on us this last year, have you?”

<8 meters until touchdown>

For God’s sake, you’re about to land on my ship!”

Shit… what the??! The sensors didn’t pick up anything!

I slammed on the brakes, causing my Vultures to drift perilously close to the tunnel wall. I missed it, but only by about ten feet.

The Hand of Blue hovered in place near the bottom of the mineshaft. There was nothing on the comms. Then… snickering. Which turned into the sound of three or four men laughing their asses off.

I keyed the comm. “You’re a real asshole, you know that, Rax?”

In between fits of laughter, Rax keyed back: “Tradition, lad! Everybody gets a raft of shit the first time down the shaft! Now get landed so that our man isn’t kept waiting. Set down somewhere out of the way. We’ll come to you.”

This f*cking guy.

The comm keyed again. “But if it smells rancid in your flight suit, we’ll understand if you need to take ten minutes for yourself!” More laughter in the background.

< landing successful>

Yep. This had better be worth it.

********************************************************************************

The Jayne City Mine had its ups and downs as a smuggler's emporium.

On one hand, it was spacious, had some left-over equipment that must have been really expensive, and was the perfect hideout. It had a kitchen, living quarters, and entertainment facilities. Miners had been expected to live down here, so the company had built everything they needed, hundreds of feet below the surface. There was even a hanger with room for several ships after Rax and his men got through installing the right equipment. Parked down here, barely visible in the dark, were a few Cobras, a few Haulers, Rax’s Viper, and- was that a Fer-de-Lance? Everywhere we walked, there were stacks and stacks of cargo containers, holding- who knows? It’s not like they were marked. But there must have been a damn fortune’s worth of stolen goods down here. It was a warehouse as much as anything else.

On the other hand, it was a goddamn abandoned mine. It was dark, creepy, and God-knows-what lived other than honest criminals like Rax. Before I got out of my ship, he had come over the comm and advised me to strap on a sidearm. A rifle, too, if I had one. For the rats, he had said. Well, what kind of rat needs a goddamn assault rifle to fend off?

It was just part of the homey charm that had drawn Rax to the place, I suppose.

Rax and his roughneck friends were already waiting for me by the time I was getting out of my Vulture. He hadn’t been joking about the guns- him and each of his men were toting military-grade weapons, and all of them were wearing night-vision. I must have looked inquisitive, because he tossed me a pair and said:

“Even with the lights on, it’s still pretty shadowy, you know? And things around here go bump in the night, no matter how many we bag. Hope that pop gun is loaded.”

Pop gun? I had grabbed my best rifle- a bolter carbine that fired tungsten slugs. Anything that this baby hits takes a permanent break from having a pulse- or intact guts, for that matter.

“Let’s just get moving.”

Rax lit up a cigarette. “Aye, lad. Follow me. Don’t make more noise than you have to, at least until we get to the main entrance. The rats don’t seem to like the smell there much.”

It was a fairly long walk to the main entrance, burrowed against the rock wall. And Rax had been right- even with industrial stadium lights installed on the cave roof, it was a pretty hard to see without night vision. Looking down, I could see that there had been rail tracks that took people and cargo to and from the loading area, but they were twisted and unusable.

We made it to the main doors without incident, even though the men around seemed just a tad nervous. Rax unsheathed his machete blade, and wrapped it against the door in a rhythmic pattern.



Bang bang.

Bangbangbang.


He re-sheathed it, and for a moment, nothing happened.

Then, the door started to slowly open, displacing rubble and filling the chamber with hydraulic noises. Rax, gestured, and we moved on in the station.
Inside was much better lit, but not what I would call cheerful. The corridor was mainly empty, save for the occasional cargo container and rough-looking smuggler. We rounded a corner, opened a door, and-



This had to be the guy.

He looked up, right at me. Turning to Rax, he asked, “This him?”

Rax nodded.

The man in front of the monitors took a bite of his food bar, and asked with a full mouth-

“You’re sure he’s cool? He looks kinda pretty to be one of us. Cops like being pretty.”

Rax shrugged. “He’s been delivering to me for years.”

Hacker Man eyed me suspiciously. “Yeah, cops do that, too. Let’s see how he smells.”

He picked up a hand-held device from his desk and waved it at me, the device flashing and making a rhythmic beeping noise. Finally, it let out a long beep. The hacker took another bite.

“Well, Fido here likes you. No implants other than standard Pilot’s Fed. No nano-anything.”

He took another bite.

“Yeah. We can deal.”

Rax patted me on the shoulder. “We’ll just leave you two alone. I’ll be in the bar. Turn right, first door on the left. You can’t miss it. See you soon, lad.”

The rest of the men shuffled out of the messy little hovel in which the hacker had set up shop. He gestured for me to have a seat on a torn-up office chair.

“So, I hear that you’re tired of being you.”

I nodded. “Something like that. How much-“

He cut me off. “A million. Straight up. Onto this chip”

He slid a credit ship across the table to me. Attached to it was a strange conical device I had never seen.

“It’s untraceable. My own little setup. Won’t even report the transaction for another week, and by then I’ll be long gone.”

Jesus Christ. A million, just to change around some letters?

“That seems a little steep. I’m just trying to-“

He clapped his hand and started to get up- “Ok, pal, nice talking to you! Don’t get eaten on the way back to your ship.”

Shit.

“Ok, ok, ok!

He turned around.

“One goddamn mil. You had better be good.”

He sat down again, grinning like a clown.

“If I was any better at this, they would scoop out my brain and give me a new job as central AI. Let’s see your ID. And mind the credit chip, huh?”

I handed him my Pilot’s Fed ID, and he slid it into a disk reader attached to one of his monitors. He took another Pilot’s Fed ID from his shirt pocket, and slid it in one right above where mine had gone.

Hesitantly, I loaded a million of my hard-earned credits onto his chip, and slid it over to him. Goodbye, million credits. He stuffed it into his shirt pocket without even looking at it.

Hacker Man rubbed his hands together, and looked at me like an excited little boy. “Now, let’s make you disappear.”

Up on his monitors were lines and lines of code. I had no idea what was going on, but I saw the occasional logo that I recognized. Hacker Man looked up, frowning.

“So, does Rax know you’re with the inquisition? Because that would make him pretty grumpy.”

No sense lying to the man.

“We’ve all got our secrets. How do you feel about it?”

Hacker Man just shrugged. “If you thought you could keep it a secret from me during all this, you’re even dumber than you look. Besides, something tells me you ain’t exactly on the clock. So it ain’t no skin off my nose.”

He started typing furiously, still taking bites of his food cartridge.

“But seriously, don’t let Rax know.”

I looked at him hard.

You ain’t going to tell him?”

Again, Hacker Man just shrugged as he was typing.

“Included in your million-credit purchase is the ‘no blabbing guarantee’. It’s kind of important in my line of work. Besides, if you knew what I knew about Rax, you would shit yourself.”

Great.

“Hey pretty boy, I need you put your finger on this pad. Right there in the groove.”

He motioned to a small box-looking device, next to the ID reader. Shrugging, I placed my finger on it, and-

“Ow!” I looked at my finger. There was a droplet of blood beading up on the tip.

Hacker Man chuckled.

“By the way, you may feel a bit of a prick.”

I wiped the blood on my pant leg. “I think you’re a bit of a prick.”

Hacker man sighed and rolled his eyes, like he had had this conversation a dozen times before.“I have to integrate your biometrics with your new ID somehow, and I ain’t interested in the other fluid samples you can provide. So you’re welcome.”

He triumphantly hit the “enter” key and took a giant bite out of his food bar.

After a few moments, he pulled out my new ID and gave it to me. “Congradulations on your new life, Mr. Virgil Titmouse!”

Virgil Titmouse?

“Virgil Titmouse? The hell kind of name is that?”

Hacker Man shrugged.

“The kind of name that people were giving their kids back in the 29th century, when he died. I fished ol’ Virgil out of the Pilot’s Fed registry when I heard from Rax that he had scored me a swap job. After you showed up, I switched his status from ‘deceased’ to ‘active’, changed his birthday to something that looks like yours, and overwrote all of your biometric info on top of his.  All in all, it’s the best day he’s had in centuries.”

Virgil Titmouse. How the hell am I going to get any respect from the Kumo Crew with a name like Virgil Goddamned Titmouse?

“Thanks, I guess, Mr., uh-“

He didn’t go for a handshake... instead, he forced me into an awkward fist-bump. “Ziggy. Just call me Ziggy.”

I looked at my other ID card, still in his drive. “What about my real ID? What’s happens with that?”

He glanced back at it. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. It’s still there, waiting for you to come home. Nothing’s happened to your finances, but I will let you know that Virgil has been generously gifted five million credits from one M. Lehman. That guy must be a saint.

He ejected the card and held it up. “I wouldn’t travel with it, though. If you’re caught with two of these, there ain’t a power in the ‘verse that can help you. Just keep it somewhere safe.”

Safe? Where’s that?

I made my way to the bar, where Rax and his crew were already crowded around a corner booth. Right on their table was several icy buckets, full of beer bottles. The place was actually fairly busy- I guess Jayne City Mine was a pretty popular spot for scum and villainy. Though making a quick pile of credits hadn’t been on my mind, the bounty-hunter side of me couldn’t help but sniff all the pay dirt around me.

What Authority wouldn’t give to know about this place.

Rax raised his bottle when he saw me.

“C’mere, kid! Let’s see the new you!”

Jesus, just say it in front of everyone, will you?

I walked over and flashed my new ID. Everyone at the table busted up laughing.

“The hell kind of name of Virgil?” Rax asked between laughing fits.

"I'm just picturing a really stacked mouse!" laughed another.

I looked at my ID again. Yep, there I was. My ugly mug with that name right next it. And Rax’s crew were still laughing their asses off.

Rax wiped a tear from his eye. “Well, we can’t all get lucky with Switchblade Killingworth, now can we?”

I settled in next to them. “No, but I have the feeling that I’ll be needing a new ship to accompany this fine new name.”

Still smiling, Rax gestured outside the bar. “There’s a couple ships in the cave for sale. Everything that comes through Jayne City is wiped and given a whole new ID number. Kind of like what just happened to you, but for a ship. I can get you set up, if you’d like.”

I grabbed a beer and raised it to him. “I’d appreciate that.”

After taking a few swigs, I asked “So, what about my ship? Is she just going to stay down here until I get back?”

Rax nodded. “Yeah. There’s plenty of room, and everyone knows you came here with me. No need to spraypaint ‘not for sale’ on her hull- she’ll be fine. Might want to see to securing the intake covers nice and tight, though. It would be a shame to get bugs and rat droppings in a ship like that.”

I took another swig, and asked, “About these ‘rats’. What the hell are they, anyway? ”

Rax and a few of the others suddenly got serious, and looked my way.

“You don’t really think that a mine big enough to be a starport hanger was shut down because it ran out of ore, do you? You saw for yourself when you got here, right? All that equipment left in place, all the supplies still here when we found it. This was a major investment for whatever outfit was running it, and they bugged out in a hurry. Same thing for the town. Nothing scavenged. Still has power, even, if you throw the switch. People don’t come here, lad. Not scavs, not the desperate, not anyone.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Just you?”

He smiled grimly. “Me, and these other unfortunate souls who have need of a sanctuary where no one will ever come knocking.”

I took a sip. “So, what are you saying?”

Rax looked me in the eye. “I’m saying that there are scarier things in the ‘verse than bad men with guns and ships. Even if Authority learned of this place tomorrow, they will never come after us down here. They would just circle like a pack of vultures, blasting us as we flew out of the shaft. They might even drop seismic charges down the shaft. But they would never send boots, and they wouldn’t waste drones. Not if a man among them was from around here.”

I looked him hard in the eyes.“You still ain’t answered my question, partner.”

He shook his head. “No, I didn’t lad. And I ain’t going to. Let’s just say that down here, even grown men check under their beds for monsters.”

Rax finished his drink, stood up, and clapped me on the back.

“Now let’s go outside and get you a ship!”

   **************************************************************

Rax and I strolled down the corridor towards the hangers. Some of them were little more than smoothed rock where ships were sitting out in the open, but others were fully enclosed structures with halfway decent facilities.

We took the stairs up to an overlook, like what one would see in a starport hanger. In it was a dingy office, with a portly, unshaven man watching a game of holoball.

It was one of the only sources of light, since very little could be seen out the windows in the cave area. Rax knocked on the already- open door.

The man looked up. “Evening, Rax.”

We both settled onto some well-worn couches.

Rax looked over to the man, who had settled back into watching his game.

“Feel like selling a ship today, Jerry?”

Jerry took a swig of beer. “Not right at this moment, no. This is the ’87 title game, where Achenar got creamed at the last minute. Come back tomorrow.”

Rax sighed. “It ain’t for me. It’s for my friend here.”

Jerry looked contemptuously at me.

Don’t bother me unless you know what you want. I ain’t got anything bigger than a Cobra.”

I had already thought it over.

“A Cobra would be just fine. How soon can I be in it?”

Jerry shrugged. “As soon as you can load a credit chip, kid. We don’t exactly deal with titles and registrations down here.”

Rax got up and started out of the office. “Don’t sell him a piece of shit, Jerry. We make a lot of money off this guy.”

Uh, thanks?

I turned to him. “Yeah, Jerry. Don’t sell him a piece of shit.”

He hit pause on the holovision. “Wise guy, huh? Great. Let’s pick out your steed.”

****************************************************************************

The selection of ships hundreds of feet below the surface in an abandoned mine was about as poor as you’d imagine, but the ships themselves were in pretty good shape. I guess it’s in your interest to ensure quality when one’s primary clientele are cut-throats and roughnecks.

Jerry was right, though- the transaction itself was pretty smooth.  I didn’t pay much more for my new Cobra than I would have at a starport, and it came with its own set of papers and registration. All I had to do to validate it was insert my “new” ID back in the office terminal, and the ship appeared just as legal as anything I had ever flown before. As I was filling out the registry info in the office’s terminal, I got to the ship’s name.



What do I name this Cobra?

The Redemption?

Too Boy-Scoutish.

The Hot Mama?

Too… ugh.

The Last Chance?

Yeah. Ok. Meaningful to desperate grifters and wannabe rescuers alike. I punched it in.

I packed a few of my things and transferred them to the Last Chance, but for the most part, left everything onboard the Hand of Blue. This seemed to please Rax’s and his men, who were waiting outside as I packed, rifles in hand, keeping watch for… the “rats”, I guess.

Once my final takeoff prep was done, I walked up to Rax, who was waiting with the others outside my  Cobra.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Rax” I said, shaking his hand.

That got an eye raise from Rax. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, lad. Between my cuts for the ID and the ship, drinking beer while waiting on you has never been more profitable.”

I smiled. “You’re a good, honest criminal, Rax. I’ll see you when this is all over.”

Rax grunted. “Take care, lad. The boys’ll look after that fancy ship of yours, you can count on that.”

I nodded, and with that, Rax and his posse turned and started towards the entrance. I climbed into the Last Chance and immediately hit the controls to retract the ramp door. No need to roll out the red carpet for whatever critters are running around down here, right?

After gently flying up through the main shaft, I hit the boosters and flew into the upper atmosphere of Eravate 5. The Cobra handled well enough, everything seemed to be running just fine… I had made a solid purchase. The holo-display readouts were the standard orange- I had become used to the Hand of Blue’s blood red setup- and it reminded me of my old Sidewinder.

I had been flying Goddamn Hell-Bitch that first time I had met Rax, hadn’t I? Jesus, what a sorry ship that had been.

I looked to my right, at the empty co-pilot’s seat.



Would Kyndi be sitting there right now if things were different?

Would Katie sit there at some point?

I flew to Cleve Hub. I knew that the Cobra was good to go, but I needed some time to go over the information that Viceroy Fink had so generously turned over. Plus, I needed to buy some supplies for the journey ahead.

I landed on Cleve and ordered some upgrades to the Cobra’s reactor and weapons. While this was happening, I popped in the data disk, and waited for it to load.

It took a little while. The Viceroy was a pompous asshole, but he had come through.

When it was done, searching for everything related to New Township was a snap. As fascinating as its history was, I only wanted to see the report by local Authority. Scroll, scroll, scroll, there. Ok, let’s see what we have:

<Durius Authority Incident Report #223-06-10-3301>
       
<0745 hours: Unidentified ships detected by long-range sensors>

<0815 hours: Vessels identified as Kumo Crew-affiliated raiding force. Authority contacted.>

<0835 hours: Known raiding force strength: 78 Cobra Mark III- class, 42 Viper Mk II, 24 Adder-class, 7 Asp-class, 1 Type-7 class, 4 Anaconda-class, 17 Federal Dropship-class

<0845 hours: Authority response protocol established, defensive formations over priority assets only>

<0930 hours: Surface contact reported, priority targets unengaged>


So Authority circled wagons around the important stuff, while everybody else was hung out to dry. Real classy of you, Fink.

I skimmed through the long list of orbital and surface location that got hit, until, I found-

<New Township >

<0950 hours: reports of unidentified vessels entering atmosphere over settlement #347, a.k.a., New Township and adjoining mining asset #347m, a.k.a., New Township Mine.>

<1015 hours: sensors detect 4 Federal Dropship-class vessels breaking orbit. One Anaconda class, identified as the Jackson’s Folly. Known Kumo Operative in command: Luther Benedict. Vessels spotted on outskirts of New Township. >

<1020 hours: rapid deployment of Kumo ground teams into New Township mine. 2 vessels deverted to New Township proper: 1 unidentified Federal Dropship, 1 Anaconda class (Jackson’s Folly).

<1030 hours: Ground forces from Jackson’s Folly and unidentified Federal Dropship entered New Township. Light property damage. Related files: Citizen theft reports (478). Citizen assault and battery reports: (718). Abduction reports: (1). >

There. That has to be it.

[color=#ff9933]<Abduction report detail: Katherine Tayor, age 6. Eyewitnesses report visual confirmation of victim playing in field where raiding force landed, abducted on-site. Forcibly taken into “big” ship. (presumed the Jackson’s Folly). Current whereabouts unknown.>

<1120 hours: Kumo Crew ships depart New Township area>

<1220 hours: Last Kumo vessel departs Durius space.>

<1245 hours: Authority dispatched to affected areas>

I had read enough. I had names, of both a man and a ship.

Luther Benedict.  The Jackson’s Folly.

Now, there was only one thing left to do: head to the Pegasi sector, and see if the Kumo Crew was hiring. I had a plan to get in with them, and it was a gamble- but it was the only thing I could think of.

***********************************************************************************


“Cobra vessel Last Chance. This is the Kumo Crew. Lower your shields and jettison your cargo.”

A week of planning and theft had led to this moment. After leaving Eravate, I didn’t head straight for the Pegasi sector. First, I needed to do some pirating of my own. For an entire day, I parked in an Alliance system that was on the way and raided returning pirates on the way out of resource extraction sites, scooping up their cargo if it was something valuable like gold. Pirates like gold, right? Only the best was going to do- I needed to make myself a juicy target for when I finally made it to Pegasi.

And now, here I was, in the Last Chance, cargo hold stuffed full of shiny gold, with a wing of four Kumo Crew Eagles circling me.

I had to play this just right.

“Roger that, boys, but I think I’ve got more than you can carry in those little Eagles.”

The Eagle in front of me fired a single warning shot that rippled against my canopy shields.

<Under attack>

“Don’t get an attitude with me, meat. Drop the cargo and piss off.”

I activated the cargo hatch and released eight canisters of gold.

“It’s all yours, fellas- but think of how much better it would be if you brought in all of it!”

Silence for a few seconds, and then- “Say again, commander?”

I tried to laugh.

“I’ve still got lots more where that came from, ace. Give me safe passage to your base, and it’s all yours. As a gift. The moment I land.”

Silence. For almost a full minute.

“Commander, you got a wake scanner on that rig?”

I smiled. “Reckon I do.”

“Follow our wake. Any funny business, we dust you, gold or no gold.”

Jesus Christ. Is this actually working?

“Roger that. See you on the other side.”

*******************************************************************




These guys have too much time on their hands, I thought.

I didn’t know how they had done it, but the Kumo Crew had managed to hollow out a small planetoid and turn it into a bona-fide space station.

And money. They had entirely too much money.

Maybe half a Cobra’s hold full of gold isn’t going to impress them so much, after all.

As I flew closer and closer to the monstrous structure, it became apparent just how huge it actually was. Easily as big as any full-size orbital station, it was swarming with activity- ships coming and going, surface activity all over, scaffolding in areas, adding on even more to the monstrosity in front of me.

And if this was only one of their bases… I felt a sinking feeling of pessimism in my gut. The haystack I was rummaging through for Katie had just grown a lot bigger.

One thing at a time. Just get landed. And then convince them not to blast you on the spot.

I flew into the cavernous main hanger, watching around the canopy as my tiny Cobra was swallowed by the behemoth of a planetary base. This was suddenly starting to feel like a really bad idea.

I landed on the pad that had been designated for me. Next, I hit the controls to descend into the hanger, and… there was already an armed squad of Kumos in the bay. And yeah, they were pointing those guns at me. In their midst was a figure in a flight suit. The guy I had followed here, perhaps?

Whoever he was, this was no time to stand on ceremony.

I punched the control to open the entry ramp. There was no backing out now. I walked down the ramp as confidently as I could, towards the dozen men and women with guns pointed right at me.

Let’s do this.
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