Endgame: Interlude
13 Jan 2018Isaiah Evanson
Seven VeilsDeep space, unknown system
“It’s one of those prefab jobs,” John Quantrill said, gesturing to the holofac display. The building schematics were uninspired, utilitarian in function and form. Quantrill placed his hands on his hips as he studied it. “Sorbo Construction two-story utility structure. Nothing fancy, just four walls, a couple of rooms, and whatever amenities the owners decide to install.”
Isaiah nodded his head, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as the first and second floors of the schematic exploded, showing their floor plans. There was nothing to suggest it was a makeshift prison, or that it was being used as a blacksite for.. troublesome types. One such building was tucked away in a meadow on the planet below, and was the current residence of one Phisto Sobanii.
Not for long.
“I had Jesse scrounge up some information on the guys behind this whole kidnapping, and they’re no joke. Lots of top-shelf gear. They won’t be easy to get through.”
“You have doubts about the Irregulars?” Isaiah turned to Quantrill, who shrugged his shoulders.
“They’re solid lads, they are. Their reputation during the Battle of Lugh is the stuff of legends, but they’re insurgents. They lack the training, the discipline that these guys do.”
“I don’t need them to fight their way into the facility,” Isaiah replied, pacing around the console, burning each corner, each corridor of the schematics into his mind. “I just need them to raise hell long enough for me to get in and get Phisto out.”
“You know they’ll have air support.”
“That’s never been a problem before.”
“They’re dirt-eaters, Isaiah. Soon as they see enemy aircraft, they’re gonna bug out. And frankly, once we’re skids-down at the edge of the treeline, we’re at risk. If they send anything bigger than an Eagle to respond to the attack, the Keelback’s gonna get fried.”
“How about you let me worry about that?” Isaiah snapped, glaring past the floor plans and into Quantrill’s eyes. “I’m doing all the heavy lifting here. All I need is a diversion, some explosions, and someplace to put Phisto while I deal with whatever’s sent our way.”
Quantrill shook his head in disbelief. “Why do you want to bust him out so badly?” The volume of his voice went up a notch. “He’s a murderer, a madman. Lowest of the low. Why are you so hell-bent on helping him?”
“Because he’s my friend.”
“I’ve got plenty of friends,” Quantrill said. “But I’m not sure I’d do something this brazen.”
“I don’t,” Isaiah deadpanned in reply. He flicked his wrist towards the holofac and banished the image. The lights of the cargo bay warmed, and Isaiah took several sure steps towards Quantrill. “Listen, I get it. This is a tall order, and a hard one.” Isaiah’s expression softened, though his tone of voice remained firm. “But Phisto is my friend. And I don’t leave my friends behind.”
Quantrill’s eyes narrowed, and seemingly without a second thought he blurted out, “What about the ones you’ve turned your backs on before?”
“Go on,” Isaiah said, hiding his anger. “Finish that thought.”
There was a flash of heat and anger that coursed through Isaiah’s chest, but subsided just as quickly as it had appeared. Were it anyone else, he would’ve put the man down with a well-placed shot to the gut. But he understood Quantrill’s concern.
Quantrill swallowed hard. “You burn a lot of bridges, you know. First the Federation, then the Empire for that Loren woman. Hell, I’ve had my fair share of worries about working with you. Worried you’ll sell me out like you did the other people around you.”
Isaiah’s mouth twisted, and he turned from Quantrill for a moment, collecting his thoughts.
“It’s not good for business if I’m having to convince my boys that your word is good. And things like this little jailbreak you want to do, it’s gonna make them ask even more questions.”
He inhaled deeply, letting Quantrill’s words hang in the air for a moment more.
“That’s all I’m saying, Isaiah,” Quantrill finished, trying not to sound condescending. “We know the money is good. We just don’t know where your intentions lie.”
Exhale.
Isaiah slipped an arm around Quantrill’s shoulders, pulling him in close so he could whisper into his ear.
“I’m gonna say this only once, and I hope this will be abundantly clear to you,” Isaiah said quietly, his tone flat and emotionless. “I do not ‘sell out’ my friends. There is no ‘betrayal’ in the sense that I just up and decide to stop playing ball with people.” His forearm tightened around Quantrill’s neck to emphasize his next point. “I follow my own path. So as long as people are walking in the same direction as me, I’m loyal to them.”
Quantrill’s breath caught in his throat as Isaiah continued. “So you need to ask yourself something — are you still on the same path with me? Do you want off? Because I won’t stop you if you do. We can go our separate ways and still be civil. But if you stand in my way?”
Isaiah brought his mouth close to Quantrill’s ear.
“I will fucking move you.”
Isaiah waited a moment, then clapped Quantrill on the back, releasing him from the headlock and striding off towards the cockpit of the Seven Veils.
“Think about it, get back to me,” Isaiah shouted as he departed. “But have your mind made up by 0900, because I’m going with or without you.”