Chasing a Shadow: Entry 2
20 Dec 2024Lukus Criitu
“DeLacy Bravo Echo Oscar, you are cleared for landing pad two three.” The flight controller for Ito Orbital announced in her no-nonsense, monotone voice.Brent throttled down and let his newly purchased docking computers take over. He still wasn’t confident in his ability to navigate those spinning mail slots, which is why he’d avoided orbitals until now. He gazed out the window at the earth-like world far below. It had taken longer than he’d expected to get from Zaonce to Rhea, especially when he’d discovered the need to upgrade his frame shift drive.
Once the loaned Sidewinder touched down on the landing pad, Brent flicked onto the station services view and sold off the four tons of crop harvesters he’d been carrying to pay for fuel and repairs. He couldn’t imagine ever making enough for a better ship this way. That done, he disembarked and made his way to the lifts.
The bright, pristine atmosphere of the concourse took Brent aback. After months of dingy outposts and planetary ports, the bustle of a wealthy orbital was a remarkable change. He slowly made his way up the right staircase, taking in the sights and sounds.
“Your system needs you, stand up and fight for it!” barked the uniformed officer behind the Frontline Solutions desk. Brent waved them off. He couldn’t imagine voluntarily going into battle. He’d surrendered his cargo twice to pirates just to avoid a fight he knew he’d lose. Who actually went looking for combat?
“Excuse me,” he asked a commander emerging from Vista Genomics. “My name’s Brent Edwards, do you have a moment?”
The commander shook her head and walked past. Brent repeated the request with a couple of commanders discussing mineral prices, with the same results. A commander coming out of Inter Astra stopped long enough to say “Never heard of you,” before moving on.
“Hey, you looking for work?” asked an older, scarred commander with a dangerous gleam in his eye. “You might have to bend the rules a little.”
“Ah, no, I’m good, but maybe you can help me. I’m looking for...”
The commander cut Brent off, shaking his head. “No time, kid, I’m on a deadline.” He turned to someone else walking by and repeated his pitch.
This seemed hopeless. The records had said that the last known contact with Lukus Criitu by the Alliance was at Ito Orbital, but that was some time ago. Then again, maybe he just needed to ask the staff who worked here, instead of the random crowd of commanders who were probably just stopping over on their way to their next destination.
Brent strolled into the dimly lit Pilot’s Lounge. He could barely pick out passing conversations over the gritty blues track overhead. Taking a seat at the bar, he caught the bartender’s eye. The gentleman came over. “What can I get you, commander?”
“I’m actually wondering if you have some information. I’m looking for someone who used to frequent this starport a couple years back.”
The bartender frowned. “I can’t help you there, kid, I’ve only been working here less than a year myself. Now, do you want something to drink or not?”
Brent sighed. “Yeah. Lavian Brandy, on the rocks.”
The bartender set the drink in front of him, and Brent sipped it slowly. He needed a new approach, or he’d be here for days, trying to find someone who knew his uncle. He pondered what the cranky commander outside of Inter Astra had said. Brent Edwards was a very ordinary name that no one would know. That gave him an idea.
Once he’d finished his drink and paid, Brent wandered over to Pioneer Supplies. “Excuse me, my name is Brent Criitu, I’m wondering if you can help me.”
A commander studying a selection of weapons on the wall stiffened. He whisked over and grabbed Brent’s arm, pulling him aside. The Pioneer Supplies employee seemed unperturbed by this, and directed his plastic smile towards the entrance again.
“What the devil do you think you’re doing?” hissed the commander. “Is that really your name?”
“Well, no, it’s actually Brent Edwards, but…”
The commander glanced over his shoulder. “What possessed you to use the name Criitu?”
“I’m trying to find my uncle. Do you know him?”
“Come with me.” Still holding Brent by the arm, the commander led him across the concourse to Vista Genomics, and through the staff-only door, with barely an acknowledgment by the scientist behind the counter. Another door led to a shadowy back room.
“Am I in trouble or something?” Brent wished this man would let go of his arm.
“Hopefully not. It depends on who heard you.” The commander released him. “My name is August Lagrange. Now, who is this uncle you’re looking for?”
“Lukus Criitu.”
“I thought so.” August sighed. “Look, kid, you’re darn lucky I was coming through here to wrap up some paperwork. That name – Criitu – can open some doors if said to the right people, but can lead to far more problems if said to the wrong person. Especially here. What led you to Rhea in the first place?”
Brent debated how much to tell this stranger. “I was told my uncle Lukus used to frequent this orbital. Is he in trouble with the Federation or something?”
“Not the Federation per se, but he made enemies here, like he does everywhere. Lukus is something of a colorful figure.”
“Colorful, as in...criminal?”
“Ehh.” August tilted his hand back and forth. “He’s good about keeping his nose clean for the most part. Let’s just say he operates outside of the sphere of authority for the most part. But his way of working does lend to him having both powerful friends and powerful enemies, including among the Federation. He’s always found that amusing.”
“Wait...do you actually KNOW him?”
August nodded. “I met him back when we were both flying with Federal Liberal Command. One day later, and you would have missed me for good. I’m onto new adventures now.”
Brent felt his heart racing in his chest. “Do you know where I can find him? He’s the only family I have left. My mother, his sister, died a few months ago, and she always insisted the reports of his death in the Navy were false.”
August chuckled. “The standard Criitu disappearing act. He’s famous for it. Look, I know a bunch of places where he’s been, but tracking him down is going to be a task. Your best bet is to check the Corbeau Tavern, but for the love of all that is good, learn to be discreet.”
“Corbeau Tavern? What’s that?”
“Lukus is affiliated with an organization called The Mercenary Union. It functions outside the sphere of any known power, and has a law all its own. Corbeau Tavern is their main meeting place. That’s the one place in the galaxy where the name Criitu is never going to get you in trouble, but there are plenty more opportunities to get yourself killed.”
Brent crossed his arms, suddenly feeling quite cold. “Mercenaries? As in, guns for hire?”
“Assassins, pirates, bounty hunters, soldiers of fortune, spies...just about every kind of black market service you can imagine.” He fingered a silver lapel pin of what looked like some sort of horned goblin. “And Lukus is right at the center of it. Practically runs the place.”
“Oh.” So this was what Senator Kaine had meant about his uncle’s existence being denied for good reasons. “So, are they the good guys, or...”
August shrugged. “In a sense. They have an emphasis on defending those that need them, but don’t mistake that for charity.” He tapped the device on his arm, bringing up a holographic map of the galaxy. “Corbeau Tavern is the bar aboard fleet carrier K4H-2XB, better known as the Fort de Rocher. It’s in Ross 209 right now, but you’d better add it to your bookmarks, because I don’t know when it’s going to move again.”
Brent brought up his own galactic map, located the fleet carrier in Ross 209, and marked it. “That’s a long way out, isn’t it?”
“Yes, and it’s smack in the middle of Kumo Crew territory, so don’t get any ideas about carrying cargo in unless you’re prepared to defend it. The Pirate King doesn’t mess around.”
Brent grimaced. “I’m in a loaned Sidewinder.”
“Still?” August snorted. “My word, you ARE green. Look, until you get a real ship, try to be discreet and stay out of trouble. I have half a mind to discourage you from going into Ross 209 altogether until you’re a bit more experienced, but I get the sense my warnings would fall on deaf ears.”
“I’m only wanting to find my uncle, so if you knew where else he frequented, I could check there.”
August shook his head. “Lukus keeps to himself. I mean, I’m fairly sure he’s associated with the Utopian movement out in the southern edge, but he never stays in one place for long. Utopia is a huge place to search for him, whereas he always shows up in Corbeau Tavern before long.”
Brent powered down his galaxy map. “I appreciate the help, Commander Lagrange. I’ll try to follow your advice not to bring up my uncle to random people, and I’ll be careful around Corbeau Tavern.”
“See that you are.” August patted Brent’s shoulder. “Fly safely.”