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A bearded man of indistinct age appeared on the main screen moments after Decker had established a secure commlink to the freighters.
“Steiger,” he said nodding at the mercenary and her companion, “Kidder.”
“Verrill. You had success?”
“Of course. I see you brought some muscle along with your part of the ordnance.”
“May I present Captain Pasek and her partner Ser Whate? Their ship, Phoenix, is an armed yacht with impressive firepower. I’ve witnessed them destroy two reiver needle ships shortly after lifting from Rakka. They’ve agreed to provide us with an armed escort us to our destination on top of carrying what I bought.”
“Really?” Verrill stroked his chin while he examined Talyn and Decker through narrowed eyes. “How interestingly convenient. You’re satisfied that we can trust them?”
“Tran has some history with Ser Whate and vouches for him unconditionally. Apparently, on top of turning reivers into dust, he’s also something of a wizard at training troops and beating the crap out of anyone who desperately needs it.”
“Even more interesting, isn’t it, that they’d stumble across us at a time when we desperately need military experts.” The doubt and mistrust in Verrill’s face were plain for all to see. “I assume that by now you know who we are and what we’re about, Captain Pasek, Ser Whate?”
“We do.” Talyn nodded.
“And?”
“And what? Are we uncomfortable with transporting weapons for a rebel movement? Are we uncomfortable providing an armed escort for your clapped-out freighters and firing at anyone other than the Navy if need be? The answer to both is no. We’re for hire, and provided you don’t ask us to do something that’ll put us on the Fleet’s shit list, we’ll deliver.”
“I’m sure Miko dangled enough money in front of your eyes to take care of any scruples you might have had.”
“She has,” Talyn confirmed.
“That being said,” he continued, “I’m more concerned about who else you talk to or work for. As you can probably figure out for yourselves, there are a few governments who’d dearly like to end our movement before we have a chance to shake off Celeste’s yoke.”
Decker shrugged.
“We talk to ourselves and our clients, meaning you fine people right now; no one else. If we don’t cross the line, the Constabulary and the Navy leave us alone. The opinions of the various colonial administrations out on the Rim don’t matter much. Half of them are corrupt, and the rest close an eye when we’re around on the general principle that we could be useful in a pinch.”
“Funny that we’ve never heard of you before,” Verrill replied, unconvinced.
“Being too well known doesn’t attract business. Our usual clients like things to stay nice and quiet, before, during and after a contract.”
“Fair enough. I know you folks hold an ace in the form of your ship and the cargo it carries for us, which puts me in the position of having to graciously accept responsibility for the contract negotiated by Miko, whether I’m happy with it or not.”
“As she mentioned, I can vouch for them,” Tran said. “Bill Whate came out of the Coalsack with me after he saved our collective bacon on Garada. Two hundred people, me included, owe him our lives, first because he taught us how to fight and then because he led us out of the worst military disaster to befall our erstwhile employer.”
“What about Captain Pasek?” Verrill asked. “You know her from your past adventures as well?”
“No, but Ser Whate trusts her unconditionally, and that’s good enough for me.”
“I see I’ll have to swallow my reservations about this arrangement.” Verrill nodded politely at Talyn and Decker. “All that remains for me to say at this point is welcome to our little ragtag band of freedom fighters.”
“Sera Steiger mentioned a third freighter,” Talyn said. “Are you expecting it soon?”
The rebel leader gave a half shrug.
“We set a timeframe, not an exact time for the rendezvous. Once that period expires, whoever made it here heads home. Coordinating three missions isn’t exactly easy when you don’t have access to the Navy’s subspace array. It’s a miracle that you made it not long after our arrival, considering Tran had to look far and wide for extra transport. Few captains are willing to get involved with a colonial liberation movement, and many of those who do would sell us out at the drop of a cred.”
“Hence your reservations.”
“I believe that if it seems too good to be true, it is, Captain Pasek. You two seem too good to be true, but I have to remind myself that sometimes the stars do align, and we get a shot of good luck.”
“Let me rephrase my question, then. How long do you expect to remain in this area if your third companion doesn’t show up?”
“We’ve given ourselves a window of seven standard days.”
“This deep in interstellar space and with reasonable emissions control, we should be reasonably safe from accidental discovery,” Decker remarked.
“Glad that our arrangements meet with your approval, Ser Whate,” Verrill replied.
Zack seemed unfazed by the man’s cutting edge.
“If you’re buying my services as an advisor, I’ll advise. If you want me to shut up, just say the word.”
“He generally stops speaking if you ask,” Talyn chimed in, “though I find the best way is to stick a bottle of Shrehari ale in his hand.”
Verrill’s eyebrows shot up.
“Expensive tastes. Are you carrying any?”
“Why?” Zack’s mouth curved into a broad smile. “Don’t tell me you’re an aficionado?”
“I’ve been known to take a nip when I can,” he replied, a measure of ease loosening his tense features. “Perhaps you might be kind enough to invite me for a meal. Getting to know one’s new allies around a good drink is rarely a bad idea.”
“Consider yourself invited, Ser Verrill, now in fact, while we’re waiting for your third ship.”
**
The man who stepped out of the personnel pod seemed to match Zack in height if not quite in width. Though appearing older and more tired in person, he nonetheless exuded confidence with every spare gesture.
Decker stuck out his hand.
“Welcome aboard, Ser Verrill.”
“Pleasure, and it’s just plain Verrill. Ser Verrill is my father, as the joke goes.”
The two men tested each other’s grip for a moment, recognizing quickly that they were almost evenly matched.
“You said something about Shrehari Ale, Ser Whate.”
“The name’s actually Zack Decker – you can call me Zack. Bill Whate is what I go by publicly, but that’s just between us. There are a lot of nasty people out there who want me dead, hence the cover identity.”
“Aren’t you afraid that I’ll let it slip?” He asked, following Decker to the saloon.
“If you do, I’ll just switch names and get a new face. Right now, we need to trust each other over more than the delight of a T’klach vintage.”
“T’klach vintage?” Verrill whistled softly. “Nice. I may begin to like you, Zack Decker aka Bill Whate. You were a janissary with Tran Kidder?”
“I was his commanding officer in the Kashdushiya, the slave-soldier regiment.”
“Interesting. Any regular military experience?”
“Twenty years in the Corps.”
They reached the saloon door, and Zack stepped aside to let his guest enter first.
“Verrill, I’d like you to meet my captain and partner, Pru Pasek.” He gestured towards Talyn, who’d risen from the bench, holding out her hand.
“Pleasure, Captain.”
He tested her briefly and smiled when she winked at him. Turning to the other two he nodded.
“Miko, Tran. Well done. This looks like a hell of a good find. Zack gave me a tiny thumbnail sketch of his bona fides and based on that, I think we can actually use him.”
“Did he tell you he used to be a Marine Pathfinder in a previous life?” Kidder asked.
“No, but somehow I’m not surprised after the stories you told me of your time in the Trans-Coalsack. Now,” he rubbed his hands together, “I was lured here with the promise of fine alien hooch.”
“And I always keep my promises,” Zack held out a cold bottle. Verrill took it with near-reverence and scanned the label.
“You weren’t kidding.”
“I never joke when it comes to the good stuff.” He passed out more of the potent brew then took one for himself, twisting off the stopper in a natural motion. “Mud in your eye, freedom fighters.”
“Skoal.” Verrill took a long sip, his face brightening with sheer delight at the taste. “You are a man of refinement and principles, Zack Decker aka Bill Whate.”
“Live in close quarters with Zack for a while before complimenting him. His idea of elegance is not walking around the bridge in his birthday suit,” Talyn said, smirking.
“Sure,” Decker nodded, smiling pleasantly, “and if you don’t like my principles, I can find others to suit.”
Verrill chuckled.
“I’ll take that under advisement.”
“Sit.” Zack pointed at the bench. “We’re at least refined enough not to eat standing up.”
“Glad to hear it.” Verrill slid in beside Steiger. He gave her a quizzical glance, and she nodded.
“Tell me, Zack, if I run your real name through the net, what’s going to come up?” He asked.
“Not much,” Decker replied, busy at the autochef. “Service dates, my retirement a few years ago, membership in the merchant guild, that sort of stuff. Although,” he turned his head to glance at Verrill with a crooked grin, “if you check the dark corners of the net, you might find that there’s still a price on my head.”
“And you, Captain Pasek?”
Talyn laughed.
“You’ll find a lot less. I’ve haven’t had a colorful life like my partner, thankfully. I’m not sure I’d survive what he’s been through.”
“So why is a retired Marine skirting the outer edge of the law.”
“A man’s got to make a living somehow, and this does just fine. I know what’ll get the Fleet’s attention, which means we can calibrate our contracts to stay out of sight.” Decker distributed meal trays and then sat down in front of his own serving. “It’s a good life if you have no anchors.”
“Have you ever had dealings with the Avalon Corporation?” Verrill took a bit of his chicken and chewed thoughtfully, waiting for a reply.
“Here and there,” Decker replied, noncommittally. “The grunts aren’t bad, as corporate mercs go. The higher-ups in their shiny executive offices? Politically connected scum.”
“Avalon’s been contracted by Celeste to provide a naval blockade around Garonne and the government might even hire ground troops in the not too distant future.”
Zack shrugged, cutting another slice off his meat.
“I said they weren’t bad, and I meant that in the sense of respecting the Rules of War. As fighters, well, they’re mercs and don’t have the incentive to die for a cause. You folks, if you truly believe in Garonne independence, do. Advantage: freedom fighters.”
“Pretty cynical view, isn’t it?”
“Realistic.”
Decker popped a chunk into his mouth and chewed slowly, meeting Verrill’s eyes without embarrassment.
“See,” he said after swallowing, “the Celeste government can’t deploy its National Guard to Garonne, at least not as formed units and definitely no spacecraft. The laws laid down after the massacres of the Second Migration War pretty much bars any transport of planetary troops without Fleet authorization and no Grand Admiral is going to sign off on that. So if the colonial militia can’t handle things, they hire mercs.”
“I’ve taken the usual political science pap at university,” Verrill replied. “What’s your point?”
“You can kick Avalon Corporation ass from here to the galactic core, and all you’ll get from Fleet HQ is a big fat yawn. So your governor hired Avalon. So what? Wallop 'em enough and they’ll raise their rates until they break the bank. Then they walk away.”
“And we’re still sounding pretty cynical.”
“Take it from me,” Zack replied around a mouthful of steamed vegetables, “I’ve seen this story before. If you’re ready to die, the mercs don’t stand much of a chance. They didn’t sign up to meet their maker. The Corps? That’s another story. Once they land, you can kiss your rebellious butt goodbye. The trick is to become the colonial government that welcomes the dropships instead of remaining nasty rebel scum. You can do that, you’re golden. Just make sure you don’t execute the previous administration without a fair trial. These days, the Fleet never overturns the will of the people, even if it came out of the barrel of a gun. Hispaniola cured it of any nation-building delusions it might have had.”
“I gather you were there?” Verrill sounded interested.
“Yep.” Decker pushed his empty tray aside and sat back. “Damn near was the death of me. My buddy and I ended up in a mob show and no live ammo. I still have nightmares about it. Biggest body count the Corps saw since the last Shrehari war so it’s not about to repeat the experience.”
“Cogent thinking for a former command sergeant.”
“Dummies don’t get to wear the crossed swords on their stripes. Besides, the Corps runs on its command non-coms. Now about your real question concerning the Avalon rent-a-spacers: we have no problems putting them at the wrong end of our guns. They’ll try to return the favor. Good luck to them.”
“You’re a very confident man.”
Decker’s mouth twitched.
“It’s a curse, but so far, so good. Another one?”
“Are Shrehari ugly?” The rebel leader smiled when Zack reached over to the cooler and pulled out a few more bottles. “There’s none to be had where we’re going and what comforts we do get are pretty miserable. The militia might not be much on catching us, but they sure can make life hard for colonists who help out with supplies.”
“Have they done anything that crossed into war crimes territory yet?”
“None that would hold up in court, but how many settlements can you ruin before it stops being collateral damage and becomes a deliberate scorched earth policy?”
An evil grin twisted the Marine’s lips.
“I’ve seen that story before too. Perhaps the Garonne militia needs to experience some real pain.”
He ignored Talyn’s warning glance, knowing full well that she would be against any involvement unless it got them closer to finding the rebellion’s financial backers.
“And you’re the man to do it?” There was gentle mockery in Verrill’s tone.
“I’ll need a little bit of help from your fine young rebels.”
This time, Verrill laughed out loud at Decker’s disingenuous tone.
“I’m beginning to like you, Zack, and I’d be really chagrined to find out you’re not what you pretend to be.”
“He’s not pretending,” Talyn said. “My boy here has a ruthless streak when he puts his mind to it.”
“And you, Captain?”
“When we’re in space, he’s the first mate. On the ground, I’m his winger. Whatever needs to be done, I’ve got his back.”
“A wonderful non-answer,” Verrill replied, “but I’ll let it stand for now. Do you have any military background that might be useful?”
“Not even a whiff.”
“Meaning you have a military background and none of it is useful to us or you’ve never been in uniform?”
“Does it matter which one it is? I sail this ship where it needs to go. When we get there, I let the big guy run the show.”
“Another wonderful non-answer, Captain.” This time, Verrill’s tone was openly sarcastic. “Fair enough. Your ship, your rules.”
“And what’s your story, to coin a phrase?” Decker asked. “Verrill the rebel and all that?”
“It’s a long and complicated story, to coin another phrase,” he replied.
“I figure two bottles of my finest vintage pays for a long and complicated story, not a wonderful non-answer.”
This time, Verrill’s laugh sounded genuine. It reached his eyes and highlighted every wrinkle in his tired face.
“You know about the situation on Garonne?”
“Sure. Class one colony, bootstrapped its way to self-sufficiency, but it can’t even get class two status, let alone class three independence, because Celeste, with help from its pals in the Senate, wants to keep a place where it can dump undesirables and appoint useless drones to profitable government sinecures.”
“Succinct, to the point, and sadly true.” Verrill sighed. “Though it’s worse than you can imagine.”
“Try me. I’ve been through a few colonial disturbances in my day, and they all suck in their own way. The ones with off-world political interference almost always have the most suckage.”
“Our most excellent colonial administration has been hiring deportees into the militia, pushing out those who came from the original settler families. They’ve been promised free land and even tickets home to Celeste if they serve to the governor’s satisfaction. Some of the deportees are politicals, and they’re either on our side or keeping their heads down. Most, though, are criminals. How’s that for being worse?”
Decker nodded.
“Sounds incredibly shitty. Let me guess. They have no problems burning down the homestead of an independence supporter and then claiming they were fired on while running a peaceful patrol in the countryside.”
“Got it in one, with homesteaders often dying in the process. The properties then get handed over to government supporters.”
“Why has evidence of this not been brought to the Senate?”
“We tried. Our envoys vanished and are presumed dead by now.” Anger flashed across Verrill’s eyes. “My eldest son was among them.”
“And your cities, or make that your one major city is under the control of the militia, at least those parts not under direct control of deportee gangs, and independence supporters either flee, keep quiet or die.”
“I guess you have seen it before.” Verrill sighed. “Some days I don’t know how we’ll ever get out of this nightmare short of the Fleet risking direct intervention.”
Talyn caught Decker’s eye again, to remind him that he was not to play knight-errant. He ignored her.
“There are always ways, my friend.” A slow, predatory smile spread across his broad face. “We...”
The AI suddenly chirped with alarming insistence.
“That would be the proximity warning. A ship dropped out of FTL within our security sphere,” Zack said, rising to leave the saloon. “I hope it’s your third freighter. If not, we might have a problem.”
“May I join you?” Verrill asked.
“You can all come if you like. Just be ready to vacate the bridge the moment we say so. There’s not much room, and if we have to fight, passengers get in the way.”
When the others caught up with him, Decker was already at the gunnery console, scrolling through the sensor log.
“It’s a freighter alright, looks like the other two, but it’s pushing out an encrypted signal like crazy.”
Verrill stepped closer and peered over the Marine’s shoulder.
“That’s our code. Can you open a link to Marilan?”
Moments later, a somber female face materialized on the main screen. She spoke before Verrill could open his mouth.
“It’s Roste aboard Clio. He has some nasties on his tail. We need to get away quickly before they drop out of FTL and come at us.”
