Lochlain left Hat Trick via the back exit. On his way to the shuttle, he searched the city directory on his datapad for Warner Bookings and linked to its commercial page. “Book Your Future,” it promised in a large banner at the top. He studied the advertisement while approaching his shuttle and swept the datapad at the hatch to enter. Once seated inside, he tapped the “Contact” bar at the page’s footer.
“Warner Bookings,” a deep voice intoned.
“Kurtis Hanner, please,” Lochlain responded with an air of formality.
“Who’s calling?”
Lochlain paused. He hated the idea of giving his name to a criminal ring he knew nothing about. However, lying to the man responsible for squibbing his ship seemed unwise. “Reece Lochlain.”
The answer came immediately. “We have nobody who works here with that name, Mr. Lochlain.”
“Cindi Isett recommended Mr. Hanner to me,” he maintained. “I have need of his services.”
Silence extended between the callers. Finally, the baritone instructed, “Hold, Mr. Lochlain.” Without waiting for an answer, the connection clicked and a different gentleman’s voice greeted him.
“Warner Bookings.”
“Mr. Hanner?” Lochlain guessed.
“No, this is Mr. Hanner’s assistant. How can I help you?”
“I need Mr. Hanner’s special talents regarding my cargo ship,” Lochlain answered vaguely. He knew better than to speak plainly over an open connection.
The assistant’s voice turned indignant. “Mr. Lochlain, Warner Bookings is a travel agency. I have no idea how you think Mr. Hanner can help you with your ship but whatever you’ve been told, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“It needs to be top rate, able to stand up to a boarding inspection,” Lochlain pressed through the objections. “It can’t just be a scratch and sniff job.”
The assistant sighed. “Please hold.”
Lochlain drummed his fingers fitfully. After several minutes, the man returned.
“Mr. Lochlain, I’m willing to meet you on Mr. Hanner’s behalf not because he can help you but because he wants to know who is spreading lies that discredit him. Can you come to our office in an hour?”
“The address on your page?” Lochlain asked. After he received an affirming grunt, he said, “See you in an hour, Mister…”
“Bay. You can ask for Mr. Bay.” The connection closed without a proper parting.
Lochlain transferred the address to his shuttle’s navigation system. The trip would take less than five minutes by air. The walk from the closest parking hangar would actually take longer than the flight. With time to kill, he eased back into his chair and reviewed his finances. The squib could approach six figures and he would almost certainly have to provide a sizeable deposit up front. Isett’s thirty-five thousand had been a boon but he needed to walk into Warner Bookings with at least fifty. He opened the Ancera trade pages and searched for cargo consignments destined for Vulsia.
Consignments were decidedly some of the worst hauling options for a freighter captain. Lochlain would be simply transporting cargo, goods that he neither owned nor profit-shared. The only revenue generated would be his shipping fee. In regions with reasonable competition, shipping fees alone would not permit a freighter captain to break even on a run. The single advantage of consignments was that they offered a way to fill up unused space on a cargo ship.
Profitable cargo ships never relied solely on simple consignments for their incomes. Instead, they either entered into long-term contracts with companies to haul goods continuously on a standard route or engaged in the classically dangerous financial game of buying low to sell high at a future stop. Lochlain had nowhere near the reputation needed to acquire a lucrative standard contract and certainly did not possess the vast sums of credits required to buy his own cargo to sell later. Even if he had such wealth, he would be reluctant to stake the kind of credits necessary, knowing that an error in judgment or unforeseen events at his destination could decimate his cargo’s worth and cause fiscal calamity. Independent freighter captains who ran such games were only one or two misfortunes from bankruptcy. Lochlain knew these reasons were why such captains were a dying breed, being squeezed out by mega-corps that could mitigate risk across a large fleet. It was a self-defeating cycle. Privately owned freighters were being forced out because the best contracts were going to corporate lines that in turn forced out even more private owners.
Consignments being his only immediate option, Lochlain spent thirty minutes committing to hauling two FUES bulk containers filled with unprocessed ore from an asteroid extraction outfit and three TUES tanks filled with a dangerously corrosive element from a planetside company called Lordan Chemical. The five containers would almost fill half of Zanshin’s cargo hardpoints, leaving her room for five more standard containers once Isett’s load was secured. Lochlain loathed leaving Ancera only half-loaded but there were simply no other consignments that fit his destination and timetable.
He would pick up Isett’s container on his way back to Zanshin tonight. The remaining containers were already in space, attached to the commercial orbital’s cargo yard. The transportation fees received by accepting the new jobs amounted to an additional thirty-five thousand credits up front, with another thirty-five thousand payable upon delivery in Vulsia. Lochlain agreed to assume broader risks of transport to generate another thousand credits per container. His credits on hand now totaled seventy-five thousand, more than enough for a deposit with Hanner. Between Brooke’s personal funds and his own, they would be able to cover the remaining balance payable after Zanshin’s rebirth. Paying his crew would likely have to wait until after making deliveries in Vulsia.
Freighter deck officers typically received a double share of the run’s overall profits. Engineering officers received the same. Lochlain hoped that he could negotiate the first cargo runs down to a single share if the crew Isett offered was truly subpar. The savings would go a long way toward keeping up with the normal costs of running a cargo ship. Furthermore, Zanshin would be two dives closer to needing her fuel cells recharged, an extraordinary expense. He had no idea where he would get the money to pay for it. The looming bill made him feel as if he were standing in the path of an onrushing prison transport. Shaking away the dread, Lochlain ignited the shuttle’s atmospheric drive and lifted off toward Warner Bookings.
* * *
He entered the humble storefront twenty minutes later. He was early but he assumed it was better to wait on Hanner than have Hanner waiting on him. The shop, jammed between a secondhand electronics store and a food takeout, was a tiny affair containing just a single desk, a shoddy couch and a couple of chairs for customers. Dated digital posters of Federation vacation hotspots adorned the faded walls. It felt like any other run down, failing business except for the fact that this travel agency was open late at night.
He placed his datapad into sleep mode as he nodded to the receptionist. The man behind the desk acknowledged Lochlain’s nod and asked in a familiar baritone, “May I help you?”
Lochlain smiled amicably. “I’m Reece Lochlain, here to see Mr. Bay.”
The man’s hands dipped below the surface of his desk. Lochlain wondered if a firearm kept company with the security buzzer the man had obviously activated there.
“Please be seated,” the receptionist said while jutting his chin at a chair.
Ten minutes later, a gentleman with light blonde hair appeared from the back. He was rail thin but wore a fine suit. Lochlain recognized the brand as a Vomi-Straers design. They were produced in Kett and were not cheap. The elegant glasses sitting on the bridge of the man’s nose matched the quality of his clothing. The wisp of a man remained near the door and beckoned, “Mr. Lochlain, will you follow me, please?”
The route took Lochlain down a narrow hallway with two security cameras prominently positioned at either end. The setup was a classic chokepoint that put Lochlain on edge. He felt gooseflesh break out over his arms as he recalled Isett’s caution regarding Hanner. The fact that the warning had come from a woman who had, early in her career, fearlessly trafficked Solarian-made weapons into the Brevic Republic star system of Sao did nothing to ease his trepidation.
The pair arrived at the end of the hallway and Bay opened the door. Rather than entering an office, Lochlain found himself walking down a second, much shorter corridor. The new passageway dispelled any pretense of a legitimate business. He passed through a state-of-the-art security arch under the watchful eyes of two sentries. Each man wore a hard ballistics shell over a black jumpsuit. Small, automatic weapons dangled from their chest harnesses. Once Lochlain cleared security, he walked with Bay until coming to the office of Kurtis Hanner. A gentle knock preceded their admittance.
Inside the extravagant office were two additional security guards and Kurtis Hanner himself. Hanner was short, far shorter than any man Lochlain had seen before. He sat on a lavish, custom-built chair behind a desk so enormous Lochlain could have easily lain down on it with ample room to spare. The two guards stood behind Hanner, both at ease yet ready. “Relaxed awareness” came to Lochlain’s mind.
Bay ushered Lochlain to a fine couch and sat with him as he opened the proceedings. “You’ve stated that you need Mr. Hanner’s unique services. Exactly what do you require?”
Lochlain smiled slightly, well aware of the invitation to break the law first.
“I need my freighter squibbed,” he stated loudly and bluntly for whatever recording devices Hanner had running. “It has to be a first rate job, that’s why I’ve come here.” A little flattery never hurt.
Hanner spoke in a surprisingly high-pitched voice that made Lochlain’s skin crawl. “What you are asking for is against Federation law, Mr. Lochlain. Are you aware of that?”
“Of course it’s illegal. I want my freighter’s identity changed. I need something that will stand up to inspections for years to come.”
Hanner and Bay exchanged glances. Finally, Bay pronounced, “We can help you, Mr. Lochlain.” He adjusted his spectacles. “When would you require our services?”
“Any time after 12:00 local time, tomorrow.” Lochlain needed the students off Zanshin before Hanner’s team arrived, not only for their protection but also his own. “It has to be completed by the day after.”
“Given your personal situation,” Hanner interjected with a knowing smile, “I’m not surprised.” The unsettling expression revealed uneven rows of teeth spaced between numerous gaps. Lochlain felt himself flush at the dwarf’s comment.
Hanner continued to stare at Lochlain but it was Bay that explained, “We perform our due diligence on prospective customers, Mr. Lochlain. It is only out of professional courtesy to Miss Isett that we’ve allowed this meeting given your reputation.”
Lochlain wanted to defend his honor but swallowed his words and shrugged humbly. “Can you meet the time requirement?”
Bay nodded. “We’ll need space in your hangar for a Class-F shuttle. Not only will it transport our technicians but it also stores our equipment and servers. Which compartment is closest to the hangar, your bridge or Engineering?”
“Engineering.”
“How many meters between it and the hangar?”
Lochlain looked upward as he thought. “Twenty… Thirtyish? Maybe less.”
“That’s fine. We run cable directly from the servers on our shuttle to your computer banks,” Bay explained. “There can be some obstacles if the distance is too great.”
“When can you arrive?”
“It depends,” the thin man answered with a skeleton’s grin. “When can you pay?”
“How much?”
No looks passed between the two dealers this time. “One hundred thousand credits. Seventy up front, the final thirty after we’ve completed the reregistration to your satisfaction.”
“That’s… expensive,” Lochlain objected lightly.
“But you will pay it, Mr. Lochlain,” Hanner stated confidently. “You are either now working for Appiation CBP, in which case you are out of your jurisdiction and have given me a textbook case for entrapment, or you are running from Appiation and can count your remaining days of freedom with a single hand.” The tiny man sniggered manically. “The problem with desperation isn’t so much the stench but that it leaves you with very few options.” He gestured casually to Bay. “Mr. Bay will now flash you payment information and you will immediately deposit seventy thousand credits into that account.”
The balance transfer took less than a minute. As Lochlain disbursed the funds, he noticed that Isett had flashed him three times in the last fifteen minutes. After payment, Bay confirmed Lochlain’s berthing and freighter information before rising from his chair and guiding Lochlain from the office. As the pair headed for the front, Bay instructed, “We will arrive tomorrow at 13:00, Mr. Lochlain. The entire process should take fewer than three hours. We prefer to see minimal crew while we work but we require your presence and your chief engineer’s.” Bay escorted his customer all the way to the door and bid him goodnight.