The Daedalus Job (Outlaws of Aquilia Book 1)

by M. D. Cooper

  I couldn’t help but clear my throat nervously. “Is this the extent of our plan? Normally, I like a little more…you know…planning with our plan.”

  Jacy grinned as she rose and stretched. “Don’t worry, when we get to Delphi, we’ll re-assess the situation. In the meantime, we’ll practice simulated breaches on the other courier ship—it’ll give us something to do.”

  “What’s the ship’s name?” Cynthia asked.

  Jacy flicked a hand toward the holo, and a boxy freighter appeared. “It’s this tub here. Named the Kerrigan.”

  III

  Delphi

  THE DARK LAYER

  Aboard the Kerrigan…

  “I hate the DL,” I muttered while staring at the ‘window’ display in the Kerrigan’s galley.

  “So flip it to something else,” Kallie said around a mouthful of chili. “There’s nothing out there, anyway. Why are you looking?”

  “Umm…” I gave a nervous laugh. “I just feel like if no one’s looking, something might sneak up on us.”

  The engineer rolled her eyes in the special way she reserved only for me. “The only thing out there is dark matter. And it doesn’t sneak. Not even a little bit. If you encounter any, then it’s too late.”

  Lifting my coffee mug to my mouth, I finished the now-cold liquid. “Just makes me feel better to have an eye on it.”

  “But you also hate it…and you feel the need to constantly tell me that…. So I wish you’d learn to look at something else.”

  “I think I’d be able to if we weren’t so close to occlusion.”

  “ANSWON provided an update right before we jumped. The passage is clear.”

  “Sure.” I rose from the table and ambled to the counter where the coffee machine sat, one more cup’s worth in the pot. “Still, this one’s a doozy. I half-want to pop out of the DL and see if we can pull an update.”

  “Say the word,” Kallie replied. “We can dump out for a bit, no problem.”

  “We’ll lose time,” I countered.

  The engineer groaned. “Jax. I’m trying to help you with your issue here. I don’t give a crap either way. In or out, I just want you to stop staring into the black and twitching like there’s a bad graviton emitter in the deck plates under your feet.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh as I refilled my cup. “That’d be a sight. I kinda want to do that to Oln. He always sits at the foot of the table, we could mess with him so much.”

  “Or see how long it took him to lose his shit and flip the table.”

  “Valid concern.”

  “Captain.” Kallie’s expression grew serious. “This isn’t your general paranoia surrounding the dark layer. What’s really on your mind?”

  The coffee cup felt comfortably warm in my hands. It was ceramic, not plas, one of the few comforts I afforded myself. Feeling the heat of the drink was an important part of the ritual to me. It also helped ground me as I considered Kallie’s question.

  What is bothering me so much?

  I hadn’t reflected on my general attitude enough to realize my current anxiety was outside my normal range—and I certainly wasn’t surprised to see that Kallie had noticed.

  “The meet with Korinth, I guess. I can’t think of any reason it would go sideways, but a simple handoff with Skip shouldn’t have culminated with us blowing up a fuckin’ starship, either.”

  Kallie nodded. “I agree on that point. I suppose some level of trepidation is to be expected. But Skip and his wacko brother are one thing. Korinth is another entirely. He doesn’t screw around, he does his business, and that’s it.”

  “Sure.” I took a sip from my mug. “But too often, business can involve maximizing profits in an unpleasant way. I’d rather not learn the hard way that we’re no longer of any use to him.”

  The engineer nodded sagely. “OK…given how things have gone lately, maybe we need some insurance. Some way to make sure that he doesn’t ice us after we make the delivery.”

  “I think that’s wise. Unfortunately, the only thing we have to give Korinth that he’ll consider to be of any value is the cores.”

  Kallie nodded. “I wonder, could we not bring them to the meet?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “He’ll just think we failed to pick them up. We need to bring them…but maybe….”

  “Maybe what?”

  I downed the rest of my coffee and set the cup down on the counter. “Looks like I’m going to get to check the ANSWON updates after all. Get ready to dump out of the DL for a bit.”

  ONE LAST HUNT

  Aboard the Victorious Strike…

  It was vanity, I knew it, but I’d long since given up caring if others thought so.

  Holomirror activated, I looked over my presentation, checking every aspect of my outfit to ensure that it was perfect. While regulation only required that I wore a DSA shipsuit—a blue and white skintight sheath that covered the body from neck to toe, and was fire, impact, and vacuum resistant—I felt that, as commander of a starcruiser, I should cut a more impressive figure.

  Not that my body in a sheath that showed off every curve was unimpressive. Genetics, money, and rigorous care had granted me a figure that turned every head, even though I was pushing into my ninth decade.

  But any young woman with good chromosomes could turn heads in a shipsuit. I preferred to add some mystery, do something out of the norm.

  While it wasn’t strictly by the book, I liked to add the dark blue jacket from my rank’s formal uniform, tightly belted to accent my waist and hips. Polished boots rose to my knees, the low heels hiding a-grav generators that gave me added stability in a fight, or doubled as maglocks should artificial gravity fail.

  Few ship commanders wore weapons; in fact, it was policy for crew to be unarmed when not in combat, but that was not a policy I followed.

  A pulse pistol was always strapped to my thigh when aboard the Victorious Strike, a reminder to my crew that I was in command and that I had earned my position through strength of arms.

  Satisfied that I was presentable from the neck down, I checked my face, tracing a short, but well-manicured nail down my cheek, noting a new crease that I’d have to deal with the next time I was in port. Otherwise my complexion was perfect, accented by the slightest shadow around my eyes, and a darkening of my brows to ensure that even my resting visage was a stern one.

  I knew what my crew called me behind my back—‘the Brooding Queen’—and I liked it. Sometimes they called me ‘the Pirate Princess’, which I was less fond of, but I had to admit that a pirate would sell their hull-plating to cut the figure I did.

  My shoulder-length hair glowed softly, the iridescent strands brushing my shoulders as I turned my head side to side.

  “Perfect.” I smiled at how my lips twisted as I spoke, one side lifting first, even a compliment coming with a sneer. It made my crew uncertain of what I thought, and made the captains of the freighters I inspected fall all over themselves, desperate to please me.

  I set the small cap on my head, ensuring it sat off to the side and that my hair fell straight from beneath it as I gave one final look at the holomirror, widening my stance and standing hands on hips, practicing the look that would ensure I got my way in any situation.

  With a final nod, I turned off the display and strode from my quarters, pausing to return the salute of a passing ensign who had snapped to attention as I emerged.

  “Good morning, Ensign Andre,” I said, holding my hand to my forehead as I awaited his response.

  “Commander Sinclair.” He remained rigid. “May we find victory in the field today.”

  “Indeed.” I lowered my hand, the signal that he could be on his way.

  The man responded in kind and resumed his brisk walk down the passage.

  I approved of Ensign Andre. The man took his work seriously, and set about his tasks with an efficiency that was commendable. He drank too much while in port, but so far as I’d seen, never touched a single drink or drug while on tour—not
perfect, but at a level I was willing to accept.

  The lift to the command deck was only a few meters down the passage, and I entered it without meeting any other crew—which was normal, we were twenty minutes into the first watch. Few officers would be about, as most of the third watch crew liked to visit the gym after their shift. An activity I approved of.

  I checked the duty register and saw that Lieutenant Reah was still on the bridge, as he was required to be until I relieved him. It was a ritual we’d become accustomed to, him taking the twenty minutes I granted to finalize his morning status report and ensure that the first watch crew had everything they needed to assume their duties for the day.

  The lift doors opened, and I stepped out into the short corridor that led to the bridge. My office was on the left, but I rarely used it, preferring to run the ship from the command chair as much as possible.

  I liked to be seen.

  The bridge’s doors slid open as I approached, revealing the circular room in the center of the Victorious Strike that was both the ship’s heart and mind.

  The middle of the room was dominated by a three-meter-wide holotank, currently displaying what lay in a five-light-second radius around the ship. Surrounding it were two tiers of consoles, able to seat twenty crew, should the need arise.

  Most of the time, I preferred to run the ship lean. I found that decisions were made faster if there were fewer people to deliberate with.

  Two officers sat in the lower ring, and four in the upper. On my right, set between the bridge’s two doors, was my command chair, overlooking the bowl and providing its occupant with a clear view of the entire space.

  Lieutenant Reah was already standing by the time my eyes alighted on him, a clear, “Commander on the Bridge!” ringing out, back of his hand pressed against his brow as he said the words.

  The crew rose and stood at attention as well, holding their positions while the lieutenant and I completed our morning exchange.

  “Good morning, Victorious Strike,” I said in response, my customary wry grin on my lips as I turned toward Reah. “Officer of the Watch, is everything in order?”

  “Yes, Commander. All systems are operating within two percent of maximum efficiency, and shift changeover is completed, with all stations reporting online.”

  “Very good,” I replied, returning his salute and lowering my hand.

  He followed suit a moment later, and the bridge crew took their seats, resuming their morning activities.

  “Is there anything noteworthy to report?” I asked.

  Reah shook his head. “Inbound lanes are busy, as expected, but so far, all the ships we’ve checked over are well rated and have passed muster. Our friends aboard the Five Moons provided us with a full dump of Chal’s outer beacon data as it stood right before they jumped, so we have a list of seven more ships we expect to see dump out of the DL in the next few hours.”

  I pulled the list up on my ocular HUD and pursed my lips as the names of the vessels scrolled past my vision.

  “Wait.” I scowled at one of the names. “The Kerrigan is still on this list. Based on their v, they should have been here already.”

  Reah gave a derisive snort. “Maybe they broke down. I wouldn’t be surprised. If they did, it’ll be a week before we see them. The northern L is almost fully occluded.”

  I shook my head. “No, something’s up.” I glanced at the scan officer. “Ensign Luke. The moment you see the Kerrigan, inform me.”

  “Yes, Commander,” the man replied. “Tuning the arrays for their approach and profile.”

  “Very good.” I turned back to Reah. “Jax Bremen wouldn’t do a run this close to occlusion if he didn’t have a haul to make it worth his while.”

  The lieutenant nodded. “Of course, Commander. The man does like to play it safe—for a smuggler.”

  “He does, indeed,” I mused.

  I’d stopped him twice before, both times finding small amounts of contraband on his ship. Enough to get him fined, but not face any serious sanctions. In both cases, what we’d found would have been sufficient to make his haul worthwhile, but I always suspected there was more. Perhaps this time we’d find the motherlode.

  Nodding to Reah, I said, “You are relieved, enjoy your rest.”

  “Aye.” He gave a curt nod. “I stand relieved.”

  The lieutenant turned and walked to the far door, exiting the bridge as I settled into the command chair. I spent the first ten minutes reviewing the third watch reports, noting the ships they’d scanned, and flagging two for portmaster inspections when they reached their destinations. There wasn’t anything overtly wrong with their customs declarations, but amongst any dozen ships, there were always at least a couple of bad apples, and my instincts picked them out more often than not.

  Following that, I dove into supply and requisition reports, checking over what we’d need to stock up on the following week when we docked with Geralt Station in orbit of Lothar. With the Victorious Strike at the tail end of a month-long patrol at the northern edge of the Delphi System, the list contained pretty much everything.

  What we did have was a hold full of contraband, and a ledger loaded with fines. One of the reasons I was allowed to run the Victorious Strike the way I saw fit was because no other ship in the DSA had a record half as good as mine when it came to picking smugglers out of the legitimate traders.

  Even so, I wouldn’t mind catching just one or two more before our tour was over.

  10

  AN OLD FRIEND

  Aboard the Kerrigan…

  The entire crew, barring Oln, had gathered on the bridge as we prepared to transition back into normal space at the edge of the Delphi System.

  The brief shift before we reached the barycenter had confirmed that the route through to our destination was still clear, and we managed to make the journey in only nine days.

  But despite the passage of time, the anxiety I’d felt since leaving Chal still hadn’t subsided. I suppose it made sense, since my worry was over things that had not yet come to pass.

  Stars…why am I being so formal about my fear? I chuckled aloud in an attempt to dismiss the worry. Just say you’re fucking terrified that Korinth is going to ice us all.

  “What’s so funny, boss?” Tammy asked.

  “Your hair,” I muttered.

  Of course, Tammy wore her hair short, and didn’t do anything unusual with it at all.

  My comment earned me a dirty look from her and a groan from Finn.

  “Sorry, just out of sorts, and trying to talk myself into a better mood.”

  “By making fun of your pilot?” Finn asked.

  “No, by telling myself jokes in my head, laughing aloud, making a snarky comment, and then being judged by my crew.”

  Kallie snorted and shook her head as she met my gaze. “Is it working?”

  “No.”

  “We’re t-minus thirty from transition,” Tammy announced a moment later. “May there be nothing nearby when we come out.”

  I felt another stab of fear take me, and after a few seconds’ deliberation, spoke up. “Dump five seconds early.”

  “Five? You sure?” Tammy asked.

  “Yes. Do it.”

  “You got it, boss. Dumping out…now.”

  The forward holo had previously displayed a number of vital readings over a black background. A second later, that was replaced by the ruddy light of the L with Delphi gleaming in the center of the screen.

  “Home sweet home,” Kallie said in a quiet voice.

  “I thought you were from one of the mining rigs on the rim,” Finn commented.

  “Uh huh,” the engineer replied. “But where I was born and where I consider home are different.”

  With a nod, I added, “Same. I wasn’t born on this ship, but it’s my home.”

  “Needs a coat of paint,” Finn said. “And something pretty on the bulkheads. Ever thought of a nice mural?”

  “Har har.” I pulled up the passive scan data, review
ing what the ship could see, while Finn stripped the nearest beacon’s signal.

  The Kerrigan was one of a dozen nearby ships on insystem vectors that aligned with jumps from Chal. Several of them had jumped ahead of us before we left, and a few had been trailing behind. This was normal, as the dark layer functioned as a velocity multiplier. The faster you were traveling on entry, the bigger the boost you received.

  I did note that three other ships were further behind where they should be. Either they’d transitioned out for an ANSWON report, or dumped out of the DL further from Delphi, not trusting the reports, and were drifting closer in normal space.

  “Looks normal for an occlusion cycle,” Finn said. “Everything on the north side is coming in, while traffic going south to Paragon is amping up. Everything looks just as I’d expect it to.”

  “Not keen on being one of the last ships in,” I said, counting only two freighters further outsystem than the Kerrigan. “DSA likes to take a gander at the stragglers. Usually, they’re smuggling shit.”

  “We kinda resemble that remark,” Tammy said. “Thanks for the beacon data, Finn. Plotting my course. Do you want to register it, or should I?”

  “I like to feel useful,” he replied. “I’ll do it. Gives me a reason to reconnect to the outer space traffic control. I have a friend who rotated out this way, I can pass along a message for any noteworthy news.”

  “You sure have a lot of friends,” Kallie said, resting her chin on a hand. “How is that possible?”

  “Dunno.” Finn winked. “Maybe I’m nice to people or something. You should try it.”