by T J Mott
The two of them walked through the docking tube which connected the starship to a space station, both of them wary and alert, searching for any sign of danger or betrayal. Him, an elderly man with thick, gray hair but still a good spring in his step; and her, an athletic young blonde who towered over him, her height and lean muscle adding an exotic flair to her natural beauty.
Captain Reynolds smiled as he recalled a conversation with Admiral Marcell in the Caracal’s aft lounge. Marcell had been drunk, of course. Reynolds believed the younger man’s vice had limited him far more than Marcell had ever realized, and in the back of his mind he wondered how far Marcell would have gone in life had he been sober more often. And during his slurred, wandering ramblings, he’d lamented his solitude, recounting how he’d felt about the supposed woman from Earth named Adelia, and had even briefly described a superficial romantic interest in Lieutenant Poulsen, the top-notch starship pilot for his flagship.
As he considered Marcell and Poulsen, Reynolds realized that there were interesting parallels between the two. Parallels he had not noticed until quite recently. On the one hand, Marcell was a broken, withdrawn loner who was running towards something and never getting there. Poulsen, on the other hand, was also a loner of a different sort, but she appeared to be running away from something and never quite escaping it
Both of them were rising stars, too. Marcell quickly and unexpectedly rose to the top of the Organization despite being a man of questionable sanity. He took it over, reshaped it according to his own desires and obsessions, and managed to transform it into one of the strongest mercenary groups around.
And Poulsen, it appeared, had just begun her climb. She was finally maturing. Her anger was still an issue, but she had made great progress in learning to control it during the time Reynolds had known her. And with that, she was gaining a new wisdom, and the unexpected ability to think in new ways when the situation seemed impossible. That was a rare, exceptional ability that the late Thaddeus Marcell had also demonstrated over and over again, as if he could take a jigsaw puzzle he didn’t like and somehow trick the pieces into fitting together to make a far superior picture.
Perhaps the two would have gotten along after all.
They continued walking together in complete silence, alert, and nothing happened. They crossed into the space station without incident. Nobody attacked them, nobody questioned them, and nobody even stopped them to check their ID.
Reynolds glanced over at her. She held herself tall and straight. Her eyes constantly darted around, never stopping for more than a second at a time, taking in the environment. She was scanning for risks, identifying exits and points of cover, searching for anything that seemed out-of-place or perhaps useful in a fight. Her brow and the corners of her mouth were wrinkled in the scowl she unconsciously assumed whenever she was alert.
Had she really been a member of the Hyberian Raiders? She still flatly refused to discuss it, instantly clamming up whenever he broached the subject. And that, to him, seemed an indicator that it was true.
The Hyberian Raiders now existed only as a legend, and many mediocre pilots, smugglers, and other people of questionable character claimed to have belonged. Such people loved talking about it, describing the epic battles and the glory they experienced, and yet their stories and details were obvious lies to anyone who had more than a week’s experience among the stars.
But her reaction was the exact opposite. She simply would not talk about it, and Reynolds could tell she experienced a sudden jolt of anxiety just at their mention. She tried to hide it, but it was there, revealing itself for the barest moment before she regained control.
They navigated through the crowds of people and finally reached a group of public information kiosks. Captain Reynolds took control of an unused one and began exploring the station’s databanks. “We’re on Station Alpha-Two, orbiting the last moon of Koronab IV,” he explained. “Seventy-three light-years from Waverly.”
“Let me see,” she said. She reached past him to take charge of the kiosk and panned around the starmap. It was simply impossible to retain control over a starmap when a pilot or chief navigator was present. “Well, we can’t just hire a transport to take us back,” she said, being careful to remain cryptic while they were in public. Not many people in the Organization were cleared to know Headquarters’ location. Both of them knew exactly where it was.
He looked at the map and noticed a familiar system name. “There,” he said, pointing at a star some two hundred light-years away. “I have a contact in the Jio system.” She nodded, realizing he was referring to someone who belonged to the Organization. Reynolds knew that Jio was a common stop for some of Commodore Cooper’s couriers. If they could find their way there, they would eventually encounter a Gray Fleet ship, and that was their ticket back to Headquarters.
“Well, let’s see if we can hire a transport to Jio,” she said. Then she abruptly returned the kiosk to its home screen and started walking away.
Reynolds briefly felt stunned, and then he smirked. Even if she didn’t realize it, she was taking control of the situation. One day she could be a fine commander, he thought. If she doesn’t rudely run over the wrong people along the way.
***
Yellow Fleet quickly arrived back at Headquarters, having been on a training patrol only a few sectors away. Per standard procedure, it parked a few light-seconds away from the rogue asteroid and Commodore Wilcox and his staff took a shuttle the rest of the way in.
Wilcox marched right into the Operations Center without warning and without introduction, catching Commodore Cooper completely by surprise. Wilcox was a pompous, self-absorbed, and overweight man who loved attention and fanfare, normally not one to move quietly or quickly.
Cooper stood to greet him. “Commodore Wilcox, it’s good to see you again. I’m sorry it has to be under such unfortunate circumstances though.”
“Maybe not as unfortunate as you might think, Cooper.” His straightforward response was uncharacteristically direct, which confused the intelligence chief. Wilcox normally loved to indulge in jovial small talk in his own annoying manner.
“How so?”
Wilcox looked around. “Good, Covier’s here too. Watch this. Couriers have been distributing this through several of the major black market routes, although it’s still overshadowed by the Emperor’s death.”
Wilcox produced a memory chip from his pocket and set it on the corner of the Ops Center conference table. Its computer linked to the chip and began playing a holovideo above the table.
An elderly man’s thin, lined face appeared in the image. He was mostly bald, with a shaggy ring of gray hair and a close-cropped goatee complete with a waxed mustache. He wore a broad, toothy smile. “Greetings to all my friends in the Independent Regions, and beyond. I am Captain Lex Dontun of the independent cruiser Nebula. You may know me from my reputation as the fastest, most reliable merchant-collector this side of Thorel, able to locate the rarest, the finest, the strangest artifacts one could ever desire. Today, I have important news to bring you, news of an upcoming and exceptionally exciting auction that many of you will no doubt wish to attend.”
“Wilcox, what the hell is this—”
“Shh, just watch!” Commodore Wilcox interrupted sternly.
“It’s my hope that this event will lift your spirits following the untimely death of the glorious Emperor. This auction will be held exactly forty Imperial days after the timestamp of this message,” the old man in the recording continued. “We will be hosted by the ever-generous owners of the Cadrian Casino, located in the exotic, beautiful white dwarf system of Cadria Minor. We will have many rare and exciting artifacts for sale: fine art, ancient collectibles, vintage weapons, and much more.”
Cooper sighed. “Wilcox, you’re wasting my—” But Commodore Wilcox cut him off again and the recorded message continued.
“But the reason I am broadcasting this is that I have one very unique and special item I want to auction off.
This is an item many of you across the galaxy desire, already worth millions of credits, but easily worth far more.”
The image flickered and was replaced by a high-resolution still of a man sitting on a cot in a prison cell. A man that everyone in the room recognized instantly.
“This rare item is none other than the man Thaddeus Marcell! The man who took over the old Kruse company. The infamous pirate, mercenary, and Earth treasure hunter, wanted by dozens of individuals and governments across the galaxy for a myriad of crimes and misdeeds! Yes, he survived his widely-reported—and factually inaccurate—demise after that incident near Waverly and is now exclusively in my possession. Come to my auction and get a once-in-a-lifetime chance to bid for your very own revenge against this Earth-crazed thief! The bid will start at fifty million credits.”
The image flickered back to the old man’s much-too-cheerful face.
“And, in addition, the winner of this auction will also receive a bonus item. One that will remain a closely-guarded secret until the auction begins…but let me tell you this, you do not want to miss out! If you are the type of person seeking vengeance, and you buy Thaddeus Marcell, I guarantee you will appreciate the bonus!
“Everything you need to know is attached to the data dump tagged to this message. I hope to see you in forty days, and greatly look forward to doing business with you.”
The recording ended. The Ops Center was completely silent. Commodore Cooper finally issued an angry expletive.
“I’m not familiar with Cadria Minor, but I assume it’s near Cadria Major?” Captain Covier asked. Wilcox nodded in response. “That’s way too far for us to reach in forty days.”
“Not anymore,” Cooper said. “Covier, Pichler…I’m going to get you everything I know about Admiral Marcell’s finances. Grab your favorite accountants and see if you can get enough cash to get us in.”
He turned to the corpulent Commodore of Marcell’s Yellow Fleet. “Wilcox, you’re with me. I have something new to show you.”
Chapter 20
The small transport was on the last leg to its destination. Soon, it would drop from hyperspace just outside the Jio system, and then coordinate with Traffic Control over phi-band to enter the system and dock with their destination.
Once there, Captain Reynolds and Lieutenant Poulsen would need to lay low for a while and watch the public traffic reports for one of Commodore Cooper’s Gray Fleet couriers. Fortunately, Reynolds, due to being stationed at Headquarters for so long, was well-informed of some of Gray Fleet’s common routes and aliases, so it was likely he’d eventually recognize something. It could take weeks, perhaps a few months, for a Gray Fleet starship to arrive. Then he’d have to send them an encrypted message and arrange for a discreet pickup.
“It’s hard to believe it’s finally over,” Poulsen said, breaking the silence and nearly startling Reynolds. She rarely ever initiated conversation.
“Hmm?”
“The search for Earth.”
They were the only two remaining passengers on the ship they’d booked passage aboard. The rest had been dropped off a day ago at a previous planet along their route. The transport’s captain was far from outgoing and had left all the passengers to their own devices, only leaving the privacy of his cockpit or cabin when he absolutely needed to.
And that meant that Reynolds and Poulsen were alone and could talk freely in the transport’s main lounge for the moment.
“What will we turn into?” she asked. “Without an obsessive mission to find Earth?”
Reynolds shrugged. “It’s hard to tell. It will depend greatly on who takes control. If it’s Cooper, everyone will be doing top-secret spy work. If it’s Wilcox, expect a bunch of swashbuckling pirate action. If it’s Covier, you’ll be a completely legal and well-oiled logistics machine within a year.”
She frowned. “You said ‘You’? Not ‘we’? You’re sure on this retirement thing?”
He nodded. “I stuck around because I found Marcell’s antics entertaining, and educational. And with that gone…” He shrugged again. “I don’t see much reason to stay.”
He sat at the awkwardly-small table in the transport’s main lounge and stared out the window into the blank nothingness of hyperspace. Every once and a while, he thought he could pick out patterns or shapes in the darkness, but he knew that was just an illusion, a trick played by his mind when presented with a completely empty visual for long enough.
No, his career was over, he decided. As he reflected, he wondered how much of life he’d missed. He had only seen his wife a few times a year when she was still alive. The kids grew up without him. And now his grandkids were growing up without him. And that didn’t seem right to him, now that he had some time to think without being distracted by his duty.
“I don’t know what I’ll do,” she said softly. “I don’t know if I’ll make it if I go back.”
The transport shuddered and clunked as it dropped out of hyperspace. The stars reappeared outside, looking brilliant to his eyes which were still adapted to the deep darkness of hyperspace.
Reynolds looked at her and realized she looked uncomfortable. “You’re a tremendously skilled pilot,” he reassured. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“It’s not that…” Her voice trailed off, and the unease he sensed from her continued to build. “You know how…volatile I can be. Sir, you protected me. I’d have been kicked out of Blue Fleet long ago without you.” She paused, and started to chew her lower lip. “I don’t want to go back to before. To hopping from freighter to freighter, trying to find work and getting fired over and over again when I make a mistake, or get angry and kick the crap out of some meathead who badly needed it.”
Now he understood her unease. She was actually trying to open up, something that was very difficult and unnatural for her. He understood her type, to a degree. She always strove to exude confidence and strength. But being open, that required one to be vulnerable. And some thought that being vulnerable implied weakness. And she did not want anyone to see her as weak.
“And Bennett was always on my case. Always trying to get rid of me. Maybe I deserved it, I don’t know. But you never let him fire me.”
“Amanda, you saved my life once in Keidi City,” he reminded her. “That was the last time I’ve seen my grandkids, and it wouldn’t have happened without you. I’d have been just another body in an alley with an empty wallet and a bullet hole in my chest. Nothing more.”
That was how he’d met her. He had been on vacation from the Organization, on his way to an all-too-rare visit with his grandkids, when a few armed thugs tried to mug him in a bad part of the city. And she’d showed up seemingly from nowhere, and single-handedly fought all three of them off, unarmed, doubly impressive since she was a woman. Then she’d begged him for a job and said she could fly anything. She apparently had no place to go, so he’d bought a hotel room for her for the rest of his vacation. Then he’d brought her to Blue Fleet, put her through some tests, and before too long she was considered one of the best starship pilots in the group. Since then, she’d been consistently loyal to him, yet consistently hostile towards almost everyone else.
He knew his executive officer had resented him for protecting her. But Reynolds saw her potential, and that she had nowhere to go.
She suddenly laughed. It was a brief, nervous gesture. “The mission to Waverly…By the end there, I started to feel alive. Like I finally belonged.”
So that’s what she’s been searching for in life. A sense of belonging. And she thinks she may have found it, but is worried she’ll lose it.
The silence hung between them for a long minute. She finally spoke again. “I don’t know if you realized it, but when I rescued you in Keidi…I was completely homeless. I survived by stealing from the local gangs. Dangerous, but they never expected it from a woman.”
He remembered her statement from a minute ago, and decided to once again press her on that issue she wouldn’t talk about. “Tell me. Did you f
eel like you belonged in the Hyberian Raiders?”
She tensed up quickly at the name of the old mercenary group, squeezed her eyes shut, and shuddered. Once again, Reynolds thought she would immediately end the conversation, but then she surprised him. “No,” she said, with a subtle shake of her head. “They never gave me the chance to.” Her voice was trembling, barely above a whisper. She looked down at the floor, and Reynolds realized that, to his surprise, she was trying not to cry. That was quite a break from her tough-girl attitude.
“My parents were killed in an accident when I was eight years old,” she stated quietly. “Everything I knew was taken from me. I had one much older brother I never really knew well before then. Ian. He was a Major in the Hyberian Raiders, and he took me in. He raised me, along with the other Hyberians.”
She stopped to collect her thoughts, and Reynolds twisted slightly in his chair to face her, giving her his full, undivided attention.
“I wanted so badly to fit in. Even as a kid, I did the training, learned to fight and fly. I spent most of my free time in the flight simulators and by the time I was fourteen I was already one of their best pilots, at least according to the simulator records.
“But my brother wouldn’t let me go on any missions. He wanted to protect me. I thought he was jealous of me, and holding me back. I tried so hard to prove myself. So then I took up kickboxing with one of the instructors. And that next year, I actually won the annual Hyberian kickboxing tournament. This sixteen-year-old ‘little’ girl beat out veteran men a decade older than her!”
She leaned forward in her seat, clenched her fists and her jaw, and her scowling face began to turn red with anger. “And still my brother wouldn’t let me in. It seemed so unfair!”
She paused again, and Reynolds decided to probe. “What about now? Does it seem unfair in hindsight?”
She unclenched her fists and brushed a clump of blonde hair away from her face. “I…I don’t know. Probably not as unfair as I thought back then.”
