Rookie Privateer

by McFarlane, Jamie

"You know about rumors, Reggie. Liam and Nick are just good hard-working folk like the rest of us."

  That seemed to be enough for Reggie Wuzzie. "What are you having tonight? Boys just ordered burgers. Same?"

  "Perfect. Got any of that lager left?"

  "Just for you, dear." He winked at her and showed a smile that we hadn't seen a few minutes earlier.

  "People aren't overly friendly here," I said.

  "They've had it pretty rough. In the last nine months, four raids got past the outer defenses and we've had open combat in the station's halls. If not for the colonists, we couldn't have repelled the pirates. Don't let the bright lights fool you. This is a war zone. A year ago this bar was so crowded you couldn't get a table. Look around, more than half of the tables are open."

  "Man, I didn't know it had been so bad. I swear that's not what the news feeds are saying."

  "I know. The Indian government is suppressing it. They won't help and don't want anyone to know about it. The station is pretty cut off."

  "Man that sucks," I said.

  "Good people here, but it's kind of a crap-hole. There is some word about the Indian Government selling the whole station to the Chinese."

  "How would that work?"

  "It makes sense if you think about it. Chinese have the second biggest fleet and they are trying to expand. Baru produces more fuel than the next three biggest stations. Big money."

  "Speaking of. Did you get my message about the ammo?" I asked.

  "Yup, we will bring a grav-pallet by in the morning. I hope we won't leave you too short."

  "Not at all, we need the money. We're just getting started." I said.

  "Do you really have a Letter of Marque with Mars Protectorate?"

  "That in the news feeds?" I asked.

  "No, I read some of the report. Mars Navy was pretty complimentary toward you fellas."

  We talked for a while about the attack on Perth. Marny had a pretty good understanding of what had happened but was interested in some of the finer points. We were all too happy to share our exploits. Nick especially enjoyed describing how we used mining gas bags to launch containers at the pirates. I enjoyed relaying how fierce Tabby could be in a fight.

  "That was genius," Marny said. "Those are some stones you're carrying, to be sure."

  Reggie Wuzzie arrived with three plates piled with food. I knew I wouldn't be able to eat half of what was presented. The strips of fried potatoes caught my attention, though. They smelled unbelievably good.

  Wuzzie caught me eying them. "You're gonna want some of this. Dip 'em in it." He picked up a bottle off of the table and squirted a small pile of thick red fluid.

  I looked back at him skeptically. Marny caught the interaction.

  "No. Seriously, it’s only ketchup," she said.

  I picked up one of the potatoes and had to drop it immediately. It was extremely hot. I licked my fingers because the grease was still burning a little and I was surprised that they tasted salty.

  Marny chuckled. "Blow it off and try again. I'd ask what rock you crawled out from under, but I'm afraid you'd tell me."

  "What's that supposed to mean?" I wasn't really offended, but clearly there was something I was missing about the food.

  "French fries and ketchup? How do you get to your age without even knowing what they are?"

  "I don't know ..."

  "So blow on it and then dunk it. Man up," she chided.

  I followed her instructions and was delighted by the taste explosion. Salty, sweet and crispy all at once. They were delicious. I wondered if we could make these on the ship.

  "Right?"

  "Frak, I wish Tabby was here. She would love this!" I said in an unguarded moment. It was probably the beer, but the unoccupied chair reminded me that our group was one friend short. Enjoying a night out, laughing and sharing stories and new experiences was great. I just wished Tabby was there to share it with us.

  "Sounds like a real pip, that Tabby. She'll turn that Navy on its head, I'll bet."

  "Tell us. How did M. Bertrand become a Lieutenant of the Baru Manush Defense department?"

  "Not much of a story. I came out of the North American Federation, originally from Winnipeg, Manitoba. I was a Marine, did a couple of tours on the ground in South America where things got dicey. Signed up for a tour with the North American Navy and happened to be on Baru Manush when my term ended. They gave me the option of re-upping or hanging out here. I have a bit of a temper and believed they were trying to trap me so I stayed. Baru Manush offered me a job to help organize their defense systems. Been here the last couple of years."

  "You were in South America. As in the Amazon War?" Nick asked.

  "Was and is. Probably the most scared I've ever been for fourteen months. It was all ground combat. Drones no bigger than a bird that'd get you, given half a chance. Nothing clean about fighting in a jungle either. When I got a chance to go into space I jumped at it. Never want to sleep on the wet ground again. Gotta say, I miss wide open skies. Don't miss that jungle though."

  "Any experience in a turret?" I asked.

  "Oh yeah. That's what we Marines are good for on a ship."

  "Any way to get your hands on any missiles?" I pushed further.

  "Maybe. What you cooking over there?"

  "What if we took the fight to the pirates? If they had more than one ship, they would have brought it out to chase us down. I think we could take out their ship, maybe even capture it. Our odds are more than even. When we overloaded our engines, their ship couldn't keep up. I guarantee it wasn't because they were being cautious, it was because they didn't have another choice. Sterra's Gift was once one of theirs, and I'm telling you, it was in terrible shape. I don’t think they have the resources to give us much of a fight."

  "You got rocks on you, Hoffen. You serious?"

  "Wouldn't that be worth something here? Stop all the pirate attacks?"

  "Yeah, of course, but personally I'm not into an even fight."

  "See if you can get a line on some missiles and maybe Baru Manush would front 'em. We would have surprise on our side. I bet Nick here could coax a little more out of our engines, at least for a short period."

  "Let me talk to my boss."

  "Any way you could avoid that?"

  "What? Talking to my boss? You know something I don't?"

  "They owned our sheriff on Perth. Not saying anything about the authorities here. But, the fewer people who know, the more chance we keep the surprise."

  "You might have a point there. Let me see what I can dredge up. Anyway, thanks for dinner. I better get going. I gotta buy some ammo from a guy tomorrow." Marny stood up and winked at Nick, who was staring again.

  "You got it bad, my friend. Let's get some sleep," I said. The bill came up to over eighty m-creds. We couldn't afford to eat and drink like that every night, but it wasn't every night you avoided getting killed by pirates.

  FORTUNE FAVORS THE BOLD

  By the time we made it back to the ship, the sacks of garbage had been removed. I was OCD enough that I needed to see them gone.

  At 0730 my alarm went off and I got up and stumbled to the galley for a cup of coffee. My head was pounding and I remembered the common wisdom that said drinking lots of water would offset the effect of alcohol. I sucked down a pouch of water while waiting for the coffee to brew. I wasn't a bit hungry, having eaten too many fried potato strips. It sounded so simple, but they were so tasty and went so well with beer. What a racket that Wuzzie had. You pay for food that makes you want to drink. Not a bad business model.

  At 0800 sharp, the stevedores showed up and quickly unloaded the ship. It turns out unloading takes only a fraction of the time that loading takes. It has something to do with not having to figure out where to put stuff. It also helped that we didn't have to vent and pressurize the cabin since we were already in pressurized space.

  At 1000, Marny, who I had to remember to call Lieutenant Bertrand when she was in uniform, showed up with grav-palle
ts and two uniformed men. Nick and I helped them off-load the ammo we had sold Baru Manush. Marny didn't disappoint. Her size wasn't just for show. She easily lifted twice what anyone else could and didn't complain or brag about it. That’s just the way it was. She was particular about how things were moved and careful to point out when someone was lifting dangerously. I was used to moving things in low gravity, so I was a little amused to see such a strong person worried about bad posture when lifting. Lieutenant Bertrand was insistent and it was easier to do it right.

  I was pleased that by lunch, our account had filled up nicely. Nick was in charge of the master parts list and had them lined up to be manufactured at several different replicators on the station. He also paid extra to have fitters available to install the armor panels. The biggest problem was that the mechanic said it would take at least four days to install the couplings and he couldn't start until tomorrow. The delay couldn't be helped.

  The floor cleaner bot showed up around 1300 along with a box of septic parts. I installed the shower head first - easy fix, big result. I didn't feel like getting into the slop again, so I left a message for a plumber to see what they would charge to install those parts. I hoped their price would be good.

  At 1600, Lieutenant Bertrand sent a message requesting our presence at Baru Defense Headquarters. The note mentioned a secure communication and I had an idea what that might be about. I took a shower and noticed I hadn't replaced my torn liner.

  "Mind if we hit a chandlery on the way back?" I asked Nick.

  "No problem, is there more than one?" The majority of the people here lived on the station and commuted to the ice and gas mining rigs. As a result, The Strip, as it was called by the locals, was significantly livelier than any one location on Perth. I had made a mental note that I would like to explore that a bit more tonight. Getting home last night had been a bit of a blur.

  The Baru Manush Defense headquarters was very close to the quarantine docking bay we had landed in. I imagined we weren't the first suspicious ship that had been inspected in the bay and wondered what additional scans Sterra's Gift had endured. Once we got the armor plates installed, we would have to re-dock at a less expensive location.

  We walked up a couple of levels in a stairwell and came out less than a hundred meters from the headquarters. It looked like any other municipal office I'd seen.

  The lobby itself was small, only three meters deep and five meters wide. I recognized the man sitting behind the counter as one who had helped us move the ammunition from Sterra's Gift to the grav-pallets.

  The brown-skinned man, still in his light blue uniform vac-suit, looked up with a smile. I felt fortunate to have an easy recall of people's names. "Heya Majeed. We got a call from the lieutenant."

  "Okay, check your weapons and have a seat. I will tell her you're here," he replied.

  I was still packing the laser pistol and Nick was carrying a flechette pistol. We slid them across the counter. Majeed pulled the slide back on the flechette and put a trigger lock on the laser pistol.

  "You can have them back on your way out," he said, still smiling. Apparently this was common on Baru Manush.

  Before we could sit, the door to the right of the counter opened and Lieutenant M. Bertrand filled the doorway. I expected a smile, but she was all business. "Come on in fellas, we are in the conference room." We followed her into a room where comfortable chairs surrounded a simulated wood grain table. Nick and I sat down.

  Secure room. Initiate communications. Bertrand instructed. The room lights dimmed and a green light encircling the top of the room in acknowledgment. At the end of the table, a hologram of Lieutenant Gregor Belcose appeared. I could imagine the large naval officer sitting in one of the rooms on the Kuznetsov.

  Gregor Belcose began. "Thank you for setting this up, Lieutenant Bertrand. Might we be allowed a private conversation?"

  "Aye, Aye," she replied, leaving off the honorific 'Sir.' She closed the door after leaving the room.

  "I'll get right to the point." Gregor looked at us intensely. "As you probably know, you are not in Mars Protectorate space. Baru Manush is under the protection of India and we have absolutely no jurisdiction. We are not authorized to render you any direct assistance." He paused to let that sink in.

  "Okay, what do you need from us?" There must be more, since Gregor could easily have sent that in an open communication.

  "We need Ms. Mie-su and that device in Mars Protectorate space."

  "Can't the Indians help?"

  "No. We have exhausted that particular avenue. They are sympathetic, but frankly, it is too small of an issue for them to send their limited assets all the way from Mars orbit to Baru Manush. The Indians are, however, interested in Ms. Mie-su being removed from the station."

  "And?" I wasn't going to make this easy for him.

  "And we need you to bring her back into Mars Protectorate space. We are not in a position to violate their space." He seemed a little annoyed at having to spell it out for us again.

  "We don't have the capacity to haul a prisoner."

  "We might not have the ability to directly assist you, but we are in a position to offer you a contract."

  "Hmm ..." I wasn't ready to bite on this yet.

  "What would it take to outfit your ship with a brig and hire sufficient crew?"

  "Is there a prize for the prisoner and for the device?" I felt greedy, but if I was going to be a successful businessman, I sure as heck wasn't leaving money on the table. I felt Nick squirm next to me. In my mind, there were two points of business here. Hauling a prisoner and the prize for an asset.

  "The contract would be for the prisoner, device and transport. Depending on the contents of that device, it could be of significant value."

  "Quite a bit of risk for us. I was hoping we could dump the device off here, real public like."

  "Tell me what you need," Gregor countered.

  "Mind if I get back to you on that? I need to check out some things first. What do you know about Lieutenant Bertrand?"

  "Nothing in-depth. Marine Sargent. Decorated in Africa for valor. Bit of an attitude problem. I can pull a file for you if that helps us get this going."

  "That'd be great. How soon do you need a response?"

  "You need to make it quick. Something out there has Red Houzi’s attention. We are tracking four ships headed in your direction right now. "

  "When will they get here? And what do you mean too small of a concern for India. Four pirate ships heading to one of their stations?"

  "Probably less than a week. We believe Red Houzi activity is being sanctioned by the Chinese and the Chinese are looking to buy Baru Manush. You put it together."

  "Got it. I'll get you something in a couple of hours. Savvy?"

  "What? Yes. Use that communications gear we installed, it's secure. Kuznetsov out."

  The room lit back up and Lieutenant M. Bertrand re-entered. "Have to say that was a first. Never been kicked out of a meeting by Mars Protectorate." She sounded a little peeved.

  "Buy you dinner tonight?" I asked.

  "People will talk," she replied playfully.

  "I have a business proposition for you."

  "2000? I'm off early."

  "Wuzzies?"

  "Nope, important businessmen like yourselves can afford better than that. Tipped Kettle at 2200. Dress up a little and try to blend in."

  "Still gonna be packing. We've had some bad experiences."

  "Get a sport coat then."

  Bertrand escorted us to the door and we retrieved our weapons from Majeed. We hadn't been in the conference room for more than fifteen minutes.

  We made our way down to The Strip and Nick located a clothier. I'd never been in a shop dedicated to selling clothing. For that matter, I only owned one pair of jeans that I wore when I was in school. Most of the time I just wore a suit-liner.

  A round, balding man in a dark suit wore a disapproving grimace and greeted us dryly. White walls and white shelves held glass
vid screen displays on three walls and were accented by two tall bright green gloss tables. Upon our entrance, the vid screens started displaying different clothing ensembles on models that were suspiciously similar to Nick and myself. The cheery interior couldn't have been more different than the dour little man.

  "May I help you?" he asked, trying not to sound bored.

  "I am looking for jeans, dress shirt and a jacket that can fit over my shoulder holster."

  His interest appeared to pique, "A blazer then?"

  I hadn't heard the term so I figured I should be clear, "A dress jacket, something I can wear to a restaurant."

  "Any thoughts about color or material?" He must have been disappointed in my answer.

  "Really. I don't know. I want to look nice, but not like I am pretending."

  "Well, step over here." He motioned to the floor where a pair of green feet were painted on the floor. I did as he bade and saw small red lights flicker over my suit.

  "Look at these," he said, "and tell me if you see anything you like." The entire wall now showed me in a dozen different outfits. I pointed to one where I was in a black coat, white shirt and jeans. It also showed me in some sort of boots with a heel.

  "Conservative, but you are young enough to pull it off. Let's explore that a little." He gestured and the screens all showed different versions of jeans, dark coats and different light colored shirts. I didn't have a strong opinion.

  "Uh, well, what do you think?" I looked first to the man and then to Nick.

  "I might go for cream instead of white. Your coloring goes well with a very basic palate. I think your first instinct was good. How about a nice linen weave on the jacket. It breathes beautifully and is guaranteed never to rip or wrinkle."

  "How much for that and the boots?" I had never owned a real pair of shoes, having always just used my vac-suit's boots.

  "Cowboy boots. I pegged you for the cowboy look. The entire ensemble will cost 350. We replicate them here and will deliver within the hour."

  "Could you add four navy blue suit-liners too?" I asked.

  "Yes, the cost for a basic synth-cotton liner is 50, but we are having a special on a new fabric that stays fresher longer, only 75 each or four for 250. It's quite a good deal."