Renegades: Origins

by Kal Spriggs

“You’re very thorough,” Simon said with approval.

  “I don’t always have the opportunity to make a good impression,” Michael said. “But when I do, I choose to be very thorough.”

  * * *

  ”Crowe has been a very busy little beaver,” Simon said.

  “Yes, this is something I noticed, as well,” Michael Santangel said. His accent seemed to add extra weight to everything he said. Simon found it almost hypnotic how the Saragossan seemed to choose every word with thought beforehand. “It seems to me that he had a number of schemes going on at once, with a large number of the passengers and some of the crew.”

  That seemed something of an understatement. Simon had seen the other man interact with a number of personnel on the station, before they made their escape. Since then, he had noticed, but not really put any thought into Crowe’s many interactions. It seemed like he should have paid more attention.

  “His dealings seemed mostly restricted, so that he didn’t associate with some people while he worked with others,” Simon looked again at the notes from Michael. He had added times and dates and people to it, so that the mess of notes was nearly incomprehensible. They had then moved it to a console, where they’d projected a timeline and interaction chain into a three dimensional map. It looked like the diagrams that he’d seen from the Confederation Security Bureau when they fought organized crime or when the Centauri Military fought Separatist insurgents. “So, from what I can tell, he interacted with four distinct groups. First, there was our crew: Mike, Ariadne, Eric, Pixel, Elena, Rastar, Anubus, Run, Mandy, Miranda and myself. Most of that looks like it was mission related.”

  “Some, but not all,” Michael said. “He introduced Elena to Mike. He avoided Ariadne whenever possible after he learned of her telepathic abilities. He also did not work with Mandy or Miranda whenever possible.” Santangel’s disagreement seemed strongly presented, but Simon wasn’t sure if that was disagreement or some effort to swing the conversation in some different path.

  “That’s true,” Simon nodded. “But I think Elena used him as an entry point, more than anything else.” He chose to ignore the overly forceful attitude and focus on the words.

  “Which doesn’t explain some of their later encounters, I believe,” Michael said. “I think we really need to look into why they spent so much time together later.” Simon heard something ugly in the man’s tone, almost as if he had some personal grudge.

  Simon shrugged, “Well, no, but some of it was work related and she seems to fall into the next group that he associated with,” Simon took a deep breath and pulled up the next network. Best to change the subject, he thought. “This seems to be the people that he tried to either suborn or manipulate because he saw them as threats.” It was a long list, and a dangerous one. High on the list were Rastar and Anubus. Crowe had tried to set the two at odds with one another, either to eliminate them both… or just for kicks.

  Also on the list was himself, Eric, Elena, the Nova Roma Ambassador, and Michael Santangel. Michael had pointed out several encounters where Crowe had seemingly tried to instigate violence between him and the Nova Romans aboard the vessel. The list also included Illario, who, Michael had confirmed, had been seen with the man in deep conversation a number of times.

  “Then there’s the third group, the people he had business dealings with: Pixel, Bastien Jascinthe, Mike, Illario Urbano, and the Ambassador.” Simon highlighted those names. “These people either worked with him on some project or traded services or help with him.” Simon had added Pixel to the list because of the computer he’d built, though Michael had discounted the importance of that. Michael had pointed out that Bastien had gone to Crowe for certain luxury items, which apparently Crowe had obtained both on the station and aboard the ship, to include perfumed soap, candy, and computer software. It looked as if Illario had obtained goods as well and his appearance on two lists made him stand out to Simon.

  “Yes, this group I find troublesome,” Michael said softly. “They are people who Crowe might have some leverage over, either for goods or for his knowledge of their needs or addictions. It is not a great leap in logic to assume he might have sought to pressure them… and one of them might have snapped in return.”

  Simon frowned, “Doesn’t fit the profile,” he said. “None of them would brutally murder someone over a trade for some simple luxury items.” Well, he privately admitted, Illario might. “Which leaves the last group: the people we saw him with that doesn’t have an explanation.”

  Michael shook his head, “These are probably linked in with the last group, only single dealings rather than a common occurrence…”

  “No,” Simon interrupted, “That might make sense for one or two, but we’ve got Crowe meeting with several of these people on multiple occasions. The lawyer from Tau Ceti, Wendel Henrike, for instance. Seven times. The guy is a slime-ball, what did Crowe want with him? The reporter, Valeria Zita, three times. She’s been awful quiet for a war correspondent, don’t you think? Then there’s Ilario Urbano again, big surprise there, they met six times in the past week alone, far more than necessary for some minor business in Crowe’s black market goods. Last, the Nova Roma mercenary, Donato Duilio, he met twice the day before he was killed.” Simon had little dealings with any of them. The reporter he had avoided for much the same reason as he had avoided the lawyer. He didn’t trust members of either profession. They both told stories for a living, which was a polite way to say they lied for money.

  “Perhaps,” Michael gave a shrug, “But, as you said, Crowe was involved in a number of schemes, these could be efforts to confuse anyone who watched his movements?”

  “No,” Simon shook his head, “Because that suggests that he thought his movements were being watched… but if he thought that, why meet someone alone in the crew quarters? What does Ghost have to do with all of this?” Simon threw up his hands, “Where the hell is Ghost, anyway?”

  “Not inside the ship,” Mike answered from the doorway. “But Ghost’s suit is missing from the armory. I’d guess our murderer used it to give us a good scare. Or Ghost is out on the hull, in which case we’re going to have to kill it somehow.”

  Simon looked up, “Finished your search?”

  “Security sweep, yeah,” Mike moved forward to stare at the network maps. “Huh, busy at work, eh?” His eyes flicked from image to image. The short Asian seemed to have little issue in following the diagrams.

  “Yes,” Simon rubbed at his temples, “When it comes down to it, it’s easier to list who couldn’t have killed Crowe than who might have done so.” He sighed, “Really, I’ve only got three of the passengers who I can honestly say had nothing to do with this.”

  “Well,” Mike said, “Brief Ariadne and I. We’re going to start interviewing the crew and passengers. This will help a lot, especially if they have something they can’t explain. We’ll start with the crew, so you and Michael here can brief me up, and then we start with you two.”

  “Us?” Michael asked, “That hardly seems necessary…” Simon found himself in agreement. For one thing, Michael had provided extensive help. For another, Mike’s words almost suggested that Simon was as much a suspect.

  “Necessary or not,” Mike said, “I’m doing it. We need to cover all the bases. Hell, Simon was on the bridge with me when it happened, but I’m still going to interview him.”

  Simon pursed his lips, but he didn’t argue. Logically, Simon knew that they had to give the appearance of impartiality. It rubbed him raw that anyone might even think he would have done the crime. Even so he gave a firm nod, “Absolutely, we have to explore every option.”

  * * *

  Simon sat on the couch and stared at the glass wall of the aquarium. The crew that had finished with the interviews had moved into the lounge at Mike’s suggestion. Eric had begun his work on dinner. For all of the other man’s faults, Simon had to admit that he had real talent when it came to food. The Hungarian Goulash he made was quite simply the tastiest thing Simon
had ever eaten. His mouth watered at the memory. It would be a shame if he used one of the kitchen knives to murder Crowe, Simon thought.

  Ariadne sat down next to him. She looked tired, Simon noticed. He wondered if she used her psychic powers during the interviews. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Invasion of privacy versus making sure justice is done, he thought. It wasn’t a moral argument he wanted to have with himself at the moment. If she saw any sign of his internal moral dilemma, she didn’t show it when she spoke, “So, I was thinking.”

  “Oh?” Simon asked. “I thought you were interviewing passengers?”

  “I’m on break, Mike wanted to take a break before the passengers,” She said. She shook her head tiredly, “Anyway, back on the first ship we hijacked, Crowe showed me an object.” Ariadne frowned, “It was what triggered my… vision and caused me to pass out.”

  “Yeah, I remember you said something about that, but Crowe wasn’t there,” Simon said.

  “What if he was or if the vision was accurate? What if he had something… something alien… something valuable? Might he have been killed over it?”

  Simon looked over at her. Ariadne brushed some of her blonde hair out of her blue eyes as she stared at him. “That’s not a bad suggestion, actually. And he already showed he had an ability to hide stuff. What did it look like?”

  “It was angular, like a… rectangle, kind of squashed,” Ariadne frowned. “Black and… green, I think, and glossy,” She frowned, “There might have been words or glyphs on it, I’m not sure.”

  “Okay, that’s something that would stand out. Small, angular, black and green, alien-looking,” Simon jotted down some notes.

  Elena spoke up from behind them, “What is this?”

  “A possible lead, Ariadne was wondering if Crowe was killed over an object he carried.”

  “As if anyone needed a reason,” Elena said. She shook her head, “Mike and I opened his locker, after everyone came to the lounge, there was no object like that there. We did find a stash of valuables, to include the identity cards of the dead crew of the derelict ship. I think he planned to hack them to create false papers for himself.”

  “That’s… pretty low,” Simon said. “Smart, but nasty. I almost think someone did us a favor when they killed him.” He sighed a bit, “Nothing else, no sign that he might have had something particularly valuable?”

  Elena frowned, “Now that you mention it, we did find a case, small, about the size of a cigarette box. Lined with foam. It was empty, though.”

  Simon and Ariadne exchanged a glance, “That is very interesting.” Simon stood, “Where did Mike go?”

  “He was checking with Eric about something, I think he mentioned the passengers,” Elena said. The bounty hunter looked confused. “Why?”

  “Well, I think we need to search the ship… again,” Simon said. He didn’t want to think how hard it would be to find the small object in question. Particularly if someone hid it ahead of time.

  “You have new theory?” Elena asked.

  “I think Ghost and our late friend Crowe might be unrelated, after all.” Simon said. “I think that Crowe had something valuable, and someone else figured out. Something small, easy to hide, easy to take. Either they killed Crowe to take it or Crowe discovered it was missing so they killed him to hide the theft. Everyone heard that Crowe had stolen from Anubus, so they made it look like Wrethe claws did the deed.”

  “So we find this item and we find the murderer?”

  Simon nodded. “Yeah…” He frowned. Something bothered him. Alien technology, possibly alien artifacts, valuable and hidden. What am I missing… Mike’s arrival interrupted that chain of thought. The short man walked up to the group. His face seemed tight with either tension or anger, though Simon couldn’t guess which, though he did see lines of worry around the other man’s eyes.

  “Ariadne, we’re going to start with the passengers,” Mike said.

  “Captain, we had a thought,” Simon began. “Crowe might have been killed for something he was carrying. It’s something to add to the questions you ask. Ariadne can describe it.”

  Mike just nodded. He rubbed at his eyes. “Something needs to break our way on this, and soon. We’ve got a back-from-the-dead Wrethe out on the hull, a murderer on board, and it looks more and more like Crowe was just using us for his benefit.” He paused, “Oh, and we’re on the run from the entire Chxor Empire. Did I miss anything else?”

  Run spoke up, “The vessel has damage and is unable to fight, our crew possesses limited training in their duties, no discipline, and are highly inefficient with much energy wasted in emotion, and I think the Wrethe plans to kill you and take your place.”

  “Right, thanks Run,” Mike said, his voice even more tired. Yep, he’s definitely got some more gray hairs, Simon thought, they couldn’t pay me to take his job.

  * * *

  Simon paced the lounge in thought. Passengers had begun to trickle in as they were cleared by Mike. He knew that Mike had Elena, Mandy, and Miranda move the passengers to the bridge to be interviewed and then to the lounge afterward. He wondered if the Captain had thought to put them in some kind of holding area before he interviewed them as well. That would help tremendously, he thought, if nothing else, they can watch one another and prevent further criminal activities.

  That thought, in turn led him to the nagging idea that hovered just out of reach. Something about the alien item bothered him. He stared at the empty buffet table for a long moment and then things clicked. “How did I miss that… Bastien Jascinthe, the xenoarcheologist! If you’ve got something like that, you’re going to try to find out what it does, right? And we’ve got Bastien, a self-proclaimed expert on it right here aboard ship!”

  “What?” Santangel asked. Behind him, Simon saw Elena herd a few more of the passengers into the lounge. She gave Simon a nod.

  “Hold down the fort, I’ve got to run up to the bridge,” Simon said

  Michael Santangel frowned, “What did you say about this Jascinthe fellow?”

  “I’ll tell you later, but this might seriously help,” Simon said. He rushed out of the lounge and and almost ran into Eric as the other man came down the corridor bearing a tray of food. Eric gave him a narrow-eyed look, almost as if he suspected Simon were off to a fight without him.

  Simon just gave him a nod and continued past. He hurried up to the bridge, and opened the door into a shouting match.

  The Nova Roma Ambassador and her two Marines occupied the rear of the bridge. The tall, dark haired woman was red in the face, and her diatribe continued unabated from Simon’s appearance. “…insist that you treat me with the dignity and respect that my rank and position commands!”

  Ariadne stood between her and the door, an angry look on her face. Mike stood near the door itself, one hand on his forehead. From his pinched expression, he clearly had a headache. From the high pitched voice of Ambassador Alara Vibius, Simon could understand why.

  “Hey Mike,” Simon said.

  “What now?” Mike snarled.

  “I was going to say that we should interview Bastien Jascinthe, he might have spoken with Crowe,” Simon said. “But something suggests we have other problems.”

  “Someone, and I’ll not go into who, just now, has insisted that my ‘imprudent’ and ‘lustful’ handling of her personage has offended not only her, but the nation of which she represents,” Mike snapped. “And she refuses to be ‘interrogated.’ So I’ll get to the historian when I get to him.”

  “He’s a xenoarcheologist,” Pixel corrected helpfully. The engineer still stood at the console, sorting files. He didn’t look up from his notes, “He studies alien artifacts.”

  “Whatever.” Mike grunted. “When I get to him, I’ll ask him.”

  “How about I go get him?”

  * * *

  Simon hurried through the passages until he almost bowled over Mandy and Miranda. “Bastien Jascinthe,” he said.

  “What?” Mandy asked.


  “The xenoarcheologist, from… Loire, maybe? One of the french colonies. He may know something about the object that Crowe had… that Crowe was killed over,” Simon said. “Mike wants to interview him next.”

  “Oh, right, that one,” Mandy grimaced. “The old guy who doesn’t keep his hands to himself and thinks gray hair and his lip ferret makes him look distinguished rather than like a molester.”

  Simon stared at her in shock for a moment. Then again, her description of the man seemed rather apt. “Yeah, that one.”

  “He’s claimed one of the empty storage lockers, forward,” Miranda said. “Said he wanted the privacy. The others didn’t really mind a bit more space in the cargo hold and I think Mike just didn’t care too much, since he hasn’t made much of a stink.”

  “He does stink,” Mandy said with a snarl, “And he’s slimy, with his superior tone and his grasping hands….” She paused, “Hey, if he knows something about Crowe, maybe he helped kill him? That would be great.” She cracked her knuckles.

  Simon got the feeling that she was more interested in retribution and the chance to beat the other man down than any real desire for justice. Still, she might be useful to intimidate the other man into telling them what he knew. “Okay, lead the way.”

  They led him forward and just as they passed the cargo bay where the other passengers lived, they came across Elena. “What are you doing here?” She asked.

  “Retrieving Bastien,” Miranda said.

  “Ah, I was just looking for him, Mike said he wanted to interview him next,” She answered. She quirked an eyebrow at the group, “Three to retrieve an elderly professor?”

  “He might know something about why Crowe was murdered,” Mandy volunteered. “Or he might be involved, in which case I’m going to work out some of my latent anger issues on him.”

  Elena snorted, “He might deserve that, anyway. He should learn to… ah, what is the term…”

  “Keep his hands to himself?” Miranda asked.

  “No… think before he speaks,” Elena said. “He propositioned me, in his words, because he thought he knew another use for the term for ‘head hunter.’ Perhaps you need help?”