"How did you… I didn't say—"
"What is he? Nephew? Second or third cousin?" she asked. "I knew he looked familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it until your ugly mug came up on the monitor."
"Yeah, something like that," Jason said, relief flooding through him. It was important that nobody knew Jacob was actually his son. Such a close family tie could be exploited.
"I could maybe work up a quote and give you a loose track on his whereabouts, but he's actually a pretty slippery kid for being military. We crossed paths a few times recently, and he seems to know how to handle himself," Whitney said. "I can't promise you anything. I'm on a big contract right now and can't lose focus."
"Who's the poor bastard you're about to retire?" Jason asked.
"I am not an assassin," she said through clenched teeth. "And there's no way in hell I’m telling you my target or the client."
"Come on," Jason wheedled. "Maybe we can do an exchange. I could have information that would help you out, and in trade, you carve out a little time to help me out."
"Pass," she said. "I'm not sure you'd even want to help me if you knew who I was after." A look passed over Whitney's face briefly before she buttoned it back up. Jason caught it, though. In a rare slip up, she let something out she hadn't intended to.
"It was worth a shot," Jason said, pretending he hadn't noticed. Whitney didn't waste time with saying goodbye or making up an excuse that she had to go. She simply reached over and killed the channel as Jason opened his mouth to try a different approach.
"Interesting," he mused, pushing back from the desk, and spinning in the chair.
What's interesting? Cas had obviously been watching the exchange through Jason's ocular implants.
"I know whoever her target is," Jason said. "And it has to be someone I either like or find to be useful if I would be hesitant to help her track them down."
Short list. Give me a little bit of time to think about it.
"You mean you're actually going to be helpful?"
It's a way to pass the time.
3
"This is it. The Skaxis System, home of the Creet-Eska Shipyards and Brokerage, along with that really dark purple wine that gives Crusher such bad hangovers," Kage said. The Devil's Fortune had dropped back into real-space with the gentlest of bumps from her perfectly aligned slip-drive array, and now the forward sensors were giving them a view of the pretty green planet they were flying towards.
"Let's bomb those wineries from orbit," Crusher said.
"Maybe later." Jason waved him away from the forward displays. The bridge was laid out with a larger crew in mind so there was a lot of room to roam around. Jason split his time between the helm where he would actually pilot the ship when needed and the command chair, which was much more comfortable. The command console built into the chair also let him direct the ship's automated systems including an advanced pilot program that, in most cases, eliminated the need for an actual helmsman. He directed the ship into one of the six standard approach lanes to the planet for a ship of their class and told the computer to ask for orbital clearance. "Kage?"
"Our contact for Creet-Eska has already gotten back. They're sending up coordinates for a parking orbit over Skaxis-3, and then coming to get you," Kage said. "The showroom is on the surface, and there are seven models that meet your criteria."
"So, we're buying another ship?" Crusher demanded. "Who is paying for this one?"
"What do you care?"
"This crew has always operated on a profit share model. Hard for there to be any profits if you keep spending all our credits on high-ticket items."
"We're in the middle of fighting a fucking rebellion, you idiot," Jason said. "There aren't any profits right now."
"Still," Crusher said, "I think this should be brought up to a vote."
"We did vote on it," Kage said. "It was during the meeting you stomped out of ten minutes into it because you said it was boring."
"The Phoenix is back on S'Tora and, for right now, not practical for what we're doing," Jason explained, heading off an argument between the two. "We operate mostly on the ground, and this ship is a huge pain in the ass to get down to the surface and back up to orbit. That's why we're buying a new runabout. Even if you'd voted no, everyone else voted yes, so you were outnumbered." Crusher seemed to chew on that for a moment, looking for some hole in the explanation he could exploit to keep the argument going.
"Whatever," he said, giving up. Kage's eyes lit up, and he turned to face Crusher, smelling blood in the water, and moving in for the kill.
"Don't," Jason warned him, his tone conversational. Kage sighed dramatically but turned back to his monitors.
"We're six hours out from orbital intercept," he said. "They'll send the shuttle when you signal."
As Jason could have predicted, the crew became restless and filtered off the bridge shortly after the six-hour transit time was announced. Doc mumbled something vague about catching up on trade publications, Crusher just stomped off without a word, and Twingo made a break for it after realizing the others had left without him. Once they were all gone, Kage turned to Jason and smiled widely.
"It's nice to have some one on one time every so often, isn't it?"
"What do you want, Kage?" Jason asked wearily. "And don't insult me by saying you're up here because you enjoy my company that much."
"I don't not enjoy your company," Kage protested. "We're just interested in different things. We've grown apart over the years because of that I think."
Jason groaned and rubbed at his eyes. "For the love of—"
"Okay, okay…here's what I want," Kage said. "I need to withdraw some credits from one of our slush accounts. I'll pay it back over the next few profit shares."
"How much?"
"Six and a half million ConFed credits," Kage said with a straight face. It took all of Jason's self-control not to just laugh in his face. He looked at his friend and saw he was dead serious about needing that much money.
"You're not in trouble, are you?"
"Not me personally, no."
"And you're not going to give me the details?"
"I'd rather not."
"Tell Doc to initiate the transfer, and that I approved it," Jason said after a long pause. He wanted to make warnings and probe further, but Kage deserved the same amount of blind trust the Veran had shown him on more than one occasion. If Kage said he needed it, then Jason would trust it was for a good reason, and that if he didn't want to explain what it was for, then it wouldn't be something that would endanger the rest of the crew.
"Thanks, Captain," Kage said, nodding once and looking away. Another uncharacteristic response from the high-strung code slicer, especially so since he'd gotten what he wanted without much of a fight.
The rest of the trip passed in awkward silence as Jason messed around on one of his own terminals and Kage pretended to be engrossed in his own work. The hours ticked by, and the lull of the constant hums found on any starship started to make Jason drowsy. His eyes had just started to close when a shrill alarm sounded, and the bridge lights flashed red twice before returning to normal.
"What the hell?" he croaked.
"The Devil has just identified a potential threat that just popped up in the system," Kage said. "Standby…sensor data is compiling now. It's still pretty deep in the outer system."
"The outer system?" Jason asked. "Aren't all the commercial mesh-in points for this system near the habitable worlds?"
"They are," Kage confirmed. "Whoever this is was probably trying to be sneaky, and it backfired."
Jason watched the sensor contact on his own display as the computers chewed through the raw incoming data and populated the vital statistics. From her length and displacement, it was a frigate-class ship, but just barely. The active sensors were picking up some significant hull damage on the port flank, and there were also some visible weapons ports along the prow. Whoever they were, they weren't shy about everyone knowing they had
some teeth.
"Now, this is interesting," Kage said. "The sensor match came from the database we uploaded from the Phoenix before we dropped her off back home. This ship is one we have a profile on because we've run into her ourselves."
"How old is the contact profile?"
"Five years."
"So, this might not even be the same owners or crew," Jason mused. "Had we been able to positively identify it?"
"It's a ship we've seen twice. She looks like your average border system privateer, but we confirmed they're flying with a ConFed Intelligence Service crew," Kage said. "I'm accessing the shared threat database we have with Mok's people to see if I can re-confirm that."
"Shit," Jason muttered. He let Kage work to confirm the new bogey, but he was confident what they were looking at was a ConFed asset trying to sneak around the outside of a system they'd just arrived in. It could be pure coincidence, but his gut told him it wasn't.
"Mok's people don't have any current intel on it," Kage said. "The Zadra Network confirms our suspicion that it's a known ConFed Intel ship, however."
"You have access to the Zadra Network?" Jason asked, surprised.
"She may have given me a backdoor into the system before she handed it over to your people," Kage said.
"You didn't think that maybe you should let me know this?" Jason asked, his neck and cheeks flushing red.
"I thought I did." Kage shrugged. "I guess it just never came up."
Jason knew he was being baited into an argument with the little bastard, so it took all of his self-control to put a lid on his bubbling frustration and keep a cool, calm exterior. He had just told Kage he'd give him millions of untraceable credits just on his word and, within hours, he was already back at his usual antics. It was useless to get pissed about it because Kage seemed to thrive on irritating other people, and he already knew none of them would physically harm him to the point of permanent damage.
The Zadra Network, as it was known to the few who knew it existed at all, was a vast underground intelligence network that had been overseen by another Veran by the name of Weef Zadra. She had managed to tie into all the little veins of information that flitted through the quadrant until they all flowed back to her in a mighty torrent. If information was power, then Weef Zadra had been one of the most powerful fixtures of the underground. She was so connected and feared that she lived alone on a brutal world like Niceen-3 in the Reaches without anybody so much as trying to mug her on the sidewalk.
But as often happens, the thing that made her powerful turned out to be her undoing. Weef had discovered the true nature of the source of recent discord in the ConFed: the Machine. The problem came for her when it also found out about her. Once it was aware she knew its secret, she wasted no time in activating one of her escape plans. She had Marcus Webb send one of his Scout Fleet teams to retrieve her and whisked her off to the Avarian Empire where she was damn near untouchable. In return for their help, Earth gained access to her entire intelligence network and, apparently, gave Kage access to it as well.
Jason suspected the reason Kage had kept quiet about access to the network was because he planned on stepping into Weef's place and becoming an information broker. He certainly couldn't begrudge his code slicer of having a side hustle, they all did. But keeping such a powerful resource to himself while they were in the middle of helping a rebellion fighting against a ruthless superpower was…annoying.
"You lying little shit! You've been selling access," Jason said, suddenly realizing what Kage had been doing and why he hadn't mentioned he could access the intel network. "Or you're planning to. Is the money to set up the logistics for your new enterprise?"
"I—"
"Save it, I don't care," Jason said. "As long as you're not charging us for intel you have access to, you can do whatever you want with it." Kage looked genuinely surprised.
"Deal," he said. "Anyway, it's a ConFed trawler but doesn't look to be paying us any special attention."
"We're coming up on our parking orbit," Jason said. "We can't pull off now without it being noted in the logs. Keep tracking it, but no direct scans."
"Computer is tracking target, alerts are set if it moves towards us aggressively."
"Orbital intercept in forty minutes," Jason said. "You're in charge. I'm going to go get the others ready to head down. As soon as you can, signal the broker we're ready for a pickup."
"What about our friend out there?"
"Just keep an eye on them. If they start coming in at you, and we can't get back in time, take the Devil and get the hell out of here. We'll catch up later."
The shuttle the ship brokerage service sent was much as Jason expected: plush to the point of almost being vulgar. The main cabin had deep, soft couches done in red, and the deck was some type of synthetic material meant to look like wood with a bleached gray color as if it had been sitting in the sun for decades. There was also a full bar, complete with a bot bartender.
"I could get used to this," Crusher said, sliding into a seat at the bar and motioning the bot over.
"Don't," Jason said, accepting a flute of something blue and fizzy from their host.
"Sometimes, our Orbital Authority can get backed up, and we're forced to fly in formation for a few hours," the alien said. "We like to make sure our guests are as comfortable as possible."
"And getting them liquored up before they start negotiating a major purchase probably doesn't hurt." Jason rolled his eyes.
The alien was a wispy thin, impeccably dressed…something. Jason had never encountered its species before, but it had introduced itself as Kaloo and the name sounded like it could possibly be from Crea-2, a planet out near the Orion Barrier region. Regardless of its species, it exhibited the same oily mannerisms universal to all salespeople that grated on Jason's nerves.
"That certainly does not." Kaloo smiled widely. "I have assembled a collection of ships that fit the criteria you forwarded me, and I'm confident you'll find what you seek."
"I'm sure," Jason said. "Any chance I can take a look now?"
"This way, of course." Kaloo gestured to the enormous bulkhead display and spoke softly into his sleeve cuff. A moment later, images and specs on seven different strike-class ships scrolled across.
"Two of these aren't even the right type of ship," Twingo said, stepping up beside Jason with a glass of ale in his twin-thumbed hand the bot had poured from a tap. "The two gunboats are just up-armored shuttles, and he knows it."
"They're the first two throwaways," Jason agreed. "They toss those in to get us moving in the direction they want. There will be one ship he actually wants to sell us, and that will be the one that— Hey! Kaloo! What's this shit?"
"What shit would that be, good sir?" Kaloo asked, stepping up to them and unperturbed by the outburst.
"I specifically said brand new vessels only." Jason pointed at the display. "What's that doing there?" Kaloo looked genuinely confused.
"The Jepsen Aero SX-5?" it asked.
"Yeah, the ship from a company that hasn't existed for decades," Jason said.
"Ah!" Understanding dawned on Kaloo's face. "There is, in fact, a shipyard that is now building and selling small ships under the Jepsen moniker. They purchased the defunct shipbuilder when they shutdown initially and are now marketing them as an alternative to the Eshquarian craft. With the fall of the Empire, the vintage Jepsen ships have been steadily regaining popularity."
"They seem to have captured the spirit of the old Jepsens," Twingo said, tracing over the shape of the sleek craft with his forefinger. "Or at least made a passable knockoff that's aesthetically similar."
"I can assure you the ship lives up to its name's legendary reputation when it comes to performance and firepower." Kaloo moved in for the kill, sensing an opening. "You have experience with Jepsens, I take it?"
"We—or more accurately, he—owns a Jepsen DL7," Twingo said, pointing to Jason.
"You have an actual flying DL7 gunship?" Kaloo was incredulous. "W
hich generation?"
"Third," Jason said. "She was one of the last ones built at the original shipyard."
"Would you be interested in selling her?" Kaloo asked. "We have quite a discerning clientele and a specialized piece of equipment like that could go for some serious credits."
"Not for sale," Jason said firmly.
"A pity. If you change your mind—"
"I won't."
"—just remember what I said," Kaloo said, ignoring the interruption. "I would be more than happy to broker a deal that would be profitable to all." When Jason didn't say anything further, Kaloo bowed and withdrew, walking back over to the bar to converse with Crusher.
"We just tipped our hand," Twingo said. "He'll know we want the Jepsen if no other reason than nostalgia and familiarity."
"Oh, we did that, did we?" Jason glared at his oldest friend. "And how do you know it's a he?"
"Crusher asked when we came aboard."
"For the love of— Has he no sense of decorum?" Jason hissed.
"You can't seriously be asking that question. You have met Crusher, right?"
Jason just shook his head and went back to looking at the available ships before him, trying to keep an open mind and be objective now that he knew Jepsen was making brand new ships he could buy. He made a mental note to see if they were making a new version of his own ship, toying with the idea of having one custom built from the ground up.
"Good news, gentlemen," Kaloo said after another round of polite laughter at one of Crusher's likely-offensive jokes. "The pilot has just informed we have been cleared to de-orbit and proceed directly to our facility. We will be on the ground in moments."
Jason knew which ship he was going to buy before he'd even had the chance to power up any of the five finalists. Kaloo knew which one he was going to buy as well, which put Jason at a distinct disadvantage when it came to negotiating the price. In the end, Jason had to up his budget just a bit, but a quick flight along the test range adjacent to the facility cemented in his mind that he really wanted the Jepsen ship.
The Pandora Paradox Page 3
