Resurgence

by Stephen A. Fender

  “Thad wouldn’t touch it,” Quinn countered. “Kill it maybe, but not touch it.”

  "Enough!" Kristin shouted to stop the squabbling. "It's obvious you all know each other in some way, and that you don't like one another. But you've all been brought here for the same reason. So, my question is, can you work together?"

  Quinn adjusted his cap. "If the money is right, I can work with anybody," He then turned to Thad. "And to work with him, the money better be damn right."

  "I know what I'm capable of," Thad grumbled.

  Kristin couldn’t be sure, but she felt that was an affirmative answer.

  Mia dangled Quinn's watch up to the dim light for her inspection and sighed. "I typically don’t work with anyone, but I'll make an exception if the score is good enough." Quinn snatched the item from her and strapped it back to his wrist.

  Kirsten nodded. "Good. It's settled then."

  Alasdair laughed heartily. "You've got to be joking. These sods are criminals!"

  “At least I know what I am,” Thad countered. “Can you say the same?”

  Kristin ignored the stab. "I don't need saints to get done what I need to do. This isn't about politics or about money, Alasdair."

  "It is for me," Quinn piped in, getting nods from Thad and Mia.

  "This is about Bobby," Kristin continued. "And making the ones that killed him pay for what they did. I need a crew, they've got the resume to get the job done, and I've got the money to pay for them. The decision's been made, and it's up to you to live with. Or you can stay here and fiddle with your badge while staring into another glass. It's your choice, but I'm leaving."

  Mia chortled loudly. "He looks like a fiddler.”

  Alasdair mulled over Kristin's words before speaking. "There's no way I'm going to let the ones that did this to Bobby get away with it. I owe him that much, and very much more. I'm in." He then lowered his voice. "But I wouldn't trust these people to help the grandmother of my worst enemy cross a busy street. I’d keep that in mind if I were you."

  “I don’t trust anyone.” She hoped he got the implication. "Now, we need to break the Cobalt Rose out of impound. What are our options?" The words tasted bitter in her mouth. Kristin had never stolen anything in her life. Would she have to become the person the Trade Guild had labeled her just to find the ones who killed her brother? There's no price too high for that.

  Alasdair looked around nervously, hoping Kristin's words hadn't carried beyond the confines of the table. "I suggest we find someplace a little less conspicuous to discuss this. I’ve got a car outside."

  Chapter 5

  Alasdair's combination living and dining area was little more than a single room with a small window that afforded a depressing view of a nearby brick wall. He was there, staring into what Kristin didn't know. He'd already gone over all the intelligence he'd gathered on Camia, the missing ships, and anything else he felt was pertinent. It hadn't taken long. Based on what he'd offered, Kristin already knew she'd have to tap another source for information—one far less appealing to her than Alasdair Pryce.

  The rest of the assembly from the Miss Jump lounge had gathered around a circular steel table barely large enough to suit their needs, the top of which was covered in papers, diagrams, and Quinn's computer terminal. They'd been planning for hours, each idea leading to dead ends or certain capture when Quinn and Mia had finally hatched a scheme that carried promise.

  Quinn was busy at his computer, entering information at a pace too quick for Kristin to keep up when his latest query returned the results he was hoping for. When a broad, satisfied smile cracked his deep purple facade, he looked at her. "I think I found just what we need."

  "What do you have?"

  "The SS Minerva," he offered, turning the computer toward Kristin.

  She studied the three-view diagram of the ship and its specifications. "What do you know about her?"

  "Everything we need. She's a tramp freighter out of Athea. The Minerva was moving some valuable ceramics off the planet Elnora when she encountered a minor navigational computer error. Nothing serious, but the pilot decided to set her down here on Arbrer for repairs on his way back to Athea."

  “And how does that help us?” Kristin asked.

  Quinn pointed to an entry in the logs. “Like the Rose, she’s been impounded.”

  "Why?" Thad asked, shifting his weight in the small chair.

  "The repairs to the Minerva were completed four months ago, but the company who chartered it to ferry cargo went belly-up before the repairs could be paid for. The captain of the ship, a mister Etom Gladsby, didn't have the money himself, so the shipyard impounded the vessel. What's doubly-bad for the Minerva is that she's owned by the Intersector Bank of Athea. Because the cargo was never delivered, Gladsby didn't get paid, and he couldn't make the monthly payments for the last three cycles. The bank is set to repossess the ship any day now."

  "But the bank will have to make reparations to the shipyard before they hand it over," Mia said, smiling as she looked from the computer to Quinn. "Brilliant."

  "Why is that brilliant?" Kristin asked in confusion.

  "Because that's where we come in," Quinn replied.

  Kristin looked from Quinn to Mia and back. "I don't follow."

  "She's not a criminal mastermind like you two," Alasdair droned, still looking out of the windows. "You'll need to go a little deeper for her."

  Quinn gestured to Mia, who rolled her eyes before replying. "We're going to use the Minerva as a distraction while we get onboard the Cobalt Rose.”

  "How?"

  "For the bank to take possession of the Minerva, they'll need to inspect it first," Quinn said. "I can create some fake credentials that'll make the impound workers think we're the bank coming to investigate the Minerva."

  "What kind of inspection?" Kristin asked. This drew Alasdair from the window.

  "Nothing too in-depth," he said as he leaned toward the diagram on Quinn's computer. "Normally the bank would want to make sure the transponder codes match their financial records, that the ship is in good working order, and that all of the repairs have been made."

  "Where will that get us? We don't want the Minerva, so who cares if it's in order?"

  "Because that's where the magic happens," Quinn said smugly. "We can't get aboard the Rose right away. She’s government owned and under security lockdown, and only a few authorized people are allowed to board her. But, that doesn't apply to the Minerva. She's just impounded, so all we need is the right credentials to get past the front door, and we're in. You see, once we get onboard the Minerva, we can use its computer to interface with the Rose, along with helping with a little distraction later on."

  "Like what?"

  Quinn leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head. "The distraction itself is pretty straightforward, but first I'll have to implant a code snippet into the Rose's computer. This will give us access to it her we need it. But, to get the code into the Rose’s main core, I'll have to use a pretty powerful transmitter."

  "Like the one on the Minerva," Kristin said in understanding.

  "Exactly," Quinn nodded. "Luckily, we can explain accessing the transmitter as part of the inspection normally done when taking ownership of the vessel. Still, if I've got security or shipyard personnel looking over my shoulder, I won't have a chance in hell of transmitting the signal to the Rose without being detected."

  "I can take care of that," Thad growled, the implication of his intentions clear.

  "No one gets killed," Kristin rebuked.

  "Unless they have too," Mia added.

  "No one," Kristin repeated as she looked around the table. "Clear?"

  A collective grumble from all signaled their understanding.

  "Thad, you can be a better distraction by playing along," Quinn said.

  "How?" He removed a flat stone from his pocket and began sharpening one of his blades.

  Quinn leaned back. "It'd be helpful if we could split into teams once we're on the
Minerva. I'll need to be in the cockpit to interface with the main computer and the transmitter. Thad can check out the cargo hold. Pryce can check out the engineering section."

  "And me?" Mia asked.

  "Utility lines," Quinn said as he brought up another schematic, this time displayed as a hologram for all to see. "They run all throughout the ship. I'll need you to plant a couple of transmitters at strategic points along these lines if we want to be successful. It won't be easy. Some of those spaces are pretty tight."

  She studied the screen over his shoulder. "Compared to some of I’ve been in, these are luxury suites. I'll manage," she replied confidently.

  "And what about me?" Kristin asked.

  Quinn blinked, then looked at the rest of the team. "Well, like Alasdair said, you're no criminal. That means you're more of a liability than an asset at this point."

  "So, what?" she asked incredulously. "I'm supposed to just wait here?"

  "Better than compromising the job," Thad complained.

  "But she is an asset," Alasdair injected. "And we're going to need her."

  "Sure, if we want to get caught," Mia quipped. “It’s too risky.”

  "She was the first officer of a civilian merchant ship, something none of us have ever done," Alasdair replied. "In fact, she's served on ships most of her adult life. Quinn’s bogus credentials, no matter how fancy, are only going to get us so far. We'll get onboard, but she can make the inspection believable."

  Quinn shook his head as he folded his arms across his chest. "I don't see it. I've gotten on my fair share of ships without any of you people in the past. Why do we need her now?"

  "Because you were just booking passage," Alasdair argued. "What we're talking about here is not just getting aboard, but staying there for a protracted amount of time while we poke and prod every vital system. Kristin adds credibility."

  Kristin had heard enough and slammed her palm onto the table hard enough to rattle Quinn's computer. "Stop talking about me in the third person! I'm right here and can speak for myself."

  "Entonces di algo," Mia snapped. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but we're not exactly a democracy here."

  Kristin withdrew her hand, absently rubbing the stinging sensation away. Damn it, that hurt! "As long as I know what needs to be checked out, I think I can keep us from getting caught."

  "You think?" Mia snapped. "You need to be sure, or we're all going to prison."

  "For a very, very long time," Quinn finished.

  “Some prisons are self-made,” Thad offered delicately as he sharpened the blade of his dagger. “And we take them with us wherever we go.”

  Everyone turned to Thad and silently regarded him.

  “You got a real dark side, don’t you?” Quinn asked.

  “You have no idea.”

  Kristin looked at each of them, then finally to Alasdair. "I can do it. I know it."

  He nodded in reply. "It's pretty standard stuff. I've been a part of similar inspections in the past. I'll get the list of checks to you by morning. Anything else on your mind?"

  "What about the Minerva's captain… this Etom Glabby?" Kristin asked.

  "Glasby," Alasdair corrected "and local law says he doesn't have to be informed of the inspection. He's likely already received notice that the ship is being repossessed, so he won't be there. The problem is going to be who will be there."

  "Meaning?"

  "No doubt the impound lot manager," Quinn said. "Probably a technician or two."

  "And security," Thad added as he checked the sharpness of the blade. "At least one officer… maybe more."

  "Local government types?" Kristin asked.

  "Private types," Thad replied with a slight headshake. "Easy enough to fool, or take out when practicable."

  "Thad—" Kristin started, but the mercenary brusquely interrupted her.

  "This isn’t all fun and games, fancy badges and computer wizardry. We have to be ready for anything. If it comes down to them or me breathing the next day, it’s me every time. I’ve no intention of dying for your cause or your money. Neither are that important to me.”

  “And what is important to you?” she countered.

  He allowed the sharpening stone one final pass down the blade. “If we make it off-world and in one piece, maybe I’ll let you know.”

  Kristin shelved that particular conversation for later. "I can take care of the yard manager… keep them nearby. That way—hopefully—they'll send the security officers out with all of you."

  Alasdair nodded. "At most, we'll have only one pair of eyes looking over our shoulders, but even that could be too many if they catch us. Stay alert. Quinn, how long to get us the access we need?"

  The Urilian let out a slow breath, leaning back and lacing his dark purple fingers behind his head. "Create enough fake IDs… hack into the impound computers to insert a couple of backdated messages about our arrival… get the codes and some paperwork for the Minerva from Athea by breaking into the bank's computers…" he was silent for a minute before responding. "Three, maybe four hours."

  Nodding, Alasdair was apparently satisfied with Quinn’s estimate. “We’ll also need some supplies.”

  Kristin withdrew a stack of credits and put them on the table. "This should help get us started with those."

  Alasdair immediately began dividing the money. "Mia, see if you can't scrounge up some technician coveralls for me, yourself, and Thad. Quinn, you'll be Kristin's aide, so get something comfortable without being too flashy. Once you're done with that, I want everyone to get some sleep. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow."

  "Yes, sir," Thad said and offered a mock saluted followed by another unsavory gesture.

  "I know, right?" Mia muttered as she got up from the table. "Who made him el jefe?"

  "Wasn't me," Quinn whispered as he too got up and stepped away.

  "And that just leaves me," Kristin said as she rubbed her hands together at the now empty table.

  Alasdair cocked an eyebrow and propped himself on the edge of the table. "And what, pray tell, are you going to do?"

  "I think I'm going to need to do some shopping of my own."

  Chapter 6

  Kristin’s hope for a discreet exit was dashed when she saw that all eyes were on her the moment she’d stepped through the doorway. Gone were the utility slacks, traction boots, and her well-worn flight jacket. In their place, she wore a conservative business suit, high-heeled shoes, and her hair had been fashioned into a cascading waterfall of brown that flowed around her shoulders. As she reached the second of three steps leading down to the street, one heel twisted the wrong way, and she nearly went end-over-end before catching herself.

  "Damn shoes," she cursed as she gripped a nearby handrail. "I hate these things."

  "But they help sell the plan," Alasdair said, offering a hand which she batted away. "You look brilliant, by the way."

  She huffed another curse before planting both feet on the ground and straitening her jacket. "Thanks."

  "Your car," he said with a theatrical wave toward the waiting vehicle. She only now noticed that in place of Alasdair’s personal but rickety vehicle, a new, all-black sedan hovered a few meters away.

  "Nice. Where did you steal it from?"

  "Why is she looking at me?" Mia asked.

  "You have to ask?" Thad responded.

  “If I’d stolen it, I’d own up to it,” she snapped at the mercenary before turning her rage on Kristin. “And you need to back off with that kind of insinuation, lady, or I’m going to—”

  "Everybody relax. Nobody stole it," Alasdair defended. "At least, it's not technically stolen."

  Kristin was unconvinced. "It's borrowed, right?"

  "Exactly. You're catching on," Alasdair said with a smile as he opened the door for her. "Ready?"

  "As I'll ever be."

  Ten minutes later, each kilometer that passed beneath the car made Kristin more nervous. She hadn't even realized she was scratching her palms. Focus. Look out
the window.

  "Try to calm down," he offered reassuringly. "It's going to be fine."

  Despite the kindness of his tone, she felt herself scowl. "I hope so. I’m uncomfortable with this sort of thing."

  "Just keep your speech even and your mannerisms self-assured. We'll handle the rest."

  She nodded briskly, then adjusted the hem of her coat for the fifth time. "Thank you, by the way."

  "What for?"

  "For last night."

  At this, both Mia and Quinn turned to look at the occupants in the backseat before returning their attentions on the road.

  When Alasdair caught Mia's eye winking at him in the rear-view, he decided to lower his voice before leaning closer to Kristin. "Well, I wasn't going to make you sleep on the couch. I do have some measure of civility, you know."

  She smiled unexpectedly, then quickly concealed it. "Not about that," she whispered back. "I mean thank you for telling everyone that I have something to contribute here. For sticking up for me."

  "You do have something to contribute here. I'm just sorry that I'm the only one to recognize it."

  When he looked into her eyes, she couldn't hide her smile any longer, and neither could he. Focus.

  “Sorry again,” he countered before fidgeting with his jacket. “For a second there, I thought I saw an old friend staring back at me.”

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, we probably have the same opinion of you.”

  “Bastard, right?” He stopped tugging at his shirt and looked back to her.

  “How’s your cheek?” she asked with actual concern.

  He thought about it for a moment. “Improving.”

  "No whispering," Mia bellowed from the driver's seat.

  When Alasdair looked into the mirror again, Mia stuck out her tongue then quickly withdrew it before laughing.

  "Stop it," Quinn scolded from beside her. "You need to be on your least unpleasant behavior for the next hour."

  "You stop it!" Mia jabbed back. "Be grateful you're here… in this nice car and not with Thad. Talk about unpleasant."