“Sounds like a plan, as well as having Jerome on the Repulsor training. They were trained up to Alpha Company standards for Warrants while everyone else slept,” Nerva said.
Harold nodded. He never met the three, but he heard enough tidbits from the lower ranks to know that there was something to them. With so few survivors from Sacremon, he thought it was just wild tales to give the troopers hope.
With Nerva and Ortiz’s backing, his interest in them rose a couple notches. He still hadn’t made a decision on them. He would have to meet them first.
“I also have it on good report that we will be leaving sooner rather than later,” Nerva said.
“So we should start getting a plan sorted out,” Ortiz said.
“Quite,” Nerva said, as he pulled three tablets from a drawer and passed one to each of them.
Ortiz let out a snort of laughter and Harold sighed, taking the tablet anyway.
Chapter 4
Westerly Three Complex
Earth, Sol System
3/3206
“So, why are we here?” Kova asked. She was the effective leader of the greenhouses in the area, and linked to a number of others. She was the one that Mark and his group needed to convince.
She devoted her life to caring and growing the plants of her greenhouses. It was easy to tell since dirt was on her hands, and she had an earthy smell to her.
“My friends have a proposition for you, for all of you - one that could open a whole new door for the greenhouses on Earth,” Quentin said, as he looked to all the gardeners in the room. They looked skeptical, but Quentin had built up his reputation of being a fair businessman.
They would hear him out.
“Very well, let’s hear this growing miracle,” Kova said impatiently. She wanted to get back to looking over the results of her Ph testing on the soil sample from Sector five’s greenhouse.
“Come in,” Quentin said into a comm unit. Kova was getting annoyed with all this smoke and mirrors shit.
A big bastard walked in. His eyes swept the group in front of him, and assessed them in a way she hadn’t felt since she left her orphanage decades ago. The other shorter man did the same.
Their hands were down at their sides but ready. The dusters were open, and she could see the smart clothes underneath.
“What is the EMF doing here?” she asked.
“This is Mark Victor and Jerome Gomez. I guess I’ll leave this to them,” Quentin said, as he pointed to each before he sat back in his seat.
“Thanks. First, if any of this is breathed to anyone in the EMF or outside of the greenhouses, we will make sure it is the last thing you say,” Mark said, as his eyes looked over everyone to make sure the threat settled in.
People shifted uncomfortably and Mark nodded.
“Good, now this,” he said as he pulled out a data chip and put it on the table, activated it and pulled data from it, “is the holy grail of farming. I’ll give you five minutes to check it over and then we’ll continue talking.”
Kova was annoyed, but she pulled the files over to her side of the table and started opening them.
Holy shit on a stick. She wasn’t normally a person to swear, but it was hard not to as she went through the information.
The information contained in the book was decades of research. The implications of such processes could have dramatic effects on growing production as a whole.
The file suddenly disappeared to the annoyed sounds around the table.
“Looks like we have your attention then,” Mark said, as a smile formed on his and Jerome’s face.
“Where did you get this from?” Kova asked.
“Sacremon, the growing planet,” Jerome answered, as he stepped up to the table and grabbed something from his cargo pocket.
“We also got these.” He pulled out a bag of seeds and put them on the table.
“What are those?” Kova asked, as she took a point for the greenhouse managers.
“These are genetically modified seeds for trees and plants that have ten to twenty times the yield of our current seeds. The ones that form into trees take time. Though when they’re fully formed, they provide multiple kinds of fruits, grains, nuts and beans,” he said.
Kova’s hands itched to grab them, to plant them with care and see them grow.
“Even if what you say is true, it will take decades for them to grow,” she said.
She knew the expense for all of this was incalculable, and she needed to haggle them down.
“That’s where this will help out,” Mark said, shaking the data chip. “This will help you to grow the trees within the space of months, not years.”
“So what do you want?” asked Sasha, another greenhouse manager.
“A tithe of all the profits you make from these resources, your backing, and management when we need it and to spread this knowledge across Earth,” Mark said.
“How much of a tithe?” Kova asked.
“Fifteen percent,” Jerome answered firmly.
She winced on the inside. These might have been slum boys at one time, but now they were troopers. Once they named a price in that tone, haggling was gone.
“It’s not much when you think about the fact that you will have an increased profit margin of at least seventy percent,” Mark said.
“What is the management thing all about?” Sasha asked.
Quentin raised his hand. “I think I can take this one, boys,” he said. Mark and Jerome nodded.
“These boys are going to be travelling across the stars for possibly a few hundred years. When they come back, there might not be a Westerly three complex and all of us will be long dead. With their investment, they are gaining assurances. They can pass messages to the greenhouses, who can send their orders out to their other industries that they’re controlling,” Quentin said.
Mark’s face had gone tight as he avoided looking at Quentin.
This might be the last time he sees Quentin or any of us, Kova thought. For once, her heart went out to the young man. She studied him harder than before, and saw the scars on his neck that traveled under his smart clothes. There were more on his hands and face. Jerome had a scar running through his hairline, with scars on his hands and neck as well. They grew up on Earth, and became men in battle.
“What’s to say our later generations won’t betray them? Or run away with their money?” Kova asked.
“If they do, then we will take back our assets. There is an EMF station right above Earth, and troopers look out for one another,” Mark said, with quiet violence in his voice.
Kova thought on the deal, and looked for any major issues. As long as her people abided by the rules, then everything would be okay.
Plus we get all that information on farming! And those trees!
“On behalf of my greenhouses, I accept,” Kova said.
Mark nodded to her, and slid the data chip across the tables surface. Jerome took a cylindrical storage device and rolled it over the table. She grabbed it and looked inside. There were hundreds of seeds in different sections.
A contract appeared on the surface of the table. Jerome and Mark’s finger prints were already locked into it.
“Please finger print this. Every successor you will have will also need to do the same, to ensure there are no leaks,” Quentin said.
Kova looked over the simple one-page document. There was nothing in addition to what Mark and Jerome said.
She put her thumb on the surface, and a light flashed over it. The contract was returned to Mark and Jerome.
“Good doing business with you Ms. Kova,” Mark said, as a smile came to both his and Jerome’s lips.
***
“Mister Costa, it’s good to see you,” Jerome said with a wide smile on his face, as he entered the conference room and moved to the aged looking man. He was about twenty when Jerome left, and he was one of the foremen at the shipping center he worked for.
“Jerome, my god, boy,” Costa said. His eyes teared up at the
sight of him. He grasped him from his seat. They hugged and pulled apart.
“Oh god it’s been so long,” Costa said. The tears in his eyes welled as he thought of the years that had gone by. His memories of a life - so far in the past - felt as if it was a different one from his own.
“Yes it has,” Jerome said, as he pictured the strong, healthy and fit Costa he once knew. It was hard to be met with the physicality of how long he was away.
Costa got himself under control, his eyes still damp with the past. “So Mister Quentin says that you were looking for me for something?” Costa asked.
“I’ve come into a bit of money, and I want to invest it into the ship building industry,” Jerome said.
“Don’t aim high, do you,” Costa whistled, chuckling. “You’re not going to get much for the few hundred credits you get as a trooper,” he added apologetically.
Jerome looked to Mark who nodded, and took a seat. Quentin grabbed cigars and left them to talk, as they did their own reminiscing.
“We have closer to eleven million,” Jerome said.
“That’s a good one!” Costa laughed for a few moments. The laughter diminished in his throat as he started to understand Jerome’s look.
“You aren’t kidding. Damn,” Costa said, as he stroked his beard in thought. “So what were you planning?”
“We want to start building ships, then lease them out to people in-system. We’ll be getting more money later on to increase its size. Eventually, we want to build freighters. The biggest in existence,” Jerome said, as his eyes lit up with boyish dreaming. Some of it infected Costa’s own eyes.
He used the table top, sent a few messages, and checked out some back channel areas of the net that dealt with large scale deals.
He started to walk Jerome through the different things he would need. There were the various contracts and such, overhead costs, the status of yards and factories to contract out, or to buy in.
They talked about different things for the rest of the day. Mark and Quentin left at some point, and food was ushered into the room as Jerome and Costa saw to building a space-going empire.
Jerome sent Mark a message in the early hours of the next day.
They figured out three prospecting yards that they could buy and control. They had a shuttle ride set up in a few hours.
Costa and Jerome found some drinks, and reminisced about a life that seemed so long ago. Costa had three grandkids now. He lived a healthy and long damned life.
Jerome told him as little about the EMF as possible. He didn’t want to trouble the old man with the issues of war and survival.
Chapter 5
Abandoned yard 3217A
Sector 12 of Kuiper Belt, Sol System
3/3206
“This is yard three-two-one-seven,” the chipper pilot and wholesaler Dill said.
A human pickle, awesome. Mark kept his thoughts to himself as he looked out of the shuttle on the massive view screens. They weren’t the small-low expense things of Combat Shuttles. Costa was looking at everything and anything. It was a rare treat to leave Earth’s orbit in a shuttle. His three grandkids were similarly jumping and hopping around.
Mark sat in the seat next to Dill, looking over the information slate. There were a lot of blank areas on yard three-two-one-seven’s various structures. The previous owners didn’t declare what many of their additions did, before running away and defaulting on their power-plant dues.
Mark spent the nights training with Nerva to read up on different yards. There were four things going for the yard. It wasn’t too far off of the main shipping routes. It was in the asteroid belt with plenty of resources nearby, and it looked to have everything they needed.
“Why are there so many unknowns about this yard?” Mark asked.
“When the evaluators look over a yard, they look to make sure that it has the basics, then they pass it off to us for a sale,” Dill said.
Dill worked for one of the massive fuel suppliers in the system. When Mark signed the contract, he would get a twenty percent reduction if he went with their company as the sole fuel supplier. It was a very lucrative contract for the fuel companies, and one of the reasons that not many people survived with anything that needed that fuel.
If Mark could grab this yard without the contract, it would take all of his and Jerome’s combined wealth, and put them in debt at about a million apiece. Though, they could then have fuel companies competing for a much reduced contract.
They came onto the station, and Mark and Tyler pulled their dusters off and put their helmets on. They sealed them, and checked one another before they checked Costa and all of the grandkids. They were teenagers, and Costa drilled into them that they would die if they didn’t do as the adults said.
They were good with their drills, and it only took about ten minutes before they were ready to get off the shuttle.
The ramp lowered, and Mark and Jerome went first. Their boots clamped to the metal of the yard as they walked. Their sensors were cranked up to full on their helmets as they gathered information.
“The yard can make ships from regular shuttles to inner-system freighters. The dimensions of the single yard are seven hundred meters long by one hundred and fifty radius. There is a fabrication factory, living quarters and berths for five shuttles and three freighters. There is one known smelter, and there are cranes and mobile equipment,” Dill rattled on, as he led them through the immense structure. It was eerily quiet and dead. The structural beams shone as they caught light. Rust never found their shining surfaces.
They walked through, the decompressed living spaces still had some of the last owners’ effects floating around. They moved through, up to the control office, that looked across the yard. The cylindrical dock rested in the middle, it’s skeletal beams wrapping around nothing. To the right, there was the smelter, then factory next to the living quarters. The freighter docking points were there to offload resources. The power plants were also housed there. To the left of the living quarters and command center, there was the shuttle landing pads.
Mark pulled a power supply from his pocket.
“Mind if I boot up some of these computers?” Mark asked, as he looked to the command deck.
“Go right ahead, I believe there is an external power port around here somewhere,” Dill said.
Jerome moved to a console, opening a panel. “Yup, here it is.”
Mark moved to it, and plugged in the battery. The kids milled around the windows, taking everything in.
The electronics powered up in vacuum silence, and their screens lit up Mark’s helmet as he bent over the main table that depicted the entire station. Jerome joined him. Costa looked over the kids.
Mark opened up a private channel with Jerome.
“Are those what I think they are?” Mark asked, as he pointed to several symbols at the side of the table. Jerome looked to make sure that Dill wasn’t too interested in what they were doing. He pulled the map down, and looked at the symbols.
“Well shit, looks like they were trying to build a second much larger berth, plus…” He slid the map again in another direction.
“They had all of these miners and refiners,” Jerome whistled in his helmet. Mark pushed the map back to focus on the station.
“Dill, what is the power plant situation?” Mark asked.
“There are five reactors listed for this site. They will get a full evaluation before start-up and be refueled for you by the Enerport corporation, free of charge with the sale,” Dill rattled off like a good sales rep, complete with a brilliant smile.
“Damn, that’s pretty good, thanks!” Mark said, faking his excitement. He knew all too well that after the first charge, Enerport would be on them like white on rice.
He used his implants to connect to the computers, and opened up the logs for fuel consumption. The station didn’t have five reactors - it had eight for the added miners stuck to the asteroids. That’s what killed the last station.
He broug
ht up the prices on refined materials. An idea was forming in his head.
“It’s going to take a year or two, but if we get this station, we can survive if we mine our damned hearts out for the first few years of operation and make just a single freighter. Then we use the freighter to transport the refined materials, get more revenue. We also get the already-made parts of the second yard attached. Use the mines to support our ships, then start selling them. I don’t know the numbers, but if we keep increasing mining so that we can support ourselves and keep selling the resources out, we should be set to build this thing up,” Mark said excitedly.
“You might have a plan there,” Jerome said.
“We still need to check out the other yards. That way, we can maybe get Dill to go down on the price,” Mark said.
“Ahh, I knew there was a sly slum dealer in there,” Jerome laughed. “Though, I think it might be best if we let Costa have a crack at it. He’s probably the best heckler I know.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Mark answered.
Chapter 6
Resolute station
Earth, Sol System
3/3206
Mark walked through Resolute station. The EMF’s troopers and personnel moved with purpose, or lounged around on their free time. He felt tension that he hadn’t realized was there as he walked to the cafeteria. Mark and Jerome arrived at the station first. Reclaimer’s equipment was getting changed out. It seemed that the higher-ups were throwing everything at the crew, and troopers, to see if they could make them better.
He and Jerome took their meal trays and headed to their seats. One stripe rested over a single dot on their arm. It signalled their rank as Master Corporals to whoever looked at them.
“It’s odd you know,” Mark said. His comment made Jerome look up from his food.
“What is?” Jerome asked.
“This feels normal now - more normal than being on Earth, and going through the slums and dust while wearing goggles and facemasks,” Mark said.
“That was what you wanted to say?” Jerome said. He looked irritated as he dug into his food with annoyed scoops.
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