“I don’t get the impression that you are calmly content and glad to have the option to have us available,” the Augment replied. “In the absence of a technological solution, men like you are the only tool we have to tie humanity together. I admire and appreciate Jump Mages like you.”
“Working as a Mage-killer is a great way to show that appreciation.”
Niska shook his head. “It is not my job to kill Mages,” he said sharply. “My job is to arrest Mages who break the laws of the Legatus system.”
“Which is basically breathing on the surface, so far as I can tell,” Damien replied.
“To an extent,” the cop admitted. “Don’t make the mistake of assuming that we hate Mages, though. I won’t deny that prejudice exists, but it’s not the reason for those laws.”
Damien sighed and leaned back, looking at the Augment who seemed determined to convince him of something.
“And why, exactly, would my setting foot on Legatus be a crime then?” he asked after a moment. Partly, he was humoring the man. But part of him was curious too – he’d always wondered how exactly the UnArcana worlds had come into being.
“Because if you set foot on Legatus, you are not subject to our laws,” Niska explained. “We were not allowed to opt out of the Compact, so any crime you commit on Legatus has to be tried by Mages. You have separate rights and privileges from anyone else.
“Our ancestors weren’t prepared to allow the master race the Eugenicists had built to rule over them,” he continued. “The Mage-King told them that they had to accept the Compact, or the jumpships wouldn’t carry cargo to Legatus. They agreed – but then barred Mages from their worlds to render the Compact meaningless.”
Damien shivered at the mention of the Eugenicists. The group had taken control of the Mars colony centuries before, and then subjected the population to strict breeding controls and restrictions. Earth had tried and failed to stop them for decades.
“I’m a Mage by Right, not by Blood,” he pointed out. “My ancestors didn’t come out of the Olympus Project.”
“There’s been a lot of research on the Mages by Right that suggests that the vast majority of them can trace their ancestry back to the lucky rejects of the Project,” Niska replied.
The ‘Olympus Project’ had been a massive, bloody-handed, forced-breeding program of individuals who tested as ‘gifted’ to a number of tests the Eugenicists had developed. It took them eighty years, but they succeeded in creating the modern Mage. Along the way, they’d dumped a few tens of thousands of ‘lucky rejects’ into the general population – and were estimated to have murdered almost a hundred thousand older subjects once they’d been bred.
In the end, the Eugenicists had been destroyed by their own creations, led by the man who became the first Mage-King of Mars. He had, in turn, imposed the Compact to protect the other Mages from those who feared the Eugenicists’ creation. In exchange for that protection, the Mages had agreed to serve – most importantly as the Jump Mages that carried man’s colonies to the stars.
“So we are all to be tarred with the brush of the Eugenicists then?” Damien asked. “Even those descended from those who, arguably, suffered worst?”
“When Legatus was founded, it was seen that placing the Mages as a ruling caste over us would be allowing the Eugenicists to win – accepting the master race they’d built. Now,” Niska shrugged. “Now it’s about not wanting to have a separate privileged caste imposed on us from outside. And a certain degree of stubborn pride in doing things our way.”
“As one of the people caught in the gears of your ‘stubborn pride,’ I can’t say I’m enthused,” Damien pointed out. “Seems to be more about prejudice than anything else.”
“I already said I don’t deny that,” Niska replied, shrugging uncomfortably. “I don’t like it – personally, I think there would be grounds for compromise with the Compact and the Mage-King at this point. The Legatus Legislature wouldn’t stand for it now, though, and too many worlds have followed our example.
“Regardless of that, though,” the Augment continued, “I’m supposed to be providing security for this ship, which means I need to work with you. I wanted to clear the air between us, as I know the reputation Augments have with Mages. Are you okay with us assigning a sentry to the simulacrum chamber?”
Damien sighed. “I see the logic,” he admitted. “If they cause trouble though…”
“If they cause you trouble, let me know, and you won’t see that agent again,” Niska said flatly. “You are under our protection, and I will not stand for my people being rude. We clear?”
The youth nodded, taken aback at the fierceness of the soldier’s declaration.
“We’re clear.”
#
Mikhail Azure watched the bounty hunter pass through the outer office of his establishment with the security cameras. The man was one of Azure’s favored mercenaries, though he had twice turned down membership in the Blue Star Syndicate.
If he succeeded at the mission he was currently set upon, Azure would offer again. If he declined again, more permanent measures would have to be taken. Azure appreciated the man’s skill, but could also not allow that skill to be used against the Syndicate.
After five minutes of back and forth with the secretary, she reached down under her desk and hit a button that didn’t appear to be connected to her phone.
“Sir, there is a Mr. Able here to see you,” she said through the intercom. “His pass-phrases are valid.”
“Thank you Meryl,” Azure replied. “Please send him back.”
Azure leaned back in his unprepossessing chair and glanced at the door to his office. It was an unassuming office – officially that of a small, utterly average, trading house – tucked away in a secondary orbital station above a moderately advanced MidWorld. Nothing about it stood out, but the Protectorate’s law enforcement would collectively trade their right hand for its location.
From this plain office, Mikhail Azure – not the name he’d been born with – ran the largest criminal syndicate in the Protectorate. He’d once planned to pass that enterprise onto his son, but David Rice of the Blue Jay had changed that.
He hoped Able had good news.
The bounty hunter, a slim man of average height, with average brown hair and calm blue eyes, entered the office with his eyes tracking around for any possible threat. None of the defenses were visible, and the deadliest sat behind the desk.
“I do not see the Blue Jay docked at my station,” Azure said calmly. “You have brought neither a prisoner nor a corpse before me. If you are not delivering David Rice to me, Able, why are you here?”
“It seemed an appropriate time to check in,” the bounty hunter replied, his voice equally calm. “I know where the Jay will be next and I had a question I needed answered.”
“And what, Able, do you know that no other who was in the same system as them wouldn’t?”
The hunter laughed.
“I know that the Blue Jay was hired by Bryan Ricket, of LMID,” he answered. “That means whatever flight path they filed is exactly where the Captain thinks he’s going – and nowhere near where they actually are headed. Ricket couldn’t think in a straight line if his life depended on it. So I asked the right people, and now I know what even Rice doesn’t: where he’s going. They’ve only got the one Mage,” Able concluded, “so I will beat them there.”
Azure held the mercenary’s gaze flatly. He knew from long experience that his own ice-cold blue eyes, the only part of him he never changed when he modified his face and body to hide from the law, could intimidate the strongest of men.
“I see,” he acknowledged. “But I do not see why you are here?”
Able shrugged. “The job was for Rice,” he said. “But with what rumor says was done to his ship, I have to ask – do you want it too?”
Azure considered.
“What rumors have you heard?” he asked. Many different stories had made their way to him from Sherwood and Corinth
ian. He knew that Rice’s new Mage had been charged with illegally modifying a jump matrix, but that the ship continued to jump without issue.
“Rumor says that the Blue Jay took out a pirate near Sherwood,” Able answered. “Says that it was an amplified attack spell – something a freighter shouldn’t be able to do. And then Montgomery was charged with modifying the jump matrix – but the ship can still jump.
“I think he gave the Jay an amplifier,” Able concluded. “And I think that’s worth even more to you than Rice.”
“You dare much, if you plan on telling me what I think,” Azure snapped. It was almost automatic though, as he thought over Able’s words. If the hunter was right – and it fit with what he knew – the Blue Jay now represented the prize of the century.
“I don’t think it’s a stretch that the ability to turn any freighter you get your hands on into a raider to give the Navy nightmares is of value to you,” Able replied. “But if it’s not,” he shrugged, “I’ll go back to the old plan of blowing the ship apart from the longest range I can and extracting Rice’s flash-frozen corpse from the wreckage.”
The bounty hunter turned to go, but Azure froze him in place with a gesture and a flick of power. The criminal overlord rose from behind his desk and crossed to the mercenary, walking around to face the man he’d frozen in place before releasing him.
“You are correct, so you will do nothing of the sort,” he told Able, watching as the bounty hunter quailed away from him. “Bring me Rice – dead or alive. Bring me Montgomery - alive. Bring me their ship - intact. Do this, and I will pay you ten times what you were promised for Rice. Deal?”
Able swallowed, slowly straightening to face his employer. “Deal.”
“What’s your plan?” Azure demanded. The hunter seemed to consider refusing for a moment, then shrugged.
“Ricket is having them deliver gunships to Chrysanthemum,” he explained. “I have friends in their security apparatus, and they’ll leap at the chance to bring in a Mage the Protectorate wants arrested. While they’re on planet dealing with that, I’ll seize the ship. If I tell the Chrysanthemumites I’m delivering them to the Protectorate, they’ll turn Montgomery and Rice over, and I’ll hop, skip and jump right back here.”
“Easy money for you then,” Azure observed. “Don’t fuck it up.” He gestured to the door.
Able stumbled from the room, and the Blue Star crime lord watched him go. Once the bounty hunter had left the office, he re-activated the intercom to Meryl.
“Meryl, contact Captain Shepard,” he instructed calmly. “He is to prepare my yacht for an immediate trip.
“Then arrange for a runic transceiver message to be sent to Echelon, to our Mr. Wong. He is to have his people prepare the Azure Gauntlet for action.”
“You expect Able to fail.” It wasn’t a question.
“I do not place great faith in his success, no,” Azure confirmed. “And if he fails, no lesser force than my Gauntlet will succeed.”
#
“Jump complete, Captain,” Damien reported over the intercom. David glanced at the screens on the Blue Jay’s bridge slowly resolving their new location.
“Everything is looking clear up here Damien, we’re bang on target,” he told the young Mage. “Next jump on schedule?”
“I need a nap,” Damien replied, yawning. “After that, I think so. Will let you know if I need a delay. I’m out.”
The com channel to the simulacrum chamber closed, and David turned back to checking their course. They were four days – two of flight inside Legatus and two of jumping - and six jumps out from Legatus. Like most stopping points along the way for interstellar travel, there was absolutely nothing around them for light years in any direction.
“The jump is complete?” Niska asked, the Augment entering the room behind David. “How far out are we now?”
“I’ve never met a Mage trained to jump anything other than a light year, Major Niska,” David pointed out, turning back to face the cyborg. “I imagine you are perfectly capable of doing the math.”
The iron-haired soldier smiled tightly, and then turned to his men outside the bridge.
“Seal the bridge,” he ordered flatly. “Miller will see Montgomery up here. No one else enters or leaves till I give the all clear.”
The bridge door slid shut behind him as he stepped in, to David and Jenna’s stares of shock. For the first time since he’d boarded the ship, the Augment Major was visibly armed, with a massive black block of a pistol slung on his hip.
“What’s going on?” David demanded, starting to rise.
“Please stay seated, Captain,” Niska instructed. “No harm will come to you, but certain matters should be discussed in confidence. I will explain once Mage Montgomery arrives.”
The Major leaned against the wall next to the door, watching David and Jenna with his strange eyes. The bridge was silent for a long few minutes, until the door slid open again and Damien walked in.
“What’s going on, Captain?” he asked. “One of the Augments said you wanted to see me? Why are they passing on your messages?”
“I apologize for the deception,” Niska answered, stepping in behind Damien and closing the door. “I needed to speak to you three alone, with the rest of the ship in the dark for the moment.”
“Now that Damien is here, can you please explain why the hell you’ve locked me on my own bridge?” David demanded. On his console, he’d brought up a series of commands that would lock the Legatan crews in their quarters, slam down barricades to split up the Augments, and order Singh to break out the Exosuit and the guns.
“Vice-Director Ricket did not explain all the details of this contract with complete honesty,” Niska replied calmly. “We are not making this delivery to Mercedes.”
“Are you hijacking my ship?” David asked, his hand hovering over the activate command.
“No,” the Augment replied cheerfully. He tossed a datachip to Jenna. “You’ll find the details of your new course on there. You will also find, if you review your contract, that you are subject to non-discretionary revisions such as this on the authority of an appropriately authorized officer of the Directorate – in this case, me.”
David released the activate command, sighing as he faced the soldier.
“And just where do you want us to take these ships?”
“Chrysanthemum,” Niska answered.
“No,” the Captain replied flatly. Chrysanthemum was one of the worst of the UnArcana worlds – a Fringe system notorious for finding any fault they could with the Mages coming through, and for running a military junta as a government. “I agreed to deliver to a civilized planet, not a Fringe hell-hole.”
“Your contract allows…”
“That clause is unenforceable, and we both know it,” David interrupted.
“Yes,” Niska agreed. “However, you would have to take us to court in a Protectorate system – a place that you have even less interest than us in ending up.”
“So if we deliver to Mercedes, you won’t honor the contract?”
“As the contract has now changed, we would not feel obligated to reimburse you for delivering to the incorrect system,” the LMID soldier replied. “That said, I am authorized to expand your remuneration if you do deliver to Chrysanthemum. As you pointed out so eloquently, the risk profile is significantly different.”
David cursed himself for ever taking a job from a Military Intelligence unit. Throwing the whole lot out of the airlock was tempting, but he wasn’t entirely sure that being vented into deep space would actually kill Niska and the other Augments.
“How much?” he grated out.
“I am authorized to double your compensation,” Niska offered.
Doubling their compensation would bring this job to ten times their normal rate for a delivery of this scale. It would easily set them up for the Fringe run that would keep them safe.
“That’s… almost worth it,” he said bluntly. “If this contract had been openly prese
nted as such, I would likely have accepted it. Why the cloak and dagger?”
Niska seemed to relax slightly.
“Among Chrysanthemum’s longest-standing issues is a conflict with one of the large interstellar corporations from the Core,” he explained. “They worry, not entirely without precedent, that the corporation will use mercenaries – or possibly even outright Navy pressure – to force them to change their stance in certain negotiations.
“In exchange for certain contracts, promises, and domestic reforms, my government is providing them Group Commander Mons’ ships and crews at a token price. But we want to keep both that Chrysanthemum is arming, and that we are engaging in such a charity case, very quiet. Mercedes could buy the gunships, so we officially declare they are being shipped there. We re-direct now, light years from anywhere, and no one is the wiser.”
“And if someone does try and force Chrysanthemum, they run into a gunship squadron that shouldn’t be there,” Damien observed quietly.
“Yes,” Niska confirmed. “And since the core crew is Legatan, there is also an increased pressure on the Chrysanthemum government to keep their promises of internal reform. They’ve been giving the UnArcana worlds a bad name recently.”
“No one is going to argue with that,” David agreed. He sighed, and turned to Damien. “Once you’ve had a chance to rest, start plotting a new course. It looks like we’re visiting Chrysanthemum.”
#
“Welcome to Chrysanthemum, left butt cheek of the universe,” Jenna announced as the system resolved around them. Two weeks of jumping with the gunship crews and augments had started to grate on the Blue Jay’s crew – the ship wasn’t that big, and an extra hundred and ten bodies filled up the space on the Ribs more than anyone was used to.
Chrysanthemum was a six planet system wrapped around an old but unchanging K-class red dwarf. The outer three planets were gas giants, with the second planet easily habitable with a workable biosphere.
“I’m reading one station orbiting the fourth planet,” Jenna reported. “Maybe a dozen in-system ships shuttling back and forth between the station and Chrysanthemum, nothing over a couple hundred thousand tons and some change.”
Starship's Mage: Omnibus: (Starship's Mage Book 1) Page 19
