Kill Shot: A Remnant of the Commonwealth, Book Two

by Williams, Christopher

  During the nightshift, the bridge was empty. There really wasn’t any need for anyone to sit there and watch the computers. The ship’s computer was more than capable of monitoring the ship and letting the crew know if something was wrong.

  They did alter the schedule slightly. They had been adjusting ship’s time to be in sync with the main spaceport on Sargas and now found themselves headed to Redamor. It turned out that the spaceport on Redamor was ten hours behind the spaceport on Sargas. It took a bit of getting used to, but the human body was quick to adjust.

  Still, it was relief on all of them when they emerged from the wormhole and looked out over the Redamor system.

  Chapter 11

  The Redamor primary was an unremarkable yellow star. It was still a good distance away but it already took up a large portion of the front canopy.

  Although referred to as Redamor, the only habitable planet in the system was Redamor IV. There also were a couple of gas giants and four smaller planets that were basically large rocks floating in space.

  Redamor was a member of a loose trade federation of nearly fifty worlds called the TF Federation. Each planet was self-governed, but the federation regulated the trade between the worlds. The federation also was a self-defense pact. Attacking one world was viewed as an attack on all fifty planets.

  Aaron only spent a moment gazing at the system before he turned to Susan. “Contact the comm satellites and check for any messages.”

  There really wasn’t any reason to manually check with the satellite because as soon as they exited the wormhole, the ship should start broadcasting its ID. The satellite should automatically check it against any messages in the queue. His command had been more out of impatience than necessity.

  “There’s a message, all right,” Susan said a moment later. She looked up from the console to find Aaron, Adam, and Russell watching her.

  “Audio only, or do we have video this time?” Aaron asked.

  “Neither,” Susan replied, “it’s text. It says The Old Spacer’s Cantina at noon.”

  “That’s it?” Aaron demanded. He glanced at the clock that was above the consoles on the left side of the bridge. They had just under four hours to get there. It sounded like a lot of time, but in reality they would be hard-pressed to make it. It would take them most of that time just to get the ship on the ground. He had no idea how long it would take to find this cantina.

  “Adam, get us on the ground as fast as you can,” Aaron said. He then looked at Susan. “I want you to accompany me to the cantina.”

  “Of course.” It was an obvious choice. Whenever negotiations were going on, it was always good to have a telepath on your side.

  “What about me?” Russell asked.

  Aaron shook his head. “I want you and Grady to make sure Eric and Thomas get their stuff and leave. I don’t want them taking anything that belongs to the ship. Got it?”

  “Sure,” Russell replied.

  “Here,” Aaron said, and tossed a credit voucher to Russell. A moment later he tossed a second one. Russell caught them both and looked blankly at them. “Give that to Eric and Russell. It’s their share of the profit from our run to Bathia.”

  “Probably don’t have to give them this after what they did,” Russell said.

  “I know,” Aaron agreed, “but just tell them to take it and go.” He expected that the two men would be rather angry once they were away from the ship. He hoped giving them their credits would make them disappear. Most likely they would spend the next couple of weeks drunk and in the company of whores. Aaron didn’t much care what they did as long as they didn’t cause trouble for him or the crew.

  The vibration in the hull changed as Adam engaged the engines and the ship began its quick trip to the fourth planet.

  “Another thing,” Aaron said, still speaking to Russell. “I want you armed. Stay alert and don’t let either man get the drop on you.”

  Russell smiled. “They won’t try anything with Grady there with me.”

  Aaron and Susan were waiting next to the crew exit when the ship set down. The ship had barely come to a halt when he popped the hatch. The roar of the engines was just beginning to quiet down, and the sound was still nearly deafening.

  The steps descended and Aaron took them two at a time. He reached the bottom and paused, looking around. He half-expected to see customs officials waiting for them, but there were none in sight.

  Redamor’s spaceport was made up of a large number of small landing bays. Each bay was surrounded by a ten-foot concrete wall that only had one entrance: a large steel gate nearly twelve feet wide. The bays were different sizes to handle all the different-sized ships.

  The gate to their bay was currently closed. Aaron jogged over to it and entered the code that Port Control had given them. The gate split in the middle and both sides slid back along the walls. A man stood just outside the gate. Aaron recognized him but had not expected to see him here.

  “Xim?” he asked in confusion. He hadn’t seen Xim in several months. Xim was an enforcer for Sebastian Locke, probably here acting as Locke’s bodyguard. The man was an excellent fighter. Xim had a rather striking appearance. He was completely bald and had scars and tattoos entwined on his arms.

  The first time they had met, Locke had sent Xim to find Aaron and bring him in for a chat. Aaron had refused and they had fought in the street. It was probably one of the few fights Xim had lost in a long time.

  A smile twisted the corners of Xim’s mouth. “Locke sent me to bring you to him,” he said. “You’re late though, so we’d better hurry.” He turned and started walking away, pausing once and looking back. “You coming or not?”

  Aaron and Susan hurried after Xim.

  “I was expecting customs officials to be waiting on us,” Aaron said, catching up to Xim.

  “Congratulations, you’ve already passed the customs inspection,” Xim said. He glanced back over his shoulder without slowing and once again, his lips were twisting into that smile.

  Realization slowly dawned on Aaron. Locke must have bribed the customs officials to pass them. Undoubtedly Locke realized the ship was running late and was trying to help. It was a risky move though.

  “How far is this cantina?” Susan asked.

  “Just inside the port’s main gate,” Xim said. “It’s not far.”

  They walked the rest of the way in silence. Xim was never much for talking, and Aaron didn’t want to ask a bunch of questions that Xim would probably just refuse to answer anyway.

  It took fifteen minutes to reach the spaceport’s main exit. The main street on this side of the port’s walls was lined with bars, brothels, and outfitters; it was a very common setup for spaceports. Most planets viewed the spaceport as separate from the rest of the planet; it was almost like a foreign embassy in that different laws applied there. The host planet was in charge in enforcing the law, but barring a major law infraction they tended to leave the spacers alone. That ended at the port’s walls though. If a person left through the gates they had better know the planet’s laws. Few places showed any mercy based solely on the I’m a spacer and I didn’t know better excuse.

  The Old Spacer’s Cantina was a small, non-descript looking establishment. It wasn’t the most elegant of bars by any means, but neither was it the most rundown either. A covered sidewalk ran along the front of the building. There were two windows that he couldn’t see through and the single metal door. All in all, the outside wasn’t very impressive, but that wasn’t a bad thing. This looked like the kind of place that Aaron would feel right at home in.

  Xim stepped up to the door and it slid open automatically. Aaron and Susan followed him through.

  The room beyond was dark and there was a low hum of talk. It took a moment for Aaron’s eyes to adjust to the gloom. The room was maybe half full and judging by the patrons’ attire, he had misjudged the place. Most of the patrons looked to be spacers, but they weren’t ordinary crewmen. He guessed many of them to be captains or senior
officers. The room wasn’t exactly classy, but there a bit of refinement that surprised him. There was a long bar that ran along the left side of the room, and there was maybe twenty or so tables scattered across the floor. The right side of the room was lined with high-backed booths.

  Aaron had paused just inside the door and hurried to catch up with Xim and Susan.

  Xim led them around the right side of the room. At first, Aaron assumed they were heading for one of the booths, but Xim walked right past them. He led them to a door in the back corner of the room. This door didn’t open at his approach. Instead, he had to type in a seven-digit code on a small keypad on the wall. The door slid open and he stepped through.

  Aaron and Susan followed Xim into a long, narrow room that appeared to be used for special parties. The lighting was better and a single, long table that was surrounded by chairs occupied the vast majority of the room. Two people sat on the far side of the table.

  The closer of the two was a woman. Her long black hair hung past her shoulders and it was striking against her pale skin. She was attractive but rather rough looking.

  Aaron had met her before. After his initial encounter with Xim had led to a fight in the street, Aaron had won and then tried to flee; this woman, Lela, had been there to shoot him with a stun gun. He hadn’t dealt with her at all since then.

  The second person sitting at the table was Sebastian Locke. He was in his early fifties, in good shape, and rugged looking. His short, black hair was unkempt and it had been several days since he had shaved. His eyes were intense, and he didn’t blink much; it gave the impression that he was looking into a person’s soul.

  They had first met Locke on Beta Leporis and had worked for him briefly. In actuality, Charles Morgan was the boss, but as he was an industrialist, he couldn’t be the face of a major criminal organization. So, Morgan had hired Locke to be the “leader,” but there was no doubt that Morgan was in charge.

  Locke smiled as they entered the room and climbed to his feet. He was still on the far side of the table, but he leaned across to shake hands with Aaron. “Glad you made it. I’m in desperate need of someone with your talents.” He waved his hands at the three or four bottles on the table. “Pour yourself a drink and then we can discuss the business that brought you here.”

  Aaron and Susan sat down across from Locke. Susan poured herself a small glass of wine, and Aaron helped himself to a double of scotch.

  Locke turned and glanced to his left, where Lela sat. “You and Xim wait outside.”

  There was a momentary look of surprise on Lela’s face, but it was gone quickly. She stood and glanced at Aaron before looking back to Locke. “Just let us know if you need anything.” On her way out of the room, she shot an angry look Aaron’s way.

  Aaron watched her go then turned back to Locke who, like Aaron, seemed to be enjoying the whiskey.

  “I’m really glad you made it, and I hope you’ll help me,” Locke said as soon as the door closed behind Xim and Lela.

  Aaron was a bit taken aback. He had assumed that Locke had another smuggling job for him, but this sounded personal. He sneaked a look at Susan, but she was watching Locke intently.

  “What is it you need?” Aaron asked.

  “I want you to kill a man for me,” Locke said quietly.

  Chapter 12

  Russell stopped outside Grady’s cabin and rang the buzzer. Dealing with the large reptilian alien always made him nervous. It was purely based on Grady’s appearance because he had never given the crew any reason to doubt him. Forcing those thoughts aside, Russell tried to look normal.

  The door slid open and a wave of heat slapped Russell in the face. He recoiled and took several steps backward. “What the hell?” It felt like the room was on fire.

  Grady stood in the open doorway grinning.

  Russell wished he wouldn’t do that, as Grady’s grin showed a mouth full of sharp teeth.

  Grady was humanoid with dark green scales. He was tall, nearly seven feet, and had something akin to hair. It wasn’t hair, of course, but some type of long scales that hung nearly to his shoulders, kind of like dreadlocks.

  “Yes?” Grady asked. He spoke slowly as the words were difficult for his anatomy; it gave his words a drawl.

  Russell could still feel the heat billowing out of Grady’s room and he wanted to back up another step. He chose to remain where he was, afraid that Grady might misinterpret the movement. He forced a smile. “I want your assistance getting Eric and Thomas off the ship.”

  Grady didn’t reply immediately. “Yes. I was pleased by the captain’s decision,” he finally said.

  “Yeah,” Russell agreed. “No one wanted to see them spaced, but I need you to make sure they don’t try anything.”

  Grady tilted his head to the side and studied Russell for a moment. “Surely they would not be so stupid.”

  Russell could not help but smile again at the tone of confusion in the alien’s voice. “I’m not expecting any trouble, but I would like to be prepared just in case."

  Without speaking, Grady stepped out into the corridor and his cabin door slid shut behind him. He paused and waited for Russell.

  Russell was pleased that the heat from Grady’s cabin had cut off when the door closed and he turned and led the way. As the cabins that had been converted into makeshift cells were just down the corridor, they reached them quickly. Russell reached out and entered the code. The door slid open and Eric stood just on the other side. Russell thought Eric looked angry, but then again he always seemed to look angry.

  “’Bout time,” Eric said, and started to step forward into the hallway. He stopped at the sight of Grady looming in the background and some of the anger seemed to leave his face. He pulled his eyes from Grady back to Russell. “What’s going on?”

  Russell shrugged. “Just like the captain said. You’re free to go.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t recommend trying to cause trouble.”

  Eric smiled. “We’ve already agreed to that but I want my clothes and stuff.”

  “Of course,” Russell agreed, and Eric’s eyes narrowed, probably searching for a trap. Russell tossed one of the credit vouchers and Eric automatically caught it.

  “What’s this?”

  “It’s your cut of the Bathia profit,” Russell said. He nearly laughed at the sight of Eric’s eyes widening in surprise.

  “My cut?” he asked in surprise.

  “Like Aaron said, we don’t want trouble. Just take your money and leave.”

  Eric looked confused, but he nodded.

  Aaron paused with his glass halfway to his mouth, watching Locke over the rim. “What?” he asked after a moment. “What do you mean you want me to kill a man for you?”

  “Exactly what I said. There’s a very bad man that I want dead. Actually, bad doesn’t even begin to describe him. The man’s pure evil.”

  Aaron glanced at Susan, but she only shrugged back at him. He turned his attention back to Locke. “We’re not assassins,” he said simply.

  Locke nodded. “True, but you do have certain talents, and I think you might be the very people I need.”

  Aaron sighed. It was true that he had killed many times, but it had been in a war. And since the Commonwealth’s defeat, he had killed but not randomly; they killed to stay alive. He shook his head. “We don’t kill innocent people.”

  The smile slipped from Locke’s face. “You’re not listening. This man is about as far from innocent as possible. He’s a murderer and he enjoys it.”

  “When we first met,” Aaron said slowly, “you said you don’t deal in assassinations.”

  “That’s true,” Locke agreed, “but this isn’t business. It’s personal.”

  Aaron stared at Locke. In the past, Locke had always seemed to be calm and in control, but that control had just slipped.

  “What did he do to you?” Susan asked. She seemed to have also sensed something.

  Locke didn’t answer right away; instead, he raised his glass and suck
ed in a mouthful of whiskey. He set the glass on the edge of the table and sighed deeply. He stared at the table, not meeting Aaron or Susan’s eyes. “I’ve been in the business for a long time, and in that time, I’ve made some good calls and some bad calls. One of the worst decisions I ever made was to take a contract to smuggle slam into the TF Federation.”

  “Ballsy,” Aaron said. Both Susan and Locke turned to look at him.

  “And what do you know of the TF Federation?” Locke asked.

  For one moment, panic surged within Aaron. The computer part of his brain had supplied information to him and he had spoken without thinking. The panic disappeared in a flash though; it would be perfectly understandable for him to research the federation on his way here. He cleared his throat before speaking. “I know there are six large and very dangerous criminal organizations that control criminal activity within the federation. I believe they guard their territory jealously.”

  “Actually, it’s five not six,” Locke corrected. “And I wish I would’ve never heard of the TF Federation. One of my ships was caught on Eming and the police turned the ship and crew over to Darren Woodson. Have you heard of him?”

  Aaron was spared having to lie when Susan shook her head.

  “He leads a group called NEBS. It’s the largest of the criminal groups in the federation. In fact, the others have all been beaten down and are starting to take orders from Woodson.” Locke paused, his eyes unfocused, as he seemed deep in thought. After a moment he shook himself and looked up, smiling. “Sorry.”

  “What happened to the crew?” Susan asked.

  Aaron was fairly sure that he knew the answer.

  Locke sighed, dropping his eyes back to his glass. “He killed them,” he said after a moment. “He sent one of the men back to me along with a vid.”