The DL7 slipped easily into their designated approach lane which would put them on an orbital insertion vector that bypassed most of the holding and transfer orbits. This would queue them up for a quick atmospheric entry. Jason was happy about the clout their employer seemed to have on the surface; while he didn’t mind cooling his heels above a planet, the longer they were airborne the more likely it was that someone would get a good visual of the Phoenix and realize she wasn’t just some light freighter and raise an alarm.
Luck stayed on their side and they passed unseen, and largely ignored, through the Eshquarian traffic and began their descent. Like their approach, entry was rigidly controlled and they were ordered into a tight, spiraling descent through the atmosphere that was almost directly over their intended landing zone: a small, commercial spaceport near the coast of the southern continent. This maneuver would be impossible without a gravimetric drive to control their speed and angle of attack, but even with it, there was still considerable friction heating over the hull. They continued down in the lazy, eighty-mile wide spiral as the thickening atmosphere began to buffet the gunship slightly.
With the ship's computer actually doing his job, Jason was free to enjoy the view of the planet as they descended. Eshquaria was very much like the other Earth-type planets he had visited since he started working in space. It had brilliant blue oceans and rolling green landmasses, just like his home. The more of them he saw, the more he realized Earth wasn't really all that unique. Instead of being upset at that, he found it oddly comforting that humans fit snugly into a "norm", albeit many, many years behind technologically.
"Heads up, Captain. We're approaching the handoff," Kage said.
"I've got it," he said testily. The handoff was when the autopilot would kick off since it wouldn't be receiving instructions from ground control on their final approach.
"Really? It looked like you were daydreaming."
"That's what humans look like when we’re anticipating something," Jason replied. Both Doc and Twingo gave him a look that clearly showed how much they disbelieved that statement. Jason ignored them as the flight controls extended up from the console and the floor in preparation of the transition to manual flight.
The computer passed control of the gunship over to him and the nav system began feeding him fly-to indicators on his display, leading him to the spaceport's main landing area. The final approach was easy since the landing pad was a semi-private section of the facility that catered to private shuttles and the occasional slip-capable yacht. The Phoenix most definitely looked out of place as Jason cycled the landing gear down and settled her onto the tarmac. No sooner had they touched down when a coded message came through the coms, text only, directing them to the hanger complex ahead and to the right. Jason kept the grav-drive active in order to keep most of the ship's weight off the landing gear and began to taxi towards the indicated building, an enormous, non-descript metal hanger that looked like all the others around it.
Peering into the hanger, Jason could make out a half-dozen vehicles lining the wall and twice as many armed men milling about. He knew his cargo (er... passengers) were of high value, so he didn't look too much into it as he nudged the Phoenix over the threshold and all the way inside. A man on a mezzanine directly in front of him marshaled them forward and then crossed his arms, indicating that they come to a stop. Jason leveled the ship out on the landing gear, shut down the drives, and began putting the various systems in standby or killing them altogether. The others stood and began filing out of the bridge with the Vongaard family to gather their belongings and finish securing the ship.
"No, it's ok... really. I'll finish up here," he said to himself since everyone else had left. He went to two other stations and made sure things were in their proper setting before walking off the bridge and heading towards the cargo bay. He was discreetly armed with a small sidearm tucked into a rear waistband, but he stopped by the armory to deposit the weapon before meeting the others by the rear ramp. Besides, with Lucky beside him, the small weapon wouldn't amount to much anyways.
"We all ready?" He asked as he approached the group. There were nervous nods from the Vongaard family and a studied indifference from his crew. He walked over to the control panel and opened the interior pressure doors of the cargo bay and then hit the control to lower the rear ramp. As it hummed down towards the ground, Jason could see the handful of men in black uniforms waiting at the bottom. Although well-armed, there was a casual air about them that said they didn't expect any trouble.
He walked down the ramp confidently with Lucky and Crusher flanking him one step behind. The effect it had on the men at the bottom of the ramp was amusing, and intentional; nobody in their right mind would think they had the upper hand when a Galvetic warrior and a full-fledged battlesynth were coming towards them. "Gentlemen," he said cordially. "I'm Captain Burke. I believe we're expected."
"Of course, Captain," one of the men said, identifying himself as in-command. "Would you be so kind as to consent to a hand scan? That goes for the rest of your crew and the passengers as well."
"I don't see why not," Jason said, relieved he had left the small sidearm in the ship. He had expected this; nobody paid the kind of money they were getting for this simple job without being prudent. "Can we do this here, at the bottom of the ramp?"
"Yes, sir. And thank you for cooperating without a fuss," the commander said with some relief in his voice. He had mistaken Omega Force for simple mercenaries and his experience told him that they were usually an uncooperative lot if for no other reason than the chance to be uncooperative. Two other men in black uniforms came forward with scanners and cleared the six members of the crew (although Lucky's readings caused some discussion) and the four Vongaards. Once that was finished, the commander of the group called an "all-clear" into his com unit and stepped back. Jason looked around, confused, until a small group of well dressed individuals came around from under the Phoenix's left wing and into view. Senator Vongaard broke into a large smile immediately.
"Prime Minister Colleston! This is truly a pleasure; I had no idea you'd be meeting us yourself," he said, approaching the Prime Minister with his hand outstretched for a very human-looking handshake.
"When I heard you were inbound I had to come down and see for myself," Colleston said. "The reports from Corran were that the ship you fled on was destroyed. But, since they never produced even a molecule of wreckage, we all held out hope you'd made it." The Prime Minister looked over to take in the rest of the Senator's family and the crew of the Phoenix. Vongaard saw the look and rushed to make introductions:
"Mister Prime Minister, you already know my family..."
"...Hello, ladies..."
"... and let me introduce you to the members of Omega Force. Without them we certainly wouldn't have made it off Corran, not alive anyway. This is Captain Burke, Chief Engineer Twingo, Doctor Ma'Fredich, Kage, Lucky, and Crusher," Vongaard said, rounding out the introductions.
"Lucky?" Colleston asked in genuine confusion as he eyed the synth up and down.
"Not my official designation, of course. It is the name my friends have given me," Lucky said quietly.
"How interesting," Colleston said. "Anyway, I can't thank you enough for the job you've done. My advisor was right when he insisted on hiring you. You understand we couldn't have sent in Eshquarian military units, even special forces, to affect a rescue; the political fallout if they failed would have been considerable. But I was told you guys were at least as good... and here you all are," the Prime Minister beamed, arms held wide, "safe and sound.
"Now, if you'll all excuse me, I'll leave you in the capable hands of my Chief of Staff, Mr. Kross." With a final, curt nod the Prime Minister of Eshquaria turned and made his way back to one of the waiting vehicles with most of the security force in tow. Mr. Kross, a distinguished looking man with longer silver-violet hair and an impeccable suit, walked directly up to Jason.
"Captain Jason Burke," he said in a clippe
d, formal tone. "I'd also like to extend my congratulations on a job well done. You came recommended to us very highly, and, I must say, you didn't disappoint. The Senator's safety has greater implications than just a saved life, but we can talk about that later. If you and your crew would be so kind as to grab what you need, I'd like you to be my guest in the Capital at the Prime Minister's compound. You'll meet the man who hired you there so he can arrange payment." Jason would have rather been backing the Phoenix out of the hanger and preparing to lift off, but leaving without payment wasn't an option.
"It appears we're at your disposal, Mr. Kross. We'll be just a moment," he said. He turned and saw the crew was already heading back up the ramp to grab their things. In truth, a little time planetside and off the ship wouldn't hurt; they'd been at it pretty hard the last few months. Lucky, who didn't need to get anything, stood at the bottom of the ramp in a manner that made it obvious he was guarding the entrance to the ship.
Jason grabbed his "go-bag" out of his quarters that had his toiletries, an assortment of "civilian" clothing, and a few other interesting little items that he knew would make it through a security scan, and then went up to the bridge to give things a once over to ensure they were properly shutdown or in standby. Some other systems, like internal and perimeter security, were still on full alert. He set external security so that someone would actually need to be touching the hull before they were stunned, but if an unauthorized person tried to force their way on board, it was unlikely they would survive. Harsh measures, but the Phoenix was their life out there. They couldn't take the risk that someone would want to damage or steal her.
"Computer," he said as he walked back down the cargo ramp to meet up with his crew, "lock up and initiate defensive protocol Burke-Bravo."
"Confirmed," the computer said. When Jason's boots hit the hanger floor, the internal pressure doors slid shut and the ramp raised and locked. The marker lights on the tips of the wings and vertical stabilizers remained on, but muted, as fair warning to any would-be vandals that the ship wasn't sitting helpless.
"After you, Mr. Kross," Jason said as he hefted his bag. The Vongaard family had already left in one of the other vehicles while they had been on board gathering their things, so the crew divided themselves between the remaining two vehicles and rolled out of the door near the nose of the ship and made their way down the service road that paralleled the taxiway. Jason remained quiet and stared out the window. I hope I'm not walking us into something we can't walk out of.
The trip to the compound that housed an assortment of government officials and foreign diplomats was about an hour and a half in the ground vehicle. Jason didn't like being so far away from his ship, but he knew if they didn't collect on this job, things would begin to get very tight for them; operating the DL7 gunship was horrifically expensive and the cost of trying to disappear after some of their more exciting jobs was daunting. But, despite the rough patch, Omega Force had remained true to its core beliefs: they never brought harm on someone who didn't deserve it and they had remained loyal to each other throughout. Jason was proud to serve with all of them and he hoped they would be able to continue to make a real difference.
The compound was actually a campus of tall, graceful buildings that was surrounded by a high decorative wall that looked quite substantial. Their vehicle rolled through a security gate unopposed and pulled up to one of the taller towers on the grounds. “Your accommodations will be in this building, Captain,” Mr. Kross was saying. “I think you’ll find them slightly more comfortable than a deep-space combat vessel. At least I hope so, if not we’ll have to talk to the interior decorators.” Jason knew the man was making meaningless small-talk so he didn’t bother answering. The Chief of Staff smoothly moved on, talking to Doc instead as they all piled out of the passenger vehicles. “There will be a reception for Senator Vongaard this evening that you’re all invited to attend. The dress will be dinner formal. Someone will come to collect you in order to take you to the event and the man who contracted you will meet you there.” Jason sighed audibly; jumping through hoops to get paid after a job was completed was not something he usually entertained.
“Of course, Mr. Kross,” Doc said smoothly. “We’ll be sure to have ourselves ready.” Once Kross had departed, the crew followed one of the security troops into the building and up to their suite. As promised, it was fairly luxurious with seven separate bedrooms arranged around a large common/entertainment area. It seemed to encompass at least half the floor they were on.
Jason walked into one of the bedrooms, dropped his bag on the floor, and flopped backwards onto the enormous bed with a huge sigh of contentment. I may need to see about replacing the mattress on my own bed. I didn’t know what I was missing. While he could have instantly fallen asleep on the ultra-comfortable bed, an argument in the common area seemed to be gaining momentum in both volume and number of participants. Reluctantly, he got up and walked out to see just what everyone was so worked up about.
“I didn’t sign on for this sort of thing, hobnobbing with politicians and sycophants isn’t my game,” Kage was saying.
“It wouldn’t kill you to stay disconnected from a computer terminal once in awhile,” Doc said. “A little culture wouldn’t hurt either. That goes for you too, Crusher.”
“Fuck that,” Crusher rumbled, repeating one of his Captain’s favorite phrases. “I’m not going.” The big warrior had already found the bar and was splayed out on a couch with a bottle of something green in his massive hand.
“Captain…” Doc said helplessly, relieved when he saw Jason walk out.
“Ok,” Jason began, holding up his hand for silence. “Who actually wants to go to this?” Only Doc raised his hand, who then turned and openly glared at his crewmates who did not raise theirs. “Fine. Doc and I are really the only ones who need to be there. If the rest of you want to sit here and get drunk while we go and get the money from the job, so be it.” The smiles he saw in return told Jason he hadn’t quite gotten the hang of guilt tripping them into anything yet.
“So you are insistent that you will not be going, Crusher?” Lucky asked.
“You heard me.”
“Captain,” the synth said, “I will be accompanying you and Doc this evening.”
“Really?” Doc asked, surprised. “You don’t especially like crowds, Lucky.”
“This is true. But I will not let Captain Burke go anywhere without proper protection, no offense intended,” Lucky said.
“None taken,” Doc laughed. “Anything he can’t handle himself is going to be out of my league.”
“I appreciate that, big guy,” Jason said sincerely. While he didn’t think he was in any danger, he wouldn’t insult his friend by turning down the offer. Lucky was still somewhat uncomfortable around groups of people in social settings after his abduction by Bondrass’ slave traders, so the gesture was viewed by the Captain as a profound sign of respect.
The three members of Omega Force that submitted to attending the formal reception for the Senator they had rescued were unceremoniously dropped off near a service entrance, well away from the main entrance to the hall where people were being announced as they entered. Far from feeling snubbed, the trio couldn't have been happier with the arrangement; getting their pictures in the local press wasn't exactly in line with their policy of keeping a low profile.
Entering the hall, Jason asked Lucky to scan for Chief of Staff Kross and was rewarded with the synth pointing towards a corner or the enormous hall near one of four bars that were serving drinks. Jason blended in well with the native Eshquarians, Doc was also no problem, but poor Lucky drew stares and gasps as he tried to quietly shadow his Captain towards the far corner for which they were headed. "Don't worry, Lucky. We'll only stay as long as we absolutely need to, and then we're gone. This isn't a social call," Jason said to the obviously uncomfortable synth.
"Do not concern yourself with me, Captain," he said quietly. "I will remain inconspicuous as you and Doc conduct
business." Jason has his doubts about how inconspicuous he could be in a setting like they were in, although he had shifted the color of his armor panels to a muted black that looked quite formal against the burnished silver of his "skin.” Kross saw them approaching and turned to dismiss most of the people he had been talking to, save for one man. He was tall and thin, almost severe looking, and had white hair and a prominent pointed chin. It seemed like the white hair was a natural coloration, or lack of, rather than a result of advanced age.
"Gentlemen," Kross said smoothly, "welcome. I see not all of you made it."
"The rest of the crew was a little under the weather after such a long flight," Jason said blandly, knowing full well the politician would see right through the lie.
"Of course," he agreed. "May I introduce our mutual friend and your current employer: Mr. Crisstof Dalton." I'll be damned... a normal sounding name for once. At the mention of his name, Crisstof Dalton placed his right hand on his chest and bowed slightly.
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