Chapter 6
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When we arrived at Omrin-7, we were escorted to the space dock by two Omrin cruisers. The captain of the first ship was adamant about knowing the purpose of our visit. Omrin was a free system, and warships were looked upon with suspicion. After a credit transfer, the captain's objections disappeared. An hour later our shuttle set down in Port Giamma.
The atmosphere on Omrin-7 had a constant stale smell to it. The air was breathable, the temperatures tolerable, but the smell was almost overwhelming.
We hopped a cab to Fwellos and were soon in a conversation with Bazzo. “5509, I think I can safely say it is located in this system. I've had several offers from traders looking to make the buy. The ship is a little banged up, but it has a solid hull. Those old Blevin-class hulls are a prized commodity out here. Could easily get in a bidding war for her.”
Cortes replied, “Bazzo, what are the chances that we can get a look at her? As of this time, she fits a purpose for us, and we would like to be in on the bidding.”
Bazzo looked around the room. “I see a few issues, Mr. Cortes. I can get you into the auction, but only after you have passed a security check by the auction house. If I was you, I would lose the uniform. Humans are not all that popular out here, and a Human soldier? Well, you would likely get turned away before even getting close. The privateers who run the auction would see to that.”
Bazzo continued his conversation with Cortes. His auction assistance fee was to be 3 percent of the auction price. He felt the bidding would likely start at around forty-eight thousand credits. I took a step back in shock. Forty-eight thousand credits was a price I could never pay.
Cortes responded, “Consider yourself our agent, Mr. Bazzo. At that fee, I am expecting exclusive rights to you for the bidding.”
Bazzo replied, “Exclusive rights will not be a problem. And there is no ‘mister,’ just Bazzo. Titles are reserved for a select few of our species, and Bazzo is not one of them. Don't worry about the security check. I will take care of the necessary paperwork. Let's see... I believe you are a trader from the Krown system, are you not? Yes, a Krown Mamis hauler to be exact. The Mamis is a nasty beast and as such requires a sturdy ship for transportation. Yes... Mr. Alfoos from the Krown system. Bids will be starting tomorrow. Meet me here and we will make our way to the auction.”
After returning to the spaceport and the Ranger, Cortes began crafting our plan. “We'll need to lease a ship for a day, something that looks like it could haul a Mamis. And your engineer friend here has just had a name change. Good evening, Mr. Alfoos.”
Frig responded with trepidation. “Good evening... sir?”
Frig would be doing the bidding; the final price was not important. We would win the bid and then force the turnover of the Swift when payment was due. Cortes would see to it that the Ranger was ready for the task when the time came.
The plan was simple, relying on the strength of the Ranger and the experience of her crew to carry it out. There would be gunplay, as the pirates would not give up their booty easily.
I placed my arm around Frig's shoulder and then settled my hand in on the back of his thin, but rigid neck, shaking him lightly. “Mr. Alfoos, this all sound good to you?”
Frig replied, “I will do my part, as always, sir.”
The auction was in a space dock of an old ore hauler that had been converted to a small station, no doubt run by the pirate Vlok. The Swift was fourth in line for bidding and looked to be in the same condition in which we had left her. The talk on the dock floor was that Vlok was reluctant to auction her off. He was entertaining thoughts of making her his own personal craft. But credits had a way of persuading him to let it go, and the Swift would bring high bidding.
The role of captain was a new one for Frig. He walked the deck with his wide chin held high, inspecting each craft that was soon to be for sale. I was impressed with his calm and yet seemingly arrogant demeanor. He played the part of a well-to-do captain flawlessly.
He stepped up to the information officer for the Swift and began asking questions. “Sir, what can you tell me about this ship? Is it flight-worthy?”
The officer shook his head. “I believe it had some sort of engine fire. Nothing big, but enough to have someone abandon her. Captain just brought her in last week. Been a lot of interest in her. Don't see many Blevins out here. Should sell pretty quick.”
Frig replied, “I see. She has Grid markings on her. Is there any current claim to her there? Is she registered?”
The officer shrugged, “All I know is it was abandoned. When the captain found her there was no beacon, and the rules of the galaxy state a beacon designates it as a registered ship. No beacon, fair game. As far as Grid registration, who knows? Any paperwork would be up to the new owner to unscramble, just as with any salvage.”
When the auction got under way, the first salvage lot went for eight hundred credits. It was a centuries-old wreck, recovered from a rarely-traveled-to planet. Its only real value was the Tantric armor on its forward edges. It could be easily stripped away with the right equipment and then sold off to any number of ship manufacturers. Tantric was a valuable commodity.
The next two ships were clunkers; they had largely been stripped of anything valuable before being sold off to a scrap yard. But as always, one man's trash was another man's treasure, and the two hulls were snapped up in a flurry of fast bids. We waited patiently for the auction to move to the Swift.
“My name is Vlok Cambrier. I would like to welcome you all to the auction today. We will now get down to business on the main event. We have a Blevin-class Defender, formerly of the Grid military. The hull is in excellent condition except for a few minor bruises. The electronics are top notch on this one, and with a little effort she can be turned into a substantial and secure transport for her new owner. The bidding will now commence, starting at sixty-five thousand credits.”
A hush went over the crowd. It lasted for only seconds as the first bidder stepped forward. “Sixty-five thousand credits!”
As we watched, a second and then a third bidder entered the fray. The bid quickly shot up to eighty-six thousand credits before the first of the bidders bowed out. The remaining two again escalated the price, and it soon topped one-hundred thousand. Vlok was all smiles. A bidding war would only help to line his pockets with more credits.
The bidding slowly came to a stop at one-hundred twenty-four thousand credits when the second of the bidders waved off any further bid.
As the lead bidder began to grin, Frig raised his hand. “One hundred fifty thousand credits.”
The crowd murmured as it turned to see who the new bidder was. None of them had ever seen a Gambit, which only added to his persona. Who was this strange new being stepping in with such a high bid?
After a minute’s pause, the first bidder again raised a hand. “One hundred fifty-five thousand credits!”
The crowd again bustled with low voices as the auctioneer banged his gavel and demanded silence. Frig had a stoic and yet confident look on his face. “Two hundred thousand credits.”
The crowd burst into activity as the auctioneer banged his gavel. “I said silence! Anyone caught talking who is not making a bid will be immediately posted as the high bidder. As always, if you bid and cannot pay... you will be spaced.”
The crowd again went silent.
The now angry and embarrassed bidder raised his hand. “Two hundred five thousand credits!”
It was evident from his tone that he had been given orders to come back with the Swift. Someone with deep pockets had taken an interest. The auctioneer accepted the bid and motioned back to Frig for a counter. Frig remained silent for thirty seconds as the crowd awaited his answer.
“Three hundred thousand credits.”
Again the crowd broke its silence, as the Blevin-class Defender was now going for more than four times its estimated auction value of seventy-five thousand credits. The first bidder then crossed
his arms and stood with a scowl on his face. When the final bang of the auction gavel came down, the crowd again erupted with chatter. I quietly followed Frig over to the auctioneer's table.
Vlok was all grins and eagerly awaited an introduction to the new owner of the Swift. “Mr. Alfoos, excellent bidding. I have to say, you do make it exciting.”
Frig looked at the pirate captain with little emotion in his expression. “If you would be so kind as to have her moved over to the port door, I will have my associates collect her. I am a busy man, Mr. Cambrier. No time available for chatting. Please move the ship as I await the transfer of funds from my client.”
Vlok barked out an order to his aide, who quickly turned and began directing the movement of the Swift. Frig stood patiently looking at his credit store for a transfer that would never come. When the Swift had been moved into position, two explosions rocked the converted ore hauler, followed soon after by the sound of blaster fire.
As the captain yelled at his crew to defend their ship, he suddenly went quiet. Frig was holding a blaster to the back of his head. “I suggest you call off your guard. We are only interested in the ship. No reason for needless loss of life. I'm sure your crew is expendable... but not entirely valueless to you, as I understand most are family members. Give the order, Mr. Cambrier, and we will soon be on our way.”
Vlok's face was boiling with rage. We had come into his domain, his home, and made a mockery of his defenses. Should he ever capture us, the torture we would endure would be like none we could envision. It would be long and painful, perhaps lasting for years.
The captain gave the order and the blaster fire soon went silent. “You will be sor—”
Frig popped the captain in the back of the head with the barrel of the blaster. “I have no desire to listen to your drivel, Captain. It is in your best interest to remain silent until we have departed. Simple terms, if you will.”
For fifteen minutes the deck of the captain's station was silent as the Swift was loaded into the Ranger's hold. It was a tight fit, but one we had planned for. Vlok was taken with us onto the Ranger and held until we were safely away.
After being placed in a lifepod, he made his final statement. “I will track you down, Alfoos. If it's the last thing I ever do... I will have your throat in my hand.”
The pirate glared at Frig as the door to the lifepod began to close.
With only a crack to spare in the door, Cortes tossed something inside. We could see the interior of the pod filling with green smoke as it was shoved behind a lock and then ejected into space.
I asked Cortes about the smoke and received a smile. “Just a little gift for our friend. It's a Modrin environment adjuster. Any Modrin of caliber would not travel without a handful of them. He will be fine, as it is not toxic. But for the next few weeks he is going to have a heavy green tint to his skin and a smell that would rot your sinuses. He will lose a lot of the respect of his family, which should make him weaker for some time to come. Extremely angry, but weaker.”
The pirates dared not follow after the Ranger, as it was far too powerful a ship for them to tangle with. Our trip back to the moon where our spare parts were located was smooth and easy. When we arrived and came over the horizon to the spot where the parts had been left, I was again angered to see that someone had been there before us. Our cache of parts and the lifepod we had occupied for over a month were gone. I sat back in my chair, dejected.
Frig placed his hand on my shoulder as Cortes approached. “I've just spoken to the admiral about your dilemma. We are in need of a new ore run, and as such he has given the OK for me to bring you and the Swift to his facilities. We should be able to find the parts you need, and the admiral has agreed that it can be taken out of your transport fee, a bit at a time. If you are in agreement, we can have you in a repair dock within the week.”
I concurred. We departed for the admiral's hideaway. The repairs went quickly with the tools made available to us. Six days after we landed, we were ready for our first test flight. Frig was paranoid about exposing our drive technology to the military. For my part, I thought it was sorely needed in the name of the Grid's defense, and something the admiral was worthy of.
We came to a compromise, giving the admiral the same level of tech that we had given to Felix. If the admiral's team was to stumble upon the channel alignment improvement that Frig had discovered, then so be it. If not, we would keep the speed advantage to ourselves. If the time came for war, it would be an easy upgrade to offer our allies. In the meantime, I was glad to have 5509 flying once again.
Two days later, we departed for the mining colony on the second moon of Malcon. A new load of refined Tantric ore was awaiting transport. The pickup went smoothly, and we were again followed out of the mining port by the same Delta Runner. It once again it held its distance.
After an hour of thinking about the situation, I turned to Frig, who was happily monitoring his engine modifications. “Hey, what do you think about us using the drive to lose that Delta Runner? We don't want whoever that is to know where this ore is going. I say we head through the ion wall and then punch it up and zip back through before they know what happened. We could do that and still meet up with the admiral's ship for the drop. They would have no clue as to what happened to us.”
Frig concurred, and we adjusted our course toward the wall. As we came through the other side, I pushed the throttle to full and watched in amazement as the indicator hit 306 SOL in less than a minute. We ducked back into the ion wall for another hour before returning to our prior course for a rendezvous with the admiral. The Delta Runner was nowhere to be found. The drop went smoothly. The admiral made a healthy deposit into my credit store, and we were soon on our way back to the Grid. I had a score to settle with Michael Felix. He would be paying dearly for his offense.
After arriving home I made my way to Felix's office. It was crowded with customers wanting to take advantage of his newer, faster service. Felix was on a run and would not be returning for two days. I left an anonymous note, supposedly from a Durian, about a high-paying, discreet haul I was interested in having him do. It was a message I knew would grab his attention. On the second day, I waited at the bar for his response.
Felix arrived at Jasper's after his return. He was looking for another Messenger when I stepped in behind him with my blaster pointed at the small of his back.
I said, “Shall we hit your favorite spot while I talk about blasting a hole in your spine for stranding me? It's a discussion we need to have.”
Seconds later we were seated at the table. I ordered drinks for us both on his tab.
“Imagine my thoughts as you pulled away from that lifepod. I believe you were laughing at the time?”
Felix stared at me with a disgusted look. “Believe it or not, I did return to pick you up. You were gone, so I collected my pod and took possession of the parts so that salvagers would not make away with them. I have them in my warehouse if you want them.”
I leaned in with a low and unbelieving voice. “And why should I believe you had any intention of coming back for me? You returned to collect your precious pod. We just saved you the trouble of having to clean it out.”
Felix replied, “Look, you have no reason to believe me other than my reputation. How would it look if I was to be responsible for stranding another Messenger? It's against our code of ethics. I may not like you, Mr. Grange, but I don't wish you or anyone else dead. I left you in that pod so I could check out the drive technology, to make sure it wasn't a scam. It wasn't, and I returned to pick you and your engineer up. You weren't there, simple as that. As far as the laugh goes, well, I was just having a little fun at your expense.”
For more than a month I had been contemplating what I would do to Michael Felix when I caught up to him. I finally had. I was now confronted with an explanation I did not want to believe, but I did. Michael Felix was driven by his codes and as he had said before, he would give up his own mother before violating them.
/> I stood and stared at him in disgust. “I'll be by the warehouse to collect my parts.”
I turned and angrily walked out of the bar.
Instead of waiting for a decent contract to come from someone at Jasper's, I began going right to the source, to the main routing station. I began to win contracts that had been going to Felix with his newly improved drive. I offered faster delivery times and a lower rate. Felix was infuriated that someone else was winning the choice contracts from the blind auction process. It didn’t take long for him to figure out who was behind the drop in his business.
He confronted me in the space dock. “Why am I feeling somehow cheated by you, Mr. Grange? You can't possibly be making deliveries in those times. It requires direct runs through the most pirated area in this arm of the galaxy. Even with my speed, I won't risk getting caught in one of their inhibitor field traps. You held out on me.”
He was right, but I was not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing so. “Maybe I'm willing to risk it because I'm a better pilot. Maybe I have an inhibitor field detector.”
It felt good to stretch the truth. “Maybe I've found a wormhole that takes me straight through. Hahahahaha!”
I walked away with a grin.
When the cargo was loaded I departed for our next destination. Three weeks later I was once again called into service by the admiral. And once again I had to give the Delta Runner the slip. My service had become the one of choice for the more lucrative contracts.
Within four months of the Swift's return to duty, I had paid off all my debts. Frig and I were living high, with profits going toward more ship improvements. The Swift was updated with a stealth ion cannon, and I had an agreement with the admiral to have the remainder of the hull covered with active Tantric armor.
The admiral was ecstatic about the drive technology we had bestowed upon him. When time allowed, he promised to have some of the latest electronics added to the Swift. Our ship’s computer and sensors would receive updates to the latest military grade. The Swift was fast becoming a ship that could hold its own in all but the most extreme of circumstances. With its new feature set, we could have fought a small war.
With my free time on the Grid, and my newfound wealth, I had been spending time courting Ashley Elizabeth. She was a bit of a mystery. I could not find her in the Grid registry, which was not highly unusual, but she had no record of a pilot's registration on file. With as much as she traveled, I found it unlikely that she was being chauffeured everywhere she went. In spite of the mystery surrounding her, I invited her to dinner.
I selected a restaurant with a view of spaceport Alpha. There was something intriguing about sitting and watching the large freighters that constantly ferried supplies to the Grid. It was also one of the pricier restaurants in sector A of the Grid, which was near my new apartment. Life was looking up, and I was taking advantage of what it had to offer.
I was not new to the dating scene, but there was something about this woman that had me spending the day before the date with a barber and a tailor. The orange-and-blue flap suit I purchased and had altered fit me like a glove. After a spritz of cologne, I departed for my first official date with the blonde bombshell Ashley Elizabeth. As I sat at the bar awaiting her arrival, I was filled with nervous anticipation. When she stepped through the doorway, she wore a shimmering blue gown and held a smile that could launch a thousand ships. All eyes were on her as I walked over to greet her.
“Ms. Elizabeth... one word... wow. You have a way of entering a room that draws everyone's attention. I would like to add that it certainly drew mine as well.”
The waiter kindly took her wrap and gestured for us to follow. “Well, Mr. Grange, the Alpha Room... you do know how to treat a lady.”
I grinned at the acknowledgment as the waiter gently laid her wrap in an adjacent chair. "Ma’am, sir. your server will be with you momentarily. May I offer you a complimentary beverage to begin your evening?"
I took the initiative and ordered a 320-credit bottle of Alpha Vineyards wine. It was grown in the Grid vineyards, from the rootstock of a Milinus variety of fruit. It had been acquired through trading more than four hundred years before, during a time of peace and prosperity. It was considered one of the finest wines on the Grid. It drew a coy smile of approval from Ashley.
“So, Mr. Grange...”
I interrupted. “Please, please call me Don.”
Ashley smiled and began again. “Don, you seem to be doing very well for yourself. Is there a secret to your success?”
I leaned forward with my elbows on the table before realizing I was being rude. I pulled them back slowly. “Let's just say the Messenger Service has been paying dividends after many years of hard work. That, and a bit of luck factored in, seems to be working well for me.”
She smiled. “I have heard rumors that you might be taking shortcuts through the pirate corridor. Seems you may be playing a dangerous game. Getting captured there can easily mean the end of the line. If I were shipping cargo, it would make me nervous to know that it might be lost. Are you a man who takes risks? Don?”
Her smile had a way of instantly disarming my response. My usually charming self was stuck for words. “I... should I be concerned that you have been doing a bit of snooping around? A rumor like that would normally only travel in close circles. Should I be flattered that you have been checking up on me?”
Ashley again smiled, this time turning up the corner of her mouth as she gently rocked her glass on the table. “I believe a lady should know what she may be getting into.”
She leaned in close, almost whispering. “You don't know what secrets some people are hiding.”
She leaned coyly back in her chair. “Do you have any secrets, Don?”
I confidently sat back in my chair and made an attempt to change the conversation. “We all have our secrets, Ashley. That's what makes us interesting. Speaking of interesting, that ring on your right hand... was your father in the last Milgari war? It is a service ring, is it not?”
Ashley held out her hand and admired the ring. “You flatter me, Don. The ring is mine. I was only a year out of school when I signed up for the Marines on a cruiser. Our ship saw action in the Wrath engagement. We took heavy damage, and many lives were lost when we boarded one of their battleships. Our commanding officer managed to bring some of us home after the ship’s core was compromised. We lost a lot of good people.”
I marveled at how such a beautiful creature had been involved in such a bloody battle. Her friendly smile and steady purpose gave the impression of a life of ease, one where others would offer a gentle hand of assistance for any troubles that came her way. Perhaps there was more to this Ashley Elizabeth than her comely exterior. My attraction to her only continued to grow.
The remainder of the evening was filled with banter about our lives. When the evening grew late, I walked her to the restaurant door. “I had a wonderful evening, Don. You have been quite the gentleman, and I want to thank you for that.”
As she leaned in for a kiss, I puckered my lips. I felt a warm press against my cheek.
She said, “I'll be away from the Grid for a week or two. I look forward to seeing you again when I return.”
Before I could reply she turned, looking over her shoulder with a gentle smile and a wink as she walked away. I was left standing with a smile of my own.