Soldiers of Fortune (13 page)

             
The
Phoenix
swung into a wide orbit around the host planet and began chasing Felexx as it crossed the terminator and into the light of the primary star. Jason chose the lesser developed of the world's two spaceports to make landfall. The procedure was absurdly simple; broadcast an all-channel announcement on the com that you were attempting to land, and then wish for the best. This didn't necessarily mean others couldn't also try to leave at the same time, it was just a friendly heads-up. With no traffic control system, or controllers, ships could be seen on the sensor display coming and going at random vectors, often jumping to slip-space while still quite close to Felexx.
This should be all kinds of fun.

             
Once Kage broadcasted their warning on the local com channel, Jason took a quick breath and plunged the gunship into a steep entry dive, spiking the hull temperatures almost immediately. "Take it easy on your entry vector," Twingo shouted over the intercom from engineering. "Our new panels aren't hanging on by much."

              "Too late now," Jason replied. "I'll keep that in mind next time."

             
They couldn't fully bring up the navigation shields without interfering with the
Phoenix's
"costume", and coming in hot with the combat shields raised might give the locals the wrong idea. He did reduce his speed dramatically, however, and decreased the friction burn over the hull. The canopy soon cleared as they pushed into the lower atmosphere and Jason got his first good look at the surface of Felexx. It was rather pretty, it seemed such a waste for it to be little more than an unimportant trading depot. He steered onto a new course that would take them directly to the spaceport and watched the rolling green hills pass underneath them.

             
If the traffic above Felexx was disorganized, the spaceport itself could only be described as utter chaos. Ships came and went with no regard for how their flight path affected others, and the landing pad seemed to be a system of first come, first served as pilots just touched down where they could fit their ships on the tarmac that lined both sides of the main taxiway. Jason just shook his head as he tried to find a place near the outskirts of the complex that would accommodate his gunship. The less eyes on her the better; even though they had disguised her, there was still no doubt that she was a warship and not one of the light or micro freighters buzzing about the spaceport. 

             
Jason swung the shabby looking
Phoenix
in a low, wide loop that gave much of the chaos a wide berth, the number four engine blowing a steady stream of smoke in an artful touch by Twingo. He settled the ship non-eventfully on a broken section of tarmac and went about putting the ship's systems in a standby mode that would allow them to lift off quickly if needed. "Crusher, Lucky... you're with me. Doc, you and Twingo get the cargo ready to move," Jason said as he vacated his seat. "Kage, you know the drill; monitor all the com traffic and keep me up on anything that sounds interesting." He walked off the bridge to a chorus of affirmative responses as his crew set about getting ready to start the operation.

             
After stopping by the armory so he and Crusher could arm themselves, Jason walked to the rear of the cargo bay and opened the ship up as he settled his plasma sidearm in its holster at his hip. When the ramp lowered enough, they saw a timid looking being waiting for them at the bottom. It was short, wide, and covered with a sleek, black fur. It also had large, bizarre looking eyes that sported three pupils of varying shapes and sizes, experience told Jason it was likely this alien saw over a much more broad spectrum than his eyes naturally would. 

             
"Can I help you?" He asked as he walked down the ramp. The alien looked Lucky and Crusher over before answering.

              "Yes," the being said, his deep voice seeming to indicate he was a male. "I'm the dockmaster for this section of the facility. I was just wanting to welcome you to Felexx and inquire as to the nature of your visit." The small alien didn't look like he served the spaceport in any official capacity, and Jason had encountered any number of scams trying to shake a few credits off of them when they first arrived someplace.

              "Let me guess... landing fees?" Jason asked sarcastically.

              "What? Oh my, no!" The alien exclaimed, taken aback. "If the port manager thought I was charging fees for something like landing I'd loose my franchise. I'm simply here to expedite any business you might have by pointing you in the right direction or facilitating meetings with the right people." Although still skeptical, Jason decided to give him a chance.

              "Ok. I tell you want, we have a load of somewhat specialized cargo we'd like to offload," he said. "If you can point me in the right direction to sell it there could be some credits in it for you." At the mention of payment the alien perked up and gave Jason the location of three different buyers who might be interested in moving small arms components. After sending him on his way, the trio locked the ship back up, armed the defensive systems, and made their way to the main terminal so they could hire a ground vehicle to take them around the town that surrounded the spaceport.

             
The first two were a bust; the instant the merchants caught wind that the items were illegally obtained they abruptly ended the meeting. The third, however, seemed to be far less squeamish about moving items that may have been stolen. He instead called another contact of his, who arrived shortly afterwards. The newcomer unoriginally introduced himself as "Mr. Black," an obvious alias, so Jason in turn introduced himself as "Mr. Smith." Black was concerned about the potential traceability of the items, so he insisted on a sample. Jason had already anticipated this and removed a small, cigar sized tube from his pocket and handed it over. Inside, the well-padded tube was one of the rods from the crates they were hauling. The shady trader took the crystal rod and moved over to a microscope, explaining he wanted to check the clarity and structure of the rod. Jason wasn't fooled; he was looking at the micro-etching on the side of the item that gave the name of the manufacturer and the specific lot number. This was exactly what he was wanting. Mr. Black would probably go through his own back channels and hopefully discover the "theft" that Kage had carefully planted in as many databases as he could. After that he would hopefully give them a nudge in the direction they needed to be going.

             
The trader, a male of a species Jason couldn't readily identify, handed the rod back and told them he'd ask around if there was any interest. They thanked him and gave him the com codes where they could be reached. Not in any hurry to get back to the ship, the three found a tavern within walking distance and decided to stop in for a drink. "So, what do you think?" Jason asked his friends.

              "About what?" Crusher answered with a question as he sipped from a bottle of ale. Jason just rolled his eyes and looked to Lucky.

              "I cannot give definite odds on how successful we will be with this gambit, Captain," the synth said. "If the trader does as we hope and finds out that the rods are indeed stolen, and worth a lot of money, his greed may override his caution and it could be the first step we need."

              "Yeah," Jason said, frowning, "there are a lot of 'ifs' with this plan. More than I would normally like. But these guys are too smart for us to just stumble onto. If we're going to make inroads the first move will have to come from them." They sat in silence over another drink while they pondered their next move. Many of the locals were giving the new comers some not-so-friendly stares, but nobody was foolish enough (or yet drunk enough) to walk over and challenge the menacing looking trio. Right as he was about to suggest they leave, Jason's com unit beeped with an incoming message. "That didn't take long. He wants to meet again, this time to check the rest of the cargo." He replied telling the "merchant" to meet at the ship in one hour. Crusher expressed concern at this.

              "Do you think it wise to have them meet us at the ship?" He asked.

              "Honestly, can you think of a more easily defended position? If they're up to something, I'd rather have the
Phoenix's
defensive systems backing me up than trying to flee with a bunch of heavy cargo crates," Jason answered. Crusher conceded the point with a nod and a shrug and rose to leave.

              "Let's get out of here before one of these idiots does something they'll regret," he said loudly, looking at the bar patrons meaningfully. Almost all of them quickly averted their gaze, refusing to meet his intense stare. The three left the bar without incident and flagged down another ground vehicle for hire to take them back to the spaceport. Jason was apprehensive about this part of his plan; if it didn't bear fruit he would have just given away the one bargaining chip he had in the stolen weapons parts.           

             
Felexx's host planet was moving across the sky as they reached the terminal and began their walk back to where the
Phoenix
was parked, casting everything in a gloomy light. When they reached the ship and dropped the ramp, they saw that the others had already gotten the cargo straps removed and had slid the crates back closer to the rear doors. Jason was also pleased to see that one of his crewmembers had the foresight to activate the more formidable ground defenses they rarely used, as evident by the pair of articulated plasma cannons that were flanking either side of the cargo bay entrance. The stunners that were located throughout the ship were good, but if someone was wearing armor or a personal shielding device, they'd be next to useless. The rear-facing guns were also powerful enough to deal with any ground vehicles that may prove problematic.

             
It was almost an hour to the second when four figures approached the rear of the ship, hands clearly visible although two were obviously armed. Crusher and Lucky stood on either side of the ramp where they could cover the entrance and also be covered by the ship's cannons, the former in full body armor. Jason was standing right at the foot of the ramp as they approached and held up a hand when they were within earshot. "That's close enough," he yelled across the distance. "Only two of you need to come any closer. Your armed escort is free to watch from there." After a brief conversation amongst themselves, the trader Jason had met earlier and one other approached.

              "Mr. Smith," the trader said, addressing Jason by the fake name he had given. "It seems you're in luck. I was able to find a buyer for your merchandise, but not nearly at the price you were asking."

              "Well that is unfortunate, Mr. Black," Jason said, using the obviously fake name the other had given as well. "How much less are we talking?"

              "Half."

              "Have a good evening gentlemen," Jason said, turning his back. "Come on guys, pack it up."

              "Hold on!" Mr. Black shouted. "Aren't you willing to negotiate?"

              "I am," Jason said. "But not from a position of being offered half my asking price. That tells me you don't take us seriously... I find that insulting." The trader gave Lucky and Crusher a nervous look and continued.

              "You have to understand, Mr. Smith, those items are marked. Trying to find a buyer willing to overlook that wasn't easy," he said. "Maybe there's some room for a trade to sweeten the deal?"

              "I'm listening," Jason said, turning back to fully face him.

              "I can offer you up to seventy-five percent of what you want, in exchange for a small service from you; a simple transporting job," Mr. Black said.

              "How simple?"

              "Twenty crates delivered discreetly to another spaceport further into the Cluster. Nothing dangerous loaded in them, just something that a contact of mine would greatly appreciate having moved." This was along the lines of what Jason was hoping for; a smuggling job in exchange for the rods he had in his cargo bay would put them in just a little deeper and that much closer to what they were after. He kept his face blank and pretended to think it over.

              "Eighty percent of asking price and you have a deal," he said after a few moments.

              "Let me confer with my client and I'll let you know," Mr. Black walked away towards his other two men who were waiting and pulled out a personal com unit. Jason didn't think this was anything more than a stalling tactic, but it did make him nervous; from what he'd learned there was very little in the way of law enforcement on Felexx, but he didn't want to be the unlucky sap that walked right into a sting operation meant to snag the small time smugglers that infested the settlements on the moon.