Soldiers of Fortune (15 page)

              "That's good." That was all the answer Jason was going to get. Within a couple minutes all eight of them were crossing back to their idling aircraft and loaded the containers into its hold. A few seconds later a
whoosh
came from the engines and the ship lifted smoothly into the air and flew off the way it came.

              "I guess that means no tip," Jason quipped.

              "It also means that our only lead just flew off into the sunset," Crusher growled.

              "I wouldn't be too sure, my gargantuan friend," Twingo's voice came from the top of the cargo bay. He was looking at a spot on the hull directly to the right of the entrance of the cargo bay.

              "What have you got," Jason asked, moving up the ramp. Twingo simply pointed to a spot on the hull, but Jason wasn't sure what he was supposed to be looking at.

              "Very clever," Lucky said. Still not seeing anything, Jason was trying to figure out a way to ask without coming out and saying he had no idea what they were talking about.

              "Quite," Twingo agreed. "The question would be: why?"

              "Who knows?" Crusher asked. "Should we get it off?" This infuriated Jason; even Crusher knew what everyone was looking at.

              "That's not my call," Twingo said. "Captain?" They all turned and looked at him, and he stared back helplessly.

              "Ok, fine," he surrendered. "What the hell are you guys looking at? And I want Lucky to answer me."

              "It is a tracking device, Captain. Do you see the slight discoloration on the hull? The device is capable of mimicking the ship's coloration and texture," Lucky said. Jason asked him to answer because the synth seemed incapable of sarcasm, and he certainly would never call his Captain's intelligence into question.

              "Wait," Jason argued, "we pull trackers off our hull all the time. They never blend into the ship’s skin so well."

              "Those are deep space trackers, Captain," Twingo explained. "This is only good for short distances, and not for very long; maybe three or four days tops. It's coverage is probably only good for this quadrant of Oorch itself."

              "So they weren't wanting to keep track of us much further than it takes us to leave," Jason mused. "This could be useful. Leave it there for now. Let's close her up and get out of here." He dropped his rail gun off at the armory, kept his sidearm, and made his way to the bridge. "Get ready to liftoff," he said to Kage as he walked over to where Doc was manning a com station. "Find us a small spaceport on this side of the planet, arrange for berthing and pay for it, if they require it."

              "So we're staying?" Doc asked, somewhat surprised.

              "Yes. This is the only lead we have right now. They left a tracker on our hull, I'm going to park somewhere on this planet and see if we can't get them to come to us," Jason replied as he flopped down into the pilot's seat. Kage had the main systems online and transferred control back over to his station as he sat down.

              "Head southeast," Doc said. "I'll have us a landing slot by the time we get there." Jason lifted the
Phoenix
smoothly off the turf and accelerated gently towards the spaceport. He had no doubt the tracker was meant to either verify they were leaving after the drop off or to ensure they weren't going to try and track the other aircraft back to their base of operations. In that respect, it was good the spaceport lay along a different heading. He hoped that if they parked and put out some feelers that they were looking for work, this particular group might come to them. It was weak, almost paper thin. But, for the time being, it was all he had and he wasn't thrilled about that. This job had all the potential of turning into a very long and drawn out goose egg.
Glad we negotiated an upfront fee.

             
The spaceport was smaller than most they'd been to, but it was larger and much more organized than the one they'd left on Felexx. They entered the traffic pattern as directed and circled the spaceport, waiting for clearance to begin their approach. After traffic control had given their blessing, Jason came about sharply and began a steep, nose-up descent and followed the glide slope Kage had sent to his station. At five-hundred feet he cycled the landing gear and touched down with barely a bump to announce their landing. Following the indicating arrows that came up on his display, he taxied the gunship off the landing pad and to their assigned docking berth, which was basically a large section of tarmac with a number painted on it. He braked smoothly to a stop, leveled the ship, and then put the main drive into standby. Having no idea what to expect, he was going to leave his ship in an "alert" state, able to take flight at a moment’s notice.

              "Ok, boys," Jason announced over the intercom. "We're parked. Keep the ship ready to launch immediately if needed. Once you're ready, meet me in the galley and we'll go over the plan."

              "We have a plan?" Kage asked. "That's a nice change of pace."

              "Shut up."

*
              *              *              *              *

             
The next two days passed uneventfully for Omega Force, and that wasn't a good thing. Twingo took the time to enlist their help in performing various repairs and maintenance actions on the
Phoenix
, but boredom was setting in. This was a non-issue for Lucky, who stood stoically by Jason's side as he aimlessly went about trying to make a contact that could get his crew some work. Doc took the time to read and, since they had access to wideband communications at the spaceport, catch up on some research. Crusher and Kage, however, were becoming stir-crazy and that had proved to be a volatile combination in the past. Jason hoped he could find something soon before they began to break things.

             
It was late into the third day on Oorch when they received a visitor. Jason and Twingo were up on the ship's backbone working on a glitch in one of the Twin's launching cradles when Lucky called up that someone was coming. Jason stood up, stretched his back out, and walked down towards the starboard wing where they had parked the service platform they were using to get up onto the ship. He reached around to the small of his back to situate the plasma pistol riding in his waistband and then made his way around to the rear loading ramp where Lucky and Crusher had already intercepted their visitor. After much cajoling, Jason had convinced Crusher that a simple verbal challenge should precede him throwing people to the pavement when they approached. This time he stood in front of a plain-dressed man, casually holding a large blast rifle, but otherwise making no threatening moves.

              "Can I help you?" Jason shouted as he approached.

              "I'm simply here to satisfy a curiosity, Captain," the man said. "We assumed you'd have been well on your way from Oorch days ago, yet here you are." He was an unassuming looking sort, not too imposing, but the way he moved and carried himself alerted Jason that this was a dangerous person. He couldn't hazard a guess as to the other's species, especially in the Concordian Cluster where there were no indigenous intelligent life forms.

              "Is there some problem?" Jason asked. "You say you had assumptions about our intentions, but I have no idea who you are."

              "I represent certain interests on this planet that don't like to have attention drawn to themselves. Attention such as an obvious smuggler's ship, that was recently used in a covert delivery, being parked in a busy spaceport on our doorstep," the man said more forcefully. "Is there some reason you aren't lightyears away from here?" Jason stared at him for a moment, making it obvious he wouldn't be intimidated.

              "During the excitement of picking up your cargo we were hit with some powerful weapons fire while still on the surface of Felexx," he said slowly. "We're affecting repairs here, at a proper facility, rather than have it break on us in interstellar space. So now I have a question; why the interest in what we're doing at all? We've made no overt moves that would--"

              "That's hardly the point," the man interrupted. "We leave nothing to chance. Nothing. Now, is there any other reason you're dithering here on Oorch?"

              "We could use a job," Jason said, deciding to try and feel things out. "Our delivery service was a one-time gig. I've got a thirsty ship and a crew with expensive tastes, we were poking around here to see what other jobs we could kick up."

              "There are better opportunities for private contractors out of Felexx. Why not go back there?"

              "The same reason we're making repairs now; I don't think we'd be welcomed back. Protecting your cargo has cost us any potential employment there," Jason said. "So now we have no choice but to push further up the Cluster and see what else we can find."

             
The man looked from Jason to Crusher and Lucky, then back. Without warning, he reached into the front of his jacket. He froze at the warning snarl from Crusher, who had raised his weapon within a split-second. "That is not advisable," Lucky said, moving around to cover him from the other side. The man wisely stayed absolutely motionless, but Jason did see that he didn't panic or show any real fear.
I was right, this guy is one dangerous individual. I'm sure of it.

              "If I wanted you harmed, you'd have never seen my face," he said calmly. "May I?" he asked Crusher. When Jason nodded once the big warrior lowered his weapon slightly, but Lucky was still behind the man and to the left. He continued his hand motion and withdrew a small, personal com unit from the inside pocket of his jacket. He tossed it to Jason with a flick of his wrist. "There's a slim possibility we might have some need of your services again. After seeing it up close, something tells me this ship is a lot faster than it appears," he said in a deadpan voice. "Keep that com unit on you. If I call, you won't have much time to be ready. If you don't hear from me within the week, get into your ship, take off from Oorch, and never return."

             
The man left quickly, disappearing around a utility building and out of sight. Jason watched him go, turning the com unit over in his hand. It was a standard, commercially available unit that didn't appear to have anything special about it. "Get everyone together in the galley," he said to Crusher. "We' need to be ready if this guy calls." He had no idea if this person was even connected to the rash of attacks they'd been sent out to investigate, but as of right then he didn't have any other credible lead. The Eshquarian Intelligence Service had been of shockingly little help when it came to trying to find them even a starting point. For all he knew they were just out there committing petty crimes that were unrelated to the harassment of shipping lanes.

             
As the crew filed into the galley area he wrapped the com unit in a towel and then put it in a drawer. He was certain it wouldn't be chiming within the next couple hours, and he was equally certain the unit had been rigged to allow someone to open a channel and spy on them without alerting them. It was a fairly standard trick they'd employed themselves on occasion. Once they were all seated he started.

              "As of right now, we're condition 'red'," he told them. This was a prearranged signal that meant they no longer had the freedom to openly discuss their operation, no matter where they were. While they were "red" they would completely live their cover story. Between the tracker on the hull and the suspect com unit Jason couldn't risk someone mentioning their real purpose and giving them away. It wouldn't mean just a failed mission; it would likely mean their lives.

             
When everyone nodded they understood him, Jason took the com unit back out of the drawer and slipped it into his pocket. Pocketing the unit would be the expected action and would arouse the least amount of suspicion.

             
"We had a visitor today," he began. "Someone who works for the people we delivered those crates to. He says there's the possibility of more work, but we'll see."

              "Good," Crusher rumbled. "We're tired of sitting around here doing nothing. We either need to find a job or move on." Jason suppressed a smile, for some reason the role-acting aspect of their job intrigued Crusher to no end. He would develop a whole different persona to wear like a costume during operations that required them to appear as something they were not.