Soldiers of Fortune (8 page)

              “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.

              "A genuine pleasure to meet you, Captain Burke," his rich, deep voice seemed to hang in the air. "And you as well Dr. Ma'Fredich and Lucky."

              "If you don't mind my saying, you seem quite familiar with us Mr. Dalton," Jason said smoothly, hiding the alarm he was feeling.

              "Please, call me Crisstof... And do not be alarmed, I've been tracking your exploits for some time now, but not for any nefarious purpose," Crisstof said. "I believe we can be mutually beneficial to each other in the future, but for now let us get acquainted, settle up our account, and discuss the possibility of discussing another job you can do for me soon."
This guy is smooth.

             
Soon, Kross left the four of them to talk quietly at the far end of the hall while the reception went on around them. Jason got the impression Crisstof was what he would call a "trouble shooter:” someone who found ways to accomplish things when official channels either broke down or were unavailable. He practically confirmed this when he explained why Omega Force had been hired to get the Vongaard family off Corran instead of any number of military units that were probably not only better equipped, but already on the payroll.

              "You see, Corran is being subjugated by her sister planet, Kellaan. Kellaan shares an orbit very similar to Corran, in fact they overlap each other in some places. Kellaan was settled by the Corranians nearly a millennia ago when the technology was still quite primitive. There wasn't regular commerce, just a steady stream of settlers and refugees that wanted to escape the pollution and overcrowding of Corran's cities." Crisstof paused to take a long drink of a clear something that smelled like a distilled spirit before continuing.

             
"After the last planetary war on Corran, the two worlds lost contact with each other and set off down two very different social evolutionary paths. When they finally were able to communicate and visit after the technology caught up, there was a constant tension between the two.

             
"In recent years, an increasingly vocal contingent within the Corranian government has been advocating the more totalitarian, militaristic methods of the Kellaanians," he paused to take another drink.

              "Let me guess," Doc filled in the silence, "the movement caught on and before long were advocating a takeover by the Kellaan government."

              "Correct," Crisstof confirmed. "Through creative manipulation of the media, and in turn the population, they were able to convince people that it was in their best interest. This put the opposition in a dangerous place; if the Kellaanians actually attacked then they would be in serious danger. The Kellaan regime doesn't allow much in the way of dissenting opinion." 

              "So as soon as the attack and blockade happened you hired us to extract Senator Vongaard," Jason finished. Crisstof simply nodded as he looked out over the crowd.

              "Senator Vongaard is crucially important if we're to ask the ConFed Starfleet to step in. As the most respected member of the opposing minority, he would be the obvious choice to approach the council to plead his case. The Eshquarian government, while sympathetic, isn't a voting member of the Confederated Systems. Not only could they not petition the council on behalf of Corran, but any active assistance would be a violation of the treaty they entered.

             
"We're spinning this to look like the Senator escaped by his own ingenuity, and the story being told by the agents you left behind mostly confirms that," Crisstof finished his lengthy history lesson and leaned back.

              "I guess I'll ask what we're all thinking," Doc said. "What's this next job about?"

              "Ah... If you're open to the possibility, we'll discuss that tomorrow in a more secure locale," Crisstof said with a smile. "What I will promise you now, however, is that this job is in line with your code, your ideals. While it won't be strictly legal, it will help a lot of innocent people if you can pull it off." Jason opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a little girl's voice screeching in delight.

              "Lucky!!" They all turned and saw that Seleste, Senator Vongaard's youngest daughter, was almost at a full run before she flung herself into the arms of a very surprised battlesynth. Only his preternatural reflexes allowed him to bend quickly and break her headlong rush into him by picking her up.  

              "Seleste," he said, seeming genuinely happy to see her. "How are you enjoying your party this evening?"

              "It's great! But where's Crusher?" She asked.

              "He is off protecting the others right now as I stand watch over Captain Burke and Doc," he answered with a wink. Once he placed her back on the ground he noticed the attention he had garnered and moved back a step further from the light of the table lamp. He was saved from further scrutiny as the Senator and the rest of his family approached the table. Out of respect for him, many of the partygoers turned away to give them their privacy. The tale of their harrowing escape had been spreading and everyone was full of sympathy.
Or the closest thing to it the political class can manage.

              "Forgive me, Captain," Vongaard said with a smile. "She got away from us as we were getting ready to leave."

              "No apologies necessary, Senator," Jason said, returning the smile. "I'm sure it made Lucky's evening."

              After Senator Vongaard had collected his errant daughter and departed, the others agreed that it was a good time to adjourn their own deliberations as well. The three members of Omega Force agreed to meet with Crisstof the next day and then made their way around the perimeter of the ballroom to the side exit they had come in through.
At least they didn't make us sneak in through the kitchen.

             
Once outside, they stood in the cool night air and looked around. So far as they could tell, there was no sign of the vehicle. "Fucking typical," Jason quipped. "How far is it back to our rooms, Lucky?"

              "Two-point-one-seven kilometers," he answered without hesitation.

              "Walk?" Jason asked. When the others nodded they set off down the side street, letting Lucky and his impeccable sense of direction (and active sensors) lead the way.

              When they walked into their suite, there was evidence that there had been what could be called a struggle. Either that or a bomb had gone off in the room. “What. The. Fuck?” Jason asked to nobody in particular. “I’m assuming there is some sort of rational explanation for this.”

              “Look, Captain,” Kage began, holding a rag to his nose that looked to be soaked in greenish blood. “I know this looks bad, but almost all of it was an accident.” Jason held up a finger, demanding silence as he took in the rest of the room. One of the sofas was completely upended and a set of enormous feet, that could have only have belonged to Crusher, were sticking up in the air from the other side. Another large chair was smashed flat and there was broken glass covering much of the floor.

              “Where is Twingo?”

              “He’s in the bathroom… in his room,” Kage said. “But he’s probably wanting to just sleep it off,” he finished hurriedly. Jason stomped out of the room as Doc and Lucky rushed over to check on Crusher. Crunching over more broken glass, he went into the indicated bathroom and found Twingo unconscious, beat up, and laying in the shower stall with a wet rag on his head. After checking to see that he was still breathing, Jason decided to leave him where he was and walked back out into the common area. As he entered he saw that Lucky had Crusher sitting up on the one couch that wasn’t flipped over.

              “Ok, Kage,” he said calmly. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say this
didn’t
happen because three platoons of hardened marines charged into the room. So… start talking.” He leaned against the door frame to Twingo’s room and crossed his arms over his chest.

              “Hmm, where to start…” Kage said, looking for support from anyone in the room. “You knew the bar was fully stocked, right? Ok. Well we started drinking after you guys left, and then we started to get bored. We knew you’d be mad if we went walking around outside, so we started playing drinking games from our own homeworlds.”

I can already see where this is going…

             
“It started off tame enough, but then Crusher said we couldn’t handle the games his people played, so Twingo challenged him to play what he called ‘Stollanari Arm Wrestling’. He had Crusher make a fist and told him to pull it towards him with all his strength while he held onto it with both of his own hands. If he could get his fist out, he won.”

              “Then what?” Jason prompted.

              “Well, Crusher starts pulling towards himself, almost lifting Twingo off the floor,” Kage continued. “Then, Twingo just lets go and Crusher punched himself in the face as hard as he could. Twingo yelled, ‘You won!’ But then Crusher came after him, that’s what happened to that chair,” he pointed at the flattened piece of furniture, “and Twingo’s face… and body.” Crusher was sitting on the couch glaring at the smaller, four armed alien out of the eye that wasn’t swelled shut as he recounted the night’s events.

              “That explains
one
chair,” Jason said, still angry, but suddenly trying hard not to laugh. "Crusher, you actually beat up one of your own crewmates?" Jason was stunned.