“I’m going to pass you off as my personal servants and bed warmers. Can you handle that?” They nodded. “By the way, how long have you two been here and how old are you?”
“I’m fifteen, and he’s fourteen, and we’ve been here for um…” Terrance looked at Remy, seeing his shrug. “I think we’ve been here for about two years, sir, but it’s difficult to keep track of time.” Penn’s jaw tightened, the muscles along his jaw line bunching up, making the boys draw back a little.
“Var Petofi didn’t treat us badly… didn’t beat us too much.” They both looked at the floor, both blushing in shame.
“It isn’t your fault, and that piece of filth has paid the price. No one is ever going to treat you that way ever again, or beat you. Understand?” They looked up and nodded.
“Trooper E’shee reporting, sir.”
“Good. Here’s what I want you to do.” Penn carefully explained what he wanted, seeing E’shee smile.
“I can do that, sir, but it might take me a while. I’ll have to go down to the main concourse for some of what I need.”
“No problem, but take someone with you just in case. Report to me as soon as you’ve finished. While E’shee was off following his orders, Penn used the time to rob the rest of the citizens on the station. They only got into two firefights, both with the local crime lords who thought their armies were tough enough to take on Imperial Trooper’s in full battle armor. They were wrong. He picked those two first, as it made robbing the rest that much easier.
“That went well, sir.” Brask grinned looking down at the scorched blaster marks on the front of his armor.”
“Told you to duck.”
“Have you tried ducking in full power armor, sir?”
“No, can’t say that I have.”
“Thought not.”
“Speaking of which. I think you and the troops need to smarten up your armor. Gloss black with a gold stripe down each arm.”
“Make us look real pretty painted like that.”
“Yes, and hell of a sight more intimidating. You are a special trooper assigned to um… let’s call it Department X.”
“Yes, sir. That could work out nicely. I’ll find a suit paint shop and get it done.”
Using robo-mules, Brask arranged for the loot to be transported to the ship, adding several hundred thousand gold credits to his total. Looking ahead, Penn could see a need for ready capital, not only to bribe people as needed but also to buy critical supplies, or special weapons. In all it took another day before they were ready to depart, and check out the results of E’shee’s work. It actually came out a lot more impressive than he’d thought, as E’shee had added a few touches of his own. Standing by the port at the end of the loading dock, Penn waited until everyone except he and Brask had boarded before walking aboard himself. Brask followed, walking backward just in case there was some last-ditch effort to prevent them from leaving, cycling the hatch shut as he went through himself.
“You look very impressive, Sergeant Brask, and I like the nice touch with the scarlet short cloaks for the troopers.”
“I didn’t want anyone thinking we were just ordinary Imperial Marines, sir.”
“No, we wouldn’t want that. Make sure you get separate quarters for you and the troops once we get aboard the flagship.”
“Will do, sir. Us special troops wouldn’t want to mix with the rest of the rabble.” With his helmet on, it was difficult to know if he was laughing or not, but Penn suspected he was. Entering the bridge, Penn took his usual seat.
“Everything ready for departure, pilot?”
“Yes, sir. All loaded up with fuel and supplies, sir.”
“Good. Take us out and head for the flagship. I’m sure they will be calling you with landing instructions very soon.”
“Yes, sir.”
The short journey went without incident, as Penn suspected it would, but you could never tell with nervous Tellurians. Blowing his ship to space dust might solve a lot of problems for any number of people in the Fleet. They came in on a glide path that took them to a landing bay near the bow of the flagship and the bridge. Even so, Penn took the opportunity to shower and change, finding that Brask was foresighted enough to arrange for another uniform for him. Coming out of the shower, he found both boys busily laying out his new clothes. Oddly, Penn felt slightly embarrassed being naked in front of them. More so than the boys themselves, but he supposed that after two years in the hands of that scum-sucking pervert seeing a nude man walking around no longer had the same effect on them. He quickly pulled on underwear and took the pants Rem held out for him.
“Hey, you needn’t do this you know. You’re free now.” Rem smiled shyly at him.
“We know, sir, but we are your personal servants now, right?”
“No - no. That’s only to get you on board the flagship and a cover, it’s not for real.” Terrance looked at him and smiled.
“We know. I… we guess we’d better act the part at least.” He answered, handing Penn a white silk shirt. Penn eyed it and the lace cuffs and ruffled front.
“What’s this?”
“We took it and some other things from Var Petofi’s room at Sergeant Brask’s suggestion. He said you’d want to look the part of a…” He hesitated and looked embarrassed. “Um… someone who likes boys.” He said in a rush. Penn nodded. It made sense.
He finished dressing, stamping his feet into the shiny high-topped boots and took the coat Rem held out. He shrugged into it and looked in the mirror, shaking his head. The high collared, cut away jacket was the same midnight black as the pants and boots. Unlike his other one, the high collar was open at the front permitting the ruffle on the silk shirt to show. It also had two rows of shiny gold buttons down the front and the twin IMPSEC lightning bolts on the collar. Penn thought to put his rank insignia over his breast pocket but thought better of it. If E’shee had done his work right, there was no need for it. The boys made him into sit while they trimmed and brushed his short blond hair, and cleaned and buffed his fingernails.
“Docking with the flagship, sir.” Brask announced, knocking and ducking into his cabin. “Oh nice. Very nice, sir. That should impress the hell out of them.”
“It impresses the hell out of me. What made you think of it?” He asked looking down at his clothes.
“I’ve always noticed that the damned Var dress up like they were going to a party instead of like working officers like they should. The higher the rank, the more gaudily they dress.”
“You’ve got that right.”
“So, you have to out do them in clothes and snotty attitude.” He grinned. A slight thump vibrated through the ship and they knew they were down in the shuttle bay.
“Let’s get the bloody show on the road and hope we carry this off.” Pen muttered, putting his shades on. The only thing he was a little upset about was the fact he couldn’t wear his knives in this getup. All he could do was rely on his super human speed if everything went sideways.
It was a scary thought even for Penn. His usual mode of operation was stealth and staying in the shadows to get to his objective. Depending on Markoff’s orders, the kill was either clean or messy. Clean would be an accident, like the capture field at the bottom of a drop shaft failing, or the unfortunate individual falling into some working equipment. Messy would be someone finding the body with its throat cut from ear to ear and a slowly spreading pool of blood. It all depended on the message Markoff wanted to send to the Var elite, or to simply eliminate a particular Var who’d become a nuisance, or had just pissed him off. Either way, mostly not even the victim knew he was there until the poor bugger got his throat slit. This time he would be out in the open for all to see, and for an assassin that wasn’t a comfortable feeling. Not only would he be under the gun, so to speak, but also subject to scrutiny by the flagship’s bio scanners. To put it mildly, there was a certain pucker factor in this and the distinct possibility of not being able to catch up with Ellis. That thought scared him more than he liked to admit. It was either carry this off and rescue her, if she needed rescuing, or failing and losing his life and Ellis.
“You look pretty impressive yourself, Sergeant Brask.” He said, eyeing the seven-foot tall armored suited Estarian, now all shiny black from helm to foot. The gold stripe down his arms was a nice touch, as was the short blood red cape hanging down his back from one shoulder.
“The troops thought a red cape would stand out from the others so they’d know who the leader was.”
“Good point. Let go.” Before he could, Rem rushed forward and grabbed his left arm.
“Don’t forget this, sir.” He murmured softly and carefully tucked the yellow lace handkerchief into the cuff of his jacket, leaving four inches hanging. Penn smiled down at him and ruffled his hair in thanks.
“Thank you, Remy. You’ll have to remind me where to use it.”
“Yes, sir Penn.”
Penn marched out of the cabin with the two boys dressed in pink lacy outfits three paces behind him, and the black bulk of Brask thumping behind them. The few crewmembers they met immediately moved aside for the little cavalcade, looking scared. Scaring them was one thing, frightening a bunch of snotty nosed Var was another. Reaching the rear ramp, Penn paused a moment, seeing booted feet lining up at the bottom. Schooling his features into a cold mask, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, projecting a look of cold confidence and haughty disdain. Brask and others had told him he projected an aura, not that he could see or feel it himself or understand what it did to other people. He just hoped that whatever it was worked on these Var. Right now, he needed all the help he could get. Placing his hands behind his back, he paced slowly down the ramp and came to a halt at the bottom. Trust the Var to go overboard. They’d lined up an honor guard for him, something usually reserved for admirals or very senior officers.
“Welcome aboard.” A middle aged Var said, stepping forward and saluting. “I’m Captain… um… Admiral Danoff.” A look of surprise and contempt on his face. Maybe he hadn’t realized that Penn was human until this moment. Penn eyed the Var up and down and sniffed, his upper lip curling up slightly, making Danoff color. The Var hated someone outdoing them in the disdain department.
“Yes, I see.” Penn answered looking around at the assembled honor guard and not even bothering to return Danoff’s salute. “Let’s get on with it. I don’t have all day to stand around gossiping like a Surl wash woman.”
He marched forward, forcing Danoff to quickly step to one side and fall in step beside him. The clump of steel booted feet on the ramp made him look round, seeing five, black armored figures walk down the ramp behind two flowery dressed young boys. The look of fear on the honor guard’s face told Penn all he needed to know. Uncertainty was the look on the faces of the senior officers waiting at the end of the line. Penn didn’t even bother stopping to talk, or be introduced to them, but continued walking toward the huge cargo elevator instead of the lift tube. This way all of them, including his ‘guard’ could go up at the same time. That caught Danoff and the others off guard and they quickly changed directions only to be prevented from boarding by Sergeant Brask. With his rifle at high port, he waited until the massive blast doors started to close before stepping backward into the elevator. Penn touched his earpiece.
“That should piss them off nicely.”
“That was my thought, sir.” Brask chuckled.
The elevator stopped at officer country, the doors opening to reveal carpeted decks and richly paneled bulkheads instead of the gray-coated steel elsewhere. Here and there paintings of one sort or another were bolted to the walls along the passageway to the bridge all designed to intimidate the poor souls from below deck who’d had the misfortune of being brought, or ordered up here. The Var didn’t mix with the Surl crew if it could be avoided. Any interaction was done by comm systems, or junior officers were sent down to conduct any shipboard business needing the presence of an officer. To Penn’s mind, it was a shitty system, but one he was familiar with. Penn walked onto the bridge, and before anyone could say ‘officer of deck’, he took the Admiral’s seat. His black guard marching in behind him, took up positions beside the main hatchway while Brask took up a position behind his chair. The boys knelt down on either side, playing the part of submissive boy toys to perfection. That was the tabloid that confronted Admiral Danoff and his senior officers when they came rushing in.
“So glad you could join us at last, Admiral.” Penn took out the yellow handkerchief and waved it under his nose at a slight touch on his leg from Rem.
He crossed his legs and brushed imaginary dust away as he surveyed the bridge. The layout of the controls were standard for an Imperial ship, with engineering, environmental/life support and damage control on the left, tactical and weapons systems in the center of the horseshoe, and shield, sensors, communications controls on the right. The twin helm seat was centered below the Admiral and Captain’s seat. Unlike older designs, this ‘bridge’ was buried deep within the ship’s hull for protection. It should rightfully have been called the combat information center, or CIC, but, Var being what they are, they liked to give themselves airs and pretend this was the bridge of an old style man-of-war where they could stand proudly and face their enemy and trade shot for shot. Stupid really in a battle where nuclear weapons were used indiscriminately.
“Now that we are all here, I need to get this fleet moving…” Before he could continue, a group of Tellurians came rushing onto the bridge. Their leader halted and looked around, his face pulling into a deep frown. Penn felt his butt pucker. Here it comes, he thought, the big sell. The leader stalked across the deck and came to a halt in front of him one-step down from Penn’s seat. That fact didn’t sit well with him.
“And you are?” Penn asked, looking the Tellurian up and down, his lip curling up in disdain.
“I’m Commander Silkoff of Imperial Security, and the Security Chief, and I want to know who the hell you are, and why you are here?” His face reddening.
“Commander Silkoff, what is the meaning of this?”
“My apologizes Cap… Admiral, but this… human didn’t register on the ship’s bio scanner.”