17 Days Later. June 30th, 2265. 12:05 CNS Waukesha – Primary Airlock
John was wearing his grungiest-looking clothes. Which was rather difficult considering he didn’t own any thought that could be considered grungy. He also didn’t want to unnecessarily ruin any of his clothes by working grease and other detritus into his clothing to make them look the part.
His inner cheapskate, ironic for a man of his wealth, forbade him from doing that. That wasn’t exactly unique to John, most affluent people are loathed to waste money in specific ways. Ultimately John didn’t think it mattered because his appearance alone wasn’t going to result in him being placed into a life-threatening situation.
“Captain Hankinson entered the Dirty Pit fifteen minutes ago, sir,” Emily said over coms.
“Props to the bar owner for calling it that. And we’re sure he’s the captain of the Void Runner?” John said as he made his way to the primary airlock.
“Yes sir. We’ve also contacted the station. The IMS Void Runner isn’t leaving the station until we give them the authorization to do so.”
“I’m guessing we don’t have eyes on the Icarus?” John sighed.
“Were we so lucky, sir? Lieutenants Cohen and Davis have already engaged three pirate vessels between the two of them. They are tracking down potential bases.”
“Good. Thank you, Emily, keep using all the resources we have at our fingertips to track down the Icarus.”
“Will do, sir.”
John was about to say something when he turned his head and spied Damian. His first officer was waiting at the airlock. John groaned internally as he looked at him wearing the most preppy of preppy clothing.
“What the shit?” John said.
The two guards at the airlock immediately lost their composure and began giggling like idiots. Damian was very confused at his captain’s outburst. John stepped in front of Damian.
“Untuck the shirt and ditch that blazer. Short of making you change that will work best,” John said as he grabbed Damian by the shoulders and twisted him around a bit.
“Sir, dress protocols while on duty are very clear.”
John tried so hard to ignore that comment but the groan and rolling of his eyes were noticed by everyone. He took a step back and took a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He opened his eyes again and looked at Damian before rubbing his forehead.
“We are kind of undercover. I say kind of because neither one of us looks the part but at least we’re going someplace that people like us wouldn’t go to. Plus, I’d prefer to not be shot at. I fucking hate it when that happens,” John grinned as he patted Damian’s shoulder, “First time eh? When one goes undercover those dress regs are suppressed.”
“Yes, it is, sir.”
“Cool, just follow my lead. I got this in case shit goes sideways,” John brandished his Sig Sauer P410 handgun, “I’m not expecting to use this as a general FYI. Well, let’s go pop your cherry. But that blazer is going, good going.”
John looked around the cargo hold and spied a pair of petty officers doing stock checks.
“Petty Officer Ramirez, right?” John shouted over to the pair.
Ramirez stood up and faced John immediately and saluted before walking toward them, “Yes, sir.”
“I apologize for pulling you from your duty. But can you bring back this god-awful thing to the First Officer’s quarters?” John said as he tossed the colorful coat to the Petty Officer, “Much appreciated.”
Damian was still a bit stunned by all that had transpired. The guards had lost all their composure and were laughing quietly behind the pair of officers. John wanted to get moving before he started to laugh, he pointed through the airlock.
While they were walking through the umbilical John smiled and slapped his first officer’s shoulder again, “We’re heading to the Dirty Pit. It’s a dive bar on the lower levels. Since we’ve got time, I’ll let you know what kind of a shitshow I found myself in my first undercover mission.”
Damian, still in a bit of shock over what had happened in the preceding few minutes, asked innocently, “What went down?”
“Got shot twice and stabbed once. Killed my target at least. But man, I made every fucking rookie mistake in the book.”
As the men walked into the station Damian was horrified at John’s story. He grew deeply worried about the mission they were on and was genuinely worried that a terrible fate awaited them. John’s lack of concern for their well-being only compounded those feelings. His assurances that, unlike his first undercover mission, this one wouldn’t be like that fell on deaf ears.
13:10 Caldera Station – Lower Level 3B Red Light District
The pair of officers continued their trek into the lower levels of the station. Neither one would answer that they honestly wanted to be in this seedy and dank district. Propositions from prostitutes were endless. Damian noticed that John was physically repulsed by a great many of them which he found curious.
“Sir, I didn’t know you were gay.”
John laughed, “My dude if my wife found out where I was, she’d probably go on a killing spree that may or may not include me.”
“Your reaction…” Damian let the comment hang.
“I can literally smell the STDs from them. Back when I was single, I loved going undercover. Got laid more than a few times while doing my duty,” John said with a grin, “That was cool.”
“There it is, the Dirty Pit,” Damian shook his head as he pointed ahead.
“They weren’t lying,” John grunted as he pulled his tablet out of his picket, “Emily, in sixty seconds, have the station send a message to Captain Ramirez that his ship’s flight plan has been rejected and that the freighter will be locked down.”
The pair of officers walked to the bouncer. John tossed a credit chit to the burly man who immediately let them skip the line. Both officers stopped and looked at the long line waiting to enter the bar.
“Holy hell,” John said as he tapped the bouncer’s shoulder, “There’s actually a line to enter this shit hole of a bar.”
The bouncer shrugged.
Damian shook his head, “I’m at a loss for words. Why?”
John shrugged as they walked into the building and headed toward the primary bar. He quickly glanced at his watch. In under a minute, he figured the captain of the freighter would lose his mind. Just as he looked up the bartender was looking right at John.
“What’ll you have?” the rough-looking woman said in her raspy voice.
“Uhm, I’ll have a double Elijah Craig Single Barrel. Damian, you want anything?”
“We’re on duty, sir.”
John wore a dumb look on his face, “Right, so you want something?”
Damian gave John a look he was quite familiar with. John gave an insistent look, but he received no confirmation of anything back. He shrugged and looked back at the bartender.
“Don’t suppose you have any non-alcoholic beers?”
The bartender sighed loudly as she set John’s drink in front of him, “We do.”
“Cool, he’ll have one of those. Keep the change,” John said as he handed another credit chit over.
John picked up the glass and took a drink as he scanned the room.
The bartender handed Damian his bottle of piss water. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that neither of the two gentlemen she just served belonged there. It wasn’t just their dress but their mannerisms. The two odd men held themselves differently than the normal rabble found here. Curiosity got the better of her. She had to know why they were here.
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“I don’t suppose you’d find it rude of me to ask why you are here?”
John grinned as he took another drink, “I do find it rude, but I suppose you’ve already put two and two together that neither of us belongs here.”
“To be fair, you could fit in down here if your clothes weren’t so damn clean. But Poindexter over here,” the bartender said, “Sticks out like a sore thumb.”
John turned around and chuckled, “Too colorful right?”
“Very. Colors aren’t a thing down here,” the bartender answered.
At that moment there was a commotion along the back wall at three tables. One man was screaming into his tablet. Several of the party immediately ran past them. The man in authority continued his tirade as he spilled several drinks.
“Don’t suppose that’s Captain Ramirez?”
“It is,” the bartender smirked, “He’s a good customer. I’d prefer if y’all didn’t kill him.”
John finished his drink and turned around, “Kill him, I’m here to save the stupid bastard. Pour me another double if you will.”
After receiving his next drink, the pair of officers bid adieu to the bartender and walked towards the mess at the back of the room. Several prostitutes looked annoyed that drinks were spilled on them and were wiping themselves off. No one at the tables appeared to be in a good mood. John took a drink and smiled as he pulled a chair away from the table and sat down.
“I’m a little busy and not exactly in the mood to be in the company with you,” Captain Ramirez said as he slammed his tablet into the table.
“Do I really give off a vibe that leads you to believe that I give a single fuck what you want to do?” John said before setting his drink on a clean part of the table.
“I said get out of…”
John pulled out his gun and set it on the table facing the captain.
“Captain, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Now I really don’t want to deal with the paperwork the hard way. My first officer here,” John gestured to Damian who was standing behind him, “Would be seriously put off were I to delegate said paperwork to him.”
“Why are you Confederate Navy fucks down here in the asscracks of nowhere?”
“Looking for you. Thanks for that by the way. Between you me and the walls, I prefer a much higher-class establishment. Though the bartender's service was quite good, so I’ll give this joint credit where credit is due.”
“We don’t…”
“Captain, shut up and listen to me. And listen closely. I know you aren’t trafficking any people or hard drugs. Because of that anything that you honestly tell me isn’t going to get you into trouble. Even when it should,” John took a drink and paused to savor the amber liquor, “I’m not here to bust your balls if you're transferring some pot, hash, weapons, or whatever it is the puritans out here banned. If you have any of that shit on board, I seriously don’t care. Again, I’m not here to bust your balls over that.”
Captain Ramirez looked at John cautiously, not quite believing his ears. Silence ruled the table for an uncomfortable amount of time. Ramirez looked like he was going to speak several times but stopped because he was still processing what he said.
Eventually, he spoke up, “So you aren’t here to arrest or inspect anything?”
“No.”
“Well shit, what do you want then?”
“Why is the Icarus trying to kill you?” John asked directly.
“Do you know about the Red Moon’s Edge group?”
John nodded.
“Who are they?” Damian asked.
“A bunch of Alliance malcontents that defected six years ago. Been mercenaries and pirates since then. Gunrunning is their thing,” John said, “Problem is they absconded with some new ships that weren’t fully equipped.”
“We were hired to deliver a shipment of weapons to the Icarus. Well, during our dealings with them, my former first officer sold part of the shipment for the Icarus to these crazy cats. When I contacted the Icarus to admit to what happened I’m sure you can imagine how pissed off they got,” Captain Ramirez said.
John chuckled quietly before taking a drink, “Those weapons were for the Icarus, but your former idiot of a fist officer sold them off to the Alliance fuckwits. Icarus still pissed with you?”
“Welcome the hell that is my life,” Ramirez shook his head, “I’ve refunded them the fee we collected and already sourced some replacements, at my cost. I’d rather not be anywhere near them just in case.”
“Captain, we should be able to use that to our advantage,” Damian said to John.
John nodded, “I presume you met them in open space to deliver the cargo to the Red Moon’s Edge?”
Captain Ramirez nodded.
“Do you have sensor readings of their ships? Do they know you had more weapons onboard?” John asked as he pulled a small data slate from a pocket on his coat, “Also, transfer all data you have on both ships to that now.”
“How are you going to protect us?”
“Oh, I got a plan, but first things first. Data, now,” John said calmly.
Captain Ramirez pulled out his tablet and entered a few things into it. He then tapped it on top of the data slate. Its screen lit up and volumes of data were transferred over near instantaneously. Eve was monitoring the data and displayed a brief summary of what the traitors had done to their ships.
“Weird,” John said to no one in particular, “I thought I had turned her runtimes off. Ok, their fleet is made up of eight ships, confirming the intel. Not well armed, but well armored. We should be able to take care of this.”
“There is a rumor that their mothership is a battlecruiser,” Captain Ramirez said, “If you are willing to help, I should at least let you know what the underworld believes.”
“Much appreciated,” Damian said.
“Now, how are you going to save us?” Captain Ramirez said impatiently.
“Your insurance on your ship up to date?”
“No, why?”
John laughed, “If you don’t have the cash reserves to replace the ship yourself, you best collect money from your crew. I can save you and yours, but your ship is likely going to get turned to slag.”
Captain Ramirez’s eyes opened widely, “You can’t be serious. That’s my…”
“Livelihood. I know,” John said sarcastically, “Won't have a livelihood if you are dead. The money from insurance ought to let you acquire a new freighter. There isn’t exactly a shortage of those ships for sale.”
“You know damn well that our reputation is tied to the ship.”
John nodded, “And imagine what your reputation is going to be like when you decided to help the Navy end the Red Moon’s Edge and survived. As for the Icarus, you best find whatever channels you have to contact them and let them know their gear is on this station.”
“Right. Yeah…” Ramirez began grinning, “That could work, but how are…”
“You let me handle that,” John said finishing his drink and standing up, “We’ll be in touch.”
The pair of officers strode away from the table. John clipped his holster onto his belt and let his shirt fall in front of it. Damian couldn’t agree with everything John had done. But the results couldn’t be ignored. They had a treasure trove of intel, along with a potential means of contacting the Icarus.
“Well done, sir. I’ll admit I didn’t see that coming.”
“Ended better than I had hoped,” John said gruffly, “Man, I need to take a fucking shower.”
Damian laughed, but then paused when John stopped and looked back at him.
“When we get back to the ship, I want Vanessa and Brady to slowly work their way into the inner asteroid belt. Their movements need to be slow and methodical so as to not alert anyone’s suspicion. Three days before we close the trap, they need to go quiet.”
“Understood, I’ll get that order sent out.”
“With any luck, we’ll be able to kill two birds with one stone,” John smiled as they continued to walk through the station.
1 Day Later. July 1st, 2265. 08:00 CNS Waukesha – Captain’s Ready Room
The screen to the side of John’s desk was split into two. On the left was Brady who clearly didn’t like the plan that John was outlining. Vanessa’s reaction was generally the opposite, she appreciated the lengths they were willing to go to.
“A show of force…”
“Would scare them off,” Damian said, “We’re fighting traitors, honor means nothing to them, why should we show them any honor.”
“We need them to think they are fighting at an advantage. That’s why both squads will fire up their slip engines as loudly as you can, then go dark immediately thereafter.”
“Then we attack them on their flanks. We don’t need survivors. Just end them and their capabilities to continue their bullshit,” Vanessa said.
“I still don’t like it. What about the Icarus?”
John shrugged, “The freighter’s captain pulled in every favor he had to get a message out to them. A message was sent back to him that seemed to imply they accepted the response. Whether or not that got him off their kill list I cannot say.”
“Not our concern, to be frank,” Damian said.
The captains nodded in agreement.
“So how long do we have?” Vanessa asked.
“Thirteen or fourteen days. We’ve already made some noise on the station about the Void Runner,” John grinned, “All legit sounding bullshit. We know another one of those Alliance prototype vessels jumped into the system four hours ago. Went dark immediately after it jumped into the system. Passive scanners are trying to find them, but we won’t have much luck with that.”
“What’s the gist of your scheme?” Brady asked.
“Plan. It’s not a scheme,” Vanessa quickly corrected her fellow captain.
“We’re going to remotely operate the Void Runner. The story we’re running is that she’ll be escorted out of the Magmatican Prime’s jurisdiction. The locals didn’t want to store the ship's weaponry at the station. Near the inner asteroid belt, which happens to be both densely packed and a conveniently awful place for non-military vessels to jump into slipstream from,” John said.
“Your wings will be running dark. Numerically they should have an advantage on us and press the attack,” Damian said as he changed the image, “The corvettes will be held back inside our kinetic shields to add to our point defense capabilities. I have a feeling the Alliance types will ignore the frigates and destroyers and go after the Waukesha.”
“How are you going to prevent them from disengaging and jumping away?” Brady asked, “It wouldn’t be too difficult for them to turn tail and run.”
“That’s where the location primarily plays the role well. But the missile boats also factor in here. The eggheads came up with a rocket that can temporarily interdict ships,” John smiled, “That’s our ace in the hole. The effect ought to last forty-five minutes and they have a healthy reserve. If nothing else it gives R&D some actual data to use.”
“What if that battlecruiser shows up?” Damian asked.
“Battlecruiser?” Brady asked, “Intel says nothing about that. They have a battle cruiser?”
John shook his head, “The underworld believes that to be the case. Our intel suggests this group never absconded with anything bigger than a heavy cruiser. That’s where the missile frigates come into play. We’ll plan for the worst-case scenario and hope that it doesn’t exist.”
“How confident is the source of that intel?” Vanessa said, “That is to say, our source doesn’t believe this organization has a battlecruiser.”
“Quite certain,” John said, “But again, we’ll have to account for the worst-case scenario. It’s only prudent to do so. Alright, you have a couple of days to wrap up the stuff you’re doing out there before you begin moving in. Have your senior staff review the plan. Submit any feedback as soon as possible. Godspeed to us all.”
Damian stood up as the communication ended, “Do you trust the source?”
John shook his head, “No. I don’t. But this theft happened when I was still mostly friendly with them. The information clearly stated the number and class of ships. No battlecruisers were on it.”
“Let’s hope they didn’t try to hide that shit from the rest of the galaxy.”
John grunted as he began some paperwork. Damian left the room to attend to his duties. Their first battle was soon to come. John couldn’t help but feel a bit of nervousness about the coming mission. If the intel was accurate, they should be able to win without taking any casualties. But the thing about conflict, nothing was ever certain. Confident as John may be, even he was concerned about the optics of what was just about to occur.