“They’re coming,” Jaquan said, looking through the little scope he tended to carry in a pocket.

“Numbers?” Gaylen asked, joining his friend in the back of the speeding boat.

“Two boats,” Jaquan replied. “Coming fast. No lights.”

“Best keep our heads down,” Gaylen said and crouched.

He turned to Fredrak/Jan.

“Do you have backup nearby? Or a safe house?”

“Backup? No,” the man replied. “But I’m going to see about relative safety.”

“They’re gaining on us,” Jaquan said, and though Gaylen couldn’t see the boats he did catch them momentarily passing in front of a light.

Their own boat whizzed past the occasional floating platform or some other object, so Gaylen found it hard to demand more speed. But open water was a terrible location for a gunfight, and the subject stayed on the tip of his tongue for a couple of seconds, until they actually scraped up against some kind of buoy. The boat rocked wildly for a moment, and then dipped to the side a bit as their driver overcompensated.

“Sorry about that, sorry,” the man said. “I’m decent with boats, but no more than that.”

Gaylen saw one of those wide canals up ahead on the shore, packed with small vessels. Their driver now sent them into a rather sharp turn and headed in. They passed an overhead string of bright lights, and then were among floating homes and shops. Fredrak/Jan pulled the throttle back as the concentration of boats got thicker, then further still as he began having to zigzag between boats.

“Just to be clear: I was listening in,” the man said, shouting to be heard over the engine, the ocean spray and the surrounding noise of evening city life. “Do you really not have the keeper planetside?”

“We really don’t,” Gaylen told him.

“Well, that’s good and bad,” the man replied. “And we’d better talk things over.”

It was underneath a bridge that the boats got truly packed. So much so that passage through was surely a constant negotiation by the locals. Something they did not have time for. Looking back, Gaylen thought he saw two dark boats enter the canal.

Fredrak/Jan slowed the boat down to a crawl, leaving it drifting towards a tiny, floating outdoor kitchen.

“We’re going to have to be a bit rude here,” he told his passengers. “But the canal-dwellers are pretty used to it. Just head straight on without engaging anyone.”

Gaylen could tell what the plan was and clearly so could the other two, judging by the expectant tension in their bodies. The cook noticed their boat coming and shouted something indignant just before it bumped against his kitchen, rocking everyone involved.

The agent immediately leapt from the bow and onto the floating platform, and simply strode on by the somewhat less angry customers. Kiris was next, followed by Gaylen and then Jaquan. They hopped from raft to boat to platform to boat to dock to raft. There was no stopping, and while some complained no one actually tried to intercept them. Gaylen looked to the left and saw a woman traversing in much the same manner as their group, heading in a different direction.

“In here!” the agent said and made for a wide opening in the canal wall. Gaylen looked over his shoulder before following Kiris into the dark interior. He didn’t see their pursuers, but with all the little wheelhouses spread about that didn’t really mean much.

The space they hurried into had a faintly rotten smell, but thankfully they didn’t seem to be entering an actual sewer. Instead they’d entered into some kind of underworld, one of tunnels, time-worn metal gates, pipes that could fit a person, and the bottom of Nokior’s society.

The homeless lived in small, spaced-out colonies, using cloth and boards to make little mockeries of homes. Some things were the same all over. A few lights still survived, providing just enough illumination for them to get around, and Gaylen saw their guide nod at a couple of the locals in passing.

“This is a part of the old flooding system,” the agent said as he led them up a narrow flight of metal stairs. “Disused, but never really sealed off. The authorities ignore it, as it gives the undesirables somewhere to vanish off to.”

The same all over, Gaylen repeated to himself.

Their route seemed intended to hopefully confuse pursuit, heading in deeper but in a crooked fashion. They walked up another short flight of stairs, up onto a walkway that gave a bit of a view, then into a small room that had probably served some maintenance purpose.

“Right. This looks like a good spot for a chat.”

The agent moved over to a bit of waist-high piping, then turned and looked at the three of them in turn.

“Maybe one should keep a lookout?” he suggested.

“I’ll do it,” Jaquan said.

Of course, Gaylen thought as his friend stepped outside. Kiris had to stay for her observations, and Gaylen himself was simply more comfortable with talking than Jaquan.

They sat down opposite the man, and now that there was finally a moment’s peace, Gaylen did some observations of his own. The agent was tired, wired, and almost certainly relying on stimulants, but too seasoned to be all that upset by any of this.

“So, what kind of freelancers are you?” the agent asked after a brief silence.

“Plain ones,” Gaylen said. “Just running small freights on the Fringe.”

“These days,” the agent stated with a knowing look.

“Yes. These days. I have a lot of experience in the underworld. But I got out, got myself a ship, and then this whole thing fell into my lap.”

Gaylen fought to keep childish bitterness out of his voice.

“And I have brushed up against this kind of black ops stuff on occasion. Do you mind telling me what all that was?”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Oh... Heg-connected counter operation,” the agent said. “Replaced my contacts at that restaurant, and killed some of my other ones. I narrowly survived, and they’ve been after me ever since. I figured I’d defy conventional wisdom and hide right by the place, and managed to bug it. I was hoping to catch something to work with, or news of Black Tiger. Then you showed up, and now we’re being chased and shot at.”

The man shrugged and flashed a somewhat strung-out smile.

“You know... work stuff.”

“And what are we up against?”

“A professional cell,” the agent said. “At least five of them, from my observations. But it is rather easy to hire gunners around here. That was that eight-man team on the big boat. And now that that’s gone wrong for them, and they know how to get their prize, they might very well call in more on short notice.”

Gaylen took a moment to grumble on the inside. This was what he got for getting involved.

“Quite a turnout,” he said.

The agent nodded slowly and severely, the little bit of levity leaving his face.

“That’s no ordinary bit of salvage you have,” he said slowly.

“It isn’t, is it?” Kiris said. Gaylen gathered from her tone that she understood the full depth of how serious the man was.

“No,” the agent said.

He clasped his hands together and leaned forward.

“Now, can we talk about retrieving it?”

“Oh, there are some problems with that,” Gaylen said. “Both practical and... frankly, this feels like the time to just walk away.”

“I can arrange sixty thousand rils for you and your crew,” the agent told him. “I don’t have it on me, but I can arrange it.”

“We can’t spend money if we’re dead.”

The man digested his response silently for a few breaths. He glanced once at Kiris, and the woman simply kept up her silent, blank-faced appraisal.

“Do you want to take a guess as to what information is stored on that keeper?” he then asked Gaylen.

“I figure the less we know the safer we’ll be,” Gaylen replied.

“Humour me. Please.”

Gaylen shrugged.

“Stealth ship... equipped with batteries for a long trip... small crew... that part of space... fiercely wanted...”

He threw up his hands.

“They went scouting into Hegemony space. Checked out military bases, infrastructure centres, fleet concentrations, things like that. For the war that everyone knows is coming.”

“Oh, it’s basically started already,” the agent said. “But that’s a very logical assumption. That’s why it was made out to be the mission to almost everyone in the know. And hopefully the fact that the Heg assumes as much will help locate and close leaks. But that’s not it at all.”

“Then what is?” Gaylen asked with an air of disinterest. “Are you even supposed to tell me?”

“It’s the camps,” the agent told him, staring hard into Gaylen’s eyes.

No one spoke for a few seconds.

“Which camps, specifically?” Gaylen asked.

“The ones the Heg is always denying,” the agent told him. “The ones where their secret police brings dissidents, human rights activists, journalists and the... ‘subhuman’. Anyone inconvenient. Thousands and thousands of men, women and children, whisked off to three desolate planets and two deep space stations. Turned officially invisible, deleted from public files. And... well, you don’t exactly look naïve. You know how ugly this galaxy can get.”

“I do,” Gaylen replied.

He looked off into the darkness for a breath, then back at Fredrak/Jan.

“So... a rescue operation? That’s it?”

“Yes. The Black Tiger operation was for finding the camps and the details needed to send a small fleet in and liberate them. And that information is on that record keeper that you’ve hidden away somewhere.”

“Hm.”

Gaylen scratched his head.

“It makes sense,” he then said flatly. “A big morale win for the Federation. The Hegemony gets both shown up and exposed by direct witnesses and victims. The public gets a show of good versus evil, and the higher-ups get insider info. And the Heg leaders get shaken by such a blow. Not a bad operation, overall.”

“So cynical!” the agent said with somewhat exaggerated flair and threw up his hands. “For a Feddie boy. We’re the goodies!”

“So idealistic, for a shadow dweller,” Gaylen countered, feeling himself getting grumpy. He was reminded of his chat with the journalist a few weeks ago.

“I serve because I believe,” the agent replied.

If he’d simply read that sentence as text Gaylen might have assumed melodrama. But the man before him spoke with conviction.

“I know we’re reared on the oath,” Gaylen told him. “Told directly and indirectly how damn special and civilised the Federation is. That we are the inheritors of a legacy of light and justice. But you’ll still find places just like this.”

He indicated their grotty surroundings.

“Corrupt leaders,” he went on. “Greedy businesspeople. Poverty. Gangsters.”

Gaylen smiled humourlessly, and for a fleeting second wondered why he was even bothering.

“Same shit as everywhere else. Just painted over.”

“At least it’s an attempt,” the agent said in response. “A start. And really... who else is going to make one? It’s easy to complain about the things that go wrong, but it’s the Fed that pushes for democracy, recognition of native peoples, outlaws torture and... slavery.”

He glanced at Kiris.

“The Kingdom is a stagnant relic,” he continued. “The Holy Union is insane, dominated by screaming zealots that keep their people ignorant and afraid. Scorchspace is run by bestial thugs. The Fringe is a mess. The Freestates are just an umbrella term. If there is to be any source of law and justice in this galaxy it is the Federation.”

He let his words sink in for a few moments.

“Now, what do you say? Are you willing to talk about getting me that keeper? Or do you want some private time, now that your pet Chanei has had ample time to scrutinise me? I think-”

Kiris leaned forward and put her hand over the man’s mouth. She stared into his eyes.

“I am not a pet,” she stated coldly. “I am not.”

He sat still with her fingers on his face for a moment or two. Then he gently moved her hand away.

“Careless choice of words,” he said. “I am quite fatigued.”

“I can tell,” she said.

“Of course you can. You know, I worked with one of your kind once. Very useful fellow. Distractingly gorgeous; made me question my sexuality and I don’t think he was even trying. I think if you lot weren’t so distinctive-looking you’d make outstanding secret agents.”

“Change the subject,” Kiris told him simply and sat back down.

There was an air of those being her final words for now, and Gaylen and the agent focused on each other again.

“Which of your names do we use, anyway?” Gaylen asked.

“Just call me Fredrak. Jan is more of a codeword than a codename. Anyway; can we start with you at least giving me a general area for that keeper? How hard is it to get a hold of?”

“I stored it on Uktena Station,” Gaylen told him. “Did you hear the news?”

“About the siege?”

The agent made a clicking sound in his mouth.

“Yes. Yes, I did. That is a bit of a complication.”

“I really don’t think the station can stave off an actual battle fleet,” Gaylen said. “Not without outside help. I suppose our best case scenario is that they’ll eventually surrender, the station will simply change hands without too much destruction, and then I’ll be able to dock and get that keeper.”

Fredrak shook his head.

“Time is something of an issue here. I think-”

Jaquan stepped into view, and all three of them could tell something was up before he opened his mouth.

“People are coming. Searching. Angry. A whole bunch of them.”