“Young man, I can commiserate with you and your mother’s current situation, but it’s out of my hands. As I’ve already stated, a formal request for the antibiotic was sent through the proper channels. Regarding whether or not that request is fulfilled depends on the closest available station’s schedule and workload for the current business period. All I can offer you is my word that I'll reach out if we receive any prudent updates on the matter. Are we clear?”
Despite nearing the end of his second month at his new post, the young clerk still hadn’t warmed up to nor made much of an effort to connect with any of the local townsfolk. Often driving them away with logistical jargon whenever they came to him making what he considered absurd requests. Only Wash had built up a resistance to the eccentric tactic, thanks in large part to his daily visits to the location. The town’s new government bureau office.
“Maybe if you sent another request, to help them understand how urgent—!”
“I’m afraid that’s not how things work here. Even if I humored your little request, they’d only connect it to the existing one and flag it as an administrative error. In a worst-case scenario they might even misconstrue the intent of the follow-up as an attempt to force my own ward’s problems to the front of a VERY long line. Now unless you have another matter that requires my attention, we’re done here.”
The bleak man narrowed his already sharp eyes in a silent form of challenge. Content none would come, he returned to the stack of paperwork in front of him. Leaving Wash to ball his fists in frustration. Both at the inconvenience of the so-called ‘proper channels’ and himself. Suddenly feeling very taxed by the exchange, he removed himself from the bureau and resumed his trip back to the ironworks. At least there he could exhibit some measure of control, even if it only extended to the products he created from the smelted ore.
Roughly half the town relied on said ironworks for employment, but neither Wash nor his mother ever imagined that he’d contribute to that number someday. At such a young age no less. Granted his working there was seen as a temporary solution to his mother’s absence. Given her deteriorating condition it had fallen to Wash to pick up her regular shifts so they could support themselves. What with the money that his mother had saved up beforehand already exhausted by a combination of living costs and medical bills. Something that would have come to pass no matter how frugally they’d been living.
The one saving grace being that Wash was quite skilled with his hands. And while the gap in experience was too wide to compare to his mother’s abilities, he’d proven more than capable of meeting her quotas.
Despite this his mother remained adamant that he should quit the ironworks and let her lose her position. Convinced her illness had come about due to the long periods working in what could be a very unforgiving environment. Seeing that her affliction was respiratory related, those suspicions likely weren’t far off. And while he doubted a few months would be long enough for the welding fumes and mineral fibers to do any permanent damage, Wash still took steps to limit exposure by intermittently using a mask.
Arriving at the front entrance of the ironworks he exchanged some pleasantries with the other arriving workers. The spouses of some of which took turns visiting his mother during the day to check up on her condition. Wash did his utmost to express gratitude whenever he ran into one of them in town but was often waved off. Explaining they were only returning the favor for all the time his mother had spent looking out for their partners in the workplace.
It could be said that Wash experienced the benefits of a close-knit community at a young and impressionable age. The first of many different communities he’d come to appreciate in his life.
*
“Are you so desperate to keep your new position that you’d throw away the opportunity we have here!”
Reed stormed his way up to the party leader but was ignored by the man as he busied himself with a map of the region he’d laid out on the top of his wider than normal bike frame. Another party member by the name of Matus going over something with him.
“Say your piece and go Reed, we’re busy revisiting some plans.”
Reed proceeded to remove one of his lantern shields and thrust it downwards through the map the two had been digesting. But rather than blanch at his display of anger both men regarded him with mild irritation.
“I just got word that the little welcome party you sent out to open hostilities was chased off with its collective tail between its legs! The very same I argued against sending! Now they’re wise to our involvement in the tunnels!”
“Sounds like they’ve served their purpose, you ought to be over praising them instead of picking fights with me.”
Reed grabbed Hite by the collar of his shirt and backed him against a nearby limestone deposit. Matus made to reach for a firearm concealed on his person but stopped short after his leader raised a steady hand.
“I suggest you start making sense before I settle the leadership dispute for good!”
Hite purposefully remained silent for a moment or two. Long enough for his subordinate to realize how unbecoming this scene was for someone striving to earn and maintain the respect of his comrades. Or better yet, if Baugh himself would ever stoop to such a lowly outburst.
“I meant for them to learn about our underground game, gives them one more thing to worry about.”
Reed’s hold loosened as he took a deep breath, needing some of the red to fade so he could consider the party leader’s reply.
“And you’re telling me such a meager objective justifies our losses?”
“That depends, how many did we lose?”
The inquiry into the casualties coincided with the firm hand of Matus coming to a rest on Reed’s shoulder, prompting him to release Hite and take a step back.
“Two dead, one missing...”
“You say missing but I find it hard to believe our Hussards failed to keep track of such a modest force.”
“It was Emica. And according to the report she was taken captive.”
Hite dusted himself off and approached the map once again, removing the lantern shield with remarkable ease despite it having punctured the frame. Handing it off to Matus who tossed it back over to Reed with a grin.
“You don’t say...she predates even you if I’m not mistaken.”
“Barely.”
“Didn’t realize it was a competition. Then again if the runner-up for last place was awarded the position of party leader, it must be a fruitless one.”
Reed’s countenance darkened once more and an animalistic growl escaped him.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“More like I don’t want to. Honestly, it’s moments like these I begin to miss Roy.”
This comment earned him looks of wariness from both men present, something he expected but felt no regret or concern over.
“Either way Ms. Emica’s presence onboard a Crusader will be more of a handicap for the LCF than a benefit. Because at some point they’ll be forced to leave her alone. At which point the threat that she might do something will do more damage psychologically than any action she actually takes.”
“And if she coughs up intel on the castles we’re occupying?”
Hite smoothed out the creases in the map and began folding it neatly.
“Only way that woman will talk is if she thinks it’s to her benefit.”
“You’re saying she won’t chirp unless she believes the LCF has a chance.”
“Which is why we won’t give them one.”
Hite wouldn’t admit to it out loud, but he did have his reservations about the woman. Hence the reason he placed her in the welcome party to begin with. Granted the source of his caution was unrelated to her having any affiliation with Reed’s faction. He’d approached her and other senior members about joining his own budding group after all. And it was the fact she didn’t seem to go either way that made him question where her allegiances lay. One didn’t stay in the game this long without them.
“Time to move out, the processions getting closer and I want to make sure we have good seats.”
*
“Wash! You still keep antiseptic wipes on you? Stemming Faust’s blood loss proved to be messier than I anticipated.”
The pilot didn’t look back at Lux or move to retrieve the wipes himself, his entire focus remaining on the narrow road in front of them.
“Left drop pouch. They’re lemon scented.”
“Of course they are...”
Lux went about unzipping and rifling through the disorganized pouch, to the tune of chatter reverberating from the nearby speaking tubes. The main culprit being the tube that connected to the engine room. Nice to know Cade wasn’t wasting any time in starting his roundabout interrogation.
“Oi, you better not be getting Faust’s blood all over my stuff.”
“Can’t be helped, didn’t have time to procure medical gloves before leaving Varza. And I wasn’t about to go digging around Youn’s drop pouch for them while Faust was clinging to consciousness.”
Wash frowned as Lux finally acquired the aforementioned wipes and ripped them open with her teeth.
“Will he be able to remain part of the rotation?”
“I’m listing him as doubtful for the remainder of the convoy. Sat his ass down in the cargo bay with plenty of water and some raisins in the meantime.”
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
“You forgot gloves but remembered to bring raisins?”
“We were in the commissary when the summons was made. Grabbed ‘em on the way out.”
Lux returned the wipes to the drop pouch with her now clean hands and called out over her shoulder as she zipped it closed again.
“Feel free to relay that updated injury report Katsurn! And while you’re at it, did the others report any casualties?”
Jericka crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair.
“If I’m free to send that injury report, does that mean I’m also free to ignore your supplemental demands, Officer Ayfer?”
“Is someone jealous they didn’t get any raisins?”
Lux stood and turned around, cocking her hip to drive home the snark.
“You must really want to join that injury report huh.”
One would’ve sworn a spark sounded when their two glares met.
“Both of you knock it off! How can I eavesdrop on the Crusader with all these verbal jabs flying.”
“Pfft, as if she can throw a jab...”
“You would know a thing or two about being thrown wouldn’t you.”
In a reenactment of two weeks earlier, Lux’s composure was thrown off the bridge and or out the window.
“Alright, spill it! Who told you about that!?”
“Spill what, the raisins? Don’t have any remember.”
Before jabs could really start flying Wash interjected for the second time.
“Hey Lux, Cade wants me to remind you that your presence on the front deck is of the utmost importance.”
Too true. Although to Lux’s credit she always kept an internal timer running whenever she temporarily vacated a deck position. And while it was cutting it close said timer still had a few ticks remaining. At least enough to get a parting shot in.
“Duty calls. Try not to strain yourself holding that chair down. Self-reporting would be pretty awkward for you.”
Jericka clicked her tongue as the blonde strode out the doorway. But before contacting Sumiye about the injury report she looked over at Wash.
“Cade didn’t say anything did he. Too preoccupied working over our guest and all that.”
“He sure didn’t. But I knew invoking the Cade card would get Lux to refocus. Try not to get her so riled up will you, sharpshooters of her caliber don’t grow on trees, and we’ll need her in optimal condition for the castles.”
“Please, we both know my yapping isn’t enough to phase her.”
“Speaking from experience, presuming anything about another’s mental state always leads to trouble.”
“You pick the strangest times to wax philosophical.”
“Jericka, you read me?”
“Can this wait Kircher, I need to update Sumi on the injury report.”
“I’ll make it quick; I need to run something by you.”
“Before your precious Miss Endellion? This should be good.”
“...”
“Uh, hello?”
“Sorry, needed to step out of the bridge.”
“Now I almost don’t want to hear this.”
“Just listen. There have been some...troubling sentiments...swirling among the security officers onboard.”
“Please tell me this isn’t related to your ongoing grievance with Hayes.”
“Ways things are shaping up, that’s the least of my worries.”
“Well, he is C274’s security rep.”
“Not anymore. Following our little dust up that honor was passed over to Rohner.”
“Bullshit, no way someone as crass as Hayes would agree to that in the middle of a convoy. Unless he got nicked liked Faust.”
“No nicks, by all intents and purposes Hayes deferred his position of security division representative to Rohner.”
It was at this point Jericka realized she was out of the loop in regards to this Rohner person and sought to rectify this by tugging on Wash’s sleeve to get his attention. As he looked down at her she mouthed the name in question while using her face to communicate her ignorance on the subject. And it was very telling that Wash’s kneejerk reaction to the name was to wince.
“Anxious about the chain of command much?”
“Rohner isn’t exactly shy about his criticisms of Dandridge. He nearly put a stop to the order to drop smoke.”
“Why participate in the run then? The Commander was present when the crew roster was being filled out.”
“Rohner showed last minute. Literally walked off a Crusader from an arriving convoy and boarded one of ours without any context outside a copy of the crew roster. Spent all of departure and a good chunk of time afterwards sleeping in the turret bay to recover.”
“So your telling me this guy woke up and chose violence.”
“I’m realizing that contacting you might have been a mistake...”
“Took you long enough! And just making sure, but you took steps to collect or remove the second headset right?”
“I have it on me...I’d better go now. Do me a favor and bring the matter up with Lux. Her continued support of Commander Dandridge could end up being a deciding factor in a worst-case scenario.”
“Yeah, about that. Me and Lux were at each other’s throat not even a few seconds ago, so...”
“Counting on you.”
Jericka muttered a few curses and scratched at her thick mop of crimson as Kircher left the call. Sensing she was done Wash made to elaborate further on the name she’d asked about but stopped short after seeing how put out their CO seemed.
“How you doing buddy?”
“Seems we should have spent less time monitoring Cloud Nine’s potential infighting and more time projecting the crew dynamics of this convoy’s current roster...”
*
“Mind if I stretch my legs out?”
The storage compartment turned holding cell was no more than a moderately sized nook located on the wall opposite the sliding door and didn’t afford the height necessary for a hypothetical prisoner to stand. Making a seated posture all but mandatory.
“Fine with me.”
Given the woman’s slightly above average height it was to be expected, though he could’ve refused her under the pretense of a tripping hazard. But Cade had always been very mindful of his immediate surroundings and found the likelihood of a faceplant doubtful. Assuming Miss Anonymous didn’t make a concentrated effort to take him out that is.
“Nice place you got here. Dare I call it cozy.”
“You expect me to believe you’ve never been in an engine room before.”
The raider considered her response carefully, well aware the game had already started. To her credit however the air of nonchalance she’d carried into the room didn’t falter.
“Just once, a lifetime ago.”
“How poignant...”
“Mhm, you’re young. You’d have to be to believe the person you are now will last into your 30’s.”
“No, I’d say your stance is sound. What I take exception with is your phrasing. Bit over romanticized for my tastes.”
“Those tastes will change too. Though I can’t guarantee it’ll be for the better.”
“Uh huh.”
Cade strode over to the room’s speaking tube and reached into his drop pouch, producing a light green cotton handkerchief. Using an elastic from the same pouch he placed the fabric over the opening of the tube. The woman watched on with a hint of concern.
“Do I need to be worried?”
It took the engineer a moment to grasp how his actions must look from her perspective, and another to decide whether he’d use her misread to his advantage. No, that felt a step too far.
“No need to fret, I just want this conversation to remain private. You see our pilot has a nasty habit of eavesdropping.”
The woman settled back down somewhat but remained on edge at the unexpected move by the engineer. Just as Cade was tasked with pulling useful intel from her, she now had to figure out what he had to gain by monopolizing the information. Assuming that was his intent. Because the notion that the guise of privacy would make her more prone to divulging intel was far too ludicrous.
“Plan on locking that door as well?”
She used her head to motion towards the engine room’s sliding door.
“No, the crew can come and go as they please. Also need to account for emergencies.”
“Someone on the bridge then. The pilot was your excuse, but that was a veiled attempt to draw my attention from the CO. Hesitant to provide them sensitive information I see. Not that I plan on providing any.”
Cade chewed on the inside of his cheek as he debated where to go from here. Because this woman was reading him like a good book.
“I’m surprised you didn’t extrapolate further. I suppose it would be counterproductive to have me giving up this early.”
A beat, followed by a grin.
“Well at least you bounce back quickly. And here I was worried this would be boring.”
She’d conceded a point to keep him invested. He’d take it. For she’d confirmed that her agenda involved passing some choice bits of information over to them. The real trick was determining whether that information was meant to lead them astray or buy her favorable treatment when this was all over.
“But you really should remove that buffer from the speaking tube. As we’ve both just witnessed, this route demands quite a bit of maneuvering. And you won’t be able to make the necessary adjustments if you don’t hear them.”
“Considerate of you to bring that up. Worried your buddies will prioritize silencing you over saving you? Or maybe...you’ve been looking for a chance to defect from the party? A chance your now in position to make a reality.”
The woman erupted into mirthful laughter out of nowhere, so much so she had to flare her legs out to keep from toppling over. As he watched her Cade felt the onset of frustration taking hold.
“Young people are so cute, trying to find a rhyme or reason behind every little action. Doesn’t it get tedious? Searching for motives in every act of consideration or kindness.”
Cade squatted down so they’d be at eye level.
“Go ahead and put a leash on that thing you call kindness, because what you consider tedious is par for the course for types like me. It’s how we keep people at arm’s length. Makes throwing liabilities like you overboard easy in the event I deem you more trouble than your worth.”
“Scary.”
*
“Sir—I’m here to report that a delicate situation is developing near station grounds.”
[Philip Eagen, 54, Riga Station Manager]
The balding man set his pen atop the stack of paperwork occupying his desk and crossed a pair of weathered hands with a sigh.
“Matters taking place off station grounds are of little concern to us. Report whatever it is to the city’s authorities.”
The station’s head of security grimaced ahead of having to share the next bit of information.
“I’m afraid this matter does concern us...rather we played the role of involuntary instigators.”
The weary man sat back in his leather chair and motioned with his hand for the officer to continue. At the very least this gave him a respite from the paperwork for the arriving Galen Run.
“As your aware we took steps to leak intel through unofficial channels, to limit any potential damage to the otherwise fragile cargo enroute.”
The manager raised a thick brow.
“And?”
“One of the city’s news outlets also caught wind of the leak and seeking to take advantage of the populace’s declining mental state, released a timely news piece on the vaccine’s anticipated arrival.”
“You mean to tell me the citizens got restless and broke quarantine?”
“In force I’m afraid. The article in question similarly drummed up concerns that the vaccine could be distributed according to the LCF’s pre-existing relationships with the city’s business partners. Which in turn gave way to fears that people will have to pay a steep price for access to the inoculation.”
“And cause irreparable damage to the Federation’s reputation?! Nonsense!”
“I’m afraid demand for the vaccine had superseded the demand for reason.”
The station manager of six years pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to alleviate his growing headache.
“I suppose the fact we haven’t been overrun yet is a means to rejoice. Damage control on the city’s part I expect.”
“We’ve been informed they’re taking steps to reenforce the quarantine. Fortunately the violators couldn’t even drum up enough reason to organize themselves. It’s made rounding them up a fair bit easier. Though there is one group that may be cause for concern.”
“Hence you’ve brought this to my attention.”
The security officer nodded and spared a glance out the window where the station personnel below awaited orders nervously.
“Institute lockdown measures for the front entrance and position the bulk of our officers in and around the receiving yard. Put the rest of the staff on high alert and have them review evacuation procedures.”
“Yes sir.”
The head of security wasted little time leaving the office so he could carry out the orders, leaving the manager alone with his paperwork again. But rather than resume his desk work the middle-aged man lifted himself out of his chair and walked over to the city map decorating the back wall of the office. Running a hand over his head, he scrutinized several locations on the map.
“The amphitheater it is then...”