Chapter 2: A Tempting Proposition

Planet: Crucis II - Settlement of Havens Hold

Third Tier of the Bhakus Sector

Date of 241.06-25

  The table was maybe 6 feet or so in diameter. In the chair directly opposite from Matt sat a military man. He appeared to be in his early fifties, possibly a few years older. The man was clean-shaven and his hair was neatly combed back under his cap, with a dulled uniform to match. His piercing green eyes contrasted with his bronze skin as he looked directly at Matt.

  Damn bastard barely takes care of his uniform yet shaves like the bloody thing is still essential…

  His cap brandished the insignia of Krona, not that it had the same relevance after the Krona Conflict. Krona was an unfortunate target of the Coalition some years ago, drawing the full force of their ire. The planet was more of a puppet state at this point than before.

  Matt worked his way around the room as he felt eyes sizing up their newcomer. The table and chairs were not as worn as those in the building’s front. As he sat down at the last vacant chair, a groan escaped, and he made a note to put an extra mile on his next run. His gaze shifted around the table, eyeing the other guests.

  On Hobbes’ right was the head man of Shneily Mining Corporation, David Shneily. He was in his early thirties, with immaculate hair, 15k suit, and a well-earned business reputation. However, a shady acquittal from three murders painted a different view of his character. He struck quite a figure as he straightened his attire easily outside of Matt’s price range.

  Next to Shneily was a person with less formal appearance, Andohn Edwins. He was older than the last, grey hair a mess, and a pair of twitchy eyes. He was mostly known as a disgraced government official of Minov. Some bribes can haunt you, especially those concerning legal age in his case. He shifted in his seat more than anyone Matt had ever seen.

  Sitting across from Hobbes was a balding man that Matt did not know. A pair of spectacles balanced precariously on the edge of his nose. The only reference he could find on the man was the emblem on his jacket shoulder, 'Crucis IV Starport Services'. As Matt recalled, not the most orderly starport he had ever visited but still efficient. They had last used it about a year ago if he recalled, a simple smuggling run that actually went as planned.

  Continuing on next to him was a woman about his own age, Minerva McGree. Slouched in her chair with one leg over the other, a burning cigar dangled from her lips. She wore a black coat and moss green beret. ‘Stellar Enterprises’ adorned her chest pocket, an up and coming merchant trading company.

  Hmm, I might have a chat with her if I’m going to cave in on getting my own ship…

  Matt finished his observations and turned his attention over to Hobbes, the Krona insignia’s metallic shine faded.

  “You look well, Hobbes.” He meant it honestly, partially at least. “Though I must say, the grey is showing a bit more nowadays.”

  “Matt, be careful of your words or I’ll kick your ass, again might I add. Though by the looks of it, someone else might have done that for me.” His voice was gruff and aged from experience, not just in years. His fingers massaged finely shaven cheeks and chin, only stopping to brush off lint from his shoulder. “Besides, it’s been a while since I had reason to wear this uniform.”

  “I'd be wary of your warning, but I know you better than that. And no thanks for noticing.” Matt countered, one hand tending to the still sensitive cut. Silver lining, the blood had dried up by now and prevented further bleeding. “Also, age is kinda relevant to your ability to kick my ass. Isn't your birthday soon?”

  Motherfu-

  The hard kick to his shins was well deserved. He made a decent attempt to keep quiet, but some air escaped. Decent was very much the operative word. A few curious faces turned to the pair of them, and he smiled back.

  The fact he had been off-planet, any planet, for an extended time made him a little more brash than normal. His last sequence of jobs put him in the deep black for almost 4 months straight. The expanse of space had a way of eating into one’s soul if they stayed out too long.

  Matt still remembered Hobbes’ inspirational speech on their first job together and his upfront introduction. The rundown was quick, even by a whore's standards. But at least it got the point across with a heartwarming ending.

  As he recalled it, “Bottom line, don’t fuck up. I swear, if you bring hellfire upon me then I’ll return it tenfold upon you. So I’d make sure your wills are in order.”

  Needless to say, Hobbes left quite the first impression.

  The table was deep in their own private conversations. Shneily engaged himself with Edwins, while the man in the starport jacket had a nervous habit of checking his watch. Minerva was content to keep to herself, though occasionally fired looks Matt’s way. So without further ado, he chose to break the ice.

  “Not to be that guy, but who here is running this little playdate?”

  After a few seconds, the starport worker looked up from his watch before removing it. He took off his glasses and placed them carefully on the table.

  "The specific person is on his way." He spoke soft yet firm, strong enough to easily garner the attention of everyone else. Eager bodies listened for more as the last of any side conversations died off. His smile was perfunctory and short lived, eyes lingering a moment longer on Matt. "On behalf of our host, my name is Alexandr Uniden."

  Alright, about time it got started…

  Matt motioned his fingers like an orchestra conductor under the table while Uniden tapped the watch twice before speaking.

  "This job isn’t an ordinary one. Be mindful, appropriate hazards will be compensated for. Bottom line is this involves the Coalition and a hefty sum of money attached to it.” There was a glint in his eyes, the unsettling kind. “So before we continue, this is your last chance to walk while ignorance is bliss."

  All ears perked up, silence in the room now deafening, and curiosity exponentially increasing though not without caution. No one moved.

  Well, that’s an opener for one…

  “Very well ladies and gentlemen, very well indeed. Anything said here will stay within these four walls. We know what happens to those with loose tongues and all." Uniden narrowed his eyes, focusing on Edwins for a brief moment. “Bribes notwithstanding.”

  Edwins twitched, glanced down, while spinning a ring on his finger before speaking up. “Fine, but what’s the catch?”

  “Catch?”

  “One doesn’t involve the Coalition without reason or ambition behind it. Also, a bloody nose given is one owed in return. They are a governing body that sticks to that principle. Granted, I’m open to giving them what they duly deserve, mind you.” Edwins grinned as he postured with one leg propped on his knee and head in hand. "This wouldn’t have any connection to the recent spike in rioting and general unrest? Like say, the turmoil on Minov as an example? Or maybe their aggressive approach on their competitional trading partners?”

  “That is not for me to say.” Uniden picked a clean handkerchief from his pocket and blew his nose, roughly tucking it away. “As for your concerns within Coalition territories...let the masses do what they do best. React without thought, organization, and lack of purpose."

  Matt smirked as he tapped his chin, letting the minor chill run down his spine.

  Uniden, you play the bit of an innocent messenger very well. However, under that skin I feel there is much more…

  At that moment another man entered the room, slightly hunched and deep in thought. He wore a grey weathered lab coat that smelled like traces of burnt fuel. From the tech goggles strapped tightly to his head sprung tufts of blond hair, residue of shiny oil glinted in the light. At first glance, he looked like a mad scientist, but Matt instantly observed the slight strain of muscles at his shoulders. The laced-up boots seemed military grade.

  “Evening, selected individuals.” The hunched man stated in a calm and methodical tone, a soft sigh at the end. “Uniden, we good to go?”

  “Ready as ever.” Uniden slid his glasses back on, adjusting them on the bridge of his nose. “All on you, boss.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  The hunched man nodded in agreement and pulled up another chair to sit down, but halted halfway. He stretched his right hand to rub a burn mark on the armrest. He stopped, head poised like a crane as if remembering where he was. All eyes on him, he began.

  “My name is Vorosh.” His eyes traversed the table like a roulette wheel, odds on the house. “I have a proposition that would financially benefit all with a guaranteed payment upfront, of course. And also scratch an itch considering recent events, some of you know more than others.”

  That got the eyes and attention of most. But money alone was not enough motivation, though it helped push the narrative. Vorosh hovered on Minerva and Edwins. Matt rolled his eyes as he carried on.

  "You all are very business minded individuals, or least give off the appearance of.” He smirked and laughed as if a close-knit companion, not the outsider in actuality. “Therefore, some of you should know of the recently assessed mineral deposits near the Linova system. Am I right?” He received a few head nods. “The Coalition seems to be aware also and laid claim to it, saying it’s in their territory. I beg to differ.”

  The silence broke down as Minerva barked first.

  “What the hell are you suggesting? If they have a claim, then I’m going to stick to trade routes I know are safe.” She huffed, showing a sense of exasperation. “Or you think differently? Are you suggesting we move in?"

  "Yeah, I do suggest that.” Vorosh shrugged nonchalantly. “Your concerns?”

  "Yes, small one really.” Minerva drawled. “A relay station in Linova's orbit will track any activity on that scale. The proximity is too close, and you know Coalition soldiers are itching for a fight. It’s kind of why Krona ran into trouble those years back.” She ran a finger along the folded curves of her beret, smoothing out the creases. “If you can circumvent that station, then that’s another situation entirely. But I don’t see how we bridge the gap to that possibility.”

  “Perspective, mind you. I like keeping it simple, point A to point B.” Vorosh propped both arms up, fingers interlocked with thumbs teasing his chin. “What I’m suggesting is profit at the Coalition’s expense. But as pointed out, that relay station creates complications.”

  Complications is one way of saying it, and it’s an understatement…

  “As stated.” Minerva agreed in sarcasm. “Anyway, convince us this isn’t a waste of our time. Because right now, it’s drifting that direction.”

  “The fact that the station belongs to the Coalition, vermin that the bleed outer tier planets dry, should coax a few to action alone.” Vorosh leaned further in over the chair’s back, never losing the temple formed from his arms. His hunch then slightly lessened. “You’re concerned about a government so focused on quelling outright rebellions, planet by planet. Waste of time? Are you all that scared of pompous talk with no bite?”

  A dark shadow seemed to overtake the room and focused around Vorosh. Matt looked over at Hobbes, an immovable rock so far. Matt rarely saw him sit in place this long. The last time was on Viradia, and a very exotic woman on his lap.

  "Alright, you’ve got some gusto. You’re right too, I’m pissed about their footprint near Rheinholt. Those relay stations make doing honest trade a bitch." Minerva pulled out a smoke and lighter. There was subtle mumbling around the table, her words striking the general feeling of the group. "How exactly is this going down then?"

  “I’ve got a special item stored on site.” Vorosh spun a crooked smile. "It will disable security and provide an opening to strike."

  “You aren't robbing a bank, hitting some pirate compound, or escorting a freighter. I hope it's a shit ton more than that.” Edwins jabbed the table as he listed each item. “Why drag us into this if you’ve got an inside connection?”

  “I’m but one man. I can’t mine an entire mineral field by myself, at least not in a respectable time frame of course. Besides, I have another target in mind with no additional risk from any of you.” Vorosh raised his voice higher, as if to quell a fire before it got out of control. “You, Edwins, know how best to keep our score hidden from prying eyes with your past work. Shneily, your company has the capability to shred through that mineral field or as much of it as possible. Minerva, you’re our golden ticket in and out with transport. Hobbes and Matt back there, well, they’re the resident experts on excessive use of force.” His voice settled down, having rattled of his reasons and taken a more advantageous position. “Does that satisfy you, Mr. Edwins?”

  “Well, you do have some points.” He grumbled, looking around to see the facial reactions of the rest. Everyone, Matt included, still had both ears open. “Yeah, I guess it does.”

  Resident experts? Nice flattery, but hope there is some monetary value with that…

  “The Coalition is going to steal from under your noses without a fight. Don’t know about you, but I’m sure as hell sick of it.” Vorosh pursed his lips, then relaxed them again. “Let me tease you this, my special key to this whole thing.”

  Vorosh dropped a palm sized hologram emitter on the table before retreating a few feet back. With a flip of the switch, a transparent image of an opened box appeared. Inside the box was a hodgepodge of wires and blinking lights. There were red numbers in the corner, something Matt picked up on fast.

  “Pulsating Frequency Neutralizer?” Matt asked, unable to hide a tinge of amusement. “They'll have standard security protocols. I hope that's not an off the shelf model?”

  Pulsating Frequency Neutralizer, or PFNs for short, were used to temporarily blind the enemy in the communication world. Berate their systems long enough and anything would eventually go down. That was the basic concept at least, though some liked to get fancy with additional tweaks.

  “It’s a personal modification, enough to get their systems haywire for a few minutes.” Vorosh gleefully eyed his prize, then calmed into a subtle serious tone. He slowly marched back and forth in a short span. “Also, those few numbers in red are my proof to you. They are the current location of Linova’s Relay Station, a live tracker of sorts. This device is currently in restricted storage on the station.”

  “How the hell..nevermind, don’t want to know.” Matt kept his eyes on the hologram as he mulled the idea of involving themselves head to head with Coalition forces. He was not the only one. Many postures changed, chairs moved and squeaked, and heads noticeably leaned forward. “Well, that changes things.”

  He looked back over to Vorosh and his methodical shuffle back and forth. The man’s boots had dug into the carpet, the ridged soles having made a path of their own. Vorosh then grounded his heel down into one spot. Satisfied with his work, he addressed the table again.

  "Needless to say, this will require full cooperation on a significant scale.” He surveyed them like a foreman on a dig site. “The end result is one hell of a paydirt and a kidney punch to the Coalition. In my book, a win all around.”

  Matt ran through various debts he still had, personal goals, and there was also Jayne. A big score was tempting. While maybe not retirement, it allowed one to be choosier in their actions. This last year felt a little too desperate. It was an oscillating pendulum in his mind, the pros and cons were a series of little blocks lined up in a perfect circle.

  Why not nibble and see where it all goes?

  “Okay, Vorosh, let's say I’m in for argument’s sake alone.” While some trouble was not worth it, Matt’s gut churned at the thought of turning down money. “Let's say we all pull our weight, theoretically. Where does that leave the status quo?”

  “In a nutshell, I work my magic and give you an opening on that relay station. We catch them by surprise and reap the profits on that yield. For the rest, a satisfactory payment will be made upon completion of the job.” Vorosh carried on as if all the pieces had fallen into place, a tactician knowing he had beat his opponent. "For logistic purposes, we need to refit a cargo ship or two. I can pull together some fighters. They won't be top of the line, but for sure better than anything scrapped out here." His eye hovered over the moss green beret. "Minerva, can you get me a freighter in short order? Or are you out?”

  “Something like that requires finesse.” Her scrutinizing eyes rounded the table again. “I can’t make any promises, but let’s say it’s not out of the realm of possibility.”

  “Of course, good to hear.” Vorosh walked back to his chair but stopped short against the back yet again. His hands gripped each side, fingers tapping like a chess master counting out his moves. “We do this right, they'll be so damn busy with the fallout to care. By the time they do, the bloodhounds will be chasing ghosts into a dying star."

  “Speaking of time.” Edwins directed his inquiry to Shneily. “How quickly can you mine a mineral field of that size?”

  Shneily closed his eyes, running the numbers through his head. “Can’t get it all, but give me about two or three weeks with proper preparations. I can get a large haul, a very profitable large haul.” He opened his eyes and focused his attention on their host once more. “Think they’ll be busy for that long or more, Vorosh?”

  “Knock out the right systems, and they’re on backup equipment until proper repairs are underway.”

  Matt could see the gears turn around the table. Everyone had their buttons to push. This sector was a damn powder keg filled with thousands of them, more likely millions. All you needed was a foot in the proper ass and shit would start happening.

  Congratulations, Vorosh, you pushed some buttons alright…

  “You boys in or playing the what if game?” Minerva stamped out her smoke on the table, leaving another mark among the many. She dropped her beret on the table and went to work tidying up her hair. “I mean, this is doable, but it's a heavy gamble either way you look at it. I’m still liking the odds if we’re all in."

  Well, I think that-

  “One last and final thing.” Hobbes stretched his arms to a few cracks and pops. “If you fail to come through on your end with that toy of yours, then we burn free. This job’s success hinges on your promise." He removed his cap and rested it on the table. His thumbs massaged the silver pins of his jacket, eyes leveled at Vorosh. "I will not send souls to their death because of your failure, if I can help it. Is that an agreeable condition?”

  “A reasonable bargain.” Vorosh stood up at full height. “I’m going to let everyone sit on their thoughts, simmer for a bit. Uniden will be your point of contact. You’ve got 48 hours before you’re left behind.” He pulled out a pocket watch, turned the knob and put it away. “I guarantee you the ends justify the means. I know how the Confederates, Federation, Coalition, and every other conglomerate that wants to call themselves some semblance of a governing body works. This is more possible to pull off than you think.” He paused with a cheeky grin. “You’re dismissed.”

  There was a shuffle of chairs and feet as everyone stood to leave, minor conversations breaking on the way out. Matt was ready to let his head settle and clear the air a bit.

  “Hold on a minute, Hobbes and Matt.” Vorosh’s hand darted up to catch their attention and hugged the table as he stepped towards them. “I’d like to have a word about the job, your specific jobs actually. I’m going to be accompanying you on it.” He glanced at those leaving then leaned back on his heels, voice subdued to a whisper. “While the others are busy above, we’ll be occupied below. I hope you don’t mind the severe cold as it’s rather freezing.”

  Matt kicked his chair into the table. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

  I can’t wait to hear what spiel you got now…

  “Good, good.” Vorosh vented a small laugh. “Oh, and I should also mention that I’ve got some spare gear stowed away. If you or any of your guys need an upgrade, consider it free of charge.”

  “You don’t say?”

  Matt wanted to get a new optic for his rifle on his next pay cut for a while. Maybe they would come out of this with a little more than he first thought. Hell, they could salvage all of Vorosh’s stores for an extra profit under his nose. Either way, the job just got more worthwhile.

  Not so bad for a single job, so far…