Date point: 4y 11m 2w 1d AV
Agony.
A river of burning fire was flowing into the side of his head, drowning conscious thought.
“Kid, try not to move too much, the anesthetic is wearing off and you need an injection of morphine.”
The words crashed into his ears, cleaving through his mind and scattering what little sense he had.
He didn’t even feel the needle stick into his arm as the drug was administered.
Movement or complaint was out of the question, but he felt his muscles release the tension within them as the pain began to subside.
Frank’s voice, sounding hollow and distant, said, “Ted, I’m not feeling so good. I don’t think I’m going to make it to the station without having a serious problem.”
Why wouldn’t Frank be feeling well?
Far off in the distance, at the edge of his mind, an image of a bloody scalpel surfaced.
Robert’s eyes snapped open as adrenaline overpowered the morphine and he attempted to sit up from the bed.
His entire body was immobilized by cargo straps wrapped around his body, securing him tightly.
A wave of nausea overcame him as he lifted his head, forcing him to cease all movement.
“Robert! You have to stay still! You just had fucking brain surgery!” Ted hissed.
“Ted,” Frank croaked. “We’re still not sure if it worked. He could still be dangerous. And I’m not joking, Ted; my mind is going fuzzy. I think I’m in trouble.”
The scientist moved away from the hospital bed where Robert had just gone unconscious, succumbing to the drugs.
“I’m out of my depth here, Frank. Tell me what to do.” he said, worriedly looking at the old man, who was slumped against the wall.
“The ship is charging?” Frank asked weakly.
“Yeah, it’s charging. I detached the cables that the computer alerted me to, jumped to a star and started the charging sequence. It’s set to take us to the station automatically, at top speed. The Gaoians have been confined to their rooms.” Ted hurriedly explained.
“That’s good, Ted. Real good.” the old man muttered, his eyes unfocused. “Computer…transfer high level ship control to Ted Burnquist.”
A mechanical voice replied, “Complying. Access confirmed.”
Doing his best to keep his wits, Frank struggled to look Ted in the face.
“Kid, my brain is swelling. It’s going to kill me if you don’t get me into that machine. I don’t have a choice. You need to get Robert out and have the robot drill a hole in my skull to relieve the pressure and drain fluids. If that doesn’t work, you’re going to have to remove part of my skull so that my brain can expand.”
Fear began cloying at Ted’s insides.
“Frank..I-I’m not sure if I can do that kind of shit. I’m not a doctor.”
A brief flash of clarity flared in Frank’s eyes.
“Then I’m already a dead man.”
Ted couldn’t help it, this was all too much.
Drilling noises filled the room as Frank lay unconscious on the hospital bed, a mechanical arm boring into the base of his skull while his head was held tightly by several more arms. Two more robotic appendages stitched up the wound on his forearm.
Retreating to the corner of the room, he huddled into it, pressing his fingers into his ears and shutting his eyes tightly.
Seeing the robot cut out the translator implant had been one of the most fascinatingly disgusting things that he had ever seen.
But, this.
Frank could die any moment, and he would be alone.
An unnaturally still body lay underneath a sheet on the other side of the room, having been moved by Ted himself. Horrible congealed blood streaked across the floor where the body had been pulled.
Robert lay unconscious, still wrapped up in restraints, just to the left of Jason, a pillow laid under his head. Gauze bandages covered the entire top half of his skull.
Why did this happen?
From what he could tell, Robert hadn’t been himself when he’d attacked them. It had affected the Gaoians as well, considering what had happened between Ryst and Chanuck.
Frank knows.
Opening his eyes, Ted looked at the old man, lying on the table as the robot managed to punch through the bone, retracting the drill to allow a thick reddish-black fluid to drain out.
Vital signs on the robot’s monitors began to go from red to green, indicating that Frank was stabilizing.
A shaky breath of relief escaped Ted, glad that he wouldn’t have to remove part of the man’s skull.
Staring at Frank, he wondered what the old man knew, and why he hadn’t bothered to explain himself before everything had gone wrong. Muttering only loud enough to be heard, he said, “Computer, alert me if Robert or Frank wake up, or show signs of medical distress.”
“Understood.” the mechanical voice replied.
Feeling his stomach rebel against him as he stood, Ted stumbled and leaned against the wall as he left the horrifying room behind, shutting the door in an attempt to block out the memory of blood coating the floor.
Still leaning against the walls, he slowly made his way to the mess hall, doing his best to avoid the sight of Chanuck lying upon the floor, also covered in a sheet. A dark red stain covered much of the material, blooming from the Gaoian’s chest.
He didn’t even look at the two meals he grabbed as he began moving slowly back to the living quarters.
As the door to his room opened, Tricko looked up at his visitor.
“I brought you food.” the human croaked, standing in the doorway and looking pale.
The Gaoian looked at him, choosing his words carefully.
“Will Frank be alright?”
After opening the meal for Tricko, as he couldn’t do so himself, Ted replied, “I think so. Robert made it through the surgery as well, and is asleep now.”
Expressionless, Tricko stared at him. There had been so much death in his life that he was numb to it now, or at least wished he was.
“That is good news. When will we be reaching the station?” the Gaoian asked.
“I’m not sure. A few hours maybe?” Ted answered, turning and exiting the room without looking at the little raccoon man again.
The door slid closed and Ted stood in the hallway, surrounded by silence.
Shuffling to the next room, he opened it, noting that his broken fingers were throbbing. They’d been taped together to immobilize them, but they still hurt terribly. The bones had to be set properly soon, otherwise they’d need to be rebroken if they healed badly.
The door opened, revealing Ryst sitting on his bed with his arms wrapped around his knees.
The Gaoian stared into nothingness, giving no notice that Ted had entered the room.
“I brought you food.” he said, repeating the same words he’d given to Tricko.
Ryst was silent.
Laying down the opened meal, Ted moved to leave the room.
“Is the thing that took over Chanuck and Rob dead?” a voice of iron asked.
Ryst’s eyes bored into the back of the human’s head, burning for an answer.
Looking at the Gaoian, Ted said in a hollow voice, “Yes, I think so. Frank told me to crush the implant after it was taken out. He said that it was most likely over, but to not trust you two until yours are taken out as well.”
A few silent moments passed between the two of them.
“Good.” Ryst muttered, turning to stare into nothingness again.
The human left the room.
Frank’s eyes fluttered open, squinting against the bright surgical lights above him.
I made it through another shit show. I’ll never tell Kendra about any of this shit. I wouldn’t survive the fallout.
His head was being gripped in a vice, making it impossible to see straight. Very slowly he began to turn his body, attempting to sit up.
“Hold on, Frank. Don’t be stupid.”
Ted had hurried into the room, alerted to Frank’s wakening.
“How long?” the old man whispered.
The taller man stared, looking unsure of the question.
“How long have I been asleep?” Frank clarified.
Glancing at Robert as he stepped over him, Ted replied, “About two hours. I doubt you’re ready to do any kind of moving around right now though. You probably shouldn’t even be awake yet.”
“You’re probably right, but that doesn’t mean I care. Go to the cabinets and find me a corticosteroid. I think we have Dexamethasone. It’ll help with the swelling and might get me on my feet.”
Ted did as told and handed over the small bottle of liquid, a needle, and a syringe.
Dosing himself, and maybe giving himself slightly too much, Frank had Ted help him sit up, eventually standing on unsteady feet.
Once they were outside, Frank lowered the gravity in the hallway and flight deck to his usual preference, and his headache relaxed slightly.
Moving awkwardly, and relying heavily upon Ted, Frank finally managed to reach the Flight Deck and his pilot chair, sitting down gingerly.
“Where are we?”
Ted responded quickly, “In FTL. The computer says we should be there in maybe an hour.”
“You’re going to have to do most of the work Ted. You need to transmit everything that’s happened, and not just what happened today; all of it. I think Jason…I think the Captain made several messages, so you can just send those along with a report of the fight.”
Looking at the old man who was slumping slightly in his seat, Ted answered, “I understand, Frank.”
“There’s more. You have to find a hospital, or a doctor or something that can help us. We need Corti medical care for me and Robert, and to remove the Gaoian’s implants. That book I have says they’ve got the best human medical knowledge. You also need to get the flight deck doors fixed and a full check of the systems. Ask Byron for money. Also…we need to arrange for the bodies to go home.”
As he spoke, Frank’s eyes began drooping, and he sagged further into his chair.
“Frank, alright, I’ll take care of it, but stop speaking so much! You’re in no condition to be doing anything right now. You shouldn’t even be awake yet!” Ted replied, shocked at the old man’s stubbornness.
Raising his eye’s up to the scientist’s, Frank answered, “I don’t give a shit what you say. Fucking bad things are going to happen if we show up to this port without a plan. I want you to play this as low key as possible. Try and avoid being noticed if you can. Lie through your fucking teeth if you have to.”
Ted didn’t answer this time, the full weight of his responsibility hitting him.
“Do you understand, Ted? The lives of everyone on this ship are in your hands right now. We can’t trust anyone. I’m useless right now, and we still have a mission to complete.”
Stuttering, the man replied, “H-How are you doing this, Frank? The Captain is d-dead, and Robert tried to kill us! How are you not in pieces, like I am?”
Holding eye contact with Ted, Frank answered slowly, “I am, kid, I really am. I don’t fucking know what I’m doing right now. But, we have a job to do, and lives to look after. So, I’m trying to do the only thing that makes sense right now. I can’t allow myself to think about all the things that have gone wrong.”
Resolve began forming in Ted’s stomach, rising at the sense of purpose in the man’s words.
Fear and panic haven’t done a damn thing for you during this whole thing. Get a hold of yourself.
His expression hardened and he felt determination grow within him as he said, “I’ll get it done, Frank. Don’t worry about anything.”
Looking at the ceiling, he said, “Computer, set gravity in the flight deck, the hallway and Frank’s room to zero G’s.
“What are you doing?” a bewildered Frank asked.
Moving the old man to the door, gliding over the dismantled exo-suit, Ted answered, “You’re going to fucking bed. I’ve got this covered, old man.”
Despite his protests, he brought Frank to his room and guided him to his bed, returning a small amount of gravity to the room and running to grab him some pain pills from the medical bay.
“Go to sleep, you old bastard. And after I get us out of this, I want some answers about what’s been going on.” he demanded of Frank.
And he shut the door, standing in the silent hallway once again.
Rushing back to the medical bay, Ted repeated the same routine with Robert, placing him on his bed but still refraining from removing his restraints.
Following instructions from the medical robot, he measured out another dose of morphine for Robert – taking into account his last dosage – and injected the kid again.
After completing his work, he hurried back to the Flight Deck and sat in one of the chairs.
Right. Message for Byron.
Telling the computer to video record him, Ted haltingly began laying out the events of the last six hours.
By the time he was done, and all files had been collected together into one packet to be sent back to Byron, only a few minutes remained until they arrived at the station.
As they came out of FTL, Ted took control of the ship awkwardly, having only used the simulator before.
Doing as Frank said, he avoided all detection and found an abandoned loading dock, depending on the ship’s invisibility to electronics to hide them.
I hope this works.
A lone ship, its cloaking still activated, came out of FTL and stared at the station in front of it.
A pair of amphibious eyes tracked a rectangular ship landing in an empty loading dock, unnoticed by the traffic control systems of the station.
Craytic sat in his single man pursuit craft, hidden from all sensors, and smiled.
“Got you.”
Turning off his cloaking device, he requested permission to use the FTL relay to send a data burst.
Flicking a switch on his console, the Chehnasho recorded a simple voice message.
“They’re on Irbzrk.”
++0064++: One-Five-Four has failed in his task.
++0019++: You told me that this was being taken care of. Explain the situation to me.
++0064++: I have no definite answers at the moment. It is likely that One-Five-Four is dead. But, he did manage to send out a signal that allowed a newly acquired asset to follow them to the station of Irbzrk.
++0019++: And the information pertaining to the location of their ships?
++0064++: …I suspect that the information will be transmitted to Earth shortly.
++0019++: You are forcing my hand Sixty-Four. I had no desire to step into this, but you are leaving me no choice. Do we have assets on that station?
++0064++: No, but several ships could be brought to bear quickly. If the humans stay long enough, we stand a good chance at intercepting them before they can get away.
++0019++: This is a top priority as of this moment. I will have to personally inform the single digits. I want you to command the intercepting fleet, in person. If you make another mistake, you will be decompiled. Do you understand?
++0064++: …I understand.
Standing next to his ship and clutching a translator, Ted was trying to repair the situation.
“Human! For the last time, you cannot park your ship in this location! What are you doing here?” shouted the Vzk’tk.
Ted had been babbling near nonsense as he tried to keep the alien quiet, trying to prevent the dockworker from reporting him.
It wasn’t going well.
Taking his job very seriously, Rxzktskz couldn’t believe the audacity at the human; landing in a private hangar.
A hot anger rose in Ted’s chest.
I don’t have time for this shit.
Switching tactics, Ted banked on the hope that he could bully the worker.
“How dare you speak to me in such a manner! Who is your superior, and what is your identification number!?” he said scathingly.
The Vzk’tk blanched.
“E-Excuse me? My supervisor?”
Pleased with the reaction he was receiving, Ted pressed on.
“Yes, you idiot! Your supervisor! How dare you speak to a trade envoy from Cimbrean like that! We scheduled an off the books negotiation weeks ago!” the human ranted.
A pit formed in Rxzktskz’s stomach. Insulting foreign dignitaries, especially ones who could tear your arms off, was a sure way to lose your job.
“Uhhh-please sir, f-forgive my rudeness! I apologize most s-sincerely! H-How long do you intend to be staying here?!” he replied, stumbling over the words in his sudden desperation to save his career.
Staring balefully at the Vzk’tk, Ted gave a derisive snort.
“It’s not any of your business how long I’ll be staying here. However, I’m willing to overlook your rudeness if you keep my presence quiet. Do you understand?”
Feeling a ray of hope shine down, the Vzk’tk seized eagerly to the lifeline, saying, “Of course, sir! If I m-may ask, why do you wish to remain anonymous?”
Glaring fiercely into Rxzktskz’s eyes, Ted replied sarcastically, “Have you ever heard of The Great Hunt? I believe it would benefit everyone if word about a human from Cimbrean being here didn’t leak out.”
Sharp terror and understanding filled the Vzk’tk. It made perfect sense, considering the vendetta that the Hunters had against Cimbrean and the rest of humanity. The savior human wasn’t here to save them again, and The Great Hunt would wash over them like a flood of molten rock.
Even if the Hunters had disappeared, it was still best not to tempt them.
“I-I understand, sir! No one shall know you are here! Shall I call my superior to let him know you have arrived?” he stammered.
This is too easy.
Ted grunted, saying, “No, I have a contact here that I will check in with. I want to be sure you understand, no one is to know that I am here. But first, I need a link to the FTL relay, to send news of my arrival.”
Hearing this, the Vzk’tk perked up, glad to have helpful knowledge.
“There is a panel that has access near the entrance to this hangar, just on the wall over there! I can give you full access!” he said hurriedly, striding over to the wall.
Adopting a more professional tone, Ted replied, “Excellent, you have become very helpful. I will be sure to make a note of it to my contacts here.”
A thrill went through the dock worker at these words.
“I could get a promotion.” he muttered quietly to himself.
Displaying the unbelievably sharp hearing of humans, the Vzk’tk was unnerved as Ted answered his softly spoken words.
“Continue to make yourself useful, and I will make sure you get promoted.” the human said.
Coming upon the workstation, Rxzktskz unlocked the display with a keycard and allowed the human to use it. Before he could take more than a few steps away however, Ted asked the Vzk’tk to change the language to human English, which the dockworker did, sounding slightly bewildered.
“Do you not have an implant, sir?” he asked.
“I do not have time for questions. Thank you for your help with the display. If you would be so kind as to wait at a distance as I work?” Ted muttered.
As the dockworker obeyed with a subservient reply, the human fumbled for a few seconds to access the files stored in a computer tablet in his pocket, linking the station and the tablet together.
Tense seconds of silence passed as the data transferred, completing with a soft chime.
He gave a deep sigh of relief. He’d done it.
One thing down. Fifty to go.
Moving towards the patiently waiting dockworker, he spoke, “I require several things to complete my work here in a timely manner.”
Eager to please the human who had promised a promotion, the Vzk’tk said, “Of course! How can I be of service?”
Clearing his throat and concentrating on maintaining eye contact, he readied himself to test his luck.
“I require a Corti doctor, transport for two bodies back to Cimbrean and a repair crew for my ship.”
The alien blanched again.
“Mr. Byron! I need to speak with you!”
Dr. Ericson, head of R&D, barged through the elevator doors, interrupting Byron during a private investor’s meeting.
Taking a deep breath, he managed his annoyance at the intrusion.
“You have been told that there are only two things that you are allowed to bother me about, Professor.” he said flatly, hoping for Ericson’s sake that he hadn’t forgotten.
Ericson was looking frantic as he said, “I know, sir! It’s about the…project in the Far Reaches.”
The Italian investors sitting in front of the massive desk look intrigued.
Byron stood quickly, saying, “I’m sorry gentlemen, this cannot wait. If you will excuse me.”
Dr. Billings, Dr. McAllister and Mr. Williams were revealed as the elevator opened again, all three of them red faced and panting, as though they’d been running.
Staring at his employees, a black foreboding stole over him. All four of these people in his office at the same time had never been good news before.
“Mr. Williams, escort these men to the elevator please and remain in my office as they head down to the lobby.”
The head of security obeyed wordlessly, herding the three complaining men into the elevator and hitting the lobby button for them, stepping back into Byron’s office.
Silence passed for half a second.
“Explain. Now.” Byron said, bracing for the news.
Ericson stepped forward, speaking quickly, “They’ve made contact. Everything has gone to shit, sir.”
Taking a deep breath, Byron asked of Dr. Billings, his medical specialist, “How many casualties?”
“Two, sir. One human, one Gaoian. Captain Nolan is dead; killed by Robert Frost.”
Most of that sentence didn’t make any sense to him.
“Gaoians? Frost killed Jason? Start from the beginning!” he snapped.
Jennifer McAllister stepped forward, taking over the explanation.
“Short version. Robert Frost was taken control of by an alien entity and killed Nolan. Another Gaoian that they had picked up along the journey was killed as well. Frost has had brain surgery to remove his implant and Mr. Clark has had an emergency operation to relieve cranial swelling due to a head injury. Ted Burnquist is the only team member still operational at this time, and he’s in trouble.”
Gears began grinding together in Byron’s mind, trying to comprehend the situation.
“I-I…what!?”
No. Master the situation.
Closing his eyes, Byron clamped down savagely on his racing thoughts.
Eyes snapping back open, he demanded, “Tell me what they need.”
“Money, sir. They need a fuckton of money. Burnquist attached a message onto the data packet he sent us, saying he’s going to have to make promises that are going to be difficult to keep without it.” Jennifer said.
“Where are they?” he asked, a forced calm controlling his demeanor.
Ericson answered this time, saying, “Irbzrk. It’s an orbital space station.”
“It’s impossible to just transport them money, and we don’t have any kind of credit lines that we can give them.” Byron mused.
Speaking for the first time, Mr. Williams coughed quietly, drawing attention to himself.
“I have an idea, sir. We could send a shipment of rare earths to the factory, and probably pay off a Cimbrean customs official to discreetly verify the transaction. Upfront payment might be difficult to get, but we could probably get half now, half upon delivery. The first half would hopefully be enough to get our guys out of hot water.”
Raising his eyebrows at the suggestion, Byron replied, “You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? Nevermind. Get it done. Find a corporation, business, cartel or whatever the fuck you can, and sell them the next shipment meant for the colony, whatever type of material it is. This sale has to be absolutely off-book. When the shipment is diverted, tell Cimbrean that we’ve gotten a direct request for emergency resources from an undisclosed ally and we’re answering the call. Keep all of this quiet. Jennifer, Mr. Williams, make it happen. Ericson and Billings, stay here.”
As the suited man and the psych-profiler left the room, Byron turned to Ericson.
“Explain to me how Robert Frost came to have an implant, and be controlled by an alien influence.”
Referencing the data pad in his hands, Ericson began recounting the kidnapping reports made by Captain Nolan, sent when the Reclamation had been orbiting a Venus-like colony world, making use of their FTL relay.
Continuing on to the new info, and after explaining the battle over the slaving colony, Ericson began to describe the crisis involving Robert Frost, and the damage he’d done to the crew.
Explanation coming to a close, Ericson said gravely, “They’re lucky to be alive at all, Mr. Byron. If Mr. Clark hadn’t intervened when he did, the Reclamation would have disappeared the same as the other ships. Which brings me to another important point.”
“That would be?” Byron asked, patience frayed and irritable.
Ericson frowned as he said, “They know where two of the ships went, sir.”
His eyes snapping wide open, he responded sharply, “What?! Where?!”
Turning the datapad so that his employer could see it, Ericson showed him the stellar nursery, sitting on the fringe of the Far Reaches. Right up against the edge of frontier space.
“They were forced into a nebula by a pirate group. The odds of surviving for long in that nebula are slim to none, sir.” he explained slowly.
Byron sat heavily in his oversized chair, face in his hands.
Without looking up, he spoke into his palms.
“I want them to go there and do a search. Tell them to look for any sign of them. They don’t have to go into the nebula, but I want them to look. Find something to confirm that they’re either dead, or beyond saving.”
“Yes, sir.” said Ericson.
A few moments passed as Byron contemplated what to do next.
Considering his options as he spoke, he said, “Sit down, both of you.”
Both men sat obediently, resting in the large chairs in front of the billionaire’s desk.
Staring at both men, Byron said flatly, “Tell me everything you know about how the implants could be used to control people. Our hypothesis has been confirmed, and I want to understand it.”
Billings spoke first, saying, “At the moment, we have only speculation. It’s possible that they force their way through neurological connections that aren’t supposed to be made and hijack the nervous system, perhaps they override the conscious parts of the brain and drive an ‘empty vehicle,’ or it could simply be completely beyond our understanding… There’s something else you need to know, sir.”
Bracing for even worse news, Byron replied, “Hit me with it.”
Talking slowly and clearly, the doctor said, “When Burnquist sent us the data burst, it included all ship information with it, including cameras, voice recordings and computer data. We’ve acquired a scan of Robert Frost’s brain, from the moment that his body was taken over by the alien tech. He was directly underneath the medical robot when he turned, and it was preparing for surgery on him by running brain scans before beginning. We have a detailed example of what is happening when the implant takes over. I didn’t study it in detail, because I wanted you to know first.”
An inkling of the implications Billings might be hinting at was coming through to Byron.
In a flat tone, he said, “Both of you, what does this information mean for us? What are our options for this data?”
Ericson spoke, saying, “I see several options, none of which are great, but one is particularly volatile. The first being, we destroy all evidence of the technology and cover everything up, but prepare for its continued use against us. Two, we use the data to try to neutralize the technology, but will have to bring in a lot of people to achieve success. The third – and this is the bad one – we use the data to replicate the technology, and use it against them.”
Byron needed less than a second to have his mind made up, but wanted to hear his employee’s opinions before speaking.
“Billings, what do you think?”
The doctor thought for a moment, aware that his morals were being tested by the man.
“Destroy everything, sir. If word gets out about the kind of research we would have to do on those types of projects, the company could be ruined.” he said, his voice and expression firm.
Good, you get to keep your job, Byron thought.
“Ericson. What is your take?”
The engineer also deliberated for a moment before answering.
“I agree with Billings. We’d step deeply into human rights violations if we were to go into this field of study. It could ruin us and put most of us in prison. Destroy it all, sir.”
Smiling inwardly, but maintaining an expression of stone, Byron said, “I agree. Make it happen. This conversation never took place, do you understand?”
“Understood, Mr. Byron.” they said in unison.
“You are dismissed.” their employer replied.
Both men exited the room quickly, not eager to be near Byron any longer than necessary when he was in a bad mood.
Byron tapped his fingers on his desk for a minute or so, musing over the events of the last few minutes.
He pushed an intercom, speaking to the secretary desk in front of his private elevator.
“The head of security, Mr. Williams, is currently completing a task for me. See that after he does so, he returns to my office.”
A nervous male intern’s voice replied, “Of c-course, sir. I’ll attend to it at once.”
Thinking about the questions he had, he said himself, “Frank must have known that the implant had to come out. So why didn’t he act sooner?”
Sighing, he spent the time before Mr. Williams arrived using his computer to make arrangements for Captain Nolan’s next of kin.
Reading the information in Nolan’s contract, he came across a detail he’d not seen before.
“Hmmm, Jason…your next of kin has no relation to you. You gave everything to Ms. Martina Rivera, age 54, listed as your dependent.”
Continuing to read, Byron saw a note written into the margins of the contract, saying, “If I die, you take care of Martina. If anything happens to her, I’ll haunt the shit out of you until the day you die, Byron.”
He smiled thinly.
I can do that, Jason. It wouldn’t be in due course to dishonor a contract.
“I have been patient enough to do as you say, human! I’m still not even sure that I’m going to be paid for this, and I’m still working! What I will not tolerate is you telling me to ‘hurry up’!” the Corti said, a flash of annoyance on his face, forgetting that the expression was lost upon the unimplanted human.
Ted backed off, sensing that the Corti was less susceptible to intimidation, or at least more stubborn.
Moving away from Frank and a still restrained Robert, he watched both Gaoians undergoing the procedure to remove their implants. He’d insisted that Frank and Robert be seen first though.
The Vzk’tk dockworker had been a life saver.
He’d taken to calling him ‘Rick’, though he thought he might be missing a “z” somewhere in the first syllable.
As he’d been promised riches and career boosts, the Vzk’tk had been cooperative, if a bit nervous, in going out into the station to find what Ted needed.
He’d returned with a traveling Corti doctor, perfectly suited to Ted’s needs. The Corti seemed perfectly alright with secrecy and had a ship full of medical supplies.
After some begging, a veiled threat to ensure anonymity, and a poorly concealed hint at him being high level human military,Ted had managed to get the Corti to agree to help them. But, only with promise of payment.
Several other ideas about what they needed had occurred to Ted as well, but he had no way to act upon them until he had money.
He still wasn’t sure if Byron would come through or not.
They had just enough emergency credits stashed in the Captain’s quarters to keep the Corti working, but it wasn’t enough to entice a ship repair crew, or buy passage for two bodies to the human colony.
The human looked at his companions.
Back alley surgery. How did we get here?
“I am done, human. I expect my full payment now.” the Corti said, backing away from an unconscious Ryst.
Ted still hadn’t asked his name, nor did the little grey man seem inclined to give it.
Frank slept, wearing a metallic cap on his head, appearing much more agreeable to the world at large. Robert was asleep as well, looking much less tense than he’d been before and just as ridiculous in his own metal hat. The Gaoians were still knocked cold, but two bloody translator implants sat on a metal tray next to where they lay.
Ted walked towards the implants and threw them on the ground, crushing them under his heel. The Corti merely watched the display, unnerved by the unnecessary violence, but not voicing his concern.
He’d taken a risk in doing as the human asked. By all rights, he wasn’t supposed to practicing medicine at all anymore, but bills needed to be paid.
It was expensive business to be on the run from the Directorate.
Kulquit wondered if he’d live to see his payment.
Ted began feeling nervous, knowing full well he didn’t have the credits to pay the Corti for his work.
“Uhhh…right. Let me see what I can do about that. I’ll be right back” he said, leaving the cargo bay quickly and stepping into the large hangar outside the ship.
The Corti looked at his four patients, wondering why he’d been stupid enough to involve himself with humans.
Ted exited the open airlock to find Rick running towards him, a Rrrrtktktkp’ch in his wake.
“Rick, I told you not to bring anyone else here!” Ted snapped, pleased to see his words invoked a healthy amount of fear. It felt good to not be at the bottom of the totem pole for once.
“I apologize, sir! It’s just…he has your payment ready.” Rick replied, cowing before the human.
“My paym- Ah yes, thank you, sir. It’s very nice to meet you.” Ted quickly replied, backpedaling and becoming polite.
Byron did come through.
The Rrrrtktktkp’ch moved forward, bowing slightly as he said, “We were most excited to receive confirmation of your shipment of materials. The price you gave us is very competitive, and we were given instructions to bring the first half of your payment to this hangar. The rest shall be delivered at a later date, after we receive the shipment.”
Reaching into a bag that he slung down from his back, he hefted a large sack from it, grunting under the weight.
Taking the offered bag with one hand, Ted asked, “Right, uhhh, what business was it that you represent?”
If Ted had an implant, he would have noted the shifty grin that the Rrrrtktktkp’ch wore as he said, “I am a representative of an organization called the Five Suns. We have a very small presence on this station, but we do good and clean business here. Thank you for your patronage, sir. And don’t worry,” he smirked, looking around at the deserted hangar, “anonymity and privacy are things I understand very well. I hope to do business with you again very soon.”
“Right, um, just to be sure, what was it that we sold you?”
The Rrrrtktktkp’ch bowed and began walking away as he said, “You sold us a very large amount of platinum, among several other rare metals. We have a buyer who has just recently lost their usual supply, and will pay a fine price for it. The funds we procure from the sale will help us greatly in an…endeavour that we are undertaking. Again, thank you for your generosity.”
Right, none of my business. Alright, pay the doctor, get the bodies to Cimbrean, find a repair crew, buy one of those 3D fabricators, buy EVA suits for the Gaoians, and resupply the ship for good measure.
Ted reached into the bag and grabbed some of the credits, not even denting the pile.
Throwing Rick what amounted to a month’s pay, he said, “Here’s your first taste of being on humanity’s good side. Now, I’ve got more work for you.”