A/N: Thank you guest Laureleaf for your review!
Summary: A spur of the moment client turns out to be more trouble than he's worth.
"A Side Job"
Another shipment delivered, another job completed, and this would be the time when Athos would weave through the bustling port city in search of a tavern to get drunk in. But he'd decided he wasn't going to let himself wallow anymore. So what if his murderous ex-wife wasn't in prison anymore? So what if she apparently wanted revenge against him? He'd moved on, built another life for himself. And he wasn't going to let her or the ghost of what they'd once shared continue to drive him to the bottle. Not in excess, anyway.
So instead of granting the crew shore leave, he decided to get them back into space and heading back to Beaumonde. Only Porthos protested missing out on a good card game.
"Play with Aramis," Athos responded. "He has trash duty this week. I'm sure he'd love the chance to pawn it off on you."
Porthos grumbled under his breath and Athos knew the man was missing more than just a simple card game. They'd agreed long ago never to cheat when playing with brothers.
"Ah, gentlemen!" a voice called out from the bustling docks.
Athos and Porthos turned as a man dressed in rusted reds and oranges and wearing a hat with several feathers fluttering from it waved to them from the bottom of the cargo ramp.
"Yes?" Athos answered.
"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Emile Bonnaire and I'm looking for passage off this planet. Not too far out of the way, just to a moon in this same system. Might you have room?"
Athos exchanged a look with Porthos. It wasn't unusual for people to troll the docks in search of passage, though there were plenty of vessels that hung around looking to pick up a large group to make some money off of. The Luciole never had to do that, but a job was a job.
"Very well." Athos strode down the ramp to meet him. "I am Captain Athos. That's Porthos. I'll give you the company's account number you can transfer payment to."
Bonnaire pulled a face. "Oh, I don't trust banks. They're so conglomerate and impersonal, commerce reduced to strings of numbers on a screen. What happened to good old fashioned, tangible things?" He held up a finger with one hand and reached into his pocket with the other. "Coin is much more reliable."
Athos regarded the pouch for a moment before relenting. He could just transfer Commodore Treville's percentage from his own accounts.
Athos accepted the pouch and checked the amount, satisfied it was fair. "Do you have any luggage?"
Bonnaire brightened. "Ah yes. You there, could you give me a hand?" He waved at Porthos.
Porthos lumbered down the ramp and followed him a short distance to where a miniature forklift was parked. Bonnaire picked up a duffel bag that was sitting atop a larger container and smiled at Porthos, who climbed behind the control stick and drove the forklift up the ramp. Then Athos helped him get the container off the pallet, straining under the unexpected weight of it.
"Oy, what do you have in here?" Porthos grunted.
"Rare books."
"Books?" Porthos repeated dubiously.
Athos staggered as they finally got the container off the pallet.
"Yes," Bonnaire replied. "Paper is a collectible, you know. Very valuable in an age of data pads."
Porthos angled a skeptical look at Athos. "Right."
He backed the forklift down the ramp and deposited it at one of the loading stations for another person to use. Then he closed up the cargo bay doors and Athos got on the intercom to tell d'Artagnan to lift off, informing him of the detour stop they were going to make for a last-minute passenger.
Athos turned to Bonnaire. "If you'll follow me."
He led their guest up the catwalk to the main deck where the guest rooms were located and showed him to one he could use for the duration of the journey.
Bonnaire nodded in appreciation at the accommodations, but then snapped to attention as Constance strolled down the corridor toward them. "Mademoiselle, what an unexpected ravishing beauty to find aboard a vessel like this."
Her brows rose sharply.
"Constance, this is Emile Bonnaire," Athos introduced. "He's hired us for passage. Constance is the ship's mechanic."
"Ah, a fine trade for such delicate hands," Bonnaire declared. "I could have been a mechanic, but alas, I lack the dexterity for it." He held up his fingers and wiggled them. Then he deftly plucked one of the feathers from his hat and held it out to her. "The tail feather of an Amazonian macaw, quite the loveliest bird in the terraformed jungles, but not half so lovely as you. It matches your eyes perfectly."
Constance's cheeks flushed. "I thank you for the compliment, monsieur, but I'm married."
Bonnaire straightened. "As am I, but a man cannot deny beauty when faced with it. That would make him disingenuous."
Constance flicked a look at Athos, and he cocked his head to give her permission to leave.
"Excuse me, monsieur," she said politely. "Welcome aboard."
Bonnaire's eyes tracked her as she hurried past them.
Athos stepped in front of him and held out his arm for the man to accompany him the other direction. "I'll show you the kitchen."
Bonnaire grinned, and Athos led him around the corner to the mess.
"Meals are served three times a day," Athos informed him. "You are welcome to eat with us."
Bonnaire nodded eagerly as he roved his gaze around. "This is a nice ship. Firefly is a good quality. It should never have been discontinued. If I'd been able to at the time, I would've kept up production of these fine vessels."
Athos held back a sigh. "We'll arrive at our destination late tomorrow. If you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to."
"Yes, of course." Bonnaire waved him off. "Captain-y things to be done."
Athos ducked out of the kitchen and made a hasty beat to the bridge so he could get on the comms and report their impromptu client to Treville in case the Commodore had another assignment lined up for them.
At least this side job would be a quick one.
o.0.o
Porthos sat in the kitchen with Aramis, listening to Bonnaire regale them with tales of his adventures. Apparently he'd been all over the verse, engaging in some entrepreneurship or other.
"You'd think you'd have yer own ship for all this travelin'," Porthos commented.
Bonnaire cocked a finger at him. "That's next on my list. And five years from now, a whole fleet. Just like your musketeer company. You know, I could've taken to this life. My father raised me on stories of the musketeers and their great travels."
Porthos furrowed his brow. "The company didn't even exist back then."
"Right you are! Here, I've got something you should try."
He leaned down to reach into his duffel and Porthos shot a look at Aramis, who just rolled his eyes. Bonnaire came back up with a jug of dark colored glass, some liquid sloshing around inside.
"This is a brew I found in a small settlement out on Three Hills. I'm in the middle of contract negotiations for distributing to the Core. It'll be a hit." He plopped the bottle down in front of Porthos. "Have a taste."
Porthos would never say no to wine, and so popped the cork out and took a swig. The splash of sweetness on his tongue surprised him. "Oh, that's good." He passed the bottle to Aramis.
Bonnaire leaned back with a grin. "Told you."
Aramis took a sip and then pursed his mouth appreciatively.
The intercom crackled and d'Artagnan's voice came over the speaker. "Captain, can you come up to the bridge?"
Normally curiosity would get Porthos to meander up that way, but he was enjoying the free wine and took another drink as Bonnaire launched into another story of some business dealing, though Porthos was beginning to doubt how much truth there was in these tales.
The ship suddenly jolted like it'd been hit with something and Porthos was nearly flung from his chair. Wine spilled down his sleeve.
"What was that?" Bonnaire asked in alarm.
Porthos leaped to his feet and shoved the wine jug into the man's hands, then hurried after Aramis toward the bridge.
Athos was already there, one hand gripping the back of the pilot's seat while d'Artagnan appeared to be wrestling with the control stick. A reverberating boom rocked the ship again.
Aramis caught himself on the guard rail in the ceiling. "What's happening?"
"We're being pursued," Athos said tautly.
The ship lurched, throwing Porthos against the comms seat.
"And shot at," d'Artagnan muttered as he cranked the control stick left, then right. "Captain, maybe I can lose them in the atmosphere."
Porthos saw a planet looming just left of their window.
"Do it," Athos replied. He grabbed the radio for the intercom and pressed the speaker button. "Buckle in."
Porthos briefly thought of Bonnaire and hoped the man had gone back to his rooms. The kitchen wasn't the best place for things to go flying around in. Constance had a safety belt in the engine room so she'd be fine.
The planet's hazy atmosphere filled the window, blotting out visibility, and then it was down to navigation sensors and d'Artagnan's piloting skills. As they broke through to clear skies, the proximity alarms started blaring. D'Artagnan jerked the control stick, and a shot went streaking past their port side.
"Didn't lose 'em," Porthos muttered.
Athos pointed out the window.
"I see it," d'Artagnan gritted out and veered the ship toward some mountainous rock formations that erosion had hollowed out.
Porthos swallowed hard as he realized what d'Artagnan was planning. "Um…"
"We can fit," the lad said staunchly.
Porthos gripped the back of the comms station chair and cringed as the rocks zoomed larger. He squeezed his eyes shut right before he expected them to crash into the side of the mountain, but then snapped them open again when nothing happened. He wished he'd kept them closed. The ship was sweeping between rock clefts and under arches.
A burst of weapons fire shot past, lighting up the cavern before striking a crag up ahead. Rock exploded into hundreds of falling chunks.
"D'Artagnan!" Porthos yelled as the pilot cranked the stick, barely evading the avalanche toppling down on top of them.
The Luciole continued to glide lower into the cavernous labyrinth, the other ship too large to follow.
Athos tapped d'Artagnan's shoulder and pointed to a place where they could land.
"So who are our new friends?" Aramis asked once they'd touched down and shut the engines off.
"We don't know," Athos replied. "They didn't identify themselves."
D'Artagnan snatched up the radio. "Constance, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, though I won't be if those bastards keep shooting holes in my ship."
Aramis arched his brows and mouthed, "Her ship?"
D'Artagnan rolled his eyes. "We should be safe for a little while."
There was a rumble from far above and they all froze. Some tiny rocks shook loose and fell like sand a few feet outside the window. A few moments later another reverberation rattled the cavern.
"Or not…" Porthos uttered.
"They're gonna bombard the surface until they can triangulate our location," d'Artagnan guessed.
"Or bury us," Aramis added.
"We need a plan," Athos said. "Porthos, would you check on our guest? Tell him to stay in his room until someone tells him he can come out."
Porthos nodded and left the bridge, heading back toward the kitchen. Bonnaire wasn't there. He wasn't in the guest room either. Frowning, Porthos turned down the corridor and found their passenger down in the cargo hold fussing over his container.
"Everythin' alright?" Porthos asked, clomping down the stairs.
Bonnaire jerked upright like he'd been caught doing something naughty. "Yes, of course. No problems here. Except for that ruckus earlier. Is something wrong?"
"We were under attack. But we're safe at the moment. The captain requests you remain in your room until we've resolved the issue."
Bonnaire hesitated. "Oh, alright. I understand."
The shifty way he kept glancing at his container pinged something in Porthos's gut.
Porthos narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't happen ta know anythin' about it, would ya?"
"What?" the man spluttered. "Of course not! That's absurd."
"Uh-huh." Porthos moved around him and surveyed the container, noticing how Bonnaire was twitching more nervously. "Hope none of your books were damaged." He grabbed the lid.
"Now wait just a minute, you can't—"
Porthos shoved the lid so hard that it slid completely off and crashed to the floor, forcing Bonnaire to jump back. Porthos stared in stunned disbelief at the contents, which were not a bunch of hardbound books, but a bunch of solid gold bricks.
Footsteps clamored on the catwalk above.
"Porthos?" Aramis queried.
"You'd better get Athos," he called, not taking his eyes off the shiny, glittering gold.
A few moments later, the rest of the crew had joined them in the cargo hold.
"This here might be the reason for our surprise friends," Porthos said, gesturing to the container.
Athos's eyes narrowed a fraction as he took in the contents. "Books?" he intoned, skewering Bonnaire with a pointed glare.
Aramis came around to get a better look. "They're imprinted." He huffed in agitation. "Alliance."
"It's illegal to deal in Alliance gold," Athos said, glowering at Bonnaire.
The man gave a nervous laugh. "The best business ventures require some risk."
"The ship that attacked us didn't identify themselves as Alliance," d'Artagnan pointed out.
"Ah, that might be my business partner," Bonnaire explained. "Terrible sense, he has. If we make a run for it, I'll cut you in for a percentage." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"That would be the percentage your business partner was expecting?" Athos replied drolly.
"Come on, he would just as soon have shot me and taken the gold for himself," Bonnaire whined. "Running was self-defense."
Athos turned to the others. "We need a plan of escape."
Bonnaire leaned in toward their circle. "Good, yes!"
"So we can reach the authorities and turn Monsieur Bonnaire in," the captain finished.
"Hey!"
"We could use the shuttle as a decoy," Aramis suggested.
"That's risky," Porthos interjected. "They might shoot it out of the sky."
Aramis grinned. "Not if they think the gold is on it."
o.0.o
Aramis powered up the shuttle and disengaged from the Luciole's docking bay. As he sped out of the rocky caverns, Athos's voice came over the comms.
"Bonnaire, get back here!"
It was an open channel, and sure enough, it didn't take long for the attacking ship to swoop down on Aramis, the much larger vessel keeping pace right on top of the shuttle and forcing it toward the ground. Aramis immediately landed and flipped off the engines. Then he got up from the pilot's seat and opened the side hatch, looking out as the other ship finished landing a short distance away. One of its doors opened and five men disembarked. Their hostile expressions turned even more furious when they got close enough to spot Aramis.
"Where's Bonnaire?" the man in the center demanded.
"He's not here at the moment. Can I take a message?" Aramis called back.
"Find the gold!" the man exploded, and his goons whipped out their guns and started shooting.
Aramis ducked back inside the shuttle for cover as bullets ricocheted off the hull. Taking a breath, he drew his pistol and leaned out to return fire. He shot one guy in the leg but had to jerk back quickly to avoid taking a bullet himself. He was outnumbered and the men would be on him in moments.
Then he heard the whir of the Luciole as it finally joined them. The rate of gunfire increased and Aramis chanced a look outside. Athos and Porthos were charging out of the ship's cargo hold, guns blazing. With the armed men's attention divided, Aramis swept out and started shooting again.
The fight was over quickly with the only casualties on the side of the marauders. The musketeers strode over to pick up the weapons in case any of them were still alive. They could crawl back to their ship or wait for the authorities to come get them once this whole incident had been reported.
The dust hadn't even settled yet when Aramis heard a small engine revving. He looked up to see Bonnaire driving one of their ATVs off the ship, the back laden with gold bricks, and careening away into the wilderness.
Porthos huffed. "Where's he think he's gonna go?"
Aramis just shrugged.
They got the shuttle back on the Luciole and then flew after Bonnaire. It wasn't hard to catch up with him, considering the ATV had been low on gas to begin with. They landed barely a mile away from the scene of the ambush, and after the loading ramp was lowered, Aramis and Porthos just stood at the top of it for a few moments as they watched Bonnaire struggle to bodily lug some of the gold bricks across the ground.
The man finally gave up and collapsed against them. Huffing and puffing, he lifted his head toward the musketeers. "Are you sure I can't offer you a cut?" he called.
Aramis and Porthos shared a smirk and marched down to retrieve him. Once he and the gold were back on board, they flew to the nearest Sheriff station and dropped off both Bonnaire and his illegal cargo. It was a job well done, though with nothing to show for it.
"They could've given us a reward at least," Porthos groused as they headed for the door.
"We did the honorable thing," Athos replied.
"Coulda given us a reward for that too."
Aramis shook his head in amusement and paused to hold the door open for a beautiful woman with dark hair. She flashed him a coquettish smile as she passed, her voice wafting out behind him as he followed his brothers,
"Hello, Sheriff. I'm Emile Bonnaire's attorney…"