Chapter Ten

Spinning Stones

The air in BR-558's Beta Colony was still and muggy. Walking down the trash littered, poorly illuminated street, Cadman could see why Crespo didn't have much of an interest in rehabilitating the place. It was too far gone already. So far gone in their estimation that they were letting the environmental systems work just hard enough to make the place habitable, but not comfortable. Cost saving measure, if he were to guess. He'd read and memorized the datafile that Vesper had sent him on the place. Abandoned for the most part once the last profitable veins of ore had gone dry. Most of the businesses that had sprung up to serve the colony's needs had left soon after, not seeing much point in staying as the miners lost their profit sharing bonuses. The regular wages that the miners made were barely enough to cover the essentials, and so entertainment, restaurants, and the like had gone out of business fast.

That didn't mean the place was uninhabited though. Most of the miners had been forced to stay on for the remainder of their contracts, and had been shifted to doing the most menial and dangerous work around the Alpha Colony's mines. They still lived here, commuting via the public transit system that linked the two colonies. Despite the miners presence though there was little to no legitimate money to be made here. Which means there's plenty of room for illegitimate trade.

Cadman paused under the sickly yellow light of one of the few working street lamps. He stared up at the stars as they rotated above him and pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep breath of tobacco infused smoke before blowing it out his nose. Nasty habit to be sure, but Cadman didn't mind. It was good to have obvious vices. It meant people would look at them and think they knew how to manipulate you, when in reality they were looking at the wrong thing. Though he'd admit the fact that he enjoyed the feeling that came along with a good smoke certainly had something to do with keeping the habit.

When he had finished his cigarette he flicked the butt onto the street and looked around. He was right where he was supposed to be. Someone should have been along to meet him by now. He turned around, slowly, and then smiled when he saw a maned wolf standing there, dressed in a wife beater and shorts, tail flicking behind him. "Hi there," Cadman said, looking the maned wolf up and down. Good muscle tone, healthy pelt, and looking tense but not skittish. "Shea send you?"

"She did," the maned wolf said. "Name is Dylan. You Cadman?"

"Yeah." Cadman nodded. "You need to frisk me or anything?"

Dylan smirked. "I do. Arms out, and try not to laugh if you're ticklish."

Cadman gave Dylan a dirty look and then complied. Arms at his side he tapped a foot impatiently as the maned wolf patted down every inch of him. Every inch. "Heh. That ain't a gun."

Dylan looked up at him and narrowed his eyes. "This is." He pulled out the blaster from the inside pocket of Cadman's coat.

"You didn't think I'd be stupid enough to walk around a neighborhood like this without one, did you?" Cadman said with an arched eyebrow. "Especially with folks like you lurking in the street."

Dylan snorted. "You got nothing to worry about from me unless Shea says otherwise." Dylan reached into Cadman's other coat pocket and pulled out a handheld scanner. He looked it over, flicked it on and gave its menu a cursory examination, then handed it back. "Come on, place is this way." Dylan waved a hand for Cadman to go ahead of him.

Cadman complied, satisfied by the maned wolf's caution. He was treating him like a prisoner, not a guest, which meant Shea had taught her crew to trust no one, least of all their employers. Doing the work she does, for the people she does it for, that's a very good thing.

They walked in silence, Cadman turning and stopping where Dylan told him to. As they moved Cadman kept track of every place they went, committing street signs and landmarks to memory. The further they went however the darker and closer the streets and the buildings got. Cadman could guess that they were leaving the semi-illuminated neighborhoods of Beta and moving into the old, abandoned warehousing districts.

"Stop here," Dylan said from behind.

Cadman stopped and turned around to look at the maned wolf. The canid walked up to a small control panel set against the wall of the building. Looking up Cadman spotted the seams in the doorway, stretching from one of the end of the building's front to the other. A hangar then. Abandoned, of course. Cadman craned his neck to take a look at the ceiling of Beta Colony. High enough for flight, provided you don't want to do any crazy maneuvering. Interesting.

"You ever fly around here?" Cadman asked, watching as Dylan typed in a security code.

"Sometimes." Dylan shrugged. "If we have heavy cargo that needs to get to the Beta spaceport."

"So, Beta does have a spaceport."

"Heh." Dylan shook his head, his mane flowing with the motion. "Not for tourists."

The doors to the hangar bay slid open with a dull roar. Cadman noted the lack of squeaking from distressed metal, which told him Shea's crew kept their territory in good repair. Another point in their favor. "After you." Dylan jerked his head towards the opening.

Cadman walked in, squinting a bit at the first adequate light he'd seen since leaving the main spaceport at Alpha Colony. His eyes adjusted quickly, and he took stock of the room. Metal crates and other cargo containers took up a fair portion of the area, the rest was filled out by what looked to be an old Cormorant-class dropship. A bit scorched around the smooth, rounded edges, but its quadruple engine pods looked to be in good his gaze full upon the center of the room, where, glimmering in the overhead lights, sat the most remarkable space vehicle he had seen in his life. Brilliant chrome finish outlined by sharp edges that gave it a dangerous, lethal feel. Cadman smiled. That's what I'm here for.

The door rattled shut behind him, and Cadman looked up to see a female snow leopard coming down a short flight of stairs from an upper level office space. "Shea Etcher?"

"That'd be me," she called, picking up her pace to get alongside him. She held out a hand. "I assume you're here to check on the merchandise?"

Cadman took the hand and squeezed it. Shea squeezed back, her grip easily matching his. Yeah. She could be useful. "Yes. Give me a few minutes to kick the tires and then I'll let you know what's going to happen next."

"Be my guest." Shea gestured to the Arwing. Dylan cleared his throat and beckoned her. "Excuse me."

Turning back to the Arwing Cadman pulled his scanner from his coat. He flicked it on and started taking readings, walking a slow circle around the starfighter. He was halfway around it when the first set of scans confirmed that it was the prototype Vesper was looking for, and not some elaborate decoy. He tapped a control to start the second batch of scans and glanced over at Shea and Dylan. The two of them had their heads together, talking in hushed, urgent tones. Interesting.

When he got to the nose of the Arwing he bent down and ran the scanner underneath it. He looked into the forward laser cannon, impressed at the firepower the ship's default weapon provided. He didn't have long to appreciate it however. His scanner started beeping. "Hello." Cadman stood up and scrolled through the readings. "Shea?"

"What?" The snow leopard looked over, worry lines creasing the fur on her forehead.

"You are aware this thing is spitting out radiation like a leaky fuel rod?" Cadman asked.

"Yes." Shea stalked over with a shake of her head. "I didn't block it since you're crazy ass boss told me not to. Fucking hell. No wonder they're here."

That caught Cadman's attention. "Who?"

Shea grimaced and replied, "A Federation frigate just entered orbit above the asteroid."

Now that was unexpected. "Feds huh? Security or military?"

"Military," Shea told him.

"Strange," Cadman noted. "The military doesn't usually get called in for this sort of thing. That's what the Security Forces are for."

"I don't particularly care about the legal aspect of it," Shea bit out. "I want this thing gone. Now. Before they find it."

"Relax honey," Cadman said, resting a meaty hand on her shoulder. "If it's a military ship they're probably here on a resupply run or for repairs. Give it a day. If they're not gone by then, then we can start worrying."

Shea glared at him and shoved his hand off her shoulder. "And what if I say different?"

Assertive. Point in her favor. Cadman looked in her eyes, searching for signs of panic. He didn't find any. Good. She was concerned, but not liable to do anything stupid. "Our mutual employer didn't just send me to check out the merchandise. He also wanted me to make arrangements for getting it off this rock and into his hands."

"And how do you plan to do that?" Shea asked, eyes narrowing as she looked up at him, her tail swaying behind her.

"By hiring you." Cadman watched as she glared, then looked at him with bland amusement.

"How much are you offering?"

"First, if it comes down to it, do you think you can get past a frigate?" Cadman asked, leaning forward a bit, invading her personal space. He wanted to see how she reacted to a little up close and personal pressure.

Shea didn't flinch or try to get away, she just kept staring at him while she said, "Yes. But I'd prefer not to."

"Good." Cadman leaned away and pulled out his packet of cigarettes. He pulled one out, then offered another one to her. She took it, much to his satisfaction. Lighting them both up he said, "Give it a day. If they're still here after that, we'll come up with a new plan. Now, name your price"

Shea nodded, taking a drag from the cigarette before blowing the smoke in his face. "You know my rates, I'm sure." Cadman nodded. "Double the usual, because I can tell you need me, so I can get away with it. And, if we have to fight our way past that frigate, I expect to be fully compensated for any damage to my ship. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Cadman held out his hand and they shook once more. With business concluded, Cadman said, "You have a comm unit?"

"In the office." Shea pointed up the stairs. "Help yourself. It's encrypted."

Cadman stepped past her and headed up the stairs. He opened the door to the office and stepped in. Small, well lived in. A single desk, a comm unit resting on it, and a computer. Three chairs, one behind the desk, the other two in front. And an ash tray with several cigarette butts. That made Cadman smile. I think I'm going to like her.

Sitting down behind the desk Cadman took another drag and then typed the code Vesper had given him into the comm unit. The comm flashed as it made the connection, and then a blue, pulsating orb appeared. Cadman recognized the distorted voice being used when Vesper said, "Cadman. Report."

Taking one last lungful of smoke before answering, Cadman said, "I'm afraid there's been a complication."

BR-558's spaceport had none of the magic, amenities, or artistic design of its Cornerian cousins. Corneria's spaceports were architectural wonders, incorporating styles from every world and every era in a seamless, unified design, meant to demonstrate the world's multicultural heritage. There were gardens with centuries old trees, soft grass, and brilliant flowers. There were restaurants that catered to every diet and every price range. Shops and stores offering goods from a hundred different places on a dozen different planets. A sense of history was given through paintings and signs depicting the names of Corneria's early space travelers. A touch of wonder was added with holographic images of Lylat, Cerinia, Harcothia, Argelius, and hundreds of other solar systems floating in the air above traveler's heads. The hustle and bustle of people arriving and departing narrated by announcements and conversations in dozens of languages and dialects.

Looking around at the stark, metallic surroundings, Archer Lynx saw none of this. Instead, he observed only the bare minimum of facilities in the docking ring. Boarding ramps, cargo conveyors, and monitor panels, along with stacks of crates and cans waiting to be taken to the warehousing districts or loaded onto outbound freighters. The whole place stank of chemicals, machine oil, and metal warmed by Lylat and Solar's radiation. There were no flowers. No grass. And no cafes. Just stark metal equipment that all looked like it could do with a bit more upkeep and a little less use. I guess out here Crespo doesn't have to worry about Cornerian regulatory standards.

Behind them Archer heard the pinging and groaning of cooling hull plating from the freighter he and Star Fox had arrived in. It was a rickety, non-descript thing, carrying a cargo of flash frozen fruit from one of the southern Cornerian rainforests. It had been provided and captained by a man from Federation Intelligence. Archer never would have known. The man, an ursine with a protruding belly and little interest in talk, looked nothing like a spy. He looked, rather, like one of billions of working class people throughout Lylat, some of which Archer had grown up with in the suburbs around Corneria City. The kind of man who worked hard, made ends meet, and spent his six weeks of paid vacation at the local resort and casino six miles down the road before retiring. I almost wonder how many of my neighbors could have been spies.

The bear, Jackson, pushed his way past Archer towards the docking official. As he passed James he muttered softly, "Just let me handle this."

Archer saw James nod. The lynx felt some butterflies in his stomach. This would be the first test of their cover. Crespo had no reason to suspect they were about to be infiltrated, but Intelligence had warned them that any company operating with black marketeers would be on the lookout for forged IDs. Archer hoped that their cover as hired hands looking to score a job on the asteroid would hold up to scrutiny.

Standing next to Vixy, Archer crossed his arms and tried to look nonchalant. Vixy elbowed him in the ribs. "Ow!"

"If you're trying to look casual," she said through grit teeth, "Don't try and look like you're acting casual."

"Sorry." Archer shook his head and did what came naturally, he looked a little nervous. As Jackson talked to the deck official Archer glanced over his shoulder at the starfield. It was wheeling around as the asteroid spun. The spin had been artificially increased to mimic Corneria normal gravity, but looking out at it made Archer feel nauseous. "I never realized how fast things spin in space."

Glancing over at him, Peppy said, "You want to know exactly how fast we're spinning?"

Feeling his ears turn green Archer looked away and shook his head. "Please no."

"Come on Archer, don't you have your space legs yet?" Vixy teased, sticking her tongue out at him and wagging her tail.

"Artificial gravity is one thing," Archer said, breathing deeply. "Seeing the stars spinning like a pinwheel is another."

"You know," James chimed in, "Back in the early days of space travel the only place on a ship that had gravity was a central area that spun to produce it. Before we invented gravity plating."

"I'm glad I was born in a civilized century." Archer shook his head and reached into the pocket of his jumpsuit. He pulled out a tin of peppermints, removed two, and popped them in his mouth. He felt a wash of relief almost immediately.

"Hey."

"What?" Vixy was looking at him as he started to replace the tin.

"Hand me some of those." Vixy stuck out a hand, making a grabby gesture with her fingers. Archer sighed and handed her the tin. She took two and handed it back. "Mmm. I love these. Oddly Strong mints."

"Oddly Strong has always been my favorite brand." Archer replaced the tin and looked over at Jackson. "What do you think is taking so long?"

James shrugged and said, "I think they're having a chat."

"A chat?" Archer narrowed his eyes. "About what?"

Next to Archer, Peppy swiveled his ears briefly in the direction of the ursine and the simian dock official. "Something about landing permits. Sounds like a lot bureaucratic posturing. Nothing to worry about."

"I wish I had ears like yours."

"It's not always a blessing," Peppy said, eyes shifting over to look at James.

James, picking up on Peppy's veiled implication, smirked and said, "Look, how was I supposed to know the hotel walls were that thin?"

Vixy snorted and clapped James on the shoulder. "Aww. Were you keeping Peppy up with your whore moans?"

"Actually I think it was probably the twins..." James trailed off as Jackson shook hands with the dock official and then made his way back over to them. "What's the word?"

"The word is good." Jackson nodded back towards the freighter. "Help me unload, then you can head to your hotel."

"Alright." James looked back at them and said, "Well don't just stand there. We've got fruit that is currently running out of its freshness guarantee. Let's move it."

"You got it." Archer turned around, took one look at the starfield as it rotated and said, "Jackson?"

"Bathrooms are over there." The bear pointed towards a set of doors about ten meters away.

"Right." Archer took off at a run, muttering to himself, "This mission is not going to end well."

The door to the hotel room clicked shut behind them and the lights flicked on. "Wow. Luxury accommodations," James said, taking stock of the room.

Two queen sized beds, a holovision, and a chair with a small, scuffed writing desk, and nothing else. The walls were wallpapered, but it was ripped, torn, and tattered in more places than it was smooth. James couldn't really get a handle on what the pattern might have been originally. His nose twitched as he took the scent of the room. Plenty of disinfectant, so at least the place was clean, but it still didn't hide the scent of the hundreds of different people that had occupied the room in the past. "I do not recommend a black light," he added.

"Oh gross." Vixy shuddered next to him.

"Aww it's alright. We can make our own stains on the linen." James wrapped an arm around her shoulder and made a kissy face. Vixy shoved him away and gave him the finger. Peppy looked at him with a reproachful eye. "Oh. Right." I can't believe I signed that.

"Exactly." Peppy unshouldered his duffel bag and tossed it on one of the beds. "You'll be sleeping with me while we're here, James."

The room went silent, and James looked at his best friend with a massive, shit eating grin. Peppy, bent forward a bit as he set his case on the bed, straightened up and looked back at James. He groaned when he saw the look on the vulpine's face. "Of course you would take it like that."

"Sorry Pep." James put his own duffel bag on the bed and unzipped. He checked the contents. A couple changes of clothes, rolled on the surface. Beneath them a Cornerian Army standard issue EP-37 electro-plasma sidearm, and a few spare power cells. A handheld scanner, a comm unit, since cell phones were both unreliable on asteroid colonies like this, and subject to easy tracking and tapping, and finally his e-reader, chock full of books on everything from aviation to action thrillers and, just in case he really needed it, a few dirty novels he'd gotten on the cheap. The cheap ones are the most fun.

"Wait."

James looked over at Vixy. She was looking at the e-reader with an expression of astonishment on her face. "Mm?"

"You can read?"

James glared at her. "Fun-ee."

Vixy just cackled and started going through her own bag. "Peppy?" James glanced at the hare.

"On it." The hare pulled out their bug sniffer and started scanning the room. It'd take a few minutes, and in the meantime they would need to make some casual conversation. Conversation appropriate for spacers who had, according to their cover, been stuck on a freighter doing cargo runs for the better part of three months.

"So," said James, "Anyone spot that slut by the docks?"

Archer, who had been taking a drink from a water bottle, started making choking noises. Peppy rolled his eyes. Vixy, however, was game to play along. "What, the one with the thick ass? Yeah I saw her. You going after that?"

"Yeah. Or at least someone like that." James flopped on the bed and put an arm behind his neck. "I want some serious cushion for my pushin'. How about you?"

Vixy shrugged, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, her tail swinging behind her. "I don't know. I'll be honest, I could go for a big guy. Muscle-gut you know? Tough hard ass who don't give a shit. You know the type."

"Sure do." James eyed Vixy. I wonder if she's serious. "Should be plenty of them around here. Just head to any of those dive bars down the street. You could probably pick up three or four, if you were into that."

"I might be." Vixy licked her chops, and James knew she had to be teasing him. "What about you Lynx?"

Archer, who had managed to get his breathing under control, sat down in the room's one chair and said, "I got a girl back home."

"Bullshit." Vixy shook her head. "And besides, you really give a fuck? How long have we been out here? Take my advice, find a girl, or a guy, and dump those nuts."

"Good advice," James agreed. He looked at Vixy with newfound respect. She was getting into the role. Playing right along.

"We're clear," Peppy announced, deactivating the sniffer. "So, please, can we stop this absolutely disgusting conversation?"

"Sure. Though I'd have loved to see how much further Vixy would would have gone," James said, sitting up on the bed and pulling out his scanner.

"Wouldn't you like to know." Vixy sat down on the other bed and leaned back on her elbows.

"I would." James looked up from his scanner.

"I'll tell you some other time. When we're not oathbound, maybe." Vixy winked at him, then pointed back to his scanner. "Come on, we gotta find that thing."

"Range on that is only about a square kilometer," Archer pointed out. "We can't sweep the entire colony."

"Not Alpha, no." James tapped a few controls on the device, tuning it to scan for the specific isotope they were looking for. "But Beta is a lot smaller, twenty square, tops."

"That'll still take a long time to scan," Archer argued, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "I mean, we could do it, but do you really wanna be walking around a black market haven taking scans for days?"

James frowned. Archer made a good point. "I hadn't thought of that."

"There's another thing we need to think about," Peppy brought up. "Feds have a frigate in orbit. Supposedly they're just trying to scare the crap out of Crespo but..."

James nodded. "The frigate is a distraction. Trust me, with the Clad in Amber up there, and a bunch of Marines and Navy down here, tearing up the town on leave, no one is going to take a second look at a few spacers just trying to get laid." I hope.

"Okay," Vixy said. "So, mighty leader, what's the plan?"

"Well." James paused, a smile creeping up along the edges of his muzzle. "Anyone feel like a drink?"