Copeland Supply, Salvage, and Resale

by cliff.west

This is a spinoff story. It takes place after "But a somehow a most melancholy" and" Hunted Tribes". Please read those before this bit of work. I will not be recovering those stories, but re-reading them will help you fallow this story. This fiction also will be slow on the combat action.

9. Chapter 9 23 Nov 3046

Draft Chapter 9

By Cliff

Beta and Clean up not done

Reviewed by Hotpoint.

23 Nov 3046

Ltzehoe system zenith jump point

Traffic Control was a title, that was very grand sounding and it looked even better on paper. It was also great, when you were trying to pick up a member of the opposite sex on a planet that was past the edge of settled space. It was a bit of overkill of a title, for what this little out of the way system on the edge of human space was in real life. The only reason that this planet even had a Traffic Control station at all. It was because of the ComStar owned and operated a third rate HPG station on the planet's surface. This was the last point of Faster than light communication system access, in this whole area of space. It was hoped, by the local governing body. That one day, a Recharging Station would be built at one of the two main jump points in this system. Something like that would be a major boon for the locals, even if it was built, manned, and maintained by ComStar.

With one of those type of space stations in this system? All of the visiting JumpShips, that now only stopped here to pick up the news from the local HPG and then they would pass the news to other worlds. Then maybe, they would stop for a longer amount of time and trade more with the locals. It would cut down on travel time by weeks. That was not a so small cost, that was passed along to others down the line. This could become a hub of JumpShip activity for this whole area of space, by this one infrastructure upgrade. That meant, that JumpShips would stop by every three to four weeks. Compared to the rest of the systems in the stellar area? This was a lot of traffic. As it was right now, very few dropships would take the time to burn deeper into the system. Radio waves were speed of flight, and Dropships were not.

The Traffic Control center was always manned, no matter what the hour of the day or night it might be. Normally this would not be the case, for a system that saw so little traffic, but the Demi-Precentor over at the HPG compound had insisted on this manning level. He had said, that since ComStar had paid for the equipment. The local government should pay for the manning and make sure that it was staffed, always. That is how Tommy had gotten the job. He was smarter than most, and he was deeply loyal to the governing family of the planet. Those were the two basic requirements for the job, training would be on the job. The local leader had been trying to improve the education department around the planet, but so far. She had only been able to start to affect the area around the capital to any degree, and "How to run a star system wide traffic control headquarters "was not a currently an offered class.

When the alarm of an incoming jump wave started blaring out of the speakers from around his station. He was quick to start up the recording equipment. The jump wave or as it was called E-wave, was already larger than the Merchant class jumpships. The last one of those, which had stopped by weeks ago. Soon the E wave was larger than that time a few years ago, when a fully loaded Invader class JumpShip had stopped by. It had been carrying mercenary's mixed forces battalion, which were out hunting pirates in this local area of space.

Even as Tommy watch, the wave grew in strength. Then soon, the E-wave readings were telling him that it was a very large ship. It had also must have jumped a full thirty light years or very close to it, to have caused that kind of wave. Tommy was smart. He put two and two together, before the JumpShip had entered his home system. It said something special was here, and he hit the alarm button as hard as he could. It was just like he had been trained to do.

This alarm started howling in three different buildings in the nearby area, at the same time. They were the alert desk of the ComStar HPG compound, the head of the small planetary militia, and the planetary Dukes office/home. The last one room was right above the Tommy's head. It was just before local noon, so the Duke was already at work in her office one floor up from Tommy's workspace.

She would know that Tommy would not have pushed that button, unless told to or something important was up. She was out of her desk and moving before most of her brain knew what she was doing. She was moving at almost a run within a dozen steps. The longer the alert sounded, the faster she moved.

Duke Terry was an odd person. She kept the male noble label for its power with the local population, but she was a woman. That part also had helped when dealing with the Magistracy. That political group was only a jump away. It was just the way it had to be, and it work, so far. She just had entered the room that held the equipment, that ComStar had supplied, when a land line started buzzing in the very small and one-man Traffic Control office.

Tommy saw his boss enter the room, and he started to rise from his chair. This was done out of reflexive habit. She was more important that whoever was calling on the land line. She did not smile when she entered the room, but she gave him a nod and then pointed to the ringing phone. When he did not move fast enough. She gave a voice to her motion. She was stressed, but she was experienced enough to know that she needed to cover this fact up.

"Go ahead and pick up the line. It's one of two people. Why not just tell both of us what is going on at the same time, Tommy?"

Tommy smiled at his boss, and then turned to read the ID name, before he picked up the land line. The person on the other end of the line would not know that the Duke was listing in on them, after Tommy activated the speaker phone. He had not been "trained" to do this, but he felt that it was the right move to make.

"Demi-Precentor, we have a JumpShip at the jump point. The computer says it is a Star Lord Class or like sized ship. It also looks like it did a long jump. Wait one minute. A second E-wave is starting to come in. It is a smaller craft, and the wave has now ended. That one must be a Scout Class, and she is running light. We now have two JumpShips, in system. One larger and heavily loaded, and the other one very small and lightly loaded. The computer says that both have just completed a long jump, but we do not have a starting point."

Tommy looked at the Duke, and then he asked a question he thought she might want to know. "Sir. Was ComStar expecting a cargo, and did not let Traffic Control know?" The tone was slightly accusing, and he would not have tried it, if his boss was not ten feet from him. It was not wise to poke the 600kg Tabiranth.

Terry was really starting to like this boy, a lot, even if his father was a rat. He was pulling information for that Holy Roller, which she needed very badly. She had not even needed to ask or prep the kid, about what to say. He just had done it off the top of his head. Then she blanched when the information came over the speaker mounted on the phone.

The Demi Precentor said the next ComStar Ship was not due for around fifty-four days. Even then, it was most likely going to be only a Magellan class ship. She would only be carrying some spare parts for the HPG system, that were coming due for replacements. This most definitely was not a 175,000ton Magellan, stopping by. They had seen one of those small JumpShips before, and had enough data on hand, to recognize one of them by now.

Tommy was still talking to the speaker, when Terry came back to the world. "I'm sorry Demi-Precentor. That is all the information I have. It will still be" Tommy stopped talking to look at a countdown clock on his system. "It will probably be around another 45 more minutes for any light speed communications, to reach us. And that assumes that they started squawking the minute they jumped in system. Okay Sir. I will let the Duke know that you're on the way over." Tommy looked right at the Duke when he said that. He had a funny little smile on his face. But his voice did not waver in the least little bit.

The Duke just shook her head and put one finger to her mouth. She waited for Tommy to close the line before saying anything. "This boy has done a good job," and she felt a reward was warranted. But just a small one.

"Well, I had better go make sure your father is sober. Good job. I just hope it's someone lost, and not someone wanting to cause a local change of management." She turned and left the room. She had a lot of work to do, some of it was good and some of it was going to be very bad.

Less than one hour later, all the major players were in the Traffic Control office. Two of the warm bodies were from the ComStar compound, one person who was in tactical charge of the small militia, the head of the government, and Tommy. The Duke had thrown out anyone else, who wanted in the loop for this emergency. She had kicked out any person, which she did not feel was important enough to be there even if they had deep pockets. Nerves were getting shorter by the minute. It had been a long forty-five minutes after the strange ship jump into the system. Everyone was watching an old analog round wall clock on the wall count the seconds. It was getting warmer in the room, as the time crawled by from so many bodies in such a confined space with little air movement.

As the timer counted to fifty minutes, the computer beeped for attention. Tommy turned and started pushing buttons with his back to the group of planetary level power players. He started talking when, his systems gave him the new information it had picked up. It was not that much information yet, but he knew it still was a good sign.

"We have an incoming message. It's a burst transmission. The computer is working on decompressing it." Tommy did not even look over his shoulder, as he worked the systems around him. He was wanting to show that he had learned a lot in this job already. Even if he did not praise Blake every time, he started a new set of setting changes or had to replace a bad component.

A few more seconds passed before he could or should say anything else. But when Tommy did? His voice had noticeably less stress in it. "Here we go! She is a Tramp class ship going by the name of Styx, and a Scout class going by the name of Toy Box. They say that they are the Copeland Supply, Salvage, and Resale Company. They are returning from a job. They would like to send a, as in one, cargo dropship to the planet. They want to see if they can do some business, while both ship's jump engines recharge. They are waiting for a reply before having their cargo ship start burning in."

Tommy was blinking his eyes, but the others could not see it. He was impressed with the SOP this group was working under. It would seem, that they have been working the outer edge of the periphery for some time. That was the easiest way to explain that they had to come up with a way to say Hi and not get shot at, while they were waiting on a reply. The Periphery was a dangerous place for lone ships, and this edge of the Periphery was even more so than average.

The Duke was the first to say something, now that each of them had been able to breathe again. The less said about their current heart rates, the better. "Well, this was a good emergency drill. We should do it again sometime. It seems like we could use a few more of them. I think our collective response was very sloppy. What if those ships had come in at a pirate jump point? We would not have had the time to prepare for an assault of ten-year-old space cubs." She was looking dead at the head of the small militia force. He had the good sense not to lock eyes with his boss. He knew that his small force had not performed very well.

The Duke turned slightly to gaze at the Traffic control operator. "Tommy transmit the location of the A pad at the "Star port" and them welcome them to our system for trading. Ask them to please contact you, when they have touched down on the pad."

With her orders given, she left the room. She was heading back to her living quarters for a hot shower. She still could smell the fear sweat in her clothes. She could not afford to have that smell picked up by some of the locals, some of which wanted very badly to have her job. That smell was like blood in the water, for those two-legged sharks. She needed more problems, like a bullet in the head. She also needed to work out how to best leverage this new visitor to her best benefit.

The Trojan class dropship made a steady 1g burn, all the way to the planet surface from the jump point. This was not the "normal" speed of a combat landing, or even if the Trojan was being used as she had been designed. She was called a blockade runner for a reason. It really did no one any good, to make the trip uncomfortable. That is, if they did not need to do so to make the mission work. The Captain of the White Rabbit had been a Captain of one of the SLDF Lion Class dropships, until he had retired due to old age a few years before the Colonials found them.

When he was recalled back to active duty, due to the war with the Cylons. He had been assigned to be the XO of the Dropship Hard Hat as soon as he had reported in. It was only when he was told of this job, and then it opened for him by adding a ship that did not already have a crew assigned that this had changed. Until then? He thought, that he would never command a ship of his own again. Now not only was he commanding a dropship? He was commanding one on a Resupply run, again. This was a chance for glory and adventure, again. It was one more day in the sun, and he was not going to risk embarrassing his family and or his fleet commander. If he got his name put into The Remembrance? That would be great! But at his age? He would settle for a positive footnote in a history text somewhere, and a few free drinks at a local bar.

Captain Copeland was setting in one of the empty cabins on the White Rabbit, waiting to land. He could have claimed a chair on the bridge of the ship, but he had not. He had a sly smile on his face, as he waited. "This was the most excitement I have had since the Colonials had shown up, and the entire planet went on alert. Now all I have to do, is not screw it up. What was that old prayer, oh well? I will have to look it up when we get back home."

The landing was more like a combat landing, then a cargo run to a planet. The assigned landing area would have been called an austere landing site on a more settled planet. It was just like what a combat landing, would have been going all the way back to the first use of a combat dropship. The locals did not have a tower, manmade landing pads, or even landing radar to guide in an approaching dropship. All of the things, that a combat landing would not have access to.

"This was going to be fun," thought the Captain of the White Rabbit. As he smiled to himself, "It was so good to be in command again. Even if it was a ship that might have been a scum bag pirate, in the not too distant past." The Captain of the Blockade Runner watched as his crew went through a set of orders. They did this task, as steadily as you would have expected for a crew with this number of years of experience under their collective belts.

The White Rabbit settled on the hard packed and fire scorched earth, with a smooth ease that showed off the skill of the pilot and his support crew. They were only about a kilometer from what must have been the Space Port's primary passenger concourse. The thinking on the bridge of the dropship, was that this must have been considered a prime landing spot. To be this close on New Circe, they would have to had been carrying some very powerful VIPs.

When the temperature display said that it was safe outside, one of the cargo doors started to open on well-oiled hinges. As this was happening. The communication person sent out a few messages to the only person they had contact with on this planet. It said that they were ready to talk at any time, about doing some trading with any local companies. They also passed along in one of the messages to traffic control, which said they would like to contact a taxi service. It would be needed for a ride to and from the HPG compound. On the way down, it was noted that the HPG was in the center of town. The taxis also might be sent to see any worthwhile sellers that were off the Drop port.

Less than an hour later. A little convoy of three wheeled vehicles drove out to the still cooling freshly landed Dropship in a single file line that did not leave a dust cloud. Two were gloss black sedans style and the last was a white panel transport of some kind. It looked more like a minivan in style and function than a sedan. When the little convoy got closer to landing pad A? The crew of the Dropship that had remained working outside, could see the ComStar logo painted on the sides of the lead sedan transport. The crew had already unloaded two metal 9ton boxes. The ground crews now waited for the next step in the dance. Their hands never were very far from the sidearms strapped to their hips, as the wheeled transports got closer.

Each of the metal boxes held a Class 5 auto cannon, within its metal sides. They also unloaded six of what would have been mid-grade home or small office computers on New Circe. The computers were placed on a pair of folding out tables. Those computers had all been replaced in production about three years ago, with better systems. Each of the machines were roughly equal to a Cray XC30 made in 2014. Each of the computers was in its own newly made shipping box for the trip away from home. Captain Copeland, the Captain of the Rabbit, and the senior enlisted person on the dropship walked out of the cargo bay when they could hear the approaching vehicles through the open hatch.

It was quite the entourage that gathered around the base of the dropship. Robert was looking around and mentally putting each person into a mental pigeonhole. It looked like this was going to be a shop and showroom time, before he could send "Emma" to do her mission. This was going to be the first and a very small-scale test, of what this whole mission was about. Robert was hoping that this would knock the last bits of rust off and or show them, where their plans might have any unnoticed flaws.

"Well? I had better get this started, before the sun goes down. They might even buy something today." Robert had said that in a soft voice, so that it would not carry past the five feet he wanted it to. It would not due for the rest of the crew to know that their commander and senior staff were not 100 percent sure of themselves.

Robert stood up a little straighter and put on his patented half smile, now that they were closer to the first test. "Good Evening folks. I take it you would like to see what we have to offer for sale, before it gets dark. Right now, we are short on most normal trade goods. Most of our high end and bulk items are still on our Mule, at the jump-point. We do have a couple of things laid out, that we think you all might like." He sounded like a used hover car salesman to his own ears.

When Robert nodded to the mid ranked enlisted man standing off to one side. Quickly he started opening one of the box's tops of a crate that held a large weapon. It took him only a couple of minutes to open all eight smaller sections, that had made up the top of the protective shipping crate. The newcomers looked down into the box to see a well-known 8ton weapon cradled in a wood blocked and metal container. When the last section top was flipped open the enlisted man quickly walked back to stand behind his boss.

Robert could tell that the ComStar personnel were not impressed with the weapon on display. The same could not be said of the other members in the group. One of whom looked like he had already hit a bottle of something cheap, very hard, already today. He looked like he was about to pee himself, after one look inside the gun shipping container. The only woman in the group seems to notice the look and whispered something into Mr. Drunk's ear. He turned pale and then a little redder in the face. Then he whispered into her ear in return.

She was a nice-looking woman, not as nice looking as Robert's now dead wife had been. She had died fighting the Cylons. Her Aero Fighter unit had been activated to fight, and she had been sent out to help defend the SLS York. She had stayed in the fight despite a growing list of damage to her craft, while raking up a huge number of kills. She stayed in the fight right, till her old Tomahawk fighter had been blown out of space by who knows what. They still did not know what happened that had ended her life. But the best guess, was that she had been rammed by a Heavy Raider. Or maybe it was something of a like mass that was moving very fast, during the fighting.

"Keep your mind on the job, Robert!" He said to himself. This one, the woman, is sharp. That was what his instincts had told him after only seeing her for a few seconds.

He turned to look at her. She must have felt his eye on her. Either that, or she had eyes in the back of her head, because she addressed him with a question without turning to look at him, after that one short gaze when she had walked up to the dropship. That gaze had made Robert fill like the Zug was lining up a shot at him.

"Excuse me, Captain. Could you give me some more information about this weapon?" She was referring to the weapon that was open, but there was something at the backend of the statement. Something that was just hinted at.

Robert tilted his head and stepped closer, so that he could also look into the holding crate. It was all part of the art in how to sale something. "Yes, Ma'am. This is a licensed copy of an Armstrong J 11. It is a Class 5 standard weapon. It has the Universal Feed Block modification already done, and it will handle most common ammunition types for that class of weapons. I don't know who the actual manufacture of this one was, or when any of the others were built."

"They? So, does that mean you have more than these?" The lady said as she gestured at the second crate next to the opened one, which was showing off the medium sized Battlemech scale cannon. She had been paying close attention to every word, and every movement of the man, out of the corner of her eye. She had to fight to keep her voice sweet and level. The two ways that she knew helped her to get her way, at least when dealing with members of the opposite sex.

Robert tried to hide a sly smile and fought to keep only the half smile on his face. "This woman was very sharp. If I did not watch myself, she could be trouble."

"Yes. We have five of them, that we can sale on our dropship today."

Robert knew, that if he said that he had ten of the old cannons for sale? Then the local market would become over saturated, and the overall price would be lower per weapon as soon as the words left his mouth. It was best to spread out this load of cargo, so they could get the best price per weapon. It also would draw less attention to them, with the announcement of the lower numbers of weapons for sale. If they were too big, someone might think it was worth the risk of attacking them.

"Well then, Mr. Copeland. Then it looks like we can do business. I would like one of my people to come out tomorrow, to inspect all five of them. We will be looking to buy only the ones our man says are good, and if we can settle on a price. Is that a problem?" It was not uncommon for ruined mech scale weapons to be sold as new or lightly used ones.

The woman cocked her head and looked sideways at the older man. She was trying to see if, there was more that she could use against him. She made a note, after a handful of seconds, she had put his name on the list of people not to play poker against. That was a short list, but one she paid attention to. She could tell that this man was hiding something, but she could not tell what it might be. Then again? Most people who traveled through this part of space had something hidden or things they wanted to hide.

Robert let the look roll off his back, like water on a duck. He had a feeling that the look was not a power play of some kind. It was just a hunch, but he had learned long ago to trust those hunches. "It would be better, if we could meet earlier in the day. We are going to be picking up some fresh food, to replenish our stocks. I was planning, and hoping, to use some of the proceeds from the sale of the weapons for those supplies."

This was a two-part play, that Robert was pushing. The Styx had left home with a full load of food, but it had not carried what most would call comfort food or drinks. In fact? They were carrying less consumables than what they had during the two shakedown missions. The cover story, was that the Styx had them out in the deep back, working on recovering the Scout. It would make sense that they might be short of those food type items at their first recordable port call. The second part was to let the leadership know that some of the money, they would be spending on the weapons. That it would be staying on the planet, after all. You tended to make friends that way, and it would keep the haggling at a more manageable level. Plus, any storable and unused comfort foods and drinks would bring a higher value back home, if they were any good. It was a win-win for the traveling circus that was calling itself Copeland Supply, Salvage, and Resale.

"If you have set your clocks to our local time? I will be here, with my people, to do a final inspection say around 0800." This was Duke Terry's planned reply. She delivered it with a smile, and without missing a beat. She did not even let on that she had heard the comment about buying local products.

"Ahh now for the game to start," thought Robert and he let a sly smile slowly cross his face.

The Trojan was a heavily armed dropship, for a cargo carrier. If the locals wanted to just steal the weapons, and brought some heavy firepower to do it? They would be in more trouble, than they could imagine. This was considered by most a lawless area of space, after all. That was why they had made the Trojan class ship and other classes of ships like her. Robert was thinking that this was moving along quite nicely, and he started looking for traps that might be about to snap at him.

"Hmmmmm. That will work for the time, but let's limit the congestion on the Port landing area. Let's say two sedans and two or so open sided flatbed trucks, to take your purchases home with. You won't need to bring a crane out. We have an old Power-Loader mech on board. We can use it, to help load your trucks for you. That will keep our manpower low, also. Now, as for as a means of payment? My partners and I are pretty open, but C-bills are always good."

Robert tipped his head toward the robed men behind Mr. Drunk. "You can also use a different form of payment. I think if we can get some undated metal prices from our ComStar friends. I do not know what precious metals you have on hand. That is, if it might be helpful to you."

At the mention of the word "ComStar" the ComStar representative turned in the direction of the voice. He looked like he had smelled something bad, but he did not say anything out loud. Robert kept talking to the group. "It looks like you're the only party that likes my cannons, so let's see what is in the smaller boxes!" Robert was back to putting on the show, and was trying not to let it show that the woman was starting to get to him.

On that queue. The nearest enlisted man opened the create lid, that encased one of the large desktop computers. A long power cord had been run out of the nearest cargo bay. It was there so that the computer could be powered up, for show or testing. Before the computer systems had left New Circe, all the software and data storage areas had been wiped clean of any information. When the power was applied to the computer. The stats of the hardware were the only information that showed on the screen in black and white letters.

Everyone slowly walked by the displayed computers one after the other. At first no one seemed that interested in the devices. But the last person was a ComStar Adept and that changed in the blink of an eye. He leaned over and started pressing some of the buttons, as he muttered a chant just low enough that you were not sure what he was saying. Then his eyes went wide, and two words had come out of his mouth loud and clear, and a few heads turned slightly towards him.

"Blake's Blood!" When the young man was done. He walked very fast towards the older ComStar person and whispered into the other man's ear. Every eye in the small group watched the young man fast walk towards his boss. The boss had been standing only a few steps behind Mr. Drunk and not anywhere close to where Captain Copeland was standing.

"Well looks like I have a buyer on the hook, now to move those bricks," thought Robert. He added on his mental list to bring more of those old computers out on the next supply run, if this mission was successful. Before he could do more, than have that thought. The older ComStar man was walking, well call it a quick pace, towards him. As soon as the robed man was within a dozen steps, he started talking at a volume level that was only just below a shout.

"Captain! Where did you get these old computer systems?" Asked the older ComStar man, who was speaking a lot louder than he should have been.

"Adept?" That was as far as Robert got. Before he was interrupted by the man and his hand flew up in the stop sign, which was as old as mankind.

"It is Demi-Precentor, please." He had an "I'm insulted, that you don't know who I am" look over his tightlipped face.

Robert gave a slight head bow, as an apology, to the white robe wearing man. "Sorry Demi-Precentor. You are not wearing a rank pin. As I was about to say. We picked them up in the wrecked Scout ship's cargo bay. About the only things that were salvageable, in her cargo hold, were the cannons and these few computer systems you see on the tables." This was a lie, which he had practiced as soon as he had read the note in his orders.

The ComStar man was biting his lower lip and waving a hand in the air over his head. He was being very dramatic looking, and it drew more attention to both him and the computers. "How many do you have?"

Robert was already, not liking this guy. He did not like ComStar as a rule, after the reports from the first supply run. Then there were the stories that had come from the slaves they had liberated before this clan moved around the Inner Sphere. All of those stories were required reading in high school. However, Robert had to put on a façade, so that he could do the required mission.

"I can sell six of them."

This was Robert's reply. He went from a half smile to a tight-lipped expression that he had let come to his face. "I bet this guy is a joy to work for." Robert felt an itch at the small of his back, just were his holdout pistol holster was setting. Something was wrong with this man. Robert could feel it deep in his soul.

"That is not what I asked. I asked. HOW…. Many…. Do…. You…. Have?" The ComStar man was getting pushy and angry at the same time. He had said each of the last five words space out by almost a second and a half between each of the words.

"How dare this person have these systems? I have only seen systems this powerful, on Holy Terra. I must have them all! Before one of those animals from the Houses, found them. They were already recovering too much of Blessed Blakes technology because of information from that Blake Damned Helms core!"

"As I said before, Demi-Precentor. I have six of the systems for sale. I was advised to ask 5,000 C-bills for each of them, by my partners." Robert was keeping his eyes locked on the ComStar Demi-Precentor. He was hoping to find a way to make the other man blink or otherwise spike the deal. It was early in the mission. So, if he spiked this deal? He was sure that he could make it up later.

"Done! I will take all of them!" The Precentor looked back at his vehicle and did a quick guess on the cargo cubage and the number of people it had brought out. He quickly had come up short of the cubage he needed. He was a jerk, but he was not dumb, and his math skills were top level. "If Duke Terry is coming at 0800 tomorrow, to look at the cannons? May we conclude our exchange then?"

Robert smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. "Damn! I should have started at 10,000. O' well, 5,000 is a lot better than the 1,000 C-bills. That was what we had expected to get out of each of them, and that had been a best-case number. I had asked for 5,000 each just to Frak with him. I should be careful when I open my fraking mouth."

"Done deal! They are yours on payment in cash, please."

Robert held out his hand, but the ComStar man kept his hands inside the sleeves of his robe, like Robert was contaminated or otherwise unclean. Robert just smiled and dropped his hand after a few long seconds. The Demi was being rude, and both parties knew it. One did not care, and the other party was working how best to get even with the first party.

Robert looked around to the rest of the visitors/shoppers. "If this is all the business? Then I will see you all in the morning." Robert could tell that the ComStar man had just put a major chill on the whole afternoon.

Robert looked at the woman and raised and cocked an eyebrow as the ComStar people walked away very quickly. "Ma'am, sorry, or was I referring to you with the wrong title also? I did not mean to offend you. We kind of jumped right past the intros." The more time that past. The more he was getting mad about the rude ComStar Fraker. One part of his mind was wondering if he should ask if dueling was legal here or not.

The woman he was talking to let another sly smile cross her face. She knew beforehand, that ComStar would have been her competition in any trade deals with this group. She had watched the interaction between the pair of men, with some inner glee. It looked like ComStar had just made the visitors mad and moved themselves off the playing board for the near future. Something like that should make it easier to get around their deep pockets.

"Don't worry, Captain. I'm not as set on using the proper titles, as some others around here. Now, I understand that you need a ride to send a message back home? If you don't mind sharing a ride with me? It's right on my way. And after you're done? Maybe we can sit down to dinner and maybe get to know each other a little better. I checked our records on your burn in, and we have never had the pleasure of your company on this planet. And besides, I know this place that has great food."

"Oh Frak! This could get ugly," thought Robert. He had to fight to keep his face from moving a millimeter in any way.

The rule number fourteen on this type of mission, was that no one went anywhere alone. It was a rule that must not be broken. His XO or any of the other ship's captains could and would shoot him, if he did something like that. And they would be covered by SLDF Law after they had shot him. It had happened before, and odds were that it would happen again. It might even happen on this shorter mission, and Robert would be the one to give the execution orders for someone in this little convoy. He had not thought about this event, until just now.

"I would love to. But you see Emma?" Robert pointed to an upper 20ish looking woman only a few paces away. "She needs to contact the other partners, of this little operation. She is the daughter and granddaughter to two of my main partners. Besides, I have a rule. It is not to let any of my crewmembers alone, on a new planet. If I don't follow my own rules? Then what kind of commander, would I be?" Robert was keeping his tone light and jokingly, but he was very serious.

The Duke looked at the man even closer and did some more thinking, before speaking again. She started mentally recounting all the stories about dropships crews being kidnapped for ransom. She gave up after hitting more than twenty of the stories, that came off the top of her head. She had not had to think that hard to remember them. That was how common something like that happened in this part of space.

"Good rule, and there is plenty of room. Plus, one more person at dinner? That just makes it easier for conversation to work." Duke Terry was turning up the charm. And the bad part? It was that she was not even trying.

She had on her own sly smile. "This man was no one's fool, and he is not bad looking to boot. This could be one of the more interesting evenings, which I have had in a few years."

Robert agreed to the offer, but he had to leave the group soon after this agreement. He needed to pass along to some key members, that there was another change of plans. He quickly exited the grounded dropship again and walked with the group. He joined the locals and "Emma", to one of the sedans. The sedan had more than enough room for Duke Terry, Mr. Drunk, Robert, and "Emma" to all be comfortable in the back. There even was a dedicated driver.

The roads were not that bad, from the Space Port to the HPG compound. They hardly hit a pothole on the whole drive. Robert made note of the 70ton Magi tank, that looked to be supporting the front Gate Guard stationed at the HPG compound. Up until right them, the ride had been in silence. Now it was broken.

"Now that is an odd-looking tank. What kind is it? Who do they work for?" The youngest woman in the wheeled sedan was pointing to the massive tracked metal box by the gate.

"Damn she was smart," thought Robert. But he did not let his face move a single millimeter when she asked her question.

Duke Terry gave an odd look to the trader Captain. "They are called the Com Guards, a military wing of ComStar. They have, what they call, a Level II. It is what I would call a Demi-Company of tanks and mechs as a defense force for the HPG and the ComStar compound. It is supposed to be, in case we are attacked. The Wacko's seem to have found a few huge warehouses full of old SLDF equipment some unknown time ago. Then they went and armed themselves up a few years ago with it. I had heard about it five or six years ago, but frankly. I personally did not believe it. That is until they showed up here, two years ago with mechs, tanks and infantry." She waved to the fortified compound, and she continued talking.

"First, they unloaded two mech, two tanks and some infantry to guard the HPG and the people that are running the thing. They did bring a couple of good things with them, so it has not been all bad. I was surprised that they were able to rebuild that hulk of a building so fast. Now with more mouths to feed? They spend their money freely in town. If anyone attacks us? Just by being here, they have tripled our firepower on the ground. I managed to sign an agreement with them, about a month after they landed, to start the rebuilding. That if we are attacked? They will help out, besides just in the defense of the HPG compound."

Terry was looking out the side window of the slowing car, now. "The downside is that they get to keep anyone that they captured, and they have first pick on any of the salvage that might be left behind on the whole planet. So far? We have not had to worry about any attacks, at least once the word got out. Let me tell you, word gets out quickly, that the Com Guards are on the ground on a certain planet. We thought you might have been the first group to try them, when we thought a loaded Star Lord and another jumpship had come to visit all at once. That is a lot of lift to be seen out this way." She did not say or bring up about the additional jumpships stopping by. Those had mainly belonged to the only human faster than light communication company known to exist. But not all of them had belong to ComStar, and that kind of information was power.

The Duke, Emma, and Robert waited in the main waiting area of the HPG compound, until Emma was called back to send her messages. Mr. Drunk had exited the sedan and walked out of the ComStar compound to the bar district for a few more drinks. He had a huge smile on his face, when he announced his intention of leaving the group. Robert doubted that he would be rejoining the group for the rest of the night.

"Emma" sent four different messages, to four different locations, all around the Inner Sphere in the short time she was gone. Most of the messages were cover for the third one she sent. That was the only one that had counted, and it was going to the Duniashire system. It was only about 21 light years away. The other three messages were going to random common names that had been pulled from an address book collected on the last supply run.

When the messages were sent out from the planet? The HPG unit buried deep in the Styx would pick up the whole group of messages being sent out. The operators were able to use a copy of the original messages to do some magic on the captured data packet. This captured data also gave them very detailed information on how ComStar operated their systems. This was the closest that a late military grade Star League HPG system had been to Terra since the 2800s.

They will be able to break the ComStar coding, by knowing the key information in those four specially selected and very different messages. They were the first people to be able to do so, in centuries. This "broken" information will help them decode any future ComStar messages, later in the mission. As a bonus? They picked up the latest and "original" copy, of the price list of almost any metal sold on the open market Sphere wide. This last item was sent via encrypted radio transmission down to the White Rabbit, and it was deeply encoded. It was to check to see if ComStar might play games with them on the prices. After the one message was sent down to the one dropship. The dropship's crews had the rest of the late afternoon to be more socialized while they were on the ground.

The dinner was just as good, as Terry had said it would be. A fourth person had joined them for dinner. He was a little older than the Duke, in looks, and it was not Mr. Drunk. Robert took this to mean that they were very close in age. He was very rich by local standards, but he was not a military man. Emma was able to pump him for information, and quickly found out the bad news. Nothing that was on the "shopping list" was going to be available in the city under short notice, if at all even then. Or it would not even be on the planet. That was not surprising, to Robert. "Emma" was more distress and she took some time to understand one of the facts of life. She had gotten to use to New Circe and its very high tech and military orientation.

This was a backwoods planet and it was in a very low-tech area, but it was a mental letdown. They only reason they had stopped here was to use the HPG, to get a message out to one of the Families. Everything else? That was just extra, like testing their cover story. The icing on the cake, if you would like? That was to do things that were a little upsetting to ComStar. Blake would have rolled over in his grave. If he knew what had happened to the organization, which he had formed all those years ago. "Emma" and Robert did not make it back to the White Rabbit, till late that night. They did have a good time, and it seem like there host did also.