Angelina Dropship
Zenith Jump point
Maynard system
Federated Commonwealth
19 December 3059
20:33:00 ship time
The female mech warriors and techs sat gathered in the dropship lounge, laughing and chatting about anything and everything. Coffee, pastries and sweets adorned the various tables around the lounge.
Gina and Tiphanie sat with Cassie and Fae, the three who knew each other from Dusty's had quickly accepted Tiphanie into their little group. Huddled together, whispering occasionally, but generally just trying hard to fit in with the older women.
Amy, Val and Kat, the oldest of the group, sat at a table relaxing with their coffees.
Jennifer and Michelle sat on a low couch along the back wall of the room, gorging on coffee and sweets after weeks of hard training.
"So Kat," Jennifer began, "how did you get your callsign?"
"Kathy Walker, Kat Walker, catwalk, runway. That took about 30 seconds on my first day in basic," Kat replied matter-of-factly. "Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if the recruitment officer entered it into my file when I signed up just to speed up the process."
The assembled ladies all chuckled, nodding in agreement.
The door to the lounge slid open, and 2 women wearing new SLDF-style aerospace casuals strolled in, then stopped short. Looking around at the assembled group, one said, "Oh, sorry, is this a private meeting?"
"Not at all, come, join us!" Michelle replied.
"Thanks," said the second woman, "I'm Evelyn, and this is Mia," she added, indicating her friend as they went straight for the coffee.
"I'm Michelle," Michelle began.
"Ma'am! Sorry Ma'am!" both newcomers snapped in unison, coming to attention.
Michelle blinked, taken aback for a second. "At ease," she said, "relax, we're not on duty." Thinking she might never get used to this officer thing. Chris had held a full Company meeting once they were out of orbit and made Michelle's rank permanent, naming her XO of the unit. "you must be with the Angelina crew," she added.
"No, Ma'am, Evelyn and I pilot the aerospace fighters," Mia replied, clearly having trouble relaxing with a senior officer present.
"Aerospace fighters?" Michelle asked. She wasn't even aware there were any fighters onboard.
"Yes, Ma'am, we were cashiered out of our mercenary unit on Mica VII a year ago when the unit disbanded. We didn't have much luck finding another ticket until Captain Pritchard approached us a couple of weeks ago. Said, adding some fighters would improve the Angelina's status with the government contract to carry you off world."
"Well, I'll have to learn more about you. Let's start with you joining us for a chat." Michelle finished, gesturing to an empty bench to the left of the couch she was sharing with Jennifer.
The newcomers grabbed some coffee and pastries and took a seat. The group went around introducing themselves.
In the lull that followed, "What's a Roadrunner?" Amy asked Gina out of the blue. Dancer had painted a cartoon creature and name on her Mech.
"It's a character from an ancient 2D animation; I believe they were called cartoons, dating from sometime in the late 20th century," Gina replied, "I love that time period. Did you know they drew the characters by hand, frame by frame?"
"Ahh, ok, but what does it do?" Amy followed up.
"Well, in the story, the roadrunner just runs ridiculously fast and outwits a coyote who's trying to catch and eat it," Gina said as if it made all the sense in the world.
"So, basically, it's any woman in a bar since the dawn of time," Val interjected.
The group paused a moment, looking at each other, then roared with laughter.
"So, Cassie," Val began, as the laughter died away, "I have to know, how do you and your grandfather get the smells out of the cockpit?"
Cassie blinked, startled at becoming the focus of the conversation. At 16, Cassie was, by far, the youngest person in the room, and the Unit.
"What do you mean," asked Tiphanie.
"Have you guys never looked in Jennifer's mech? The damned thing looks and smells like it just rolled off the production line. I've never seen anything like it." Val said, impressed, "So out with it, kid, how're doing it?"
"It's simple, really," Cassie began quietly, "we remove the command chair, neuro helmet and hand controls. Then, remove the deck plating and clean the plating with 7-G standard cleaner, top and bottom. Reinstall the plating, then clean all the controls and surfaces with 13b and 7-G cleaners. Remove and replace the wrapping on the hand controls. Then replace the padding in the chair and helmet. Finally, we reupholster both and reinstall." She said to dumfounded faces, then added almost excitedly, "Grandfather is teaching me how to do the embroidery and leather branding myself!"
Jennifer's mind reeled, contemplating just how much work the Figueroas put into her Mech without her ever knowing.
Val sat there, mouth half-open for a minute, then looked at Michelle and said deadpan, "Lieutenant, you're just going to have to get used to the smell."
Michelle looked to Val, processing for a moment; then, the group roared to laughter again.
Michelle looked over her shoulder behind the couch. She could have sworn she heard a giggling from the vent a second ago.
The lounge door slid open for a second time, and Captain John Pritchard strode in casually, carrying a coffee mug in his right hand. Gone was his military jacket. Over his green army t-shirt, was a short-sleeved, loose-fitting, open-collar shirt originally worn on the Terra island of Hawaii, this one printed in a colourful, bold beach design. John froze, mid-step, and looked at the gathered women, who had all stopped their discussion and were looking at him silently.
"Hello, Captain," Michelle chimed, "care to join us?"
"Ahh, no, that's fine," John said, backing slowly out of the room. "I'm good, you ladies carry on!"
John backed up until he was back out in the hallway, and the door slid shut. A non-distinct comment in a female voice was just auditable through the door, then the suppressed sound of giggling. John breathed a heavy sigh of relief, his hand braced for a moment against the doorframe.
John looked left at a noise, seeing Chris strolling toward the lounge.
"Major," he began turning and placing a hand on Chris' shoulder, "I'm going to save your life. I assume you want coffee?"
Chris nodded, confused.
"Ok, I've got the keys to the kitchen, let's go this way," he said, turning him back the way he had come, "You do NOT want to go in there!" he finished.
Halfway down the hall, a mid-shipman walked past the two, nodding to the officers.
"There's a code Orange in the Lounge, son," John told the passing crewman.
The crewman took another half step; then, his eyes went wide. "Right," he said, spinning on his heel, "Mind if I join you, Captain?"
"Sure, come on," John replied.
Chris looked at the Captain with utter confusion on his face.
John responded to the unasked question, "When the women folk get to gatherin', smart men get the hell out the way." Chris nodded, finally understanding, and the 3 headed to the kitchen to wait out whatever storm may brew in the lounge.
Back in the lounge, the women continued their social gathering.
"So, Jennifer," Michelle began, "how's the samurai training with Eugenio going?" Jennifer had started training with Eugenio and Cassie back on Mica V. Eugenio had seemed ecstatic when Jennifer approached him about joining. Since then, Tiphanie, Amy and Gina had all started participating. Between officer training and Chris' special forces instructions, Michelle just didn't have the time to participate.
"I think I'm getting it," Jennifer said casually, "I really like the swordplay!"
Cassie blinked and cleared her throat like she had something to add.
"What is it, Cassie?" Jennifer asked. "Am I getting ahead of myself?"
"Oh, NO! Onna-musha!" Cassie exclaimed, eyes misting like she'd made a mistake, "Grandfather said he has never seen anyone born to the Samurai Way like you, Jennifer Sama!"
She stopped short and put her head down like she was avoiding saying something.
"Oh, come on now," Jennifer said, "what else? Spit it out. We're not going to bite."
"He said he believes you are the spirit of kudari ryu, saisei." She said sheepishly.
Again, Michelle thought she heard a small gasp from the vent behind them.
"Ahh, ok, what?" Jennifer said, looking to the others to see if anyone knew what that meant. Everyone else looked around blankly.
"The descending dragon, reborn," Cassie translated. "He believes it was fate that directed Musashi san to leave us on Mica V, that you may find us and we could help you on your quest."
"What quest?" Michelle interjected, not knowing where this was going but loving the Kuritan lore baked into the story.
"Only time will reveal her destiny, but Grandfather believes our family has the honour to be a part of her journey," Cassie finished, blushing, not knowing how the older women would respond to her story.
"Well, judging by what I've seen when Jennifer's in her Mech, I'd say descending dragon is a pretty good description," Amy chimed in. The group chuckled, and Cassie relaxed a little, feeling more accepted.
The conversations went on into the night. Well past midnight, the group broke up and headed out the door.
"Leave the treats out," Michelle said, "I'll take care of them in a couple of hours after I get some paperwork done." Michelle hovered until the others had left and switched off the lights.
20 minutes later…
In the dark lounge, a small scraping sound came from the vent. Outside the "windows," stars twinkled, but not enough to illuminate the room. Silently, a small shadow emerged from the wall and drifted through the lounge to crouch by a table of treats.
Suddenly, the room lit up. Michelle stood, arms crossed as the shadow resolved into a teen girl, face covered in powdered sugar, and small cakes in each hand, frozen in place. The girl turned to bolt toward the open vent.
"Whoa," Michelle said, "easy! I'm not going to hurt you." The girl stopped moving, looking at Michelle wide-eyed. "The game is up; let's sit; you can have some food, and you tell me who you are and what you're doing here."
Angelina Dropship
Zenith Jump point
Maynard system
Federated Commonwealth
20 December 3059
03:16:00 ship time
Michelle sat waiting with the young stowaway for John and Chris. She'd called them after she made the young girl comfortable and got her to open up with some of her story. 10 minutes after her call, John and Chris arrived together.
"Major, Captain, this is Kiara Oliver." Michelle began, "And Kiara, this is Captain of the Angelina, John Pritchard, and head of the Mica Company, Captain Chris Aalron, but while we are aboard ship, he's Major Aaron. Kiara here has been an unplanned guest."
"A stowaway, eh?" John said, smirking. "So, where do you come from?"
Kiara looked at Michelle uncertainly.
"Don't worry, Kiara," Michelle said with a comforting hand on her shoulder, "just tell them what you told me."
With trepidation, Kiara began, "I'm from Mica V. Well, I'm from Waldheim, but my family moved to Mica V when I was 9."
"So, how old are you?" John asked.
"14," she replied.
"Ok, so you're originally from the Combine, but you live on Mica V," Chris summed up, "So how did you end up with us, and where are your parents so we can contact them?"
"My parents died 3 years ago." The girl answered, looking down at her feet.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Chris replied, feeling a new sympathy for the girl, "So, who do you live with?"
"No one." She replied, her voice cracking a little, "My foster family kicked me out a year ago after a cop brought me and their daughter home for shoplifting. I told them it was her, not me, but they didn't care. I've been living wherever since."
"That's terrible!" John said, looking to Michelle and Chris, then back to the girl, "And no one from the social services came looking for you?"
"Not that I know of," she replied, "hiding is easy on Mica V with all the warehouses and big plants. But, eating is hard. I was living in the empty warehouse you moved into," She said to Michelle and Chris, "and then you came and brought lots of food!"
"How did we not see you?" Michelle asked incredulously.
"You always left, every morning, every evening. Sometimes all day." She answered matter-of-factly.
"But what about the techs?" Chris thought and said, mind racing at all the implications of a child living amongst them for over a month without anyone knowing.
"Most left while you were away, except the papa and girl, but they worked mostly at night. None of them lived at the warehouse." Kiara explained.
"Ok, so how did you get from our warehouse to this ship?" Chris asked.
"It wasn't hard. I took some clothes from the crates in your warehouse; you had lots!" She added imploringly as an afterthought to Michelle.
"That's ok," Chris reassured her, "we can live with that." Noticing for the first time that she was wearing their units t-shirt, combat pants and boots. All a little too big.
Relaxing a little, she continued, "So, I saw what parts of the uniforms go with what. And like 4 in the morning, the night before the parade, no one was in the warehouse, so I put on the formal stuff and walked to the spaceport. I figured wherever you were going was better than staying and going hungry again."
Michelle's eyes filled up; still listening to this girl's story, she considered just how hard this girl had it on their home world. The place she, herself felt safe after her own terrible experience on Astrokaszy last year.
"With all the crates, trucks, and people going to the ship, they almost didn't notice me, but the one guard who did see me just saluted. I saw you all do it, so I did it back. And that was it. I walked into the ship, accidentally wandered into this lunch room, and found a place to hide in that vent." She finished, pointing at her escape vent.
Chris and Michelle looked at each other, thinking.
"Welp, the only thing left for us to do is shove her out the airlock," John said with a smirk.
Everyone jumped and stared at John in alarm.
"WOW! Ok, tough room!" He said to the blank startled faces. "You people need to relax! We can sort all this out tomorrow." He finished smiling.
"Come on, young lady, let's get you something to eat and find you a place to bunk." He added, gesturing to the young stowaway and half-turning.
"She can stay with me," said a quiet voice behind him.
"BLAKES BALLS!" John exclaimed, grabbing at his heart with his left hand. "Where the hell did you come from?"
"My room," Cassie replied simply.
"You must be Kuritan!" He said, then turning to the group still in the lounge, "I swear there is no DEST; they just gather up the kids who are particularly good with knives and give 'em uniforms! 'Cause the whole damned nation seems to be able to appear outta nowhere when you least expect 'em!"
Michelle looked at Chris and laughed. Kiara couldn't suppress a giggle. Cassie just looked confused.
"Fine, the stowaway bunks with the Ninja," John said finally, "let's head to the kitchen, kids, and I'll get you something proper to eat, then you can get some rest."
Angelina Dropship
Vernan Spaceport
Asgard
SLDF Liberated Zone
21 January 3060
08:24:00 local time
The Union Class dropship Angelina descended to landing zone 34 on the outer perimeter of the Ragnar Lodbrok Spaceport, just outside Vernan, the capital of Asgard, on an elongated column of flame. The massive ship touched down gently onto its extended landing gear, finally settling onto the landing site.
"Major, we're down; we'll have the passenger ramp down in 15 minutes and the rest in 30," John said into the comm embedded into his command chair on the Angelina bridge.
"Roger Bridge," Chris replied into his communicator. "Ok," he said, looking at Michelle and Jennifer, "so we're going to have to meet with the Port Authority Rep, then the SLDF contract lead. Brace yourselves, contract leads for major houses can be openly hostile to mercenaries, and this is the SLDF! They could be anyone from anywhere! And! Our ship and unit are painted in SLDF colours, which may… complicate the discussions. Your job is to stand there as witnesses; don't speak if you don't have to; if you do, just follow my lead."
"Got it," Michelle said.
"Yessir," Jennifer added.
Behind them, the senior techs were gathered, waiting to go to the spaceport and meet with the cargo movers they'd hired on the way in-system to get all the unit's supplies from the Angelina to their contract base. Their destination was a small garrison base 10 hours march from Vernan, located just outside Bo's Helm, a central hub town for the rural farms in that area.
Finally, after 2 months in transit, the group heard the passenger boarding ramp whir to life, extending to the ground. A moment later, the green light above the door glowed, and Chris reached out and hit the button to open the door. The port passenger doors opened with a snap-hiss and then slid apart at the mid-seam. The cool crisp air of Asgard's southern continent rushed in, venting the stale Dropship air rushing the other way.
Chris took a deep breath, always marvelling at just how refreshing the smell of a new world seemed to be. "Ok folks, let's get through the Port Authority, then we'll meet with the SLDF contact, and then you folks," he said, turning to the techs, "will be good to go get us some transport."
The Techs nodded in agreement, then followed the Mech warriors down the ramp.
"Hmm, I wonder where the Port Rep is?" Chris said at the bottom of the ramp, surveying the landing zone.
"Oh," Michelle interjected, "I forgot to tell you, I got a reply message from Director Timberman! I sent the message about Kiara to Uncle Thorfinn, but I guess he had Director Timberman look into it."
Turning to Michelle, "Oh, what did Clyff make of it?" Chris asked, curious.
"Well, apparently, the foster family never reported her missing. They've been collecting foster payments for the past 3 years and just covering up her absence! He said he's turned it over to Director Aplin, who's already looking into laying charges." Michelle said with more than a little anger in her voice.
"Bastards!" Jennifer chimed.
"No kidding!" Chris started, "So what does he say we should do with her? It's a long way back to the Majority."
"He said it was your call. They'd pay for the transit if we decide to send her back." Michelle answered.
"Hmm, what do you think?" Chris asked.
Michelle thought for a moment, "There's nothing back there for her but more foster care and likely more trouble. I think we should let her stay. Cassie likes her; she's not that much younger than Cassie, really. But maybe she should stay on the ship to keep her safe."
"I could care for her," a strong but aged voice came from behind them.
The three warriors jumped, there, right behind them, was Eugenio. They knew he was with the other senior techs, but his ability to simply materialize in close proximity was always disconcerting.
John might be on to something, thought Chris. "You sure, Eugenio?" Chris said once his nerves settled.
"It would be no bother, and as you've said, my granddaughter seems to enjoy having a younger person around." He said softly.
"Fair enough. Michelle, once we're done here, send a message back to Clyff that we're going to let her stay and explain the details," Chris said, feeling warm that they would be able to help the teen, who had already experienced so much loss.
The chug of a loud gas-powered motorcycle echoed across the tarmac, catching their attention as someone in a port uniform thundered toward the grounded Dropship.
"Ooh! That's a v-twin!" Jennifer exclaimed excitedly, "My uncle and cousins have some. I love those! I wonder if it's a Free Worlds Indian!"
Chris and Michelle just looked at Jennifer for a moment. "I didn't know you liked motorbikes," Michelle said as Chris turned back to the incoming bike.
"Always! Especially v-twin baggers!" She replied.
"Ok, eyes forward," Chris muttered, "Here we go."
The man from the Port Authority rolled up a little too close, kicked his stand down, and slid off his bike, killing the engine in one smooth motion.
"Morning," he began without preamble. "You in charge?" he asked to Chris.
"Yessir, Captain Chris Aalron," Chris replied, trying to keep the conversation casual.
"Hi, I'm Greg from the Ragnar Lodbrok Port Authority." He said, approaching, "Ok, let's have a look," said Greg, taking out a note tablet from his motorbike saddle bag. "Looks like a merc unit," he said, skimming the file, then stopped and sized up the Dropship, eyes scanning the hull, over the gathered Privateers, then finally into the now opening Mech Bay. "OOh," he said, clearly coming to some conclusion, "SLDF are you?"
Chris just smiled silently and thought hard, never settling on a good explanation for their paint scheme and uniforms.
"And special forces, judging by those bars," he said, pointing to Chris' satin black Captain's bars at his neck. "You boys always have the nicest ships! Welp, I guess this is a tissue of lies," he said, waving the note tablet. "Go ahead and inital at the bottom, Captain, or whoever you are."
Chris took the tablet and initialled, nodding; just go with it, he thought, whatever gets us through this the fastest.
Michelle and Jennifer just stood at attention to either side of Chris, trying to act official.
"Are the SLDF Reps coming?" Chris asked Greg.
Greg looked around toward the warehouse section of the Spaceport, "Oh, they'll be along; those two are always running late."
Two? Thought Chris. Oh good. Smiling, he handed back the tablet, "There you go."
"Ok," Greg said, switching off the note tablet without bothering to check, "Well, Welcome to Asgard! I hope whyever you are here works out, Captain!" He finished with a salute, which Chris returned. Turning, he stowed the tablet back in his saddlebag, slid back onto his bike and roared off in the direction of another Dropship that looked to be loading for departure.
"Well, that went about as well as we could hope," Chris said as Greg rode away.
"Won't we get in trouble?" Michelle asked with worry on her face.
"Naw," Chris answered, "if the Port Authority thinks were SLDF special forces, they'll just ignore anything we do. When it comes to Port Authorities, that's pretty much the best scenario anyone hopes for!"
"Look!" Jennifer said, pointing toward the warehouses, "Is that them coming?"
A Hovercar slid around a large building and sped toward them; two occupants could be seen behind the window of the open-top vehicle.
"Probably, ok, this won't be as easy. Just take my lead." Chris reiterated.
"Captain?" The woman said as the two occupants got out of the hovercar and approached in lock-step. The bars on her collar marked her as an SLDF first lieutenant.
"Yes," Chris replied.
"I'm First Lieutenant Emily Cordair of the SLDF, and this is my counterpart, Chu-i Haruto Tanaka." She said.
OH, Dammit! Damned the Star League and the evil SOB who paired officers from the Federated Suns and the Draconis Combine to handle contracts, Chris thought wryly, desperately trying not to roll his eyes and keep a straight face.
"Greetings Lieutenant, I'm Captain Chris Aalron of the Barrett's Privateers, Mica Company. This is," he was saying when the Chu-i cut him off.
"Why is your ship and unit painted as if from the SLDF!" He exclaimed, face contorted in anger and in a severe tone.
Ahh, crap, here we go, Chris thought, marshalling his strength, "Well, Chu-i Tanaka, that's a long story." He began. Chris felt more than heard a slight shuffling behind him and saw the Chu-i's eyes go wide with recognition.
"Figueroa Sama?!" Chu-i Tanaka exclaimed in genuine surprise, cutting Chris off again.
"Ahh, yes, this is one of our senior Techs.." Chris began, turning to see the elder Figueroa had somehow moved just behind Jennifer, clearly visible to the Chu-i.
"Figueroa Sama needs no introduction, Captain!" Chu-i Tanaka said, cutting him off again.
At least he used Captain this time; better let this play out, Chris thought, stepping back to allow the two to talk.
"Does that mean one of the Musashi Kuran are among you?" Tanaka asked Eugenio sounding eager.
"No," was the only English word Eugenio used; switching to Japanese, he explained the story.
Michelle and Jennifer watched the two talk, with no idea what was being said. However, 2 minutes in, Michelle swore she heard the term Kudari Ryu just before Eugenio nodded toward Jennifer, and another term, Nobori Ryu, seeming to indicate Michelle.
Chu-i Tanaka's eyes went wide, an expression that almost looked like awe painted on his face.
"My sincere apologies!" Tanaka said, taking a deep bow to Chris, Michelle and Jennifer. "I beg your forgiveness!"
Chris had no idea what to make of this. Michelle was equally mystified. Eugenio silently slid up to Jennifer and whispered something in her ear.
"Subete ga yurusareru," Jennifer repeated, and the Chu-i stood saying something no one but Eugenio understood.
Lieutenant Cordair, who had been silently watching all this unfold with a look of amusement, said into the silence that followed, "Ok, if that's all good?" looking to her counterpart. He nodded.
"Well, whatever the reason, the SLDF colours and uniforms will probably make things easier out where you're going." She said to Chris.
"Oh, trouble at the garrison?" Chris replied, now fully focused on the Lieutenant from the Federated Suns.
"The mercs out there had some trouble when a couple of their Mech Jocks in got into it with some local farmers at the pub. These Asgardians can really hold a grudge! Anyway, having a unit that looks like SLDF will probably get them to calm down. As long as your people don't have the same troubles!" She said, eyeing Chris.
"No, Ma'am, my people will behave themselves!" Chris said earnestly.
"Ok, your paperwork is in order unless you have something, Chu-i?" she said, giving a side-eye to her counterpart.
"No, all good," he said in awkward-sounding English, still staring at Jennifer and Michelle with an odd expression.
"Ok, so you know, there were some rumours of leftover Jaguars hiding out that way. We've done a couple of sweeps but found nothing." She said to Chris.
"We'll keep our eyes open," Chris said, hoping those were just rural rumours.
"Ok, then I hope you have a nice quiet garrison duty, Captain!" She said, strolling toward the hovercar, her counterpart sideling behind her.
Valhalla Steakhouse
Vernan
Asgard
SLDF Liberated Zone
21 January 3060
18:27:00 local time
In the back corner of the dimly lit pub, at a table close to the bar, but secluded enough that its occupant kept to the shadows, a man sits reading a news flimsy. The scent of warm ginseng wafting from a teacup on the table. The man shifts, impatient for his daily "report", acutely aware of his surroundings despite appearing for all the world like a quiet visiting businessman without a care in the world.
The Vahalla Steakhouse offers some unique idiosyncrasies that simply couldn't be found anywhere else on Asgard. Oh, the food was ok, in a pedestrian kind of way. And they did make a passable ginseng tea. But, no, the qualities that made this place special were more about the people.
Big Tom, the bartender, whose voice seemed to carry even when the place was full, and simply could not help talking, to everyone, especially regulars, was one of those unique elements. He was also particularly susceptible to subtle manipulation, the kinds of word games some magicians use to create the illusion that a person is asking for something or thinking about something, when really they've been preconditioned through conversation.
The sound of a low rumbling outside was another. The sound grew to a crescendo, then abruptly stopped. 30 seconds later Greg Samson, a completely forgettable member of the Ragnar Lodbroke Spaceport Authority, burst through the door wearing his leather motorcycle jacket over his uniform shirt. Greg loves a beer and roast beef sandwich on French bread with au jus dip. Every day. And every day he enters the Valhalla Steakhouse in the same robust manner.
"Hey Tommy!" Greg exclaimed, "Let's try something different today. I'll have… the usual!"
Tom and Greg share a laugh at the same joke. Everyday. For 3 weeks now, the man had sat in the corner every day this time, and every day this time, the two locals had played out the same schtick, and every day they laughed like it was their first time.
The man considered killing Tom and Greg simply to put them out of their misery. But then, he'd miss his daily "report".
"Hey Greg! Already got it on for ya! How's the day treating you?" Tom asks… again.
"Oh Tommy! Another crazy day! Ships leaving, without registering their shipments. Dropship crew trying to sneak contraband into Asgard. And this one guy tried to convince me the exotic snake he was smuggling was his emotional support snake!" Both men roared at the supposed falsehood.
"I heard we were getting new Mercs today," Tom asked when the laughter died down and handing Greg his beer.
"Yeah, that's what it said on the docket. Turns out it was an SLDF special forces ruse." Greg replied, eyeing his food that just appeared on the kitchen passthrough.
"Oh yeah?" Tom replied handing Greg his food, "So there wasn't a Battlemaster in the unit? I heard one was coming and I'd love to see one up close."
"Nope," Greg said, mouth full and dripping with au jus.
"Damn, I was hoping to see one up close. Well, better off without more mercs I suppose!" responded Tom.
The man let the rest of the nauseating conversation drift into the background noise, mildly irritated, and considering his next step. If the SLDF was using the Barrett's Privateers as cover, then where did the actual unit go?
He hoped he didn't have to traipse halfway across human space to track them down.
Time to check more… reliable sources. He thought, some victims are just so inconsiderate!