Chapter 16: Communication and Fake IDs

  Riordan checked on the ladies one last time. They were both asleep on their couches, snuggled into blankets and sleeping sacks. He put the final touches on an old communicator and snuck from the casino floor. He didn't need a lantern to see where he was going. Once he felt he was far enough away to not be overheard, he tapped a sequence of numbers into the keypad. He held it up to his ear, listening to the tones and clicks as it connected across the Galaxy through several dozen layers of encryption and redirection. Dozens of light-years away, a device admitted a small vibration. It was retrieved from a hiding spot and answered.

  "Identify yourself," a gravelly voice commanded.

  "Lady Luck, four, four, six, two," Riordan responded.

  "Status report?" the voice demanded.

  "The last job went to shit. I was following the target. I was prepared to make the grab, but the ship ran into trouble. I tried to assist, but it was too late.” There was silence from the other party for a few moments.

  “The package?”

  "The crew managed to get it into my airlock before they were murdered."

  "What the hell happened at Vesta Station?" the voice asked, with impatience and fatigue flavoring its tone.

  "Our old buddy J ran a security business there. With the escorts dead, I thought he could help."

  "I remember him. Did he?"

  “Not with the package, but he did find a tracking device installed on my ship, probably during maintenance."

  "The Black Hand?"

  "Who else? He hid it on another ship. Shortly after they departed, the station was attacked."

  "You have the package in your possession? Unopened?"

  "Yes, but I also have two other issues. One of them is your granddaughter." There was a longer than usual pause.

  "I wondered why you hadn't put her on a rescue ship. What's the other issue?"

  "J's wife was a doctor on the station. She was among the survivors I took onto my ship. She implanted J with a medical tracker. He wasn't on the station when it was destroyed. She got an alert during the evac that he left the station."

  "Do you think the Black Hand has him?"

  "I think so. It makes sense, right? I intercept the package. I take it to J for help, and the station is attacked after J is abducted. The attack is then blamed on Separatists to obscure the real motive."

  There was another long pause.

  "It's been 2 days. I doubt he's alive. Where are you?"

  "Somewhere safe."

  "Hopefully that somewhere is a place J doesn't know about. I think it's safe to assume they know everything he knew."

  "Uh..."

  "It's that old derelict, isn't it? Leave. Now. I'm doing what I can on my end. Thankfully, you dropped your logs, and that's helping.”

  "Where should we go? I've got Fleet and the Black Hand hot on my..."

  "Somewhere J hasn't been, ideally. No matter what, they can't get the package. Drop it into a star if you have to. I'll deposit 100k credits into the usual account. Drop them both off at the first place you reach and have them reach out. I'll make sure they are safe."

  "Thank you. Understood, Lady Luck, out.”

  Riordan cut the connection on the device. He disassembled it and dropped the parts into various rubble piles and shipping crates on his way back to the casino floor. He settled down on the open couch, pulling the blanket over his legs. He doubted he could sleep, but he should at least try. He tucked his slug-thrower under his pillow. All the stim in the Cluster can't replace a good night's sleep.

  Mornings in space were defined by the clock you kept. There were no bright rays of sunshine beaming in through your window. No birds chirping merrily. There was only recycled air and an anxiety-inducing alarm. Glori groaned as she sat up, her body stiff from sleeping on furniture. Sarah occupied the couch across from her, bundled up in her blanket, her face covered. The only thing on Riordan's couch was a crumpled blanket.

  She found him on the hangar deck, banging and cursing as he tried to fix the locking collar around the base of a thruster nozzle. The old nozzle, severely dented, rested on the deck, already blending in with the rest of the debris. She didn't have to wait long for him to notice her, or rather the tray of food she was holding.

  ***

  Jaisen wondered if it could get worse.

  "Where is Riordan!" the demigorgon roared, flames erupting from her mouth. The heat made his skin crackle. The snakes sprouting from her head whipped back and forth, hissing angrily.

  Eyes bulging and heart hammering Jaisen tried to convince his reptilian brain that this wasn't real. He didn't know how long he'd been here. Where was here? Hezmana? Malus? The fear was real, the pain was real, and that ugly bitch with the snake hair was most definitely real!

  He knew where Riordan probably was. Who was Riordan? A smug sly grin filled his mind's eye for a heartbeat and then faded.

  "Tell me and all this stops," a sweet soft voice purred into his right ear. A cold moist rag swiped across his forehead bringing sweet relief to the blistered cracked skin left by the demigorgon's fiery breath.

  He couldn't take anymore. He had lasted as long as he could. He didn't care if the relief she was offering was death at this point. He just wanted it to stop.

  "There is a place. Near Galorndon in un-affiliated territory. A dumping ground," he paused, shaking with shame and fear.

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  "Yes, go on," the voice purred. The demigorgon backed away, the snakes calming. The roaring fires seemed a bit lower and the temperature dropped.

  "They called it, uh..., we called it Desolation Drift. An old colony ship. We used it as a hide out years ago. That's where we would meet if we. Lost each other." His head hung in shame. The rag swept across his brow once more and a bottle of cool water was pressed to his lips. He gulped eagerly.

  Captain Shepherd gestured and the doctor administered the antidote and a sedative into the port in Jaisen Folyn's arm. There was no demigorgon, or flaming hellscape. There was only a powerful hallucinogen derived from the venom of a cute little arthropod with many legs and used in conjunction with a powerful hypnotic making the subject extremely suggestive. There was no physical danger and the entire procedure was monitored by a physician.

  She watched the tension leave her subject's body as he fell into a deep slumber. He had lasted 12 hours. She would never say so, but she was impressed. She had only lasted 7 hours. As a master level interrogator, you're required to know what the subject will experience. All interrogators are required to undergo interrogation resistance training which includes the various techniques they use, but instead of the interrogator, they are the subject.

  Captain Shepherd headed to the bridge to issue the orders to change their course to Galorndon.

  ***

  Riordan scraped the last of the eggs into his mouth gratefully. "Thank you!" he said around the last bite.

  "No problem. At least you didn't make me 'order' you to take a break and eat."

  "Listen, Chief Medical Officer is more of an honorific than an actual title." He laughed, setting his empty tray aside.

  They stared at each other for a few moments.

  "So, what's the plan," she asked.

  "I've almost got this repair licked, once I get that damn collar in place. I've changed the Swindler's IDENT transponder to one borrowed from a derelict out there. She's now the Greedy Goose. The new nose art is done and I even messed with the fuel mixture a bit to change her signature. Oh," he said, reaching into the pocket of his vest. "Here, a new ID for you and one for Sarah. You are now, Vasche Broche, a psychiatrist from Paradise," he handed her an ID card. " I am Daryl Carter, cargo ship captain. This one is for Sarah, college student, and not a minor."

  "Are these necessary? Are they going to hold up?"

  "Jaisen and I know a guy, that works in a certain office. Once we hit FRS space and I send the requests, these will be good for everything but a deep scan into the records. It's even tagged to your tattoo."

  "Great," she said tucking the IDs into her pocket. "When are we leaving and where will we be going?"

  Riordan sighed. "We need to rest here for a little while longer, let things die down a bit. We're safe here."

  "Is Jaisen safe? Does he know I'm safe? You know what, I get it, but it's still... so... FRUSTRATING!!" she said, fists clenched.

  "I'll drop you both at the first FRS station we can find."

  "You think she's going to go that easy? It is the smart thing to do, I agree."

  "You're going to help me. I have some things in place. Credits and such. All I need you to do is get her to Family. My Mom on Prime." He holds up a hand to stop her protests. "And then I'll do everything I can to locate Jaisen and bring him home. I swear it. But I can't have you both here, distracting me. I need you safe and out of the way."

  "Shize," she said. "Agreed."

  Riordan watched her go, tray in hand. He felt for her, but he had a mission to consider and it was bigger than any of them.

  "Hey," Glori greeted Sarah as she rinsed the tray in the bar sink. Gloria was watching the screens as they cycled through the various sensor elements. It was a cobbled together mess.

  "Hey, thanks for breakfast. Where's Riord... my dad?" Sarah asked, her mouth half full of food.

  "He's in the hangar bay finishing up some repairs on the ship. She took some damage during the evacuation."

  "Yeah, dextral-side thrusters are sluggish, and the sensor array on that side is down, too," she fell silent, remembering someone who could have fixed it.

  Glori noticed the cloud pass over her face; the poor kid had gone through a lot in the past few days. "It's hard losing friends, people you're close to," Glori offered, hoping the girl would take the opportunity to open up.

  "Yeah, I didn't have many friends, but I knew people... And not many were listed on the manifest," she said, losing interest in the breakfast. "I've lost people before."

  Glori waited a few moments, hoping she would go on, but she sat there closed off, lost in her thoughts. Glori offered her the new ID her father made for her. Taking it, she read the information. "Favella Lorch, 18, a college student from Undora. Cool," she said without enthusiasm.

  "The ship has a new identity too. Hopefully, it will hold up, and we can hide out somewhere a little more civilized," Glori replied.

  Sarah looked around the casino floor. "A real burger and some Q-net would be a nice treat. Maybe."

  "I can't wait to be around people again. It's lonely and creepy here," Glori replied.

  An insistent tone started sounding from the cobbled-together assortment of panels occupying the bar. They both looked over in confusion. Glori fumbled in her pocket for her communicator. "Riordan, your... computer is making noise."

  There were a few moments before he responded. "What kind of noise?"

  "An intermittent tone."

  Muffled curses transmitted over the open channel. "I just finished up. I'll be there in a minute. Don't touch anything. Do me a favor though and get packed up," he said.

  "Roger," she replied.

  Sarah was behind the bar, looking closely at the hodgepodge of screens and panels. "I think this is a very crude collection of sensor arrays," Sarah said, pointing to a screen, "this is a thermal readout, and that is a thermal signature."

  "A ship?" Glori asked, concerned.

  "I can't think of what else it could be."

  They hurriedly packed their few belongings. Riordan entered the large room and went straight to the consoles. Sarah and Glori waited anxiously for a few minutes exchanging glances as Riordon poured over the readouts.

  "Well," Glori asked, and patiently. Her small pack was on her back.

  "It's a ship. It stopped about 1,500 km out. It's conducting intense sensor sweeps," he said.

  "Are they going to find us?" Sarah asked.

  "Eventually, they have a lot of garbage to sift through. Debris fields, derelicts, remember this is a junkyard."

  "Let's get out of here then!" Sarah exclaimed.

  "It's not that easy. As soon as we power up the ship, they'll spot us. Judging by what I can gather we're probably looking at a cruiser. They'll be all over us before we can jump to hyperspace." he replied.

  "Jump blind," Sarah suggested.

  "And fly through a star or into a planet? I'd rather not have my atoms spread across light-years of interstellar space. No, we'll wait."

  "Wait for what "Glori asked.

  "We wait for them to go away. They're probably checking for pirate activity," he said.

  “Don't you think it's a bit of a coincidence they arrived," she checked her holocon, "24 hours after we did?"

  "Maybe,” he said with false confidence. "They’re on the edge of the Drift. If they move closer, then we worry, okay? Until then, we’ll keep an eye on 'em."

  Glori threw up her hands in frustration. "This is crazy!" and she went off to be by herself. Sarah stared thoughtfully at her father. “There is something you’re not telling us?"

  "Why do you think that," he asked, giving her a side-eyed glance.

  “You expected us to be followed. Why else set up a passive sensor array in a junkyard of worthless derelicts?"

  "Jaisen and I set this up years ago when we used to use the Odyssey as a hideout between jobs. It's been here for years," he replied.

  "Has this happened before, a federal ship scanning your hideout?"

  "Maybe,” he replied.

  She gave him a disbelieving look.

  "Some other smugglers on occasion, once in a while a salvage barge. Never a federal ship," He offered.

  "What's the plan? "She asked.

  "As I said, we wait and lay low until they complete their scans and leave. They have no reason to suspect anyone is here," he said, but he thought differently. Jaisen must have broken. He had hoped he would hold out longer or give up one of their other locations first. He mentally earmarked a few specific crates and containers he would need to load onto the Swindler in the meantime.