They were almost finished with their first hot meal in days when Leftenant Commander Griffor approached their table.

  "Heads up, trouble," Riordan said in a low voice.

  "Gentlemen, enjoying your meal?" Leftenant Commander Griffor asked.

  "Absolutely, much better than prison issue protein bars. What can we do for you, Leftenant Commander Griffor?" Riordan asked, dabbing a paper napkin at the corners of his mouth.

  "Congratulations on a successful mission. Commodore Koenig requests your immediate debrief," Leftenant Commander Griffor replied.

  "Lead on," Riordan said as he and Jaisen pushed their trays away and stood to follow the black-garbed officer.

  The destroyer jumped to hyperspace as they were following the Leftenant Commander through various hallways and corridors. Several crew members cast the motley pair curious glances. It wasn't every day on a fleet ship that you saw civilians being escorted by a high-ranking officer. Leftenant Commander Griffor led them deep into maintenance corridors and opened the hatch to a non-descript strange room. Inside was a table, some chairs, and a few tablets.

  "Wait here. I'll be back with the Commodore shortly." Leftenant Commander Griffor said.

  They entered the small room. Leftenant Commander Griffor sealed and locked the hatch behind them. They didn’t have to wait long. The door reopened to admit Leftenant Commander Griffor and the Commodore. Two guards in black Shok armor, armed with plasma rifles, were stationed on either side of the door. Leftenant Commander Griffor closed and locked the hatch. They settled into their seats.

  Riordan led the debrief with military professionalism. He narrated the events of the mission blow by blow. He left nothing out.

  "… and then we dropped out of hyperspace and rendezvoused with this ship." Riordan ended, setting his tablet on the table.

  Commodore Koenig looked at Jaisen, "In layman's terms, explain what you did to their ship's systems once you gained access."

  Jaisen nervously cleared his throat. "We didn't have a lot of time for finesse, so I deleted their entire user account directory and shut down every major system to prevent them from being able to mount a pursuit. Simple but effective. It would have taken their engineer hours to regain access."

  "Outstanding!" Commodore Koenig turned to his aide. "I trust there are measures in place to prevent a similar incident happening on fleet ships?"

  "Of course, Sir," Leftenant Commander Griffor replied.

  "They were using the ship's original industry-standard operating system with almost no security measures in place. It was mostly their fault. If they had a tech with even an entry-level knowledge of security, we may still be on the Zarkazian," Jaisen added, deliberately underplaying his hacking skills.

  "I told you he was necessary," Riordan said, bopping his comrade on the shoulder.

  Leftenant Commander Griffor consulted his tablet. "Captain Riordan, you risked your ass and brought back the ransom as well as the target. Good job."

  "Most of it. I took cover behind the crates and they got pretty shot up. How much was lost?" Riordan replied cooly.

  "Several hundred thousand credits unaccounted for," Leftenant Commander Griffor responded, letting a tinge of accusation creep into his voice.

  Riordan leaned back in his chair casually. "Better than losing 15 million," he said, trying not to visualize the piles of credits concealed in the Swindler's shielded storage beneath the cargo bay’s deep freeze. It was one of many modifications Jaisen made to the Swindler to keep them out of trouble. "This brings me to one last point. Syddel claimed the ransom was short, but I confirmed the amount myself. It was all there… unless 15 million wasn't the actual ransom amount. Did you send me to retrieve the target without enough ransom? Cause if you did… that would mean you wanted the job to go south."

  "Son," Commodore Commodore Koenig said, watching the rage build in Riordan's eyes. "We knew it would provoke Syddel. The Grand Chancellor wanted him eliminated," he admitted.

  "We could have died!" Riordan growled through clenched teeth. He no longer felt guilty for filching some of the ransom.

  "Hey, everything turned out fine," Jaisen said, placatingly placing a hand on Riordan's arm. Riordan shook it off roughly.

  "I had confidence in your abilities, Atticus. You proved my trust in you wasn't misplaced."

  "How? I retrieved the target, but Syddel is probably still alive," Riordan retorted.

  "For now," Leftenant Commander Griffor responded. "We had a frigate following you. It's been over 48 hours since Mr. Folyn disabled their ship. The Zarkazian's systems are still offline. The frigate stayed behind to make sure the Zarkazian didn't try to follow you.”

  Jaisen paled and swallowed hard. "Uh, they should have been able to restore access by now."

  "We think one of the men you killed was their engineer," Commodore Koenig said.

  "What are you going to do? Are you going to rescue them? They can't have much air left," Jaisen said.

  "Unfortunately, we don't have any jurisdiction in the unaffiliated territories. We don't have any ships close enough to respond. Officially," Leftenant Commander Griffor said, a satisfied smile on his lips.

  "You can't just let them suffocate!" Jaisen yelled. Now it was Riordan's turn to calm him down.

  "Easy, it's better than they deserve. How many times do you think they raped that poor girl?"

  Jaisen reluctantly settled down.

  "Don't feel bad. If they do regain control, the frigate has orders to destroy them. They die either way," Commodore Koenig added.

  Everyone stared at each other for a few moments. Riordan broke the awkward silence.

  "If the mission was completed to your satisfaction, we'd like to receive our payment and move on."

  Commodore Koenig nodded to Leftenant Commander Griffor and the latter produced two folders in official fleet gray and handed one to each of them. Riordan opened his folder to reveal the agreed-upon pardon signed by the Grand Chancellor himself.

  “Full Grand Chancellory pardons absolving you of all crimes committed before this date.” The Leftenant Commander said.

  “Full pardons, cleaned records. A fresh start, gentleman, in recognition of your service to the Republic,” The Commodore said.

  Having the actual pardon in his hands reduced Jaisen’s anxiety about the fate of the Zarkazian’s crew. He and Riordan shared smiles.

  “However grateful the Grand Chancellor may be if you leave and frek up or get up to your usual shenanigans the new charges will stand. This mission never happened,” Commodore Koenig advised. “So, what are your plans for going legit?”

  “Security Consulting.”

  “Cargo transport,” they replied simultaneously.

  Leftenant Commander Griffor leaned in, “Bullshit, the second you break orbit from Prime you’re going to be looking for your next score.”

  “Frek off, Griff. You don’t know me. Why are we going to Prime?” Riordan asked quizzically.

  “The Grand Chancellor requested his niece to be hand delivered to her mother and you promised your mother some quality time, remember?” Commodore Koenig said.

  It took nearly a week for the Lancaster to reach the Prime system, the heart of the Greater Galactic Cluster. The crew of the Passive Swindler used the time to effect much-needed repairs, and upgrades, and tuned nearly every system on the small ship. Parts, tools, and the occasional free hand were readily available, likely due to his association with the Commodore. When the pair weren’t fiddling about on the Swindler they were mingling with the crew.

  Admonishments were in place to prevent the discussion of recent events but nothing stopped them from regaling crew members at the canteen. They only slightly exaggerated tales of their adventures over a few cold ones. Gambling was forbidden on fleet ships but clandestine games of poker, blackjack, and even Kawahl, a complicated game involving ceramic tiles and dice, were common. They made sure to lose just often enough that their side hustle wasn’t obvious.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  The food was better than they were used to on the Swindler. Cargo hauling, smuggling, and thieving rarely equated to a posh lifestyle. Battle rations and pre-packaged box meals were the norm. The days passed quickly and before they knew it they were nearing Prime Alpha, the capital planet of the Greater Galactic Cluster and the FRS. Jaisen approached Riordan who was standing alone on the observation deck enjoying a moment of solitude and contemplation. A highball glass dangled from his right hand as he casually leaned against a support column. He was the holovid image of the roguish scoundrel. His tan cargo pants were tucked into his black mag boots and bloused. His pistol holster was slung low on his right hip held up by a well-worn leather belt adorned with a vintage CRS belt buckle. He wore his standard dark green shirt under his ever-present fleet gray pilot’s vest. If only there were a breeze to gently tousle his hair, Jaisen thought sarcastically.

  “What are you thinking about?” Jaisen asked, leaning against the other column. He joined Riordan in staring out at the crowded approach lane bustling with ships.

  Riordan paused mid-sip pointing with his glass. “You see that ship, the YT class freighter? That’s the kinda ship we should be flying. Twice the cargo space and triple the range.”

  Jaisen chuckled. This was a well-known and time-honored trope in their relationship. “You’ll never let her go, Atticus, not until she’s shot out from under you. Even then, I expect you’ll die sitting in the captain’s chair trying to figure out some way to turn a pair of twos into a full house.”

  “She’s not the fastest …” Riordan began.

  “… or the best looking,” Jaisen continued.

  “… but she is home!” They finished in unison raising their drinks in a toast to their ship.

  At that moment Leftenant Commander Griffor cleared his throat behind them. They had seen very little of the taciturn officer or his superior in the past week.

  “Oh, look! It’s Leftenant Commander Griffor. Where have you been the whole trip?” Jaisen asked, turning.

  Griffor addressed Riordan, “Commodore Koenig requests your presence. Both of you,” he said, glancing at Jaisen. They shared one last look at the stream of ships with the dazzlingly bright capital world as a backdrop before moving to follow. They paused at a manned checkpoint where the duo was required to check their weapons before Leftenant Commander Griffor led them down an endless maze of passageways and corridors.

  “Aren’t officers usually quartered between decks three and five?” Jaisen asked, pushing his limited knowledge of the fleet to its limit.

  “Assigned crew, yes. Commodore Koenig is traveling as an unofficial guest, like yourselves.”

  “Ah, unofficial, we forgot,” Riordan said.

  They could feel the vibration of the destroyer’s powerful engines as they followed the officer aft. The already sparse décor gave way to utilitarianism. Eventually, they stopped near a maintenance hatch. It groaned open and they followed the Leftenant Commander inside. The room was small and poorly lit. It was furnished with a small metal table surrounded by folding metal chairs. A single light emitter shone at half power. Riordan was instantly suspicious.

  “What the frek is going on, Griff?” he asked, voice dangerous. Jaisen picked up on his anxiety and moved to Leftenant Commander Griffor’s flank.

  “Sit,” Leftenant Commander Griffor indicated to the unoccupied chairs as he chose one for himself. He unbuttoned his uniform tunic and pulled out a small dull metal flask. He stared at Riordan as he unsecured the small cap. He took a long pull as the other two men took their seats.

  “So, what’s this all about, Griff?” Riordan asked. “If you wanted to play a few hands, all you had to do was ask.”

  “Your father will explain when he gets here,” he responded, taking a last pull on his flask before recapping it and sliding it into the inside pocket of his tunic. He leaned forward clasping his hands together. “I don’t like you. I never did. You’re unpredictable, unprofessional, and an utter disappointment. I find your lack of discipline disturbing and your presence endangers everyone around you. If I had my preference I’d send you on your way and pray to the Gods you frek up again and spend the rest of your miserable life in some gulag in the asshole of the unaffiliated territories, or vaporized along with your garbage scow of a ship.”

  “Thanks for sharing with the group. I have similar feelings for you as well. Do we all hug now?” Riordan replied with aggressive condescension.

  “Commodore Koenig thinks you’re redeemable but I’m sick and tired of watching him stick his neck out for you. Your father is a great man, one of the best, but you,” He looked Riordan up and down with disgust, “The best part of you left a stain on your mother’s sheets.”

  Almost faster than the eye could follow Riordan had Leftenant Commander Griffor pulled halfway across the small table by his collar. “I’ve had about enough of your shit, Griff. Piss me off again and you’ll be choking on your teeth.” Riordan growled, his nose practically touching the older man’s. When Riordan lunged across the table Jaisen had leapt to his feet and dogged the latches on the hatch. Riordan pushed the officer away to sit heavily in his chair when a stern knock came from the dogged hatch.

  “Who is it?” Jaisen asked in a sing-song voice.

  “Cut the dren and open up!” Commodore Koenig’s muffled demand came through the bulkhead.

  Riordan nodded assent and Jaisen released the latches. Commodore Koenig entered the room alone. He glanced around reading the tension. “Catching up, I see. Have a seat gentlemen,” he said, pulling back his chair. “We’re only a few hours out from Prime Alpha. Your mother is ecstatic about your visit but we have serious matters to discuss.”

  The four men sat in tense silence for a few moments.

  “Roger Syddel and his crew are dead,” he said, observing his son’s reaction. “They were never able to restore the Zarkazian’s systems and succumbed to hypoxia.”

  Riordan swallowed hard as Jaisen shifted in his chair uncomfortably.

  “The frigate towed the Zarkazian into the nearest unaffiliated system where we expect it will be scavenged and stripped to its keel as soon as it’s discovered.” Commodore Koenig looked over at Leftenant Commander Griffor and said, “Go ahead.” He looked tired and old. Time was an enemy even the strongest warrior couldn’t defeat.

  “The information we are about to discuss will never be spoken of outside this room,” Leftenant Commander Griffor stated.

  “Upon penalty of death?” Riordan interrupted sarcastically.

  “Upon penalty of all of us being tried for treason and publicly executed. So, yes.” Leftenant Commander Griffor finished.

  “Agreed?” Commodore Koenig asked, placing his right hand palm up in the middle of the table. No one can exactly pinpoint its advent but the gesture represented the willingness to accept what was offered and the terms under which it was offered. Each man solemnly added their hand to the table.

  “Agreed!” they said in unison, completing the ancient ritual that bound them all to secrecy.

  “We didn’t send you on a suicide mission. Your primary mission was as a distraction.” Commodore Koenig said.

  “You were selected because we needed someone we could count on to epically frek up,” Leftenant Commander Griffor added unnecessarily.

  Commodore Koenig shot an annoyed glare at Leftenant Commander Griffor. “And also because you have ethics and a moral code. The girl was a secondary priority, but I knew you’d die before you left her behind,” Commodore Koenig held out his hand. Leftenant Commander Griffor reluctantly handed over the flask. The Commodore spun the cap off and swigged. “It was a hell of a risk. If your mother found out, the fallout would make anything the Grand Chancellor did seem like a thanks-gifting celebration.”

  “The Grand Chancellor doesn’t know his niece’s rescue was a cover for a military operation?” Jaisen asked.

  “And he never will,” Leftenant Commander Griffor warned. “The op was planned at levels above his pay grade.”

  “How high?” Riordan asked.

  “The Fleet Marshall, The Grand Solicitor, The Supreme Speaker of the Senate, and The Magister of the House of Governors,” Commodore Koenig responded.

  Jaisen let out a low whistle.

  “The four horseman,” Riordan said using the popular but distasteful nickname for the four most powerful people in the Greater Galactic cluster. All four positions were by appointment only and they served for life or until retirement. The four horsemen held the true power in the government representing the Military, Judicial, Executive, and Legislative branches.

  “We knew Syddel was going to try and steal the ransom. We used the drop to get him out into the open. His organization needed resources and 15 million credits were too sweet to pass up,” Commodore Koenig swigged from the flask a final time. He handed it back to Leftenant Commander Griffor who made a face at finding it empty.

  “The Grand Chancellor’s public campaign against piracy in the Outer Territories has been very effective. Syddel planned to space the Grand Chancellor’s niece as a personal message to back off. As we speak, a series of targeted raids are finishing off the rest of Syddel’s gang in the unaffiliated territories.”

  Riordan tried not to feel proud of his contribution and failed. Who would have thought an itinerant smuggler and an expert thief would have been instrumental in breaking the back of the most successful pirate gang in the last century.

  “You came through, Atticus. Thank you,” his father said, emotion seeping into his voice.

  “Uh, hey, you’re welcome. We’re glad to have helped. You just should have been forthcoming about what was going on,” Riordan said, giving the older man’s hand a warm squeeze.

  Commodore Koenig smiled at his son. “I’m proud of you. I always have been. I hope you know that. You’re just so stubborn and independent!”

  Griffor cleared his throat. “The additional business, Sir.”

  “Yes. Additional business.” Commodore Koenig said, unconsciously sitting up straighter and adjusting his uniform. “Roger Syddel wasn’t just the leader of a private gang.”

  “Ok,” Jaisen said confused, “What else was he?”

  “Have you ever heard of the Black Hand?” Leftenant Commander Griffor asked Riordan and Jaisen.

  They shared a confused glance. “Never heard of them, Jaisen,” Riordan asked, turning to his partner.

  “No,” Jaisen replied. “Should we have?”

  “I’d be very surprised if you had to be honest. Saying that name around the wrong people … well it wouldn’t be good,” Commodore Koenig said.

  “Roger Syddel was a high-ranking member of the Black Hand,” Leftenant Commander Griffor said, “which is why many of us in the know advocated for a commando raid. We gave your involvement a very low chance of success.”

  “Thanks, that means a lot,” Riordan replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Hol’ up. Who’s us?” Jaisen interrupted.