Right?"
Jack frowned. He knew that tone of voice. There was some trick here. "All right," he said cautiously. "So?"
"So we go to StarForce," Uncle Virge said. "But we go anonymously."
"Pardon?" Draycos asked.
"Anonymously," Uncle Virge repeated. "We don't let them know who we are."
"I understand the word," Draycos said. "I do not understand the logic. How can we convince them of the truth without revealing my existence?"
"Ah, but we don't have to convince them of anything," Uncle Virge said.
"That's the beauty of it. All we have to do is drop them an anonymous tip that some mercenary group is using Djinn-90s to smuggle contraband. They get all hot and huffy and rush off to investigate."
"Assuming they believe us," Jack said. "They must get a million anonymous tips a
day."
"Even if they do believe, how does that help us?" Draycos added.
"Easy," Uncle Virge said. "We just watch over their shoulders while they investigate. They find our mercenary group, and there we are."
Jack rubbed his cheek. On the surface, it sounded reasonable enough. Best of all, he could do it from the comfort of the Essenay instead of from a dirty slave colony.
"What if they are delayed, or are too slow?" Draycos asked. "What if they give up their investigation and we do not know about it?"
"Nonsense," Uncle Virge scoffed. "We'll be on them like white on rice. We'll know everything they do, practically before they do it."
"And if we miss something important?" Draycos persisted. "We have less than three and one-half months before the full refugee fleet arrives. We cannot afford to waste any of that time."
"It wouldn't be a waste," Uncle Virge insisted. "StarForce knows what they're doing."
"No, he's right, Uncle Virge," Jack said. "We can't afford to take ourselves out of the game."
"But we wouldn't be," Uncle Virge said, almost pleading now. "And we could still poke around on our own if you wanted to. We could check with people who watch merc groups, or even go back to sorting through Djinn-90 sales records."
Jack shook his head. "No," he said firmly. Firmly, but with a wispy smoke ring of regret floating about the words. He hadn't realized just how much he wanted out of this until Uncle Virge dangled the possibility in front of him. "The timing's too tight to play games."
Uncle Virge sniffed loudly. "And exactly how much time have you wasted playing this slave game?"
"That's different," Jack said, glaring at the computer display. "It's here, right in front of me. I just have to figure out how to get at it." "And then what?" Uncle Virge asked. "What if you do find the group involved?
Are you and Draycos going to take them on all by yourselves? Them, and however many of the Valahgua have moved into the Orion Arm?"
Jack glanced down at Draycos's head. "We'll figure out that part when we get there."
"Of course," Uncle Virge said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Forgive me if I'm being difficult, but don't most professional assault teams do just a little more planning before hitting the beaches?"
"Uncle Virge, look—"
"No, you look, Jack lad," Uncle Virge interrupted. "Point one: you two can't stop the Valahgua alone. Not a chance. Point two: you probably can't even find the Valahgua and their allies alone. Tell me I'm wrong."
"Uncle Virge—"
"And point three," Uncle Virge went on quietly. "It seems to me that you've more than paid back your obligation to Draycos and his people. It's time for you to point him to the proper authorities, give him a hearty handshake—"
"Hold on a second," Jack cut him off. "I agreed to help Draycos save his people, remember? His part was to get me out of that jam with Braxton Universis, and he did. This is my half of the deal."
"Yes, I remember," Uncle Virge said. "I also remember that he spent maybe three weeks on your problem, while you've already put in a month and a half on his.
With no end in sight, I might point out. Doesn't seem very fair to me."
It didn't seem very fair, Jack had to admit. Especially since Draycos's part of the deal hadn't involved anything nearly as unpleasant as what Jack had had to go through, first as a junior mercenary soldier, and now as a slave.
And the dragon wasn't even arguing the point, he realized suddenly. He was just lying there quietly against Jack's skin, waiting for the discussion to be over.
Waiting for Jack to make a decision.
Jack felt his lip twist. Yes, he hated this. He really did. And Uncle Virge was right on all the other points, too. Even if he did manage to shake loose the data they were looking for, did any of them honestly think they could take on the bad guys all by themselves?
Uncle Virge was arguing for fairness. Draycos, Jack knew, would argue on the basis of right and wrong. That keeping a promise was the right thing to do, whether it seemed like a good deal or not.
But at the moment, neither argument mattered a rat's nest to Jack. What mattered was that he'd suffered through two weeks of slavery; and he was not going to let those two weeks go to waste. Come hell or high water or interstellar tax audits, he was going to get what he'd come here for.
Fairness could go jump. The noble K'da warrior ethic could go pole vault. It was Jack's professional pride that was on the line here. "Yeah, well, life never claimed to be fair in the first place," he told Uncle Virge. "And I've still got a couple of ideas to try."
"Jack, lad—"
"In the meantime, how about making yourself useful?" Jack said. "See what you can dig up about forty-year-old Brummgan computer systems."
Uncle Virge gave a sigh. "If you like," he said. "But I would strongly—strongly—suggest that you reconsider. The minute they start getting you ready for the sale, our chances of getting you out go way down."
"I'm not worried," Jack said, wishing that was actually true. "Look, I've got to go. I'll talk to you later."
He turned off the comm clip and returned it to its hiding place. "That was our bi-monthly argument with Uncle Virge about chucking this whole thing," he commented as he smoothed the sole back in place. "I don't know why we have to keep going over the same territory this way."
"Decisions of ethics and behavior are not one-time events," Draycos told him.
"A
person must renew such decisions each day. Sometimes several times in the same day."
"I suppose," Jack said. "Seems like an awful waste of effort, though."
"Not really," Draycos said. "Each time you make such a decision, you grow stronger and more resolved. You become able to face even more difficult challenges."
"Great," Jack growled. "Make the tough choices, and they get tougher."
For a moment Draycos was silent. " 'A tree within a quiet glade will break in gentle rains,' " he murmured. " 'But one upon a windy coast can face the hurricanes.' "
Jack rolled his eyes. "Don't try to tell me that one comes from an old K'da warrior poem."
"Not a warrior poem, no," the dragon said. "But I spent some time on the seashore once, and what I observed there—"
"Never mind," Jack interrupted. "I'm sorry I asked."
"As you usually are with such things," Draycos said, a hint of humor peeking through. "What do we do now?"
"Good question," Jack confessed. "Let me think." For a long minute he stared at the stubborn computer, shifting plans and ideas around in his mind like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.
He couldn't get into the system. Therefore, he had to sneak in when the system was already up and running. That would be pretty tricky. Alternatively, he could be here when Gazen first started up the computer in the morning and read the codes as they were fed in. That would be even trickier.
But then, as Uncle Virgil had been fond of saying, tricky was the Morgan family middle name. "Okay," he said, shutting off the computer. "Time to switch to Plan B."
"Which is?"
"You'll see," Jack said, standing up and glancing over Gazen's desk. A small but distinctive paperweight caught his eye. Easy to carry, and something Gazen would definitely miss. Perfect. Picking it up, he dropped it into his pocket.