“Ready?” Brekt said, getting up from his chair. He had been sat in the primary pilot’s seat, where Aileena usually was. She was back aboard the Sword, the ship in a standoff with its Council counterpart whilst Michael met with Orson.
“Yeah, I suppose so. You good Meggok?”
The chef nodded. Meggok, like his husband, was all blue skin and muscle. The former gladiator had volunteered to come along as one of Michael’s two agreed escorts. The Sword was empty of civilians for the time being and Meggok wanted to feel useful in some capacity. He wasn’t a mechanic like Kestok, but his time in the pits of Ossiark had made him handy in a fight.
“Yeah. What’s the plan here then, exactly?” Meggok unclipped himself from the chair he had chosen, the gel squelching as he stood up.
“Beats me, depends on what Orson has to say, doesn’t it?” Michael said, strolling up the ramp towards the control room’s exit. “Something doesn’t smell right.”
“That’s the station. You get a lot of mercs in one place, it can get a little sweaty,” Brekt said, his voice as soft as ever.
“No, it’s a saying. It means something doesn’t feel right.”
“Oh. Well, yeah. I get you now.”
Meggok nodded along as he filed in behind Michael. “This is the guy back at Ossiark, right? The other human?”
“Yeah, that’s the guy.” Michael stepped down into the airlock, putting his hand on the panel to open it. The lights flashed green as they detected air on both sides of the seal.
“Might be lucky then. Don’t you need a transfusion from another human? For your… problem.” Meggok sounded cagey. He wasn’t sure exactly how to approach Michael’s condition. It had been kept a secret from the townsfolk, but Michael had told his immediate allies.
“If they have the same blood type, sure.”
“The same what?” Brekt had strolled through the doorway. “What’s a blood type?”
“You know, you can’t just use any old blood. Two people can have different kinds and not be compatible.”
“You’ve lost me there. Blood is blood.”
“Yeah well, not for humans.” Michael sighed. Another deficiency to add to the list. When he was a kid, science fiction movies had always featured aliens that were faster, stronger or just smarter than humans. It turned out that in real life being at the bottom of the evolutionary pile was just depressing.
Brekt stood before the screen, rocking back and forth on his heels. Orson had agreed to meet then in a bar aboard the station, a location suggested by Aileena, but Brekt had insisted they make a brief detour first. He had led Michael and Meggok into a long corridor, its length covered in tall touchscreens, each the height of a person. Dozens of people were interacting with them. Mostly Eurians, though there were a few other species mixed in.
“Do we have time for… whatever this is? Michael said.
“It’s got to be done, and we won’t have many other choices. Besides, let him wait a little. It’s good to make the other side sweat.” Brekt was deftly inputting commands into a screen, text scrolling past that Michael couldn’t understand.
“What are we doing anyway?”
“Reporting the outcome of the contract. The one Aileena and I had.” Brekt said. “And Vergil.” There had been three mercenaries when Michael had been snatched from Earth, one of them falling to Council troopers as they tried to complete their abduction. “It’s important. If we report he was killed attempting to complete the contract, the guild can payout on his insurance policy. Makes sure his family get paid.”
“Did you work with him for a long time?”
“Nah,” Brekt said, his focus still on the screen. “I’d met him once or twice on this station, in the bar, out and about, that kind of thing. This was our first job with him. Figured we might need a third considering how insane the plan was.”
“Oh. It’s good of you to do this then.”
“It’s important. There’s a code between mercs, you know? Besides, we need to report on the contract to keep ourselves in good standing.” Brekt reached inside his pocket, pulling out a golden disc the size of his palm. The centre of the disk had an imprint on it, a fingerprint from a feathered hand. “Mellok signed off the contract as cancelled due to extraneous circumstances. Means me and Aileena will get to split the deposit he would have left with the guild and doesn’t count against us as a failed job.”
“You didn’t fail though,” Michael said. “You got me off Earth, that was the original job, right?”
“Sure, but the speaker-bird has no cash after what happened to Cortica, we would only get the deposit anyway. And this way he won’t get chased by guild debt agents.” Brekt shuddered, marking the second time Michael had seen the mercenary worry.
“We probably don’t need any more enemies,” Meggok said.
Brekt placed the disc into a slot next to the screen. It disappeared with a clatter, vanishing like a coin in a vending machine. The screen chirped happily, before spitting out another disc from a tray at the bottom. This one was blank, though the spot where the fingerprint would be looked soft. The tray rattled again as some coins joined them. Michael recognised them as Council currency, identically sized ovals with simple lines on them.
“There we go, one job completed and paid. Well, paid a little anyway. More cash is more supplies after all.” Brekt pocketed the handful of coins. It didn’t look like much to Michael, but he had no idea what anything was worth.
“What’s with the coins? On Earth I don’t need to carry cash, everything can be done electronically.”
“Ah yeah, you get that on some planets. But if you want to take money off-world, well, cash it is,” Meggok said. “It’s just easier than messing with trying to sync up bank accounts across systems.”
“Makes sense.” Michael adjusted what remained of his jacket. “Come on, we better go meet Orson. Quicker this is done, the better.”
The bar was crammed full of Eurians, all lost in their own conversations and drinks. Michael remembered Aileena had mentioned something about what Eurians drank instead of alcohol but couldn’t quite remember what. Brekt led the way, the crowd parting with several knowing nods as he did. It occurred to Michael they had finally arrived at a place where they weren’t total unknowns or wanted in some capacity.
“Over there,” Brekt said nodding towards a booth in the corner. Orson was sat there, two burly looking men besides him. Michael noted they were human as well, their buzzcuts screaming military. More humans were good, it increased the odds on finding a match.
Meggok squeezed into the booth first, a difficult task considering his size. Michael followed, with Brekt sitting on his opposite flank. Michael’s two wardens glared at their counterparts.
“We finally meet, face to face, Knower,” Orson said. He was smiling, it was faintly disarming.
“Please, Michael is fine, commander. Or should I call you Knower as well?”
“James would be fine. Or Orson, honestly, I’ve been called that longer in my life.” Orson shrugged. “Always been a military boy.”
“I can’t relate.”
“No, I suppose you can’t. What was the excuse you tried, when we first spoke? Tour guide to the stars? You certainly look the part.”
Michael looked down at his suit. It was a miracle it was still together. “I suppose. You certainly don’t look like a Council officer. More army surplus.”
Orson chuckled. “You’re not wrong. Ah! There we are.” Orson passed a coin to a Eurian who had approached the booth tray in hand. They pocketed it, then placed six glasses onto the table. The liquid inside was mint green and fizzed slightly. The barman turned and walked back into the crowd. “I took the liberty of ordering us some drinks, a show of friendship on my part.”