Hard Luck Hermit

The space station in front of them had the same hexagonal construction as Centerpoint, but nothing else in common with the cosmopolitan masterpiece. Every square inch of the interlocked platforms were piled high with manufacturing facilities and hangars, through which a constant tide of shipping vessels flowed in and out. The orbiting industry platform was constantly tailed by a hazy ribbon of black industrial pollution, spewing out of the facility and pulled by gravity into the burning furnace of the nearby sun. It was equal parts impressive and disgusting. To be visible from such a distance, the black torrent had to have been billions of tons of waste and toxic gases. At least it was getting vented harmlessly into a far-off sun, instead of choking some unfortunate inhabited planet’s atmosphere.

Tooley handled the docking procedures as usual, with a begrudging interlude allowing Kamak to input a set of docking codes. Apparently he had some sort of special access. After allowing him to do that, Tooley shoved him out of the way and got back to her usual sequence. Until the proximity sensor started beeping.

“Any chance that’s a shipment of metal?”

Kamak grunted and pointed a hand out towards the long line of massive freighters.

“They come in at a distance, and queue up under tower control,” Kamak said. The proximity sensor stopped beeping as the mystery vessel emerged from FTL. “Maybe the Timeka’s just have another guest.”

“If I were hiring you, I’d want a backup too,” Tooley snipped. She tried to make it sound like a joke, but it faltered. She was thinking about the last time their proximity sensor had been tripped, just like everybody else.

“Keep it steady,” Kamak said. “We’re in Timeka space. Anyone who fucks with us is going to get fucked with.”

“Great, they can fire one missile at us and the chunks of me that are left will get to watch your friends blow up the bad guy too,” Tooley grumbled. She scanned the sensors just to see what they were working with. A small vessel, a pretty standard model stellar skiff, good for maybe two or three people at most. “Doesn’t look like they’re packing that kind of firepower, though.”

“We’ll be fine,” Kamak said. They were already about halfway through their approach. The drifting security vessels that constantly orbited the hangars were already in view. Nobody would try anything this close to that much firepower.

Though it didn’t do anything aggressive, the mystery vessel did get closer to them over time. Kamak kept a careful eye on the ship, but by all accounts it was simply drifting through the docking procedures, same as them. Eventually the Hard Luck Hermit slipped into its hangar, as did the mystery skiff, blocking their view of each other.

“Alright, now we grab the guns?”

“Just me,” Kamak said. “Nobody else goes in armed. And-”

Tooley shut her mouth as Kamak preempted her comment.

“Same’ll apply to our guest. Only Timeka staff get to stay armed on board.”

In spite of his assurances, Kamak made sure to grab an especially good pistol before he disembarked. He took the lead and proceeded out of the hangar, under the watchful eye of a Timeka-branded security drone. The hangar complex had no living occupants, only an army of mechanical drones patrolling the halls -and interrogating another visitor. The apparent pilot of their mystery vessel. Corey caught quick glimpses of a squat, broad-shouldered alien standing behind a wall of mechanical bodies, calmly conversing with the machines. He didn’t have any time to get a better look, or overhear any of the conversation, before their own set of security drones put the crew on a forced march into an elevator.

“If you’re their friend, hate to see how they welcome their enemies,” Tooley said, as she eyed the cold steel walls of the elevator, and the cold steel bodies of their escort.

“It’s a procedure,” Kamak said. He maintained a cold silence through the entire ride, and didn’t break it as they stepped out into a new hallway. There were actually organic guards in this section of the facility, not machines, and Kamak acknowledged them only with a curt nod.

Along with the first sign of life, this hallway also came with the first splash of color. The gunmetal grey surfaces were occasionally cut with blood red paneling, laid out at eye-level (for most species at least, Doprel’s six eyes were two feet above it). The bright crimson bands made the chilling atmosphere of the long halls that much more sinister. Corey was starting to wonder what kind of “friends” Kamak had.

Their escort stopped in front of a door, identical to dozens of others in the long hallway, and pointed them towards it. Kamak let himself in.

The contrast between the chillingly austere hallway and the office they walked into was like night and day. The flowering houseplants lining the entry were enough of a twist from the cold metal exterior to make Corey’s head spin. The bright white paneling and multiple colorful paintings on the wall just kept it spinning, as did the warm, pleasant smile of the older man sitting behind the desk.

“Kamak D-V-Y-B,” he said. “Been a long time, old friend.”

“Apall F-X-A-C,” Kamak said, putting a hand to his shoulder in a gesture of respect. The man at the desk was a Gentanian, just like Kamak, though judging by the coarser ridges on his head and the wrinkles on his face, he was much older. Considering what Corey knew about the species’ long lifespans, he could be hundreds of years old. “Good to see you again.”

“Have a seat,” he said. Apall pressed a button. and several panels in the walls opened up to deploy furniture for his guests. Chairs hovered into place and settled into various spots around the room. They even had one in Doprel’s size. “Can I get you anything? Drinks?”

“Maybe later,” Kamak said. He had the chair closest to Apall, and he leaned forward to be even closer. “Before we talk shop, you should know. Me and my crew have been getting tailed lately. Attacked, even. We’re looking into it, but we don’t have a lot of leads. Could complicate whatever you want to hire us for.”

“I appreciate your forthrightness,” Apall said. “Let me see if we can help.”

Apall touched a few buttons on a computer at his desk, and looked up at Doprel.

“Apologies in advance, Doprel.”

“For what?”

The door to the office opened again, and was entirely filled by the hulking shadow of a colossal alien. A Doccan, the same species as Doprel, and the only other one that Corey had ever seen. Doprel didn’t express emotions in any human way, but Corey could tell that his mandibles twitching couldn’t mean anything good.

The other Doccan was completely impassive when faced with another example of his species, and pushed a more human-looking companion forward. The pilot of the ship that had tailed them earlier, looking battered but not bruised, stumbled into the room at the urging of the massive alien.

“You actually gave me the idea to use Doccan muscle, you know,” Apall said. “Though mine are more...typical examples of the species. You’re very charming, Doprel, but emotions aren’t a necessity in my line of work.”

The other Doccan continued to stand impassively in the center of the room, while Doprel twitched nervously by its side. The Doccan had a very simple brain structure compared to most species, bereft of any hormonal systems or complex neurons that would enable them to act on anything but animalistic logic, though they were still as “intelligent” as any other sapient species. Doprel was a genetically-engineered exception to that emotionless standard, which allowed him to be very uncomfortable about the other Doccan in the room. The last Doccan he’d met had tried to eat him.

“Hard to convince them to work, sometimes...but I digress,” Apall said. He gestured to the diminutive alien that had been tailing them. “This man fed my security a series of very flimsy excuses as to why he was here. Under a bit of pressure, he claims he was hired to follow you.”

“And nothing else,” the tail insisted. “Follow, report on movements of your ship, get paid, done. I- I’m not even armed.”

“Keep talking,” Apall said calmly.

“N-not much to say,” the man said. That was received coldly, so he continued with what little he had. “Just, the guy wanted to know what you were doing in this part of space. How long you were staying. What direction you go when you leave, that kind of thing.”

Kamak nodded. The story sounded legitimate, at least, and he had a few guesses as to why. Timeka had tight security, so anyone coming or going would have their name end up on visitor lists, their ship tagged in the hangar registry, and their face on security camera footage. For someone interested in keeping their identity hidden from a person they were tailing, it was a nightmare scenario. Better to send a scapegoat to do the scouting on your behalf.

“And your employer?”

“Details are light,” the tail stammered. “Short, male, young looking, I assume, at least for his species. Had the same skin as that one.”

He pointed at Tooley, who let out a long, deep sigh.

“Any chance he paid up front?” Kamak asked.

“A quarter.”

“Still too much, by the looks of things,” Apall said. “How’d he pay? Cece’s?”

“No. Hard materia. Platinum, to be specific.”

“Do you still have it?”

“No, sir. Sold and banked.”

“Well, at least you’re fiscally sensible,” Apall said. As a company dedicated to handling metals, Timeka had ways of analyzing materials, finding out where they’d come from, and where they’d been. But if the metal was already sold, it’d be borderline impossible to track down now.

“Any other useful information for us, sir?”

“Nothing I can think of. Honestly, when I do this kind of thing it’s usually cheating spouses or bad business partners, I don’t ask a lot of questions,” the tail stammered. “I have clearly stumbled into something bigger than that, and I apologize.”

Apall nodded at the tail, and then towards Kamak.

“Your crew, your call,” he said.

“What, this chump? I don’t care,” Kamak said. “Just got caught up in someone else’s mess.”

“You can go,” Apall said, with a wave of his hand. “Leave your business info with our security team. I could use occasional scouting.”

The quality of the man’s work left much to be desired, but not every situation demanded the best. Also, after a scare like this, he’d probably be easy to intimidate into a low price. The tail, not knowing how to handle receiving threats and job offers in the same day, nodded a few times and then allowed the hulking, emotionless Doccan to escort him out of the room.

“I hope that was useful,” Apall said, as the door slammed shut.

“Time will tell,” Kamak sighed. “Least we got one tail shaken off.”

“Indeed. Now, Kamak, if I may get to the reason I called you here?”

“If you’re still on board,” Kamak said with a nod.

“I’ve dealt with bigger messes, and I trust your ability to handle yourself,” Apall said. He folded his hands together and leaned back in his massive office chair. “One of our shipments recently fell victim to piracy. An occasional risk that’s naturally associated with the business, of course, but…”

Kamak waited. He knew Apall well enough to know the pause might last a while.

“This one, perhaps, chafes a bit more,” Apall finally said. “The captain of the crew has used his profits to fund a comfortable retirement. More comfortable, I think, than he deserves.”

“How do you want it done?”

“I trust your judgment. But I do want it done,” Apall said firmly. “Crime doesn’t pay, after all. Or at least it shouldn’t.”

“Then it’ll be done,” Kamak said. “Forward me the details and we’ll get on it as soon as possible.”

“Forwarding now,” Apall said. “And no hurry. I’d invite you to stay a while, even, but the station isn’t exactly hospitable.”

“The offer’s appreciated, but it’s probably best we keep moving either way,” Kamak said.

“At least take some time to have a drink with an old friend, Kamak,” Apall said. “There’s a few things we should discuss before you go.”

Apall snapped his fingers again, and summoned a floating tray with a large bottle and exactly two glasses. Everyone else took the hint and left the office as Apall started pouring a drink for himself and Kamak.