DJ's Mission (20 page)

“Now is not a good time, Needles.”

“Listen here dwarf; I want to see the boss.”
Needles tapped his waist. “I got my payment.”

Pridgen cocked his head to the side and studied
the bulge in the dealer’s pants. It was too large for a cred-stix nor was it
the right size for a bag of trader gold but before he could voice his doubt,
Mocha’s voice came over the intercom. “Bring him up.”

With a shrug, Pridgen pushed the small time crook
toward the door. “You heard the man, move.”

Needles limped his way up the stairs and straight
to the owner’s office. Mocha was exactly where he expected to find him, sitting
behind his desk watching the video feeds from all over his casino. Knowing he
only had one chance at this, Needles pulled out his gun and took his shot.

Mocha would’ve been dead if Pridgen hadn’t reacted
out of instinct.

Even though the dealer was over a foot taller than
him, the Jovian was immensely strong and very well trained. The moment Needles’
hand slipped into his pants, he was moving. Even as the small-time hood was
squeezing the trigger, Pridgen was deflecting his aim.

The blast flew past Mocha’s head, missing him by
mere inches but still close enough to give him slight contact burns on the
right side of his face. The back of his chair disintegrated as the disruptor
blast struck that instead. The casino owner threw himself out of his ruined
chair and failed to see the deadly efficiency of the Jovian at work.

Pridgen’s block was only his first move. Without
hesitation and with the ease of someone long practiced at weapon disarms, the
dwarf swept Needles’ feet from under him, wrenched the disruptor pistol from
his hand, breaking several fingers in the process and drove his right fist into
the hood’s chest at the same time he landed flat on his back. Unfortunately for
Needles, in Pridgen’s haste he failed to pull the punch and basically drove his
fist through his chest and only stopped when he hit the metal floor. Needles
the dealer was dead before his body stopped bouncing.

Mocha crawled out from under his desk. “What the
fuck?”

Pridgen’s right hand was blood covered but that
didn’t prevent him from examining the weapon. Without asking, the dwarf moved
over to the nearby couch and sat down. “Wow, a Peregrine Disruptor Mark three,
the latest model.” Looking up from the weapon, he locked eyes with his employer
and pointed at the barrel of the pistol. “You can tell from the distinctive
flaring of the barrel ports. The mark twos only had two ports, where the mark
threes have three.” Pridgen shrugged as he began to break the pistol down and
check its condition. “I would imagine if they make another model it will have
four ports. Did you know that these things fire a beam of energy that is
ninety-nine point nine percent deadly at ranges up to fifteen meters?”

Mocha shook his head. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Incidentally, disruptors were originally
developed for medical use. The beam was supposed to re-align the molecules of a
wound causing them to knit back faster. Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. In
early test trials the beam caused some sort of feedback in the atoms of its
targets which caused them to fly away from each other very rapidly making the
target literally explode.”

“I didn’t know that either.”

Pridgen snapped the weapon back together with
amazing familiarity. “These things have been outlawed by the Coalition for
nearly three decades for being inhumane. They are supposedly too painful.
Although I’ve heard that the Confederation has picked up the contract from the
manufacturer and is mass producing them for their soldiers.”

“Why would Needles have a Confederate issued gun,
I mean disruptor?”

Pridgen clicked on the safety and slipped the
lethal weapon into his pants. “Better question, why would he want to kill you?”

Mocha stood up straight and tried to regain his
composure. “The only thing I can guess is that the Falcon crashed his drug deal
and he blamed me for sending the bounty hunter after him.”

 “Why would this Falcon character even come to you
for help?”

“I owe him my life, well the original Falcon.”

Pridgen saw his opening. “There are more than
one?”

Mocha snickered. “The way I figure it, there are
three right now. The original, the man I owe a debt to, sent the Falcon you
tussled with earlier, here to get my help.”

“What help could you give him?”

“Nothing much, just information, the Falcon has
been hired to kidnap the Admiral’s daughter.”

Pridgen swallowed hard. “Seriously? That’s ballsy
even for a bounty hunter.”

“Evidently, he was hired by the girl’s biological
father but don’t worry. We’re clean. All I did was give him some information
and sent him to the Cartel.”

Pridgen’s mind was racing. “Do we know when this
was supposed to take place?”

Mocha was busy straightening out his desk and
didn’t see that the Jovian had pulled out the disruptor. “Not sure, I would
guess tonight but that…” He stopped talking when he turned around and found the
deadly gun pointing right at him.

“You know I failed to mention one side effect that
can be both a positive and a negative to this marvelous weapon. When a person
is struck by the beam of a disruptor, it is said to be extremely painful. Even
though the area touched is only twenty millimeters wide, when the target area
explodes it causes a wound nearly one-hundred times the size of the beam. For
example, if I were to shoot you in the shoulder with a standard blaster, it
would hurt but with enough willpower, you could still function. However, the
same wound with a disruptor would cause the arm to explode and you could
possibly die from the blood loss and shock, if left untreated.”

Mocha pointed at the pistol. “Quit playing
around.”

“I’m not playing around, you bastard. Tell me what
you know about the Red Falcon and his mission or I will use this on you. And I
won’t be targeting your arm either.” Even as he spoke, Pridgen lowered the
barrel of the gun until it was level with the casino owner’s crotch.

Whatever Mocha was about to say was interrupted by
someone banging on the office door. Mocha was about to call out, when Pridgen
smacked him across the temple with the butt of the pistol and he was
unconscious. Tucking away the pistol, the Jovian ran to the door and through it
open. Outside were Tinya, Lashandra and about a half dozen employees.

“Mocha’s been shot!”

Tinya immediately rushed inside while Lashandra
made to call the ambulance. The rest kind of milled about, unsure of what to
do. Pridgen didn’t want to completely blow his cover if he could help it, so he
started bellowing orders. “Lashandra, you’re in charge until we get back.
Tinya, go pull my skimmer around; I’ll take him to the hospital myself. It’ll
be quicker.”

Since they had no reason not to trust him, they ran
off to do his bidding and even helped him carry the unconscious Mocha to his
skimmer. Within minutes, he was free of the casino and his detestable cover.
Plus, he had a bonus for Sheriff Kassinger, valuable information and the
trussed up casino owner.

*   *   *   *   *

Commander Alex Cline and Lieutenant Virgina Evans
played their parts to a tee. They were overly professional to each other while
being polite and friendly to everyone else. Virginia went as far as flirting
with their escort but would constantly cast glances at Alex as if to see that
her actions were making him jealous. However, this stopped when their escort
led them through the plant and they reached the Observation Deck.

The factory they were inspecting was actually on
the Dark Side of Titan. However it was truly never dark, since this side of the
moon was always facing the gas giant Saturn and it gave off its own form of
light. Even though that sight was magnificent, it wasn’t what captured their
attention. It was the Dreadnaught Horus.

The nearly complete hull was made of a dull grey
composite-alloy steel made from harvested moonlets found in the Rings of
Saturn. This alloy, named Cassini after the ring where the particles were
harvested from, had the tensile strength of tungsten steel but half the weight.
With the discovery of Cassini, Titian Avionics was able to construct the
largest ship ever built by man. Shaped like an elliptic cylinder, it was over a
half-mile long.

“Rather impressive sight if I do say so myself,”
came a voice behind them.

It took a force of willpower to pull their eyes
away from the massive ship but both Fleet officers managed and were surprised
to find retired Admiral Roger Thomas standing there. He smiled and held out his
hand in greeting.

Cmdr. Cline was the first to shake his hand.
“Admiral, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.” He gestured to Virginia. “My
aide-de-camp Lieutenant Evans.”

Roger knew it was campy but the ladies seemed to
like it when he did it, so he brought Virginia’s hand up to his lips and kissed
it. “The pleasure is mine.”

Virginia blushed. Not out of true embarrassment
but because she was certain that was the reaction he expected. She purposefully
turned away and looked back to the Horus.

Roger stepped forward and began spouting off facts
on the Dreadnaught. Nothing the two Coalition officers didn’t already know but
it would be rude to interrupt the Admiral.

“When she’s finished she’ll house one-hundred and
thirty crewmembers but due to the advanced automation we are installing, it
could be run by one-fifth of that. She will also be capable of carrying about
one-hundred starships depending on the size of the ships. That would be about
one hundred Dragons, I prefer the Raptors myself….”

Cmdr. Cline grinned at the overt plug for the
starfighter his company produced but didn’t comment. It was supposed to be
rhetorical and they both knew it.

“…up to about ten destroyers or a mixture of
aircraft of course. The launching tubes will have the latest EMALS…”

Lt. Evans interrupted. “Excuses me sir but EMALS?
What’s that?”

It was the Commander who answered.
“Electromagnetic Aircraft Launch System, think of a railgun that catapults
fighters into space faster and safer.”

The Admiral nodded. “Very good Commander that is
exactly the concept, I see you’ve done your homework.”

Cmdr. Cline saw his opening and pounced. “Yes sir,
but I do have questions.”

Lt. Evans only halfway listened as the two men
started talking in the technical terms associated with building such an immense
ship. This was all part of their plan. As he would get them talking, she was
supposed to wander around and see what she could discover. Finding an unlocked
gate, she slipped through, totally disregarding the ‘Authorized Staff Only’
sign.

She wandered down several walkways until she was
completely lost. She knew that she should turn back but since she had no idea
where she was, it was easier to just keep going straight, although she did
pause at an intersection when she heard two people arguing. They were far
enough away that the constant hum of the machinery around her didn’t allow her
to make out the words. But she could tell they weren’t too far to her left. Not
having any better idea, she turned toward the voices and proceeded on. By the
time she reached the control room, whoever had been in here was gone but they
had left the computers running and she moved over and sat down. On the displays
were itemized lists of two Dreadnaughts, plainly labeled the Horus and the
Merrimack.

Virginia quickly thought over everything she’d
read on the Dreadnaught project and there was no ship to be named Merrimack to
the best of her knowledge. Her curiosity awakened, she began typing in commands
to the computer and everything they had been looking for was right here; cost
overruns, reasons for shortages and delays, modifications, anything and
everything she queried was right at her fingertips. Taking a closer look at
some of the data, she realized why the costs for the Horus had almost doubled.
Titan Avionics was building a second ship at the same time on the Coalition
credits. And according to this file, both would be operational with the month,
not the six months they’d been told. But who? Who would pay to have such a ship
at their fingertips?

It couldn’t be Thomas. He might be a bit
egomaniacal but even he couldn’t take on the might of the Coalition with only
this ship. That left only the Confederacy. For some reason, Admiral Thomas was
building a second ship for the Confederates. When Virginia heard the scuffle of
a boot behind her, she knew that she was busted. She instinctively knew her
best bet was to play the dumb blonde card.

With a simple keystroke, the incriminating
evidence disappeared off the monitors. All she had to do now was retrieve her
data crystal without being seen. Standing up quickly, enough so that her chair
fell over, Virginia pasted the dumb blonde smile on her lips and turned around.
She intended to move to her left as whoever was behind her helped her with the
chair, then as they were bent over, she would remove the data crystal and be on
her way. However, seeing a soldier in the grey uniform of the Confederates with
a Peregrine Disruptor pistol pointing at her was not what she expected.

“Well, well…what do we have here?” asked the
grey-coat.

“I was about to ask the same question. You’re a
bit far from home don’t you say?”

“Well Lieutenant Evans, I’m here on business.” The
huge confederate gestured with his disruptor. “I can see you’re also here on
business. Find what you’re looking for?”

Virginia kept her movements slow as she retrieved
the data crystal. “All that and more.” She held out the small electronic device
which proved that the Admiral was a traitor. “Want this?”

The Confederate shook his head. “Nope, keep it but
hide it somewhere where Kassinger and his goons won’t find it.”