Starcutter - 17. Chapter 17

Gabe had only one question as they got back to the Starcutter. “So...Meg's the granddaughter you slept with?”

“Mm hmm.” The Captain had no qualms about grinning like a fool.

“Huh. So, your getting married to her means I'll have a step mother. One who, unfortunately, has seen me naked. I don't know how I feel about that. News like that...might make me faint.”

The Captain stopped and looked at the barely suppressed grin on Gabe's face. He was having the hardest time ever keeping his face passive. “Do you want to live to see seventeen?”

Gabe laughed. “Don't worry, I am sure many men have decided unconsciousness was preferable to twins.”

The Captain stalked away. “Should have left you in my nuts and not in your mother,” he said crassly, which made Gabe laugh that much harder. The Captain did chuckle a bit. It didn't bother him that his son was taking all of this so well. They had become much closer, and their relationship could use some good ribbing every now and then. So long as it stayed within the family. “Gabe,” he said, turning to see his son stop and look back, “what did you learn today about negotiating?”

“Always negotiate from a position of power, and do not relinquish it without something very profitable to gain.”

“Good. What did I gain?”

Gabe smiled. “A new ship should you choose to keep it, the profit from said ship should you choose to sell it, and the upper hand with the Admiral.” The Captain raised a brow. “You're making your relationship to Meg an honest one, thus making so many reasons for him to hate you null and void. Now he can only hate you for the years as his student and whatever new hells you put him through.” The Captain nodded and gestured for Gabe to carry on.

The Captain went to his ready room and placed a call to Andromeda. Once being patched through to the man he wished to speak, he relaxed a bit. The face that came up on the vid screen was shrewd but kind. “Captain, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Partly pleasure and partly business, I am afraid.”

“Business first.”

One thing he liked about this station master, he knew the difference between business and pleasure. “I am calling to both give notice and ask a small favor, both centering around my ship being attacked.”

The station master's face grew grim. “Is Ryle alright? Kyla would be devastated to know he was hurt or worse.”

“He's fine, Deacon. Better than, he's in love and happy as a clam.”

Deacon's face softened. “You do have quite a son, Captain. Much like you, but not so jaded quite yet. Continue with business.”

“The ship that attacked was owned by Alder Corp, of which I see you hold a very large portion of its shares.” The elderly man nodded. “I see this as retaliation for a previous act of mine. Simply put, I blacklisted three of your associates' fleets through my own contacts. These three, plus the man being tried for crimes against Ryle, made up your four partners. I know you would not condone this attack, your reputation as a shrewd business man is as notorious as my own.”

“I see what you are asking. I shall looking into it openly. To attack a captain who has never failed us in business dealings is surely something to look into. Is this the favor?”

“No, but the favor does lead into the pleasure portion of my call. This is notice. The ship that attacked was surrendered to me, ratified by Admiral Tyler, and shall be at Andromeda for refitting.”

Deacon nodded. “I will contact the Admiral for the details, I do not doubt your word. When shall it be coming in?” Deacon was typing away on his keypad.

“Within the week. I do hope it will not inconvenience Alder Corp to relinquish said ship.”

“Not at all. As the now-majority share holder for Alder Corp, you have nothing to worry about.”

The Captain grinned. He was quick to turn that into a profit for himself, he thought. Aloud, he said, “Thank you, Deacon. While you investigate any connection to Alder Corp, would you be so kind as to look up the whereabouts of my former second mate Darth?”

“A loose cannon?”

“A loose end who may find himself cut off should he have anything to do with this.”

Deacon nodded. “Consider it done. Is business over?”

“Mostly. I am aware of Kyla's pending nuptials to Sten.”

“It surprises me how much information you are privy to, Captain, but go on.” One thing Deacon did like about the Captain was he was very thorough.

“I have scheduled to be in the area for Ryle to attend. Here is the favor, which leads right into the pleasure part of our call.” By the end of it, Deacon knew more about this blood thirsty man than any other person not on his ship. His respect for the Captain grew by miles.

* * *

The Starcutter had picked up a distress signal coming from a planetoid in the Rueb system. It was sketchy and weak, but the signal was clear. Someone needed assistance. “Shall we go, Captain?” asked the steersman.

“Yes. We have nothing pressing at the moment, and the planet is a rather lush one. Someone send a message to Gabe and Ryle to join the landing team. They need the experience.”

“Aye, sir.”

When Gabe and Ryle heard the order, they were into their uniforms quickly. Since they had been naked, it didn't take long. They jogged to the shuttle bay and joined the two marines and medics there. No one paid them any mind until they grabbed gear to board.

“Going with?” asked one of the marines.

“Yes sir. The Captain believes we need some experience on away missions.”

“Good. Gabe, you're a good hand with your fists and them knives you got tucked up, but you ever shoot a blaster?” He held up the item in question.

“Once. I hit it.” Of course, it had been the literal broad side of a barn. He had been aiming at the four foot target.

“Good enough. Tweety, I know you can shoot well enough. Pistols.” The marine handed him a pair of pistols. Ryle just buckled the holsters onto his belt. “Load up!”

The trip to the planetoid was uneventful for those who had seen combat or flown in space – or both, which most of them fell into that category. The surface of the planetoid was highly silica-based, and the few volcanoes that were active produced molten glass. Still, the atmosphere was breathable for a short time as long as there were no active eruptions in the area. The crew had found that the distress signal was from a silica mining ship.

When they landed a kilometer away, they set about with trained efficiency. Gabe and Ryle saw where they would be best utilized and pitched in, keeping an eye on other activities to learn what was done. Most of it seemed pretty standard.

“What do the sensors say, Tweety?”

“Beep?” Captain Jer grinned and swatted at him. “There signal is still faint, but it is steady and coming from that direction, approximately three hundred feet below the surface.” Not the best place for it to be, but they had suits that would protect them for a few hours of hostile weather and climates.

“Do we need suits?”

“Nope. Ambient temperature down there is seventy-three Fahrenheit. Bring breathers just in case.” Geared up, they left the landing shuttle and went to find the source of the signal. They had decent topographical maps from the mining company who ran this area, so they knew how to get down without too much trouble.

The mine opening was large, but some spots needed to be ducked under as this area was mostly mined by the Mong, a small mole-like race. Ryle was fine with the height, but he didn't like the feel of the mines. Confined, enclosed...feeling too much like the slave pens he had lived in for years. It was well lit, and had good ventilation, so they were fine. Still, Ryle felt uneasy. Very uneasy.

Gabe had rear guard as they traveled, keeping an eye and ear behind them for any threat. He had his own sensors going for any movement within the last fifty feet behind him. He saw small rodent life that were known, so he discounted them. What he didn't see, what he couldn't see, was what was below him. The ground gave way. Gabe dropped.

The cave in behind covered the hole. Ryle screamed.