CHAPTER TWO

Bedford arrived ten minutes early to the conference room, beating everyone else. He made sure the deep space shutters were open, revealing the bustling docking bay on their port side. Once the thick armored shutters were rolled back and locked in place, Bedford watched the activity of a newly arrived ore mining ship while he composed his thoughts. Based on the damage he could see on the ship’s starboard side, Bedford was surprised it had made it back to the station. He idly wondered what had happened to cause that much damage. He puzzled over the scoring and what looked like an impact site. Had a rock hit the mining ship?

The door slid into the wall recess as Navigator Thompson entered. Today, he was dressed in a simple gray uniform with black piping running from his left shoulder to his waist.

“Captain,” Thompson said by way of greeting. “Feeling better?”

“Much,” Bedford responded. He didn’t bother asking how the navigator knew. Small crew. Everyone knew everything about everyone.

Thompson nodded and sat down close to the doorway.

Bedford remained standing as the rest of the crew filed in, greeting them as they took their seats. He did a mental roll-call. After Thompson had settled in, Henderson, Davis, LeRoy, McElroy, Holt and Norwood were the next men to arrive. The newcomers arranged themselves around the large conference room table.

Chief Warrant Officer Robert Bergeron bustled in with Gunny Mike Richardson, both men talking low but intently. They stopped as soon as they saw the captain’s questioning look. Bergeron gave a quick shake of his head while Gunny shrugged. Bedford nodded, understanding they’d tell him if they considered it important enough. Bergeron had been promoted soon after they left Saint Anna; Bedford needed someone to take over the internal security of his ship and Bergeron had the background.

Chief Petty Officer Nicholas Cotting limped in, his legs still healing from the last battle with the Union several weeks ago. He took the nearest chair, and the crew shifted around to make sure he had room to move. Bedford knew Cotting’s injuries were getting to him. Cotting had been part of the security team and had survived the attack when most of his team had died. His difficulty walking gnawed at his self-worth, and survivor’s guilt compounded his struggles. Bedford knew something had to change for the man’s mental state and soon. Cotting had been evading the doc and the pastor. Bedford considered ordering Cotting to see them both.

The next two were Seamen Wade Felton and Dale Montgomery, both fresh from the naval training yards before the Red Fox left port in the Confederate system. Both had suffered injuries that kept them bedridden until recently.

Engineering Journeymen Hank Sutton and Luther Kunz were arguing about the ship’s field harmonic calibrations as they came in, and getting louder when Davis cleared his throat with emphasis. Abashedly, they stopped talking. Systems Engineer Travis Hooper followed, reading something on his tablet.

Finally, Pastor Bastion Blanchett arrived, wearing a plain black suit. Bedford had avoided the pastor even more diligently than the doctor, as he could overrule the doctor, but not the pastor.

Bedford nodded to himself. That was it, the entire remaining crew of the Red Fox and he couldn’t be more proud of all of them.

Bedford began, “Crew, we have an opportunity from the Crown.” Aveline joined Bedford at the head of the room as he explained her earlier briefing, with her adding occasional clarifications. “Questions?”

“How soon do we need to head out?” Henderson asked, leaning forward.

“Four days,” Aveline answered. “It’s not a lot of time, but it’s the maximum amount I was given.”

Henderson and Davis exchanged glances, clearly running the numbers in their heads.

“Can’t fix everything, but I already started a priority list,” Davis mused. “Budget should cover the most important parts.”

“We should be able to use the rest and restock.” Henderson looked over at Quartermaster McElroy.

“Aye, sir,” McElroy responded, screwing one eye shut and rubbing his chin as he thought. “I found a decent group of sellers. They serve the solo miners and not the corporations and don’t charge too much.”

“That’s all well and good,” rumbled Gunnery Sergeant Michael ‘Mike’ Richardson. “But what about the actual mission? How dangerous is this going to be?” The big marine folded his arms and stared at the French agent.

“There is an element of danger,” Aveline admitted, smiling. “But it’s almost all environmental.”

“Like that?” Gunny pointed at the damaged ship visible through the windows.

Aveline turned and examined the mining ship. “Um…”

“Because that’s from a missile impact, not anything environmental,” Gunny explained. “Those ore mining ships have thick armor, or it wouldn’t have survived that.”

“I’m sure that was due to an argument between miners,” Aveline said, not sounding sure.

“So, some danger? More than just a quick jaunt around the system?” Gunny pressed.

Aveline flushed a little. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Then we need to attend to our munitions,” Gunny grunted, leaning back in his chair.

“Do we need to spend the entire budget upfront?” Henderson asked. “Can we resupply after?”

Aveline nodded, grateful for the change in topic. “Budget just covers outfitting. Anything not spent is returned to the Minister of Interior’s control.”

“And you are okay if we spend the whole thing, miss?” McElroy asked.

Here she frowned. “I’d prefer if you didn’t. It reflects well on my performance reviews when I stay under budget.”

Just then, a security camera flagged motion and projected its video feed on the conference room’s hardscreen, drawing everyone’s attention.

A tall man headed up the gangway to the closed door. He studied the door briefly before noticing the call button. He pressed it firmly and looked straight into the camera.

Bedford’s expression shifted from curiosity to surprise. “Wait a minute, I know him. He’s the guy who tried to rob us!”

Ensign LeRoy focused on the man. Though now clean-shaven, without pockmarks, and wearing a sharp business suit, he was unmistakably the same man. “Without a doubt, Captain,” the ensign confirmed, his voice conveying the same surprise Bedford felt.

“Aveline, who is that?” Bedford asked, seeing the shocked expression on her face.

“The other agent assigned to this mission,” Aveline responded, still surprised. “What do you mean, ’tried to rob you’?”

“I’ll explain on the way to talk to him. Until things are settled to my satisfaction, he will not set a foot on my ship! Meeting adjourned! Chief Warrant Officer Bergeron, secure the bridge and keep watch from there!”

“Aye, aye, sir,” the officer responded promptly.

“Lucas, be charitable,” Pastor Bastion Blanchett called as Bedford steamed out of the conference room.

Bedford walked briskly to the elevator, making Aveline jog slightly to keep up. He recounted his interaction with the other agent during the attempted robbery as the elevator took them down. Aveline stiffened and her mouth set to a thin line as he described the robbery attempt.

Bedford snagged a gun belt and a slug thrower from one of the weapons lockers, the lock disengaging automatically when he pressed his palm on the door.

“Wait, what are you doing, Lucas?” Aveline asked. “I’m sure he’s not here to fight!”

“Last time, he pulled a weapon on me. I won’t let him get the upper hand a second time,” Bedford said grimly as he adjusted the holster on his hip. The clasps engaged with satisfying clicks. He tugged on the gun’s handle to ensure it was secure.

Aveline nodded reluctantly. “Fair enough. But don’t do anything rash.”

Bedford headed to the bay’s door, patting the holster before tapping the control panel. The thick outer door zipped to the side.

“Hello!” said the man on the other side. “Pierre Corbusier, agent of the Crown. Looks like I will be joining you for a meal after all!” He cracked a grin and winked at Aveline. “Special Agent.” His Standard was crisp and even, the type of accent that placed him being from everywhere and nowhere in particular.

Aveline started, then narrowed her eyes at him. “Agent Pierre,” she responded formally.

Bedford stared at Pierre. His right eyelid twitched. “You’re the other agent?”

“Yes!” Pierre flashed a smile. Standing straight, he was taller than Bedford. He was clearly in shape, lean and compact, with an air of self-mastery. His light brown hair was styled perfectly. His dark brown eyes were mild, but Bedford suspected he had steel when he needed it. There was a cunning cast to his features, not unlike a serpent sizing up his prey and contemplating when best to strike.

Bedford paused, tense, not ready to trust the other agent. “I suppose you were just, what? Checking up on me when you attempted some light robbery?”

“Yes! Look, that knife I pulled? It’s fake.” Agent Pierre reached into his jacket for the weapon. He switched it on, and they could hear the hum. He held out his left hand and stabbed it. The blade retracted into the handle, leaving his hand uninjured. “The others were just some men I hired.” He tossed the fake weapon to Bedford.

Bedford caught it smoothly in his left hand, keeping his right hand free. “I see.” He turned to Aveline. “You can vouch for him?”

“Yes.”

“I sense some reluctance, Agent–?” Pierre said smoothly.

“Aveline, as you well know.”

“Of course!” He tapped his palm against his forehead. “How could I forget?”

“You didn’t,” Aveline said stiffly.

Pierre’s expression turned hard. There was the steel Bedford had suspected he held. “And what if you weren’t the agent I was supposed to meet, but an impostor?”

“The Crown would have already disposed of me and this entire ship,” Aveline said curtly.

Bedford’s blood ran cold at how casually and confidently she said that.

Pierre’s demeanor changed instantly with a laugh. He flashed a smile at them. “Better safe than sorry.”

Bedford tossed back the fake weapon. He didn’t like Pierre, but the agent had a point. “Permission to board granted,” Bedford said reluctantly. “Any bags?”

“I’ll have my things delivered later,” Pierre said with a flourishing bow.

Bedford liked the man even less. “Follow me, then. We’ll get you squared away.” He turned and took purposeful strides away, not waiting for the other two.

The sooner he and crew were done with the Kingdom, the better.