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  Kept you humble, too, when a buck-and-a-quarter female instructor spun you through the air with, what felt like, a feather touch. I was never a bad ass on the mats but could hold my own against most of the other junior officers.

  I wanted to do some high contact routines. What I liked about sparring with the twins was that they could pull a strike or a kick and cushion your blocks so all you got were some mild aches and pains. Just reminders to use proper form and technique.

  Years ago, while prospecting in the Jenic system, we had gone down to the local settled planet. Visiting a gym, I had gone one round with Sandy and her Marine training. Once was enough. She had two speeds, off and blizzard-mean, stomp-you fast and rough.

  Mica's hand-to-hand combat experience was limited to occasional bar fights. No finesse, technique, or flow. I'd seen him in action a few times when he had rescued other crew members during an escalating social encounter. Those fighting skills were not much good for sparring practice.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  We were in the hangar office when the Business Bureau's liaison arrived. She was a strikingly good-looking, late twenties or early thirties woman, properly attired for a formal business meeting. Sandy was standing slightly behind me and off to my left when the rep came in. I remember that because she gave me a more than gentle rabbit punch to the kidney. She was never going to let me forget Roxy back on Targo.

  Jeanette Parker, the bureau's liaison, presented her credentials as we took seats at the conference table. Jeanette opened a briefcase her bot assistant was carrying. Setting up a small holo-projector, she professionally walked us through the basic ins and outs of getting the proper permits and licenses that would allow us to legally work as independent contractors in the Tanner system.

  Her firm was authorized by the regional government to provide services to escort new businesses through the bureaucratic wickets to avoid delays and errors. I knew that would probably include passing off well-placed bribes. Their on-staff attorneys would draw up and file all the necessary documents.

  Aside from the attempted murder I had experienced, Tanner seemed like a good place for a home base in the region. It lay about halfway along our projected search lane. Kidnapping attempts could happen anywhere. I would just have to be more careful.

  If we did use Tanner as a home base, we could rent an in-town villa or even a hunting lodge for better security while ground-side. Having to stay in the hangar most of the time was making me feel a bit caged.

  Under the keeping-up-appearances mask, I agreed to engage their services. Giving us a practiced thanks, she told us that she would get back to us in a few hours to set up a meeting for tomorrow, at her offices, in downtown Tanner City to finish the legal work.

  It was time to test our new on-the-go protection measures. We made reservations at a swanky restaurant and booked secure private transportation to pick us up, wait at the restaurant, and bring us back. All five of us were going.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  I emerged from my cabin wearing some conservative clothes that befit dining at an upscale establishment. The clothing was just shy of formal wear. Sandy was decked out in some very elegant, close-fitting duds. Made me raise my eyebrows a bit.

  Yeah, she did clean up nice.

  Mica sported what I thought was a bit of a garish outfit that really contrasted with his normal sedate demeanor.

  Roger and Dodger were clothed similarly to me. Dark semi-formal jackets, closed collar shirts and expensive looking designer slacks. Except for Sandy, we had fashionable boots that looked like they were made of fine leather.

  Given the right input, our fabricators did a great job. Sandy was wearing calf-length flowing slacks, a silky sleeveless belted top, and some flimsy looking open-toe high heal shoes. Ranger had fabricated a sleeveless skin suit that matched Sandy’s skin tone and texture, in case any of it peeked out from beneath her clothing. Her arms remained bare.

  When she saw me looking at her shoes, she said, “Nanos. I can Q-signal them to change to tactical stomp-you boots if I need to. Wish I'd thought of that.

  “So, Sandy,” Mica asked, “where's your weapon.”

  Sandy gave him the eye and replied, “Wouldn't you like to know, Mister Magic.” That was a good comeback in reference to his choice of clothes, but it still didn't seem to dent Mica's placid armor.

  Roger and Dodger would carry her weapons. Guns and knives. To Sandy, they were just tools.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Our secure ground transportation arrived on time and passed Ranger’s security scan. Our cloaked drones were all around us, swarming and unseen. We could track them through our Q-Coms and see their locations in our heads-up displays. Ranger controlled them remotely, and so could I since my Q-insert had been restored to above military specs.

  The limo was a sleek, shiny, and beautifully designed vehicle. It was well-appointed on the inside too. The service had assured us that it was fully armored and stocked with amenities. The volume of very rich tourists on Tanner kept the company profitable. There was also a human driver who could take over controls in an emergency, human drivers were very rare. I hope he was well paid. I'd be sure to give him a very good tip at the end of the night.

  As we pulled up to the portico of the restaurant, we saw other patrons drifting to the entrance from a side parking area. Our limo service afforded us at-the-door drop-off and pick-up. Several diners gave us neck-stretching looks to see if they could recognize any of us. Maybe we were famous entertainers.

  Nope.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The place had several dining areas on multiple levels, all centered around a glitzy above-ground circular wine cellar. We were seated in the ultra-rich area. Word about our wealth was getting around too quickly for my taste. As the waiters and wine sommeliers fussed about, we did some people watching.

  Drinks were ordered and delivered. Our conversation drifted towards where each of us would put down anchor after we lost the desire and need to move about the galaxy. I said that I would probably go back to my home planet so I could see my sister and her family more frequently. She was raising a nice trio of boys and had a husband on long-term contract. I liked him.

  Mica wanted to find a place like Tanner that was off the beaten path. He’d move his entire extended family to start a dynasty. Sandy poked Mica in the ribs, “Mica, you know that you would have to sire children at some point for your dynasty to propagate.”

  “Yeah. Thought about that. I’ll have two or three wives on rotating contracts to get my brood going. Speaking of which, Sandy, do you ever worry about, you know, reaching that age?

  “I don't know, Mica, do you ever worry about your pecker falling off?”

  I almost sprayed my wine across the table. By now, I should be used to their verbal fencing, but I was caught unaware by that exchange.

  Sandy told us she wasn't sure when or where she would finally land. Personally, I didn't think she will ever be happy unless she was traveling the cold dark surrounded by her machines and tools. She was one of those spacers who, after spending some time on a planet, felt trapped in a gravity well. When they looked out, they wanted to see stars and the black.

  Sandy asked Roger and Dodger what they would like to do. Roger shared that they would like to start a service company to offer high-end and challenging hunting excursions throughout the galaxy. They asked if I would consider floating them a loan to get started after our mission. I didn’t hesitate. I told them that, as crew on this mission, their lump sum salary was five-hundred million each. They were very happy to hear that. Sandy and Mica offered to chip in the same amount.

  They would have enough to buy a nice mid-sized interstellar luxury liner with plenty left for start-up costs. The families of the hunters would be able to go along and remain safe aboard their ship if they liked. I thought it was an excellent idea. Roger and Dodger said they were staying behind to live as humans. Until then, I hadn’t known that was an option for them.

  It was a great meal with good co
mpany. After dinner, we arranged to see a show. A comic warmed-up and relaxed the audience. He wasn’t bad. Next up was a pretty good solo singer, who did a half-dozen smooth ballads.

  The headliners were a fairly famous band on tour through the entertainment capitols of the various galactic sectors. For security purposes, I’d rented a luxury box above the general seating. It came with attendants, a side bar, and sound controls for those who wanted to have conversations during performances.

  All in all, a very good night on the town. Nothing even remotely threatening popped up on our sensors. I gave our driver, Charles, a very big tip when he dropped us off at the hangar.

  After a night out like that the hangar looked like a flop house to me. Just before retiring I got a call from Jeannette at the Business Bureau. She kept very late hours, must be very dedicated to her job. She asked if I would like to join her for a late-night drink. I graciously declined. We arranged a time to meet tomorrow to do all the legal maneuvering.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The next day, after lunch, we arrived at her corporate digs. Very large, very nice. We were meeting at a satellite office. The bureau’s main offices were closer to the government administrative sections of town.

  Jeannette, accompanied by two lawyer-looking chaps, met the five of us at the entrance. She said that since all the conference rooms were in use, we would have to use her private office. As we passed through the glass doors to the office suite, she turned and looked at our group. Her inner office was too small to accommodate all of us, so she led me and one of the lawyers into her inner sanctum.

  Roger came along with me, whether they liked it or not. He stationed himself just inside her office door. The lawyer remained standing. Jeannette directed me to a chair behind her desk, next to hers. As she started to go through some administrative speak, pointing at her desk screen, I saw the lawyer take a swing at Roger with a collapsible shock baton.

  I jumped up and, in the process, knocked Jeannette’s hand away. As I turned my head, I saw that she was holding a hypo-injector aimed at my neck. She wasn’t quick enough. I delivered an open palm strike to her jaw and a knee kick to her thigh. Knocked her out cold. I could have gently lowered her to the floor, but I just let her drop like a bag of rocks. I hope she would have a limp for the rest of her life.

  Stepping over the lawyer Roger had put down, I opened the office door and announced that we were leaving. Dodger and the others knew what had just happened. The other lawyer was on the floor unconscious. We moved out smartly. On the way out I saw Sandy step on the lawyer’s fingers. Her boots made a nice crunching sound.

  Dodger took the lead, with Roger acting as our tail gunner. While moving through the building, Ranger arranged for a secure pick up for us in a rear parking garage. We weren't going to take any chances using the vehicle we’d come in.

  This secured car was being controlled by Ranger. Noticing we were not on a direct route to our hangar, I asked Ranger where were headed. He said he was taking us to a vacant athletic field nearby for pick-up. It was then that he sent us a video of the hangar. It was a smoking ruin.

  On the way, I put in a called to Detective Stavinov and sent him the vids of what had occurred at the Business Bureau offices and our hangar.

  We rammed through the entrance gate and drove across the field. Ranger was waiting. One of the cargo bay doors were open and the ramp was extended. Ranger drove the limo up the ramp and inside the ship. Even before the ramp had been withdrawn and the lock doors closed, we were airborne.

  We flew low and fast to a hilly forested area. Ranger dipped us down low and engaged the cloak. We landed just long enough to unload the limo. The rental company had trackers on their property for easy recovery. I had Ranger send payment to cover the damages to the limo and the field.

  We headed out to space at a very sedate pace. Too much air turbulence would have made it easy to track us, even when cloaked. We headed for one of the Lagrange points of Tanner's moon. I wanted to have a chat with old Stavinov. I put in a call.

  I was connected to Detective Stavinov in about twenty minutes. Ranger had spoofed our Q-Com signal to show it bouncing off a repeater in the general vicinity of where we had dropped down to ground level.

  “Captain Bonner, sir. I sincerely hope that everyone in your party is alright. I don't have much information yet beyond that which you sent me. I can tell you that officers entered the building and found that suite unoccupied. As for the missile attack, we located and secured the launch site. The launcher is military equipment. We are reviewing videos of the area, previous to the strike, to see if we can ID and backtrack whoever had parked it.

  This sort of thing just does NOT happen on Tanner. I will keep you posted as the investigation proceeds.” I signed off.

  Ranger briefed me on the hangar incident. I had authorized him to allow the coolant delivery crew access to the hangar. While the service crew was there, one of them attached four small Q-trackers to our hull. Ranger allowed them to continue pinging our location while he attempted to trace their signal.

  As another precaution, Ranger had all our bots sealed up inside. Fifteen minutes later, the crap hit the fan in the form of a missile attack. Ranger detected the missile launch from our drones outside the hanger. He immediately activated our defense shields and flew straight up through the hangar roof just before the hanger was destroyed.

  Somebody was burning through a lot of assets to get us.

  11 Road Block

  We weren't going to leave the Tanner system until we had some answers. I asked Ranger if the trackers were still pinging a false location. Like our Q-Coms, he was controlling them to spoof where we were, pointing interested parties to the valley we had settled into before we had cloaked.

  Mica, Sandy, and I were on the bridge discussing recent events. “Some of this makes no sense,” Mica murmured.

  “Yeah, why put trackers on the ship and try to blow it up?” I added.

  Sandy interjected, “I think we have more than one player involved, maybe three.” Using her fingers, she ticked off her points. “That first attack on Hornblower was pretty clumsy. The second kidnap attempt by Jennette was smoother and showed a lot of preparation and finesse. The tracker planting, not so much. Now, the missile attack, that needed someone with access to military grade weapons systems. You can't easily get or hide those.”

  “Military or mercenaries,” was Mica’s evaluation.

  About an hour later, Detective Stavinov called back. “We have an update on the two kidnapping attempts. We found six men, who had minor criminal records, dead in a nature park.”

  “We believe they were members of the first kidnap team. All of them had been tied up and shot in the back of the head. Their bodies were left to send a message to someone, but we don't know who. The crime family they had been associated with has also been deeply decapitated. All the other families are hunkering down tight.”

  “We also located the bodies of Ms. Jeanette Parker, her real name by the way, and the two fake lawyers, both of who were locally known con men and trained in martial arts. Those were also professional hits. Parker didn't work for the Tanner Business Bureau. She had arrived on Tanner about two weeks ago, listed as a tourist.

  Her fake credentials and employment history had been injected into the bureau's records, along with the satellite office existence, the day she first met you.

  “Following the shell company that had leased the office led us out-system. The TSI, our planetary intel folks, tell me they're snooping down that trail further. Our military is also hopping mad that someone had been able to steal one of their launchers and cover up the theft.”

  “Sir, this has gotten well beyond my pay grade. I'd like to send you some contact names at TSI so you can get further updates. By the way, there's an isolated lodge near your ship's current location that can be secured for your safety. And, sir, the higher authorities would like you to remain available if they have any questions for you.” He thought we were still on the pl
anet, hiding in the hills.

  I said. “Sure, do that.” I had no intention of going back dirt-side anytime soon. I told Ranger to migrate the fake tracker location to show that we had landed on Tanner's moon. We parked ourselves in lunar orbit. I wanted to see who might follow that track.

  It was looking more and more like someone from out-system had been contracting local assets to do their dirty work. What we didn't have a clue about was why anyone would be so interested in us right now. It had to be about more than our collective wealth.

  I had one of the hull-bots bring in the trackers from the skin of our ship. Ranger used his systems to continue spoofing their signals.

  As soon as Sandy saw them, she said, “Military grade.” Mica and I both agreed. They were all micro stamped with the symbol of the Space Force that Tanner shared with the other local systems. After Sandy disassembled and studied the design, she fed the parts through a grinder. We ejected their micro-remains into the cold dark.

  After two days of waiting, no one seemed interested in approaching the spoofed location or even getting into the general neighborhood. Ranger stopped transmitting the false data, letting whoever was tracking us think we had found and destroyed their trackers. Time to get back on mission.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  A week later, we were well down our search lane in the Cygnus arm. “Captain, we have located the rift, but there's a problem,” Ranger announced.

  “What the problem?”

  “At long range scan, we are picking up four cloaked ships that appear to be station keeping and centered around the rift location. They are 500K klicks from the center.”

  “Show me the scan.” The center of my screen showed four yellow triangles with a string of data scrolling down the left side. The group of ships were equally spaced around a center dot. “What's in the center?”

  “At the center is a rogue planet. It's not captive in a star's gravity well. The closest star system is over a hundred light-years away. The rift is on that planet.”