2953-03-19 – Tales from the Inbox: The Treasure Hunter’s Competition
A chill evening breeze was blowing when Judith Stirling followed Derrick Kaluza down the boarding ramp onto the surface of the nameless world that held his prize. She had expected the place to be hot, so the chill brought her up short and took her breath away.
Kaluza, unbothered by the wind that whipped his long brown jacket and disheveled his gray hair, strode down onto the rocky outcrop that served as a landing pad to speak to the Zakharov officer who had been sent to meet them. Judith wondered if the treasure hunter was bothered by the fact that the commander himself wasn’t waiting there, or if his dreams of the wealth of a Grand Journey wreck had driven such things entirely out of his mind.
By the time Judith had caught up with Kaluza, the officer sent to greet them was pointing down the line of the ridge, toward the dark hump that dominated the darkening sky. Had Judith not seen orbital images, or the cam-feeds of the first few assault troopers who’d arrived on scene, she might have given this dark form little mind, mistaking it for a hill for which the ridge was only an outcrop.
Kaluza turned to Judith and grinned. “This is it. At last.” He had to raise his voice to be heard, as Tarah’s shuttle which had deposited them took that moment to raise its engine power, signaling that it was moments from takeoff. “It’s mine.”
Judith gestured away from the landing area, toward the distant lights and sounds of her mercenary company at work. “Do you really think anyone else will come to claim it?”
As soon as they had hurried to a safe distance, Kaluza nodded grimly. “This is too valuable for the secret to be sold only once. Someone else knows. We just beat them here. By a day or two if I had to guess.”
Judith grimaced. Kaluza had already given Zakharov what he knew about the other mercenary outfits his competition might hire, so there didn’t seem to be much else to say on the topic. Most of them were of no concern, but there was always the chance of someone hiring Sovereign and paying them enough money to move serious hardware back across the Gap to complete the contract. Given the theoretical value of the find, of course, that couldn’t be ruled out.
As the shuttle lifted off, Kaluza started following the faintly glowing trail-markers that led from the cleared landing site to the base camp, where Zakharov’s troops had been setting up defenses for the better part of a local day. The bastion was close enough to the hulk for an easy walk from one to the other, but not so close as to risk damage to the prize if it should come to a stand-up fight. Soon the mercenaries would build an increasingly broad network of listening posts, sensor stations, and bunkers outside the main perimeter, rendering the position increasingly hard to assault from the ground or to reduce from the air.
If any late-comers got a good look at Zakharov’s position on the ground and elected for an orbital bombardment, Sigismund and the strike squadron would be responsible for keeping them out of ideal firing positions overhead. Only Sovereign of the likely opposition companies had the kind of firepower to have a serious chance of pulling this off, so Judith considered it unlikely.
The marked path brought the pair within the camp proper around the base of a lumpy rock outcrop, so they seemed in a single step to go from the gloom and wind of the ridge to the lights and noise of a camp of war. Mercenaries in beige fatigues or equally drab-colored armor-suits bustled about setting up prefab structures, weapons platforms, and other necessaries. A few suited troopers stood guard at various posts, floodlights on their shoulders scanning the darkness beyond the camp.
Judith, who’d seen Zakharov set up numerous field bases like this one, identified the headquarters in a moment and gently guided Kaluza in that direction. Harlan Zakharov would be there, handling the inevitable complications had arisen since planetfall, and he would be entirely unhappy to see that their employer had elected to come down to the surface personally. That was his problem now. Under other circumstances, Judith might have delayed Kaluza as long as possible having him inspect the defenses and talk to the troopers who’d gone right up to the wreck and even poked their heads into the holes rent in its sides. Tonight, though, was payback for all the time she’d been forced to spend in Kaluza’s company over the last few weeks.
They entered to find the short, thick-set Zakharov standing in front of a tactical holo-display. In addition to his normal trio of lieutenants, Judith was surprised to see a dark-haired, olive-skinned woman flanked by two armed Zakharov troopers. She was taller and thinner than Judith, and her simple white tunic without insignia gave no indication of who she was, or why she was present. Judith could only imagine that this was a stowaway who’d gotten aboard Sigismund back at Maribel and only just now discovered.
“There you are.” Zakharov beckoned Judith and Derrick Kaluza in. “We have a problem.” He didn’t indicate the woman, but Judith knew instantly that was what her boss was referring to.
Kaluza glanced between Judith, Zakharov, and the stranger, an irritated scowl already forming on his face. “Why are we bringing guests to a combat drop, Mr. Zakharov?”
“We aren’t.” Zakharov gestured for the woman to step forward. “Miss Cathalain, this is my employer, Mr. Kaluza. The proper owner of the wreck by right of first claim. You’ll have to explain to him what you were trying to tell me.”
Cathalain slipped away from her guards and approached kaluza. “I see.” She did not sound impressed. “You are correct that your hired guns were on location first. The legal claim is yours, if you can keep it.”
Judith’s eyes widened. It seemed Kaluza had been right about company, and wrong about how long they’d have before it arrived.
“If we can keep it?” Kaluza folded his arms, recognizing the implicit threat. “Who do you work for?”
“None of your usual competitors.” Cathalain paused, glancing around the room. “Which is probably to your benefit, all things considered. As I was telling the mercenary, my friends set me down outside your perimeter a few hours ago to offer you a bargain.”
Kaluza nodded, but his scowl and posture didn’t change.
“You can’t use what you’ve got here, not the way my friends can.” Cathalain gestured up in the general direction of the wreck. “Sure, you’ll pry it to pieces and fill your cargo hold with the best bits, and make a fortune in the process. That fortune sounds pretty good right now, I’ll wager. But it would be a grand waste.”
“A waste?”
“You don’t know what that is. But whatever you think it’s worth, you’re low by a factor of a thousand at least.” Cathalain smiled. “But not to you and yours.”
Kaluza was silent for several seconds. Judith, who had not seen this sort of bargaining tactic between mercenaries, was trying to work out who the woman worked for. It wasn’t Sovereign – for one, they never played coy and loved to strike fear into the opposition with those distinctive black and gold uniforms – but beyond that, she couldn’t think of any outfit it might be.
Eventually, Kaluza nodded. “You want to buy off our claim.” He gestured to the tactical plot, where the angular stern section of the wreck was visible. “I don’t think there are enough credits in the Reach.”
“Of course not. This is your claim to fame. Your path to a retirement of ease and influence.” Cathalain turned away from the treasure hunter. “In exchange for your claim here, my friends are prepared to show you wreckage of the same provenance on another body in this very star system. Not as intact as the vessel here, but equal in scale, and more easily scavenged.”
Zakharov grunted. “She’s shown me no proof, Mr. Kaluza. Just empty promises.”
“My friends in this matter are trustworthy to a fault.” Cathalain shrugged. “But they will not give you anything that could be used to find the other site unless your people depart this one.”
“You expect me to fall for that?” Kaluza chuckled. “As if I was some freshly-minted-”
“I expect you to fall if you refuse.” Cathalain spun on her heel and locked eyes with the man. “My friends will not lose this opportunity. It is too much to them.”
Judith, who’d been silent so far, cleared her throat. “And who are your friends, whose word we are being asked to trust?”
Cathalain looked at Judith for the first time, a smile tugging at her lips. “Have you not guessed?”
“It’s not another treasure-seeker and his mercenaries. Or the government.” Judith held up her fingers and ticked them off one by one. “It’s not the Incarnation, nor the Hegemony, not this far Coreward. That leaves non-human interests, if I’m not mistaken.”
Cathalain nodded, her smile growing. “Are there any of those you think your company can repel, if it comes to a fight?”
Zakharov chuckled dryly. “We’d humble any of the Rattanai clans, and I don’t think Cold Refuge has any sort of ground-troops. Beyond those we don’t have a chance.”
“Then you do not have a chance.” Cathalain nodded to Zakharov and returned to her guards. “I am not permitted to say any more.”
Obviously, this strange envoy unnerved the mercenaries and their minder enough that they did continue negotiations. By the tone of the account, it seems their claim was bought off, but that is not explicitly stated. If they ever discovered who it was who wanted what they had, it is also not included; I rather suspect they did not.
[N.T.B. - This sounds too far afield for Kyaroh or Grand Journey intervention; my money is on this having something to do with the Reachers, but I can’t see why they’d want to get ahold of a wreck that wasn’t one of their vessels.]
