Dark Coordinates Pt. 01 - The Job

"We do not know exactly who or what is behind her injuries. That is what we are being asked to investigate." Qo'va said quietly from his seat. "I will let Frank go over the details."

Clearing his throat, Frank stood from his own chair and started to speak.

"Staedler was found alone in her crew's corsair earlier by APOs, after she'd made a superlight jump from a span of unoccupied territory about five hundred lightyears outside the western quadrant border. She'd been beaten and hacked to shit, obviously, and she died before they could get her any real medical help. The coroner's report, which the General gave us as well, states that cause of death was due to a combination of blood loss, internal hemorrhaging and shock."

"So this is what the brass were being so cagey about," Clayton muttered, his fingers interlocked and resting against his chin, "and now they want us to just stroll on over to where...whoever did this calls home?"

"Where are the rest of her people, Frank?" Interjected Florence. "Are they dead too?"

"I'll get to that. And yes, that's what we're being paid to do, Clay-five hundred grand apiece, half up front, half on completion if we find anything of note. If not, and there's nothing to see, we keep the initial deposits for our trouble...but we gotta do this quiet. Real quiet; our exact mission details and destination coordinates don't leave this ship, you hear? We all get the brig if we blab to anyone, that's how low-key this has to stay. Shit, Galloway didn't even feel safe using an encrypted transmission line and called us there in person instead, so that should tell you how serious Leadership are. They want to know exactly what they're dealing with before they'll consider sending in any military response, if there does turn out to be trouble. Basically, they'd rather risk our asses at the outset, as opposed to a bunch of Infiltrators, if they don't have to. It's less paperwork that they'll have to deal with if we die."

"But either way I get at least two-hundred and fifty cold ones?" Wyatt said. "Fuck it, I'm okay with it."

"Yeah, until you end up looking like her." Petra shot back.

"That's enough, Petra." Frank said gently. "To answer your question from earlier, Flo, we have no idea where her crew are as of now. That's the other part of this mission: see if we can track them down and determine whether or not they're still a threat. Now we all know how dangerous these people are, so I don't think I have to remind any of you to be careful if they do turn up during our search, do I?"

No one responded, so he continued.

"Now, we're going to get on this right away. We'll stop at Rhee's and stock up on ammo and supplies before we make the jump; your deposits should be in your accounts by now, so make sure you get what you need while we're there. Now, any questions before we head out?"

"Frank, we should play them the patrol transmission." Qo'va said.

"Transmission? She called the AP?" Said Petra, sitting up straight, a look of surprise coming over her pale face.

"Shit, you're right, how could I forget? Yeah, before she was found, some outpost picked up her signal after she jumped back into occupied space. They pinged her, not knowing who she was, and...well...you know what, on second thought..." He picked up his tablet from off of the table and found the General's information packet, scrolling through until he found the recording. He uploaded it to the projector and hit play.

After it was done, Petra, Wyatt, Clayton and Florence sat in stunned, unnerved silence.

"Cap...uh, you sure this is somethin' you want to walk into?" Clayton said quietly. "Because I really, really don't know how to feel right now."

"I have my doubts, Clay. These are the most dangerous crooks in the galaxy we're talking about, and I'm not looking to tangle with whoever or whatever put their leader on that slab either. But I've got a job to do all the same, and I plan to get it done. I need you with me, man."

"Yeah, yeah, Frank, I...I got you, man." Clay replied. "It's just...I think I speak for everyone when I say that that was...alarming."

"I know. Now look, it's late and I'm tired. We'll jump to Bohr-II, set down in Rosenstock, and catch some shuteye before we stock up tomorrow. Sound good? Any other questions?"

The crew all murmured some variation of 'no' in response.

"All right then, strap in for jump." Frank concluded.

They all stood and headed toward the cockpit, where each of them strapped into the cushioned seats meant for protection during hyperspace jumps. Petra quickly set their destination coordinates for the Bohr system and settled into her chair. Frank, after ensuring that they were buckled in and prepared, thumbed the protective cover off of the drive's activation switch from his pilot's console and flipped it. There was a huge, sudden jolt as the ship's jump reactor activated, and shot them through the fabric of space toward an uncertain future.

***

They came out of hyperspace outside of Bohr-II's atmosphere, hovering hundreds of miles above one of its heavily forested continents. They were soon pinged by the planet's AP installation, and after Petra presented their credentials, they were cleared to approach. After a brief descent they headed north, cruising approximately half a mile above the planet's surface until they reached the landlocked settlement of Rosenstock, which was comprised primarily of thirty-odd thousand loggers, miners, farmers, and other blue-collar types that helped keep the Alliance on its feet.

Petra contacted the local docking yard, and after obtaining permission to set down, Frank brought them down to the yard's concrete and alloy tarmac. After he shut off the ship's engines, all six of the Bolt's crew members stood and headed straight to their respective quarters for some much-needed rest. It was late, approximately ten o'clock Earth time, and the Bohr system's twin suns had long since set. As each of the six settled in, they all reflected upon the mysterious and frightening circumstances that had set them in motion, much as Frank and Qo'va had done earlier in the Command Center's lift; the air was rife with an almost palpable sense of disbelief, unease, and a slight undercurrent of fear.

And while none of them would speak of it the next day, Raia Staedler's battered visage and bizarre words of warning would seep into all of their dreams, hovering over them like grim omens of doom and destruction. She watched them all with dead eyes that conveyed nothing...yet seemed to see everything at the same time.