Prologue from 'The Pathfinder'
I headed down into the clearing on gravity drives, wanting to make a good impression. They are silent and would produce little dust. There were several merc troopers on the landing site, in the way. How they failed to notice a 300ft. long, 40ft tall starship coming in to land was beyond me. Perplexed, I hovered the ship.
“Yuki, are you sure these are the coordinates?”
“I’m an AI. I’m showing no faults. We haven’t crashed. I think it’s a safe bet, Eamon.”
“Give em three quick blasts on the taxi warning horn, will ya?”
“What’s a taxi warning horn, Eamon?”
“I know Yuki. It’s something we never use.”
We landed moments later after some embarrassed troopers scattered like varmint when the lights are suddenly turned on.
I shut down some of the ship’s systems and Yuki handled the rest. Soon, I would reach the halfway point on my mission for the Chief Executive and ruler of LBL. Prism was one of the smaller mercenary organizations I would visit and one of the few I had an inside contact with. Since I was well ahead of schedule, I could take my time. Maybe when I returned after the mission, I would build that house up in the mountains.
“Uh Eamon, are you going to just sit there and daydream? Are you going to make the guy at the bottom of the ramp wait all day?” asked Yuki.
“Sorry. I was someplace else, Yuki.”
“What else is new?”
I made my way back and down to the main ramp. Jaro Kalridian was waiting for me at the bottom.
“Hey Wrinkles. Glad to see you could stay awake long enough to make it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Fire your writer, kid. You need fresh material. I’ll be dead before I hear anything new or original from that peanut you got for a brain.”
I embraced the tall, skinny kid. I could see three men approaching from the direction of a cluster of low buildings a couple of hundred yards off. One man looked exceptionally large.
“Come on, O’Dea. Let me introduce you to the brain trust of Prism.” said Jaro.
***
“So, you represent LBL Corporation? You are an independent business owner?” asked Gilbert Angle. He was one of the three leaders who ran Prism, the mercenary organization that I was visiting.
“Yeah. I own a modest interstellar transportation company out of Coleraine in the Falkirk Cluster.”
“That’s really far out there. Is that why you named that old ship of yours the Far Out?” he asked.
I think he was trying to be funny. No one laughed.
“You know, I never thought of that.” I said.
“What exactly do you want from us?” This came from Tule Taint, the thin-faced man who looked bored.
“I just wanted to introduce myself and offer my services as a go between, if you ever need one, between your organization and the higher ups within LBL. They have authorized me to function as a lobbyist or agent, for your community. If possible, I would like to spend a couple of days to observe your organization, to understand firsthand what you offer your clients, what you may have to offer my employer. I have already submitted my letter of recommendation from the CEO. In turn, I can_”
“I don’t think we need you snooping around.”
“Don’t be so hasty, Tule. I think the goodwill of a Secondary Power as big and influential as LBL couldn’t possibly hurt us. O’Dea’s credentials are airtight. He is recommended by one of our members… He has signed a non-disclosure. I see no downside.”
This was said by the third member of the leadership triad, Apostophus Leonidas, the big man. He was six feet, eight inches tall and bald. I took an immediate liking to him.
“Fine. You guys babysit him then. I want nothing to do with him.” said Taint.
***
Thanks to Aposto, as the big man was called, not only was I welcomed, I was made to feel like I was one of them. Prism was one of the smaller outfits I visited. It specialized in space combat but had a modest space marine contingent as well. I was introduced to small starship combat theory and tactics, all of which I found quite fascinating. They actually had classroom courses in all this.
One day, I was fiddling outside on the hull of the Far Out. I don’t even remember what I was doing, some type of light maintenance, probably. I remember Jaro was giving me shit about something.
“Why would an old fart like you want to be associated with a big corporation? They are nothing but a calamity, man.”
“I have my company, Jaro.”
“Yeah? Space Lines somethin?”
“Shamrock Space Lines.”
“Yeah, what the hell is a shamrock anyway?” he asked.
“It’s a tiny little three or four leafed… never mind.”
“What? Tiny what?”
“Plant! It’s a tiny plant!”
“Tiny plant? You mean it’s not mean? It doesn’t bite? It’s a damn plant?”
“I just said it’s a plant, you idiot! You been sniffin’ reaction mass or somethin, Jaro?”
I threw my access hatch pry tool down. That’s when I noticed this little pudgy kid standing there looking at us with a big smile on her face.
“What are those big rings on the bottom of your ship for?” she asked.
“They are a part of the gravitic drive.”
“This thing has gravitics?”
“Yup.”
“When you’re as old as he is, it’s no surprise that he flies antiques as well, Theo.” said Jaro.
“I’m Eamon O’Dea.”
“Theodora Pelly. Nice to meet. Is your ship really 800 years old, Eamon?”
“No, but the class is almost that old. The Far Out’s space frame is 513 years old.”
“See Pell? Not quite as old as he is.” said Jaro.
“Nice.” I said.
“Wow, that’s cool! And you have four missile tubes on her… and turrets and…”
“You have a good eye, Ms. Pelly.”
“She’s our Top Plinker, Eamon.” said Jaro.
“Huh?”
“Our ace fighter pilot.”
“Aposto said_”
Jaro cut her off. “What? That he was? I can take him half the time. Pelly takes him all the time now. He’s old guard.”
Pelly looked uncomfortable.
“He taught me, Jaro.” she said.
“He’s teaching me as well.” I added. “Doesn’t a great teacher provide a platform, a kind of floor for their pupils to build on, or launch themselves off of, to form their own approach_”
“You sound like such a fossil.”
“Well, I get what you’re saying Eamon, I think.” said Theo.
We didn’t see the big man walk up on little cat feet.
“What is all this deep talk about?” asked Aposto.
“You, Sensei.” I said. He turned red.
“Why don’t we introduce Eamon to jousting?” he asked. “You will need a handle.”
“I have the perfect one for him.” said Jaro.
“Not Gramps, please.”
“Calamity!” offered Jaro.
“Sounds good, Jaro. You’ve christened another one.” said Aposto.
***
“… I also learned there are potentially significant dangers right outside our boundaries, Antonin. We have grown complacent. It is in the fringes, right on our doorstep, that this potential threat has taken root and is growing on worlds that were not good enough to exploit or colonize when humanity first expanded into this region of space. We haven’t systematically examined these worlds in literally centuries. It was to these worlds that the malcontents, outcasts, and pirates first came. Their descendants are now being joined by mercenary organizations developing into a ‘Wild West’ right in the backyards of many Powers, a Wild West with surprising capabilities and teeth. I have piloted indigenously designed ships from these areas. The good news? I have forged some of the first political and economic ties between LBL and its Inter-Power boundary dwellers, Prism and the much more powerful Ohm Alliance among them. More to come about this in future updates.”
“Yuki, when you get a chance, send this off to LBL HQ via the CES. Mark the last musings Antonin Lavigne, Eyes Only.”
It was a week since I left Prism. I thoroughly enjoyed my time there and met some influential people. Though I only ended up forming a relationship with one of its three leaders, I was sad to leave them, which was quite unusual for me, and found myself in a flat, melancholy mood. Perhaps my time with LBL had run its course. I just didn’t like any work where I could not be completely forthcoming with those that I met. It felt like my nose stuck out a foot from my face.
***
During the better part of the year I spent out among the mercenaries in the fringe, I learned many things, both on a personal level and a global level. My spaceship operation and combat skills improved significantly because of their influence. Before I visited them, I thought I was good. I learned painfully that I was a proverbial Jack of All Trades and Master of none. I drilled, jousted, and studied under them. I met and befriended ex-Admirals, captains, ex-pirates, outlaws, and fresh-faced kids from all over human space. All of them on a mission to become the best of the best in spaceship combat and other things. It was a good life, one that called to me and tempted me. But I decided that is not who I am, at least at this moment in my life.
