Freelancing_The Earthborn Read online

  Rakar smiled. “Don’t pursue it.”

  “I figured,” said Blake. “It’s very coincidental is all. I suspect … someone else was involved in both events, someone powerful.”

  “So … last day,” said Rakar, clearing his throat.

  Blake shook his head as he tossed the credit-card-like device he had retrieved from the Trag merc onto the desk. “All right, subject change then. I suppose you’ve already heard about what happened on my last mission?”

  “I sure did,” said Rakar. He tapped at the array of options that appeared on the surface around the device on his desk. After a moment, he said, “You still completed the mission, but it looks like … you have a private bounty on your head.”

  “Yeah … which sorta explains how those Trag mercs knew exactly where to find me. Not only were they trying to collect, they were given details on the mission. I had to fight it out in the warehouse and the streets, and then finally in the subway. Ended badly for them.”

  “You would know more about that than me. You’re one of our best intelligence agents,” said Rakar.

  Blake ran his tongue over his fangs. “I have some ideas … but nothing concrete.”

  Rakar eased back into his chair. “You think it’s the FDF, don’t you?”

  “I’m just saying … I have some ideas.” Blake tilted his head. “I’m also Earthborn and classified as a Daedrould. Not exactly a winning combination in Fredoria, much less the FDF.”

  “I never understood that,” said Rakar, narrowing his eyes. “You’re both human … well … you were at some point. The only difference is you were born on Earth and abducted, and they were born on Fredoria.”

  “I’m just glad you like Earthborn,” said Blake. “I noticed there’s quite a few in the rangers.”

  Rakar smiled. “That’s by design. As a good friend once told me … Earthborn can be more feisty than they let on. I’ve found that to be true. They’re more open to new ideas and, in general, easy to relax around.”

  “That’s odd for a Kreagan to say since they look down on humans.”

  “Not all Kreagans,” said Rakar. He looked away for a moment. “I owe my life to some Earthborn. They saved me, and Andia by extension.” He glanced at Blake. “I’ll never forget that. They were noble, great, and heroic, and came through when my own race did not.”

  Blake noted the serious look on Rakar’s face. Blake had tried to find out more about the full trade partner event. The data was minimal, and what data there was had been altered. “I’m glad they represented then. You know you’re always welcome in Little Earth whenever you want.” He beamed a big smile that bared his fangs. “We love aliens there.”

  Rakar snorted while shaking his head. “That’s another thing that seems to come natural for Earthborn: humor.”

  “Part of my character.”

  “I know and I have to ask … What are you going to do now?”

  Blake rubbed his chin for a moment, and then said, “I’ve been thinking about maybe freelancing. I still have a lot of contacts out there, and my hands wouldn’t be tied by Fredorian law.”

  Rakar nodded. “Freelancing may be more lucrative now, but it’s also a lot more dangerous.”

  “Perhaps … but remember … you’re talking to Blake Brown here. Fredoria could get a lot more done behind the scenes if they employed freelance groups, like the Kreagans do for hunters.”

  Rakar snorted. “Maybe one day it’ll come to that.”

  “Just imagine what could be done. Remember the Terris incident? A Grozadian merc group walks into a Fredorian rim-world colony, murders over fifteen Fredorians, but nothing is done, in order to maintain relations. If I was freelancing, those killers would’ve been destroyed.”

  Rakar sighed. “I know.”

  “At least when I’m freelancing, I’ll be free to make my own decisions.”

  “I understand,” said Rakar. “I don’t blame you for leaving, I just hope it’s not a trend with other Earthborn rangers. I think they’re the last bulwark against Grick and his ambitions. You staying in could provide a lot of leadership.”

  “I’m not a leader type. I prefer to work alone like I have throughout my career, but I can group up as needed,” said Blake.

  “Maybe so, but even when grouped, you like to call the shots.”

  Blake laughed. “I guess so.” He exhaled from his nose. “To be honest, I’m surprised Andia allowed Grick’s appointment.”

  “Politics,” said Rakar. “That’s more her arena than mine. Also, I wouldn’t sell yourself short. I think you would make an excellent leader … with the right crew.”

  Blake shook his head. “Always recruiting.”

  “Of course. What are you going to do for a ship?”

  “Well … I have some credits stored away to get one, and with a pilot, that should be all we need to get started.”

  “Seth Williams,” said Rakar.

  Blake smiled. “He’s my abductee brother. Can’t fight for shit, but he can fly almost anything. I’m glad I didn’t drain him during our abduction.”

  Rakar gestured outward. “Blake Brown and Seth Williams.”

  “You’re always welcome to join our little group.”

  “I can’t abandon Andia,” said Rakar, furrowing his eyebrows.

  Blake drew his head back a bit. “Oh … I see … you two …”

  “Nothing like that. She’s a very close friend.”

  Blake laughed. “Uh-huh. I just had to ask.” He stood and looked around. “Well, I guess it’s time to get this show on the road. At least there are no ceremonies to attend. I’m glad you at least put that in.” He loved the informal nature of the rangers. Although they had some ceremonies, they dispensed with a majority of them, something the FDF pointed to as lack of respect.

  “Before you go, I have a gift for you,” said Rakar. He reached under his desk and pulled out a black cube with digital lines etched on top. “This information cube has most of Earth’s media from the last fifty years. Movies, TV shows, music, and a copy of what they call the internet.”

  Blake’s eyes widened. Information retrieval from a protected planet was a crime under Kreagan law. “How … how did you get a hold of that?”

  “I have a friend.”

  “The only friend I know of who could pull that off is the information broker, and maybe a few others,” said Blake.

  Rakar grinned.

  “I’m impressed,” said Blake, holding up the cube and looking it over. “Talk about friends in high places. I’ll make good use of this.”

  Rakar stood and raised a finger. “I can get you yearly updates as well if you want them.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” said Blake with his lips pulled to the right.

  Rakar extended a hand. “Keep in touch.”

  Blake shook Rakar’s hand and, with the information cube tucked under his arm, headed out.

  Rakar walked down the hallway of the main building in the Fredorian presidential compound. The meeting with Blake was fresh in Rakar’s mind, and the two-hour trip allowed him to go over it. Part of him was glad that Blake would still be around freelancing. The other part wished he would have stayed a ranger to act as a counter to Grick. Blake was unlike any human he had known, Earthborn or Fredorian.

  When Rakar arrived at the compound, the security guards hassled him. He was used to it, being a Kreagan. Most Fredorians viewed Kreagans as superior physically and mentally, and it bore an inferiority complex that he saw played out at times. The rising trend of it bothered him.

  He nodded at the various officials as he passed them. Knowing them by name was a perk of coming to the presidential compound so often. As he approached the office he was headed to, the two guards outside the door challenged him.

  A fair-skinned, medium-sized woman hustled to the door. Her piled-up brunette hair stood out in contrast to her silver-lined white suit, a look befitting the Fredorian president.

  “Let him in,” said Andia with a stern look on her face.
“He’s been coming here for years. Why are you challenging him now?”

  “New protocols, Madam President,” said one of the guards.

  “According to whom?” asked Andia.

  “Commander Adtak.”

  “This is the first I’m hearing about it,” said Andia. She shook her head. “He reports to me. He’ll get a call in a bit.”

  “Yes, Madam President,” said the guard.

  She smiled at Rakar and gestured inward. “It’s been a while.”

  Rakar eyed the guards as he passed between them. The look of disgust in their eyes was evident. They were probably Fredorian supremacists, not uncommon in the presidential guard. He took a seat as Andia sat behind her desk.

  Andia tapped at the surface in front of her and then slid her fingers around. The door to the room sealed shut. She looked up at Rakar. “We can talk in private now.”

  Rakar nodded back toward the door. “I’ve been noticing a lot of new protocols lately.”

  “The FDF, the guard, and now even the rangers,” she said with a smirk. “The unusual part is that they all have different command structures, but they still all eventually report to the presidential council. These protocols are something being initiated by those lower in command. I’ll sort it out. Enough about that. What brings you out here?”

  “I have news on one of our assets.”

  Andia placed her hands together as she leaned forward on her desk. “Which one?”

  “Blake Brown. He retired, just as you said he would. I thought maybe he would stick around, but you called it.”

  “He’s a Daedrould, but more importantly, he’s Earthborn. I knew that the moment he saw all these changes, and he had a way out, he’d take it.”

  Rakar half smiled. “You also predicted he would freelance.”

  “Of course. Earthborn like to get things done. He was a great ranger, maybe one of the best we had, but I suspect we both know which side he’ll support in the coming years. We have … some insight … into the future in regards to Blake.”

  “Yes, we do.” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t envy the responsibilities you have to juggle.”

  Andia shrugged. “We got the full trade partner status with Kreagus twenty years ago, and navigating all the competing interests who want to take advantage of that situation has been trying.”

  “Yeah … definitely your arena.”

  Andia tapped at her desk for a moment. “I’d like you to have an office here.”

  “Expecting problems?”

  “Just a hunch at the moment. It’d be good to have someone I fully trust nearby.”

  Rakar raised his head a bit. “You can always count on me.”

  “Also, I need you to keep tabs on Blake. Don’t lose him. I’ve already arranged for information drops with the information broker. You’ll need to balance your time picking those up with your time here.”

  “Not a problem.”

  “I figured as much,” said Andia as she rose. “I’ve just allocated you an office, and your new living quarters are next to mine.”

  Rakar rose and smiled. “Next to yours?”

  She leaned across the desk and tilted her head. “Is that a problem?”

  He shook his head as he leaned in and gave Andia a passionate kiss.

  After they separated, she smiled. “There are other … personal … responsibilities you will need to attend to while living there.”

  “I look forward to it,” said Rakar with angled eyebrows.

  Seth Williams ran his dark-skinned hand over his short curly black hair as he walked to the shipyard office. Looking down, he knew that his gray pilot suit and black combat boots were more Earthborn than Fredorian inspired, and it riled up the Fredorians who glanced his way. It was not white for starters, and it had pockets, a utility belt, and dark-gray light padding on various parts of the body. More importantly, it was loose. Fredorians liked everything to be crisp and formfitting, and his suit would be considered disgraceful. Still, it had served him well.

  It was time to collect his final payout; then he would meet up with Blake. Seth did flight work on a contract-by-contract basis, but usually collected at the end of the year. In this case, he was collecting early, and was not taking the next contract. The Fredorian commerce agency had a regular group of pilots, but they were all Fredorian. They said it was open to Earthborn, but he found it next to impossible to get in. Instead, he took the more dangerous routes and contracts, which the Fredorians seemed more than happy to farm out to Earthborn and freelance contractors.

  The ships he flew all had food and shelter, and if he needed anything that required credits, the company usually covered it. A final payout for all the contract work he had done for the year so far was easy money to him.

  He appreciated that the Fredorians had taken him in after his abduction when he was sixteen, but ever since then, he felt like the system was against Earthborn. Sure, they had food, drink, shelter, and entertainment, but he knew that if you did not gain any skills, boredom could set in, which sometimes led to disastrous events. It was no coincidence to him that Earthborn often lived together and also accounted for approximately twenty percent of all prisoners. He had enjoyed the thought of flying and, after learning the ropes, spent the next twenty years contracting for it.

  The shipyard office, with its multiple entrance doors, loomed in front of him as he walked the final stretch up the ramp. Once he was inside the small foyer area, the door behind him sealed, shutting him in. He waited while several beams washed over him. Once they stopped, the door in front of him opened.

  He continued on into the large plaza-like room. Robots, androids, and Fredorians bustled from place to place, intent on whatever they were doing. The payout office was easy to spot. It was the busiest place in the plaza and only took him a few minutes to reach. There was a long line filled with other contractors, and he was thankful he would not have to join them. He shook his head at the thought that with all the automation available, they still required a physical check-in to collect funds. Fredorians did not have to go through this.

  Looking to his right, he headed off to collect his yearly payments, which Jamus usually handled. When Seth arrived, he knocked on the closed door.

  A screen on the door showed Jamus. “Little early, aren’t we?”

  “Not if it’s your last run,” said Seth.

  The door clicked, then slid back.

  Seth walked in and took a seat while nodding at Jamus. For a Fredorian, he was all right. He was tan, with short black hair, and unlike most Fredorians, he had a sense of humor.

  “So what’s all this about a last run?” asked Jamus.

  Seth tossed a hand out. “New priorities.”

  “It’s not FDF, is it?”

  “No way, man. You know that’s not me. My friend needs help, so I’m gonna help him.”

  Jamus scratched his head as he leaned back in his chair. “You’re one of our best cargo pilots. Never been held up and have the highest delivery rate and times I’ve ever seen.”

  “Don’t I know it,” said Seth with a smile.

  Jamus sighed. “You know you could move up the ranks if you wanted.”

  “As an Earthborn?”

  Jamus narrowed his eyes. “You know we don’t care about that out here.”

  “I know … and it’s appreciated. This is one of the few places where an Earthborn is treated as an equal,” said Seth. He eyed Jamus. “You know … I never asked why you took this job. It seems like it’d be a hassle.”

  “It can be, but you know people like me need to be in these types of positions to make sure everything’s fair.”

  “Fredorian duty,” said Seth with a smile. “Your dedication is impressive.”

  Jamus laughed. He interacted with his desk surface, and after a moment, he said, “Your payment has been transferred. I still don’t know what you need credits for. You have everything you need.”

  Seth licked his lips. “If you stay on Fredoria …”

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nbsp; Jamus eyed Seth for a moment, then nodded. “It’s dangerous out there, but the choice is yours. If you change your mind, you know where to come.”

  Seth rose and shook Jamus’s hand. “Appreciate it. You might see me again if things fall through.” He dipped his head and then took off.

  It did not take him long to reach the lot on the shipyard where various aliens and Fredorians mingled to sell ships. He knew that all the ships were certified, and he had his eye on one. It was a small ship with a bad paint job and some minor defects he figured he could work on, but it would do. All that was left was to wait on Blake. He took his time as he strolled past various ships and checked them out.

  Twenty minutes later, he spotted Blake approaching the lot. There was something tucked under his arm, and he was all smiles. Seth hustled up to the lot entrance and realized Blake had an information cube under his arm. Seth pointed at it. “So … what have we here?”

  Blake handed the cube to Seth. “Fifty years of Earth media.”

  “No shit?” asked Seth as he spun the cube around in his hands.

  “Yeah. It was a parting gift from a friend.”

  “That’s a pretty nice friend you got. You know how hard it is to get something like this? Not to mention illegal …”

  Blake nodded. “Whatever it takes so I don’t have to listen to any crappy pirated feeds.”

  They shared a laugh.

  Seth narrowed his eyes. “Was this your only parting gift …”

  “Don’t worry. I got a hundred thousand credits. That should be more than enough to pick out a ship you like.”

  Seth nodded. “That’s one hundred forty thousand credits between us then. These ships don’t have weapon-grade replicators, so we’ll need to save some for ammo and whatever weapons we need.”

  “All I need is ammo for my pistols and striker. Blades don’t need anything,” said Blake. “However … I could use some mods if we have credits to spare.”

  “Well, at least you got a real man’s weapon,” said Seth, tapping his own two heavy pistols strapped to his upper thighs.

  “They work when I need to take out weaker opponents,” said Blake, drawing his lips to the right. He gestured toward the various ships. “Pick anything out?”