completed under the ++++++++
Merc
-------------------
Chapter 1: The Bakery
The fate of the Tor Gralls Bakery was soon to be decided. One Argon year had passed since contact was lost after the Khaak had sprung the trap. One year the owner had been missing presumed dead and even Caran Beligns optimism had faded with time. There had been no news, not even the trace of the missing sectors found.
Caran had taken a personal interest in monitoring the current events as relations no matter how distant seemed to be crawling out of the woodwork, each with their eyes on the potential for inheriting a small fortune. Yet Tor had not been idle before he left and unknown to many he had drawn up a will in the event that he failed to return.
In his study of the factory assets and accounts Caran noticed that there was some mention of creditors. This had somehow appeared shortly before contact was lost and had since been missing in the accounts. He had carried out some research of his own and the information on the datapad in his hand would be of great dismay to many.
It was with little surprise that he saw Serandamancketal standing near the back when he entered the chamber. He looked around at the assembled crowd mostly seated and trying to determine the strength of the opposition.
The Wall sector Governor was still missing as was the executor of the will. Caran felt they would be finalising the detail and ensuring the official government documentation was in order, thereby acknowledging that Tor Grall was officially considered deceased and his assets would be distributed in accordance to his last will and testament.
Caran noted there were no Teladi present. He had half expected to see the female Bilyzonus sat in the crowd. To add to his surprise he could not to see Korecmancketras, the Bakery station commander, either.
As much as he hated public appearances this one was going to hold a certain entertainment value. Finding a quiet corner in which to lurk Caran leant against the wall. After a short while Serandamancketal drifted across.
With a slight nod of acknowledgement Caran commented quietly, “Good to see you again.”
Serandamancketal replied in hushed tones, “Received an invitation and it would have been rude not to show up. You?”
Caran commented, “Curiosity.”
The Paranid smiled. Caran took a look at his time piece and made a mental note it was already running late. The door opened and the governor walked in and sat behind the official looking desk. Following him was the attorney and executor of the will. He drew up a chair and sat beside the Governor.
Speaking clearly the Governor addressed the assembly, “Good day ladies and gentlemen. I apologise for the delay in the start of proceedings, but we had a few minor matters to discuss and paperwork to be signed.” There was a cursory pause before the Governor resumed his opening speech, “Today marks one Argon year since the last known contact with the outer sectors. It is with deep sadness and regret that we must now consider the colonists, factory workers and all other travellers lost in those sectors to have perished. At midday Prima City time there will be a memorial service for the nine million, seven hundred and fifty eight thousand men, women and children that went missing this day one year ago.” Again the governor paused and took a small sip of water from a glass on the desk, “Amongst the many is one man, which brings us to our unfortunate business today. Most of you will know that nearly all stations are owned and controlled by large corporations and share holders. The Grall Bakery was unique in the respect that it was wholly owned by Tor Grall. Before the executor of the will, Mr Harrith, reads out the last wishes of the late Mr Grall, I would like it to be known that several of the corporations have approached myself with respect to purchasing the facility, and will make a generous offer to whomever receives the deeds. Those details may be discussed with me at any time after this meeting.” The Governor solemnly observed the gathering and then tilted his head towards the executor. “Mr Harrith, the floor is yours.”
Harrith cleared his throat, “Good day ladies and gentlemen. May I first express my deepest condolences to all friends and family of the late Mr Grall.” There was a slight shuffling of feet and some unnecessarily loud sniffing from various parts of the group. The executor pulled out a large envelope with an unbroken seal. Before the crowd of observers he opened it and pulled out the sheets of synthetic parchment. Then began to read, “This being the last will and testament of Mr Tor Grall, who, being of sound mind and body, hereby bequeaths the following to persons or organisations that have most supported him in recent times.”
Caran Belign smiled as he observed the stony faces of the, would be, relatives.
“That my creditors are paid in full, and any monies remaining be distributed to those members of my family that attended the funeral of my late parents.”
Caran looked at the accounts on the datapad and raised an eyebrow.
The executor of the will referred to his own datapad and commented, “The last accounts of the late Mr Grall indicates that his accounts closed with a balance of eighteen million eight hundred thousand credits.”
Caran stepped forward, “If I may interrupt.”
Everyone looked around, and it was the Governors surprised face which spoke first, “Commander Belign, why the interruption.”
Caran replied, “Firstly may I apologise to one and all, but the agency has unfortunately uncovered an accounting irregularity with Mr Gralls accounts. Although Mr Gralls accounts appear healthy the greater part of that wealth has been accumulated since he went missing. Further investigation has led us to conclusive evidence that the late Mr Grall did indeed have a business partner. Unfortunately she does not appear to be here today, and as such she has prior claim to three quarters of the monies held in the account. We have also discovered a creditor that we have not been able to trace as yet, but they also have a prior claim to a substantial amount of the remaining credits. If you permit me a moment and I will transfer the details to you.”
The executor looked thoughtful and then nodded. A moment later and he looked at the revised accounts and then at Caran before speaking slowly, “With the revised figures, taking into account the partnership and creditor, the monies left in the account for distribution to family members, that attended the late Mr Gralls parents' funeral is, five hundred thousand credits.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. As people turned their attention to the next announcement from the executor Caran retreated back to the corner of the room. Serandamancketal commented, “Nice one. But who’s the missing creditor? Want us to find them for you?”
Caran looked at the Paranid and with a shrug showed him the name on the datapad. Serandamancketal looked at the name and gave a slight snort of restrained laughter, “I think I know this person.”
Caran commented dryly, “Well the next time you see this person, perhaps you’ll tell them I have some good news for them, if they’d care to drop by the office.”
Serandamancketal replied quietly whilst grinning, “I’ll be sure to mention it. But I don’t think they’ll be dropping by anytime soon.”
This seemed to confirm Carans suspicions as to the identity of the mysterious person, quietly he sighed and shook his head.
Harrith spoke again, “Moving on, to the freighters and fighter escorts that have been working independently of the Bakery. These have been bequeathed to the Teladi Bilyzonus, to whom the late Mr Grall thanks for her support when he was nearly fatally wounded and the business acumen that she taught him in his tentative trading days.”
There were murmurs as people looked around but, just as Caran had noted, they could not see any Teladi in the room.
Harrith paused and took a moment to flick through the last page of listed items, “Lastly the Bakery and all associated assets pertaining to it, as listed here, have been bequeathed to the War Master Mercenary Guild.”
There was a significant amount of murmuring and many disappointed faces. Caran looked across at Serandamancketal and gave a slight nod of the head.
Meanwhile the Governor looked perplexed, when someone in the audience commented, “Excuse me Governor, but if my memory serves me correctly, the War Master Guild are not recognised in Argon space as legitimate station owners and have been precluded from owning such facilities in our sectors.”
Caran commented quietly to Serandamancketal, “Looks like someone’s brought their legal advisor.”
Serandamancketal replied in a whisper, “I'll have some of the lads chat to him later.”
Caran glanced across, and the mercenary gave a roguish grin. The Governor responded to the observation, “That is the still the case. Unless, Mr Belign, you know differently.” He looked across the room towards Caran.
The big agent moved forward, “That is correct, the War Master Guild are currently precluded from owning or buying new stations in Argon territories, due to their association with less than desirable elements of argon society.”
A murmur ran through the crowd. Caran waited for a moment and then added, “However.” The room fell silent and the Governor, who watched Carans’ expression, had realised there was more to come. Caran continued, “This is currently under review. The possibility of being named owners as per the last will and testament of the late Tor Grall, or anyone else, had never been considered. There is the very real possibility that they will be given some leeway to maintain ownership under strict monitoring, or that they will be given time to find a suitable buyer.”
The Governor gave a slight nod of the head, “And both conditions would satisfy the wishes of the late Mr Grall. How long before we will know the outcome of the review.”
Caran contemplated for a while and responded, “Approximately two Wozura.”
The Governor nodded and turned to Harrith, “Anything else?” The lawyer shook his head and the Governor addressed the gathering, “This concludes our business for today. Those that wish to examine the details of the will, Mr Harrith will be available on the station for the next Tazura.” Rising from his seat the Governor left the chamber.
A number of those present moved forward to talk and view the will. Caran slipped out of the room as did Serandamancketal. As they wandered along the corridors back to the main trading centre of the station Serandamancketal asked, “So do you think they’ll let us keep the station?”
Caran replied openly, “That’s down to the politicians and bureaucrats. If Tor had mentioned his intention earlier, I could have prepared a file to help support the lifting of the ban. You will need to convince them that some of the known criminals you employ have indeed turned over a new leaf, and give assurances that they will be restrained from entering Argon space.”
*********************
The Paranid nodded, “That should be easy. Now what about the trouble in the new sectors?”
Caran replied, “Yaki?” The Paranid nodded and Caran continued, “We should discuss this another time.”
Serandamancketal glanced across, “Just so that you know, we have cut back our work in those sectors.”
Caran commented dryly, “I would have thought your people would have relished the fight.”
The Paranid responded, “Not exactly.”
The agent looked across out of curiosity to see Serandamancketals’ expression and could tell he was earnest with the last sentiment. He said with a sigh, “It’s being dealt with, I understand the Navy is preparing to make some moves.”
Serandamancketal said quietly, “Kotu?”
Caran gave the smallest of perceivable nods but said, “I couldn’t possibly comment.”
Changing the subject, Serandamancketal said, “Do you think he’ll make it back?”
Caran commented, “That’s making the presumption that he’s still alive after all this time.”
The Paranid responded, “Stranger things have been known to happen.”
With a sigh and a slight smile Caran replied, “They have indeed.”
The two parted company and when Caran returned to his office in the Equipment Dock in Argon Prime he took a long moment to look out at the star strewn blackness. He thought to himself how much had changed since the loss of the sectors and the legacy of new gateways.
There was a rush to occupy the new territories by the other races. The Argon government were understandably hesitant to commit itself. That is without having the Navy make a sweep through the occupied territories first.
The one major benefit of the incident was in the rapid deployment of the latest offerings from the shipyards. The Argon Nova was now ramping up in production and replacing the old Elites. Stations were being modified and re-skinned to improve structural integrity.
The new Argon Mammoth was unrecognisable from its predecessor with more weapon emplacements included in the latest design. Caran reflected, if there was one thing the Argon demonstrated above all else under the current President it was the resolve to succeed.
Having expected a considerable amount of bad publicity after the incident the Service managed to escape virtually unscathed while the Presidential office openly took full responsibility. The effect of which was seen later when, in what should have been a vote of no confidence in the Presidency, the open honest face of the President had reversed the tide of opinion with some highly motivational speeches with what was tantamount to a declaration of war against the Khaak. The only fall out in the political landscape were a few of the dissenting voices that tried to oust the President from office.
Caran had formed a growing respect for President Carolile Pamitter and although she was now paying a lot more attention to the service reports, she was also asking intelligent questions. Unlike previous Presidents who, having erred in the eyes of the service and had ended up blindly following instructions, Carolile was still very much in control.
As Caran cast his eye over the stars his mind wandered back to the fate of Tor and he pondered, “Are you still out there?”
Feran Bloodheart had not returned to his vicious ways, but still resorted to fear and intimidation to govern his station. The initial delight at the disappearance of the sectors and the almost certain conclusion that Tor Grall would not be returning, had slowly become an empty void. Even he now had to admit to himself that the boy had grown to be a worthy enemy, and as such it had given him a driving obsession to focus his mind.
With Tor out of the way, the credits in the Bloodheart account had begun to steadily climb. He had no intention of involving himself with the outer sectors again, as he would have to run up against the dominant clan in that area. However he was interested in obtaining certain amounts of their stolen technology. Whispers were filtering down through the pirate channels and already he had spies trying to infiltrate the organisation.
For the time being Feran did not care that Split Chief Councillor Twh had been livid with his antics and he was coming to the conclusion that he should arrange for the demise of the Councillor. That task would hold many challenges and would have to succeed. Failure was not an option.
The family Nyj had provided details for a range of new pirate ships and already these were beginning to roll into production. The skull face of the ships provided a certain amount of menace that Feran approved of. The need for further advancement was in line with the newly updated fighters of the five races. It was a rapid change to avoid being completely out classed by the sector police.
He had a mind to visit the source of the Antrodi Weed. Even though the supply was regular, in good quantity and excellent quality, he felt the price was in need of re-negotiation and it would get him off station for a while.
The only difficulty he might face in dealing with The Shadow Troop, a group of would be mercenaries, is not knowing enough about the leader. He needed some leverage to help with the negotiations.
He commented out loud, “Computer, locate and order Ganark to my office.”
A few Mizura passed before Ferans first officer stepped into the room, “You summoned me my Lord.”
Feran took a moment before answering as he savoured the respectful tone from his fellow Split, “What to we know about the leader of The Shadow Troop?”
Ganark sighed, “Very little my Lord. The station was originally run by a Teladi before they turned up. Unfortunately she died before we had a chance to question her.”
Feran said quietly and slowly, “That is, unfortunate.” In a harsh tone he asked, “Have we no spies on the station?”
The first officer replied, “They are very thorough in their checks and security is as good as anything we have here.”
There was a considered pause before Feran commented, “Then you shall have to try harder. We need to bring down the price of the weed in order to afford our commitment to new ships.”
Ganark gave a slight bow, “Yes my Lord.” After a momentary pause he added, “Will there be anything else?”
Feran allowed the other Split to wait as he examined his right arm. The blade in the artificial limb had not been drawn for some time and he wondered about putting it to some use, for personal pleasure, but moved aside the thought to gaze out at the stars, “No that is all.”
The Paranid, Korecmancketras, Station Commander of Tors’ Bakery in the Wall was coming to grips with the terms of the will. His brother Serandamancketal sat in the office sipping a Jijoglan Ale from the Paranid home world.
Korecmancketras asked, “So what if they don’t allow the guild to own the station?”
His brother replied, “Then Caran will see to it that it is sold.”
Pacing slowly around the Argnu hide sofas, Korecmancketras looked for some inspiration and asked slowly, “So can anybody make an offer?”
Serandamancketal replied casually, “Providing they are a legitimate and legal organisation or person. And that the offer they make is acceptable to the guild then yes. Why were you thinking of making an offer?”
The older brother commented, “Maybe.”
Responding quietly Serandamancketal said, “Well unless you are considerably richer than you look, I doubt you have the credits.”
Korecmancketras smiled and said, “No brother, but I know someone that does.”
Taking another sip of ale Serandamancketal commented slowly, “Yes, but first she has to somehow get her hands on it, before she can pass it to you. And that is still far short of what we could get for the station if we were to sell it to one of the other corporations.”
Considering the reply Korecmancketras said, “And what would you do with the money?”
With a brief smile Serandamancketal said, “Hold it in trust.”
The older brother commented slowly, “So you think he might still be alive?”
With a brief double blink of alternate eyes, Serandamancketal indicated his confirmation before saying, “We know he found the damaged gate and ventured beyond, it is a question of whether he could use it when the time came.”
Korecmancketras replied, “Then all you need to do is persuade Caran to let me have the credits. And should the need arise, we will have a management buyout.”
++++++++++++++++++
Serandamancketal sighed and said, “There may be another way.” Korecmancketras looked curious and waited for his brother to continue. The younger Paranid commented, “Caran showed me the names of both creditors. Only the second had not been located,” He paused to take a sip from his drink and then commented slowly, “The first is called ‘Sweety’ and is supposed to be onboard this station.”
Korecmancketras smiled and it gradually broadened, “Cunning little Kirrenfall.”
Serandamancketal asked, “You know this Sweety?”
Nodding the elder Paranid replied, “It’s this stations AI, well it would be if the original chip were here. But that makes no odds as it was copied onto another AI chip.”
Nodding slowly, then laughed at the irony that the station could now afford to buy itself, Serandamancketal commented, “That’s a new one, and I bet there isn’t a law against it.”
Addressing the room Korecmancketras said, “Sweety, it has come to our attention that you have a considerable number of credits in your own name?”
The voice of the copied AI, which responded in the silky tones of a Paranid female replied, “That is correct.”
Serandamancketal glanced at his brother and gave a curious expression, “You’ve been playing with the voice pattern, haven’t you?”
Replying with a shrug the brother said, “The other one was nice, but this is better.” He addressed the AI again, “We have a situation that you will have overheard. If necessary those credits you’ve been given may need to be used to buy the station and safeguard both our and your future.”
There was a long pause. The station AI replied, “I understand.”
Serandamancketal nodded, “Good. Korec, what about Nye? If Caran believes her to be somewhere nearby then he’s going to come looking.”
Taking a moment to consider the question, Korecmancketras gave a brief sigh, “She’s managed to keep a low profile so far. But I’m thinking she may need somewhere else to hide out for a while. I guess she’s not going to be welcome with your lot.”
Serandamancketal shook his head, “Not without a lot of reconstructive surgery and a new identity. Some may view the fact that as Tor is now officially dead then she is no longer protected by Creeds agreement.”
The older Paranid nodded and said, “It is fortunate then that she’s currently running errands in Paranid space.”
Nyeshta was flying fighter escort to one of Tors’ freighters in Priests Pity. A sector plagued by recent pirate activity. Two other fighters made a compliment of three Piranhas protecting a fully configured but slow Dolphin that was now shifting Majaglit to the trading station on a special commission. Once this delivery had been completed they were to rendezvous with the Teladi Bilyzonus at the shipyard in Trinity Sanctum.
In all there were three freighters working the Paranid sectors the furthest one from the Argon core sectors was based in Preacher’s Refuge. The comm opened and the pilot Taylan commented, “Picking up pirate raiders on long range scanners.”
She switched over the HUD to the scanner display and watched for a moment before commenting, “Current vector indicates they’re just passing through. Taylan stay close to me and we’ll cut some space if they do switch to intercept.”
Taylan replied, “Tagging to.”
The Piranhas turned and flew parallel to the Dolphin at twice maximum weapons range providing a defensive shield. The pirates altered vector away from the Piranhas and continued their journey. As they continued the journey she took time to reflect over the previous Argon year. She had spent most of the time flying escort in Paranid space under the instructions of Serandamancketal and Korecmancketras. This was after one incident where a pilot from the guild had become particularly drunk and there were death threats in the Colossus bar.
Now that Tor was officially dead the protection was officially over and it would only be a matter of time before one of the guild made an attempt, but out here she knew the other pilots had been carefully selected as either too new to know anything about her or were sympathetic to her plight.
Until the comm announcement and confirmation she had also assumed the fate of the freighters and escort fighters would be the same as that of the station. It came as a significant surprise when the ownership of the ships fell into the hands of a Teladi. The pilots were carrying on with business as usual but they were also uncertain as to their longer term fate.
She had run a quick check on Tarraganos Tetornenis Bilyzonus the second and established that she was the owner of an Ore Mine in Eighteen Billion supplying ore to the Shipyard in Ianamus Zura and other local Teladianium Foundries. Nyeshta considered that it would be a good hiding place providing this Teladi could be trusted.
The Paranid trading station loomed large and the Dolphin passed along the stations length to reach the docking bay entrance. All three escorts remained outside the station as this was just a quick drop. Once the Dolphin had launched they began the journey to Trinity Sanctum.
I was hoping the next story would start soon!
) or of course they didnt make the deadline and are stranded there 
, I am but the sum of my experiences… and today I am more than I was yesterday. 
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