No Shelter Among the Stars

Chapter 9- Lieutenant Marshal Zero

Towers of crates were stacked in haphazard blocks. Some were marked as Syndicate goods, most had been rebranded, labeled with false markings from one of Black Mary's various front companies. C.V.s rolled through the twisted paths through the crates, cleaning litter and refuse from the concrete floors.

Sander waved Ilias to a marked point on the gray stone floor. His green eyes quickly adjusting to the dim industrial lighting. As the hoverlift lowered their sealed pallet into position, five men in pale military uniforms stepped around a stack of metal crates. Two carried slung scythes, they stood a little back, blue and green overhead lights glittered across the black gunmetal. Two approached on either side of the Lieutenant Marshal, hands on the auto cannons holstered at their waists.

Sander felt no real danger from the implied threat, and didn't bother touching his own weapon. Ilias climbed off of the hoverlift and the goons heavy stepped to sentry positions on either side of the shushed goods. He hoisted his weapon, adjusting the strap over his shoulder.

Lieutenant Marshal Zero smiled and spread his hands in greeting. His smile was easy and warm; his hands glittered with platinum and gold rings. He extended one hand to Sander, who took it in a firm grip and let go. Zero's eyes were hidden behind gold rimmed scanglasses that no doubt provided him with a steady stream of information across their one way red screenlenses.

"Sander!" said Zero, he turned, " and Ilias! My green-eyed sharks of the starlanes! All went well, I see." His dark hair was slicked back, gleaming against the jewel encrusted communicator cybersurgeried into his left ear.

"Yes," said Ilias, his combo-weapon, Selene, was slung, both barrels pointed at the ground.

"Not entirely," said Sander, at the same time.

Zero's smile faltered just slightly. "Something go wrong, Sander?" he asked, as two of his cohorts stepped forward to bust open the sealed pallet. The ones with scythes stayed at their posts.

"Lost our pilot," said Sander.

Zero's face fell. He slid a hand over his silver trimmed wrist cuff, like a man watching a funeral procession. "That is a true tragedy," he said. "There is no greater loss than that of a crewmember and a friend."

"Yes," said Sander, with a short nod.

Ilias coughed.

Zero glanced at the men checking the pallet. One of them nodded and Zero's face brightened. "But you still shushed the goods and accomplished your objective. Professionalism, even in the face of tragedy, nothing is nobler." One of his men handed him a data lamina, he nodded once and handed it back. "Medical counteragents and genetic template constructs. Worlds turn on this feka, boys." He turned and walked away, waving for Ilias and Sander to follow. "Come, but leave your H.K. androids," he said.

The goons stayed behind, Sander and Ilias followed as did the two men with scythes. Zero's other two men stayed behind, carefully unloading the cargo. More men in syndicate naval uniforms hummed forward on hover lifts with empty crates marked with identifiers from at least twelve different front companies.

"Your pilot...Syndicate troubles, I imagine?" said Zero, glancing at Sander as they walked.

Sander nodded and said, " A battle frigate intercepted us."

Zero flashed a smile. "But you still got away," he said.

"Of course," said Ilias.

"The boys with brass on their high collars," said Zero, pointing to his own, silver trimmed high collar, "are burning through credits trying to find a way to track a ship, once its passed through thin space and entered the starlanes. The reports cross my desk from time to time." He chuckled. "The research is going nowhere."