Thief's Choice

Thief’s choice

~a Rojad Olan story~



PROLOGUE



        Rojad Olan had never been one to worry too much about being in a sticky situation. Things had a tendency to work themselves out in the long run. At least it did in his experience. One        only had to keep a cool head and have a bit of nerve, that’s all. Of course, if a little underhandedness was in order to get an upper hand, then so be it. Citizen Rojad ironically had a knack for getting into trouble whether he planned to or not. Being a master thief, getting a tad too friendly with the ugly twin sister of good fortune was stock and trade of the business. He lived with what fate dealt him and, if truth be told, had grown to love the unexpected. It was what kept the whole game interesting. Interesting was good, right? But then, the ancient Chinese had a curse about that, didn’t they? He didn’t know it at the time, but things were about to get very interesting indeed for him.
        Rojad was having a few celebratory drinks over a successful and rather lucrative job in an exclusive, and unauthorized, club in a lower level of the station. At the table with him were his partner Katlan, the two con-girls used for distraction in the operation and the freighter pilot they’d contracted to move the goods. It was situated at the back of the small lounge area set aside for those not willing to expose themselves to the hazards of the dance floor. The audio screen shielding the lounge blessedly dulled the pounding of the A-Belt Honky-tonk. One of the girls was starting to get along very nicely with Rojad. She’d expressed a fascination with tall, dark, men. After a few drinks and much thigh stroking, she had whispered in his ear a few of the bedtime activities she was quite fond of engaging in. The others at the table were engrossed in some techno babble Rojad was glad not to be a part of. Tech and the thief had never gotten along.
        Katlan sat across from Rojad and was pushing a tall glass hemorrhaging whiskey over its brim his way when a shadow eclipsed the table. The figure causing this unwelcome anomaly was standing behind him and couldn’t be identified directly. The look on Katlan’s face once her vision focused over his head was enough of a clue for him to guess a name. Katlan was a sweet kid and had smiles for almost everyone she encountered. The expression of utter disgust she wore now was reserved for only one person. Of course, the glazed hungry look of the woman, who was up until a second before wooing Rojad, was a big hint as well.
        ‘You mind not standing between me and the fluorescents, Yeoman?’ Rojad said over the rim of his glass. ‘Plus, I don’t like people standing where I can’t see them. Professional trait, you understand.’
        Rojad heard the man remove himself from his blind spot. The thief turned as the man brazenly took the seat to his right. The freighter pilot served as a passable buffer between Katlan and the newcomer.
        Dwight Yeoman…. he was a reliable Info Fencer and Rojad had used his services many times. He was Earthborn and damn proud of it. Also, he and Katlan had been married at one time. It didn’t end well. Yeoman seemed to have an inability to keep his cock holstered in the private company of women that weren’t his wife. There was one truth the thief had discovered over the years. It was the secret to his success: Every man has a certain thing that they just can’t resist. For some it was drugs. Others can’t stop betting on the races or the wheel. Yeoman….well, he probably was unlucky enough to have the one vice that will get a man into serious trouble quicker than assassinating the Sector President. What made matters worst was the unarguable fact that Yeoman was the most handsome man you’re likely to ever meet. He exuded charm and charisma. What Katlan saw in him, Rojad never knew. Any fool can tell you not to ever trust a ‘pretty boy’. Rojad guessed she would have to chalk it up to a learning experience. ‘So how is the dynamic duo this fine station evening?’ he said as he spread his grin between them all like honey on Centauri bread. His gaze lingered on the two females, as they were new prey and he hadn’t had a chance to stick it to them before now. He had them hook line and sinker with that stare of his. Rojad was ready to sock the guy, and judging by the pilot’s sour look, so was he.
        If truth be told, the thief kind of admired Yeoman’s swaggering attitude and nonchalance. He would never tell Katlan this, of course. ‘What do you want, then?’ Katlan’s voice was devoid of any emotion. ‘Haven’t you some mindless ninny you can go shag with about now?’ one corner of her mouth curled up to reveal a sharp canine. Her eyes were glazed with booze and had a dangerous glint to them. Rojad would have to watch her.
        ‘It’s good to see you’ve moved on with your life, Kat’ Yeoman’s smile barely wavered. He turned to Rojad with an expression that all men understood. ‘So Rojad…’ he continued smoothly over Katlan’s suggestion to allow himself to get pushed out an airlock. Naked. ‘I have some info I thought you would be interested in.’
        He reached for the much diminished bottle of spirits only to see it dragged to the far side of the table by Katlan. “You’re kind of ruining our celebration here, kid. Can’t it wait?’ Rojad didn’t appreciate his cock blocking and was really looking forward to relaxing for a couple of months with the haul they’d pulled in on the last job. ‘Maybe come see me a few days, ok?’
        ‘I don’t think this can wait, my man’ He was all of a sudden very serious.
        ‘What do you mean it can’t wait?’ the thief asked gruffly. He was getting pissed their little party was starting to cool down.
        Katlan leaned across the pilot and slammed her tiny fist on the table. Glasses bounced and the bottle had to be rescued by a con-girl’s quick grab. ‘Here now! You heard the man. Bugger off, you bloody right bastard. You’re not wanted here!’
        Rojad was sure the con-girls would have disagreed. ‘Calm the fuck down, Katlan! I came here to talk to Rojad, not you. Mind your business.’ Rojad could see that Yeoman was starting to lose his cool, too. They were glaring at each other so intently that the rest of us became extremely uncomfortable. The energy between them was palpable.
        ‘I told you that you’re not to come within visual range of me! I’ve a mind to cram that beaming smile down your bloody throat, don’t I?!?’ She made a show of rising from her seat (albeit a tad wobbly). Katlan may be an electronic whiz and a small woman to boot, but unlike most El-Ws, she wasn’t a weak little sissy girly-girl. No matter how her neo pop outfits made her appear, she was not to be messed with. She had done two tours in the Galactic Forces Counter Intelligence division and was as tough as nails. Hell, even Rojad was afraid of her sometimes.
        Yeoman leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. His wrist glinted with a panic band. Katlan also had a hidden implant that would alert the station if both their biometrics paralleled each other at a violent range. He had taken quite a beating from Katlan the third time she caught him with another woman. The authorities had warned her that if she harmed him physically again she would be jailed. ‘What? You think that I haven’t knicked the bloody kill code o your bit of coward jewelry? I could snap your fucking neck and the station wouldn’t hear a peep, old son!’
        Rojad could see Yeoman’s shoulders tense with the threat. Katlan was just drunk enough to do something that stupid. Yeoman and Rojad both could see the signs; they’d each known her that long. ‘You’re drunk, fem. You don’t want to do anything you’ll regret later.’ Yeoman said calmly, although his eyes had the look of Pojian prairie rodent catching a predator’s scent.
        The con-girls took this as a sign to become scarce. They could tell there was a shit load of history here and didn’t want to get caught in it. They made a quick exit as they said their good-byes and grabbed their jackets. The pilot also grudgingly stood to go. He reminded the thief of the departure time for his launch, downed the last of his whiskey and handed a passkey card over to Katlan. She looked at it blankly for a moment, but then turned to the pilot’s disappearing back and promised him that she’s be at the hanger within the hour to set up the launch scanner jamming device in the freighter. He waved an affirmative as he walked beyond the audio screen.
        ‘Way to go, Kill-joy.’ Rojad said to Yeoman. He gave Katlan a swift warning glance to calm down. Her eyes slid away from Rojad’s and he took that as a confirmation she understood and was going to play nice.
        Yeoman shrugged an apology. ‘I didn’t know it would go down like that, man. I just wanted to pass on some juicy Intel to you, is all’. He fumbled inside of his real leather coat. It had about a dozen pockets and it took a few failed attempts before he was able to produce the target of his search. He placed it on the table between the thief and himself.
        It was a data clip. Shiny new and its content light winked like a tease Rojad couldn’t resist. He picked it up and felt the heat still remaining from Yeoman’s touch. ‘What’s that, then?’ asked Katlan grudgingly. ‘And how much will it cost us?’
‘Listen to it,’ he nodded at the data clip in Rojad’s hand ‘and then tell me what it’s worth to you.’
        Rojad pulled the data reader from his belt and placed the clip into an empty slot. He keyed the data stream to narrow permission and activated passive virus scan. Yeoman was an ok guy, but Rojad didn’t trust him. He trusted no one with anything directly involving his well-being, with the exclusion of Katlan. ‘It’s on the up-and-up, Rojad.’ He was insulted Rojad was taking such precautions.
        Nodding, Rojad hit the play button. He had already done his set-up, anyway. The volume was high enough for him to hear it, but didn’t reach much farther. It sounded like a DIRT transmission to station launch.  It droned on with what sounded like uninteresting jabber for about two minutes. ‘What the hell, Yeoman?!? What’s this shit?’ Rojad said about to press the stop button. Katlan couldn’t resist any longer. She took up residence in the chair across from Yeoman and took the data reader from Rojad’s hands.
        Rojad turned to Yeoman. He was trying very hard to talk himself out of smashing the bottle over Yeoman’s perfectly coiffed head. Yeoman saw the look in Rojad’s eyes and said hurriedly ‘keep listening, man, keep listening….’ Rojad was just starting to explain the ways he was going to prove a man can live with his limbs pulled off when Katlan of all people pulled urgently on his shoulder.
        ‘Forget that shite, mate! This is some serious business!’ She held up the data reader like it had suddenly spoken with God’s own voice. ‘The bleeding DIRT wants you for questioning, Rojad. The bleeding DIRT, mate!’
        Rojad’s mouth hung open. ‘What?!?’ He asked stupidly. Katlan pushed the device at him. ‘Listen for yourself, mate.’ She rewound the recording and raised the volume several octaves. Launch Command was talking to the navigator of a cruiser. Rojad concentrated to filter through the techno mumbo-jumbo to understand the core of the conversation.
        ‘Launch Command we receive…confirming approach vector of 675 to berth 82. Over’ came the voice of the cruiser navigator.
        There was a second of static followed by the bored reply of the Launch Command operator. ‘That is an affirmative vessel 392984FWQ. Approach vector is 675 to berth 82. Over’.
        A new voice came on the communication circuit, overriding the cruiser navigator’s reply. ‘Launch Command, this is Investigator 1st Class Raj Mohamed of the Dominion Investigation and Resolution Troubleshooters. I will require your Station Security Chief’s presence at the berth upon my team’s arrival, as well as an immediate lockdown of all departures. Do you copy? Over’.
        There was a long silence on the circuit. Finally a new voice came online. ‘Vessel 392984FWQ this is Launch Command Executive Officer Roche Mallard. Under whose orders are we supposed to do this thing you ask of us?’ The Launch Exo’s manner was as stiff and imposing as that of the Investigator’s. ‘We cannot just shut down all egress on some DIRT whim’.
        ‘Oh, I have sufficient authority, Mr. Mallard’ grated the investigator. ‘Please do validate the following code directly from the sub sector governor’.
        A few minutes of additional silence followed. Rojad didn’t even think to fast forward the recording, he was so riveted. Katlan and Yeoman didn’t attempt to remind him that he could, either. His palms were sweaty and he felt a headache starting to manifest itself. Those minutes seemed like years, but the Launch Exo eventually came back online. ‘I…ah…am sorry for my earlier rudeness, Monsieur’. The Exo’s tone was completely different now. He sounded scared out of his boots. ‘We will give you all the assistance you require, Investigator Mohamed’.
        ‘In that case, I also want a station-wide search for one Citizen Rojad Olan’ said the Investigator. ‘He is wanted for questioning, so I want him alive. Do you understand ? Over’.
        ‘I....we understand, Investigator. It will be done! Over’ the Exo quickly assured.
        ‘Good. I will give further instructions to the Station Security Chief when I arrive. Vessel 392984FWQ signing out, Launch Command.’
        Rojad didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he felt his lungs begging for release. The air escaped his mouth in a nervous hiss. He was stunned, his mind racing a parsec a minute. What did the DIRT want with him? Did he “liberate” something that was Government property in the last little while? He tried to think back through the jobs of the previous year or so. Nothing came to mind. He and Katlan always made sure that they only operated in the private sector. Military and governmental jobs were always more trouble than they were worth.
        Rojad looked at Katlan. He could see that the same wheels turning in her head--or maybe not. She turned to Yeoman. ‘What your game, Dwight? You could probably make quite a bit of cred with our whereabouts. Why come to us instead of sellin’ to the DIRT?’ Katlan’s eyes were narrow with suspicion.
        Yeoman raised his hands defensively. ‘Whoa there, Kat, whoa! Two reasons why I would come to Rojad before anyone else: Number one is that if they get their hands on you I may come up in the investigation. My work depends on a low profile. I can’t charge as much if my face is too well known, you get me?’
        ‘Yeah, right….and what’s reason number two, then?’
Yeoman sighed patiently. He looked Katlan directly in the eyes. ‘I thought that would be obvious.’ He replied. ‘I don’t want you to get hurt, Katlan. The DIRT doesn’t treat ex-military criminals with a soft touch. You know that.’
        Rojad glanced at Katlan out of the corner of his eye. She looked shocked. ‘How much, Yeoman?’ Rojad asked. ‘What do you want for this info? I can only assume your soft spot for my partner doesn’t go so far as to provide a discount?’
        Yeoman shrugged and pulled his multibox from one of his pockets. ‘Business is business, Rojad.’ He said as he made some calculations. ‘Let’s see….5000 creds for the information. Another 500 creds for exclusive access to the information provided. I’ll charge 1500 creds, for my exposure to potential danger and incarceration, for a grand total of 7000 creds.’
        ‘You’re a saint, Yeoman. A real saint with a halo, wings, and all.’ Rojad muttered. Katlan was still speechless next to him. She was studying Yeoman like a Zeno-biologist at a freshly uncovered alien excavation site.
        Yeoman put away his multibox. ‘Come on, Rojad!’ he said with exasperation. ‘You know I could get three times that amount from the DIRT.  Not to mention a nice tidy sum for contract work from them if I convinced them I’m the best Info Fencer this station’s got.’
        Katlan cleared her throat. ‘He’s right, Roj, on both counts.’ She signed and looked like she had a bad taste in her mouth. ‘There’s no reason he shouldn’t be smoozin’ with the DIRT right now’. She reached into her vest with a swift, jerky motion.
        ‘Listen, Katlan, I’m telling you that—‘ Yeoman retorted quickly. He was sure his ex-wife’s hand would be reappearing with a maser pistol.
        The El-W’s small hand slammed down on the table with the bang of metal on metal. Yeoman flinched, his eyes wide with fear. So did Rojad. Her hand pulled way slowly to reveal two worn chips of platinum. ‘8000 in universal currency’ she said quietly.
        Now it was Yeoman’s turn to look stunned. ‘Kat…’ he whispered. He hand hovered over the chips but slid down to cover Katlan’s.
        ‘The extra 1000 is for your assurance you won’t sell this conversation for at least 36 hours’ she said not looking at him. She pulled her hand from under his and stood up. She looked at Rojad, who was trying his best to become invisible during the whole interaction between the two. ‘We should go, mate. We can get that pilot to drop us off at the next sector station.’
        ‘You don’t have to go, you know.’ Rojad replied. He had been partners with Katlan for a long time and didn’t want to part with her. He didn’t want her caught up in whatever the DIRT had in store for him, either. ‘They’re after me, not you, Kat.’
        His partner snorted as she headed for the lounge entrance. ‘And just what do you think they’ll do to me if they catch me, hmmn? Ask me for tea and crumpets and a nice bit of talk about the Emperor’s three wives?’
        Rojad and Yeoman sat silently for a moment, looking at Katlan’s disappearing back. Then Yeoman turned back to the table and pushed the platinum bars back to Rojad. ‘Keep the creds, Rojad’ he said. ‘Just promise me you won’t let anything happen to her. She’s the only thing I truly love in this world.’ He reached for the bottle and poured himself a stiff drink. ‘You better go before I wise up and change my mind.’
        When Rojad left the club he found Katlan standing in the darkened doorway of a heavy machinery distributor across the causeway. He reached out to her, hoping to convince her to change her mind about going with him. She shrugged off his touch.
        ‘Shut your damn gob, mate…don’t even bother to waste your breath, you hear? I was getting sick and tired of…this whole place, anyway.’ She turned and started towards the nearest lift tube. ‘Always hated this bloody station, didn’t I?

===================================

        Dwight Yeoman sat alone at the table, deep in thought. He was running numbers and scenarios in his head, juggling the risks and advantages like a deep space navigator plotting a series of jumps without computer assistance.
        If he was really heartless and cold blooded he could stand to make about 200 000 credits just by handing over the berth number of the smuggler Rojad had just met with. That was enough cred to get him into the core systems on a nice technological planet. He’d always wanted to get back to Earth and start up a legit company. Show those cits back home that he wasn’t just a no-good black marketer. It would be so easy. All it took was a call. But could he live with himself if sold out his ex-wife to the D.I.R.T.? Would any amount of money sooth his conscience? How badly did he want to get back to Earth? He know that there was really one thing he could do.
        He took out his comm-box and cycled up the security service number. On the third ring the line was picked up. “This is the Security Services, Officer Martin speaking. How can I help you?”