Star Mercs Part 2: The Odysseus Gambit

If you missed part one click here. Otherwise Enjoy!

Diana sucked in a breath as the circular airlock whirled and released with a hiss that would have made a hydra proud. The inside of the mercenary run super yacht was not what she expected though she figured it made since that star trotting mercenaries might prefer a twist to the usual rich boy look these ships usually had.

A standard 890 Jump had bright hallways with a white cool light that was designed to put you at ease, and screamed luxury from every corner and deck. Not the Odysseus’ Gambit. The ship had dark black walls with harsh red light thrashing the air in a cool menace more akin to a damn Telvarin dropship than a cruise ship. Deep in the bowels of the beast Diana could feel the constant thrum of music with far too much base reverberating off the walls and her chest. Beneath the racket she could just sense the light eager hum of the engines maintaining the altitude of thousands of pounds of mercenary run, resort, beauty, and just restrained menace.

Dad had always said ships could speak to you. They shouted their names in the most quiet of whispers that only you, God, and the universe heard. The spirit of the machine that told you who the ship was before you ever flew her. The Odysseus was a predator at rest. A tightly coiled panther twitching its tail at every leaf or twig that snapped in her jungle domain. She wasn’t just a yacht, she was a beast, a warrior wearing a civilian's skin.

Diana licked her dry lips before smiling a full grin of ecstasy that could land her in an insane asylum for ship junkies. She’d never been on a monster like this before. Not even another 890 could compare to her, and even if these mercs did the worse, and she was jettisoned into open space for wasting their time, sensing the spirit of their cosmic stead almost made it all worth it. Almost.

“You better have more for us than the usual party boy who had a pirate spit on his mutt.”
Lutz’s voice broke some of the glamor the ship had cast over Diana mind. It didn’t completely dispel the siren’s call, but the cowgirl could function now without having a mad ridiculous grin on her face. That was progress at least.

“Lutz, you boys are expensive. A dog who can’t defend itself from pirate spit isn’t a dog worth keeping let alone hiring a platoon of hitmen to save its dainty little paws.”

The big mercenary grunted, and continued on steam rolling through the dark hallway with enough controlled power in each stomp to shatter a pretty boy’s spine. Lutz also didn’t seem used to escorting a lady with heels on let alone the deadly yet beautiful stilettos Diana was wearing. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been grateful for all those crash courses in edicate, and tricks for surviving marathon high class parties designed to shatter your feet by the end of the night her grandmother had bashed into her mind when Diana had been twelve. The cowgirl was greatful now though. 

The quick forceful clanki de clank of her heels keeping up with the oh so comfortable and practical boots of the mercenary could have easily turned into a horrid crash as she collapsed into a fabulous heep on the deck before they even reached the meeting. That was one way to be seen as inferior for negotiations that was for sure. The shoes had their pros and cons like any good starship. She might have words with her aunt about them, but now all she could do was soldier on or be left behind.

Diana was able to grasp a glimpse of eva suits, an impractical elevator shaft descending into darkness, and finally a sharp turn before the hallway opened up to a cavernous chamber reaching up three decks to massive skylights grasping at the final vestiges of the sunset. She’d seen pictures on all those fancy Origin sales magazines her family was spammed with every year, but those did little justice to the opulence on display. She’d seen fancier hotels, but none of those could rocket through the void. 

A thin glass door was all that was between her, and hundreds of rich party goers stuffed tighter than an Arcorp train during rush hour in the multi leveled chamber. The music slammed into her chest the second the door opened threatening to toss her on the floor, curb stomp all over her chest, and shatter her eardrums all at the same time. Flashing lights blinded her brainwashing her mind with their constant thrum. This was not her scene and the rancher was acutely aware of that fact as the crowd swallowed her in a sweaty mass that quickly destroyed her opulent hair and threatened to trample her. 

Just when she was about to reach for her pistol out of shere survival reflex Lutz grabbed her arm in a grip that could have shattered a starship’s hull, and pulled her out from the press and under the most impractical staircase Diana had ever seen. Who constructs stairs with no railings on a starship that can buck and roll on you? Origin designers that’s who. If they weren’t also obsessed with filling their designs with enough futuristic boomsticks to make a weapons dealer cry the cowgirl would’ve written off all of the pretty pasty white birds that emerged from the ship manufacturer as pointless city boy bait. Though right now, that opulent style over practicality could clearly have turn deadly considering the amount of young morons dancing wildly on black steps. That seemed like a great way to break your neck. 

With all the sensory overload Diana almost ran right into an octagonal shaped glass door her mercenary guide had practically tossed her through like a gorgeous ruffled sack of potatoes. Before she knew it the cowgirl was clacking across a real wood floor of a sauna. 

A sauna? In a starship? The wood alone was a luxury to a girl raised on an ocean planet with no natural forests. She also had a fleeting look at a Jacuzzi with a waterfall behind it farther down a side passage filled with scantily clad women and a few rich boys. Hard to believe that according to her uncle these mercs were hiding enough munitions, small arms, and cleverly disguised heavy ordinance under all this trust fund baby eye candy to force Leviski back into the Empire. Her uncle hadn’t lied to her yet, and if her guide was anything to go by things weren’t what they seemed. Still, she might have to see it to believe it this time.

“My love, do you miss me already? Can’t even wait an hour before tracking your wife down I see.” Diana almost jumped at the tall dark haired beauty who seemed to materialize out of the shadows purring in a sing song voice that made men and women swoon a like. This was clearly her mercenary guide’s wife who not only was clearly pregnant, but had a voice to make angels cry. 

The woman had pure magic in her vocal cords that could convince a raiding Vanduul his barbaric ways were not suited for his magnificence before Lutz ripped out the alien’s throat from behind. Diana swallowed when the woman’s eyes turned her way with enough ice to freeze her blood to a temperature so complete all motion within the various molecules that made up her body ceased all motion. That woman was not just a stewardess. 

Lutz’s wife’s eyes reminded Diana of Cassie’s pet lynx from the old world. Calculating, hunting, and always waiting to rip your face off. Some part of Diana knew she shouldn’t be surprised considering the muscle around here, but that cold kill you for tracking on her spotless floors look shook Diana more than the steel killer eyes of the mercs downstairs. She didn’t doubt for a minute that this death goddess was all business. Diana decided to let go of Lutz’s arm and take a meek step back. She knew a dominant woman in her domain, and crossing her would be a headache Diana didn’t need to have. 

The burly mercenary didn’t seem to notice now that he was engrossed in his wife’s presence though Diana did notice his eyes watching the room and the party brats with the same intense alertness. The cowgirl had little doubt what would happen the second any of these pretty boys was deemed a threat. What Uncle Marxious had told her about these people being killers came screaming back into her mind, and for the briefest of moments under the vixen's gaze Diana felt apprehension cloud her mind in a shroud so thick she’d need a foghorn to find her way back to the exit. 

“Kitty, you really think taking care of drunks, and this country bumpkin here is anything like being around you? Maybe we’ll get something more exciting than trash pirates for a change with this client eh?” And the intimidation spell dissipated as fast as it had consumed Diana. This crazy assassin looking lady was named Kitty? Diana felt her coy smile return as Kitty’s eyes turned deadlier if that was at all possible. With her brain out of the fog the death glare didn’t have half the effect over Diana. Still, this chick seemed the type to lock you in a garbage compactor and slap the on button without so much as defogging her glasses. Diana figured she’d better keep her guard up. 

“So you’re Lutz’s infamous wife? I’ve heard everything and nothing about you. How did you snatch up a man like this big guy anyway?” Diana grinned back at the withering look sent her way. She still felt the icy sting, but it didn’t paralyze her anymore.

“She threw a collar on him when he was drunk, and stole his youth and brains. Before anyone knew it old Lutz was shackled by morning. Kitty’s scary that way.” A joyfully carefree voice said from over Diana’s shoulder. The cowgirl almost regretted bringing her gun when her instincts nearly led her to blow the intruder’s brains out for sneaking up on her so thoroughly. That ninja stuff wasn’t welcome in normal circumstances let alone vulnerable in a cosmic nest ful of vipers. With some effort the cowgirl turned around to see a mischievous smile on a grizzled pretty boy growing into his middle aged shenanigan filled years. He was also dripping wet while only wearing a swimsuit and a soaked through white shirt showing off more muscles than any pretty boy should have.

His green eyes sparkled at Kitty and Lutz who both seemed to roll their eyes internally at the interloper in his sopping wet hair. Clearly he’d just finished up in the poo an act Diana imagined neither Lutz or his icy bride would ever conceive of doing while on the job. So this must be what passed for the customer service rep with these mercenaries, and that meant he had the odious job of partying with the customers. He clearly didn’t mind the perks.

“Ms. Diana allow me to introduce Mr. Drax. In the flesh.”

Drax grinned a dazzling party boy smile just marred by a scar cut deep over his left eyebrow. With a glint in his emerald eyes that ignored the death and destruction being wished upon him from Kitty the mercenary offered his arm all gentlemen like to Diana. Not that there was anything about him that screamed gentlemen to Diana, but when in Rome act as the Romans do and all that. She just hoped this didn’t turn into a game of hot potato with her as the overripe potato passed from merc to merc for hours on this purring luxury boat. She didn’t have time for endless games.

“Thank you Mr. Scalito. Go ahead, and enjoy some time with that helion you married. Just be sure to return to your post before Mr. Grerad is overrun by the spawn of hell out there. Is that understood by Scalito?”

“Yes Mr. Drax. I’ll try to not break any ribs today.”

“Oh you don’t need to be that nice Scalito. They like some danger. It's why they’re here. Hey Mrs. Scalitio there seems to be a problem with your face. You might want to look into that,” Mrs. Kitty Salitio looked about ready to pull out the very fancy brooch flower on her pristine black dress that wrapped tight around her pregnant stomach, and gauge out Mr. Drax’s eyes with it. But she didn’t. That told Diana scarface here was a big fish on this ship. Made sense. Uncle Marxious never seemed to have low ranking connections.

“This way cowgirl, I got a shortcut past the sweaty herd out front,” Drax said while gently leading her back into the hall as his eyes gobbled down every ounce of flesh Diana had to offer. Ah, now this was the kind of man she could deal with. He was none too shy about his interest, and clearly was used to women responding. Diana would have to be careful despite the obvious advantage that put her in. There had to be a reason why even Lutz deferred to him without complaint instead of ripping his face off and feeding it to the sharks.

Throwing his towel over one toned shoulder Drax led her dripping from the deck and to a pair of elevators between the saunas. With a wet slap he hit the button calling the glass tube from the bowels of the ship. Diana couldn’t help, but couldn’t several attractive very female skinny dippers just duck into what looked like a shower room from the main pool area. Diana had little now had little doubt why Drax was only wearing a swimsuit and was soaked. She shook her head in bemusement. Some people just had to mix their business with pleasure. Literally in this case.

The elevator opened letting the pair saunter in. Drax leaned against the tube shaped box and bumped a button on the console with his elbow without looking, sending them up the belly of the ship. He didn’t speak for a second which suited Diana since she hadn’t had time to read this character yet besides the fact that he was a ladies man, and even tough as nails mercenaries respected him. 

“The Secretary of Marketing and Communication for the Otello Farming and Mining Initiative as I live in breath. Welcome to The Odysseus' Gambit. The Captain's word is law around here, but you have to prove to me that you aren’t going to waste his time before we see him. The only reason why you’re talking to me is out of respect for Marshal Marxious.” the swirly light skinned mercenary crossed his arms towering over Diana both physically and mentally. The whole situation reminded her of whenever her father had dragged her into his office as a slacking teenager to his study for a “talk” about responsibility. Just as mortifying then as it was now.

“Money shouldn’t be an issue Mr. Drax. Uncle Marxious already told me your price.”

“Do we look like a pack of hobos with assault rifles girlie? We are selective, and your Uncle owes us not the other way around. The Captain is going to want something more substantial than credits. And before you ask, no I don’t know what it might be. He has his own way of thinking that I don’t always get, but I respect him nonetheless.” With that the elevator rested at the top of the shaft in a bustling mini food preparation area with bustling waiters who were clearly packing heat. The food didn’t look half bad either. 

“I’m sure the Captain and I can figure things out if you big boys think you can handle the job Drax, but you’ll have to convince me you won’t get us all killed before I even think of hiring you and your Catian.” Diana smiled sweetly at the flicker of annoyance that crossed the merc’s face. She was willing to bet not very many of their “clients” weren’t impressed by the ship, and properly cowed into submission. No shock and awe negotiation tactics would work on this farm girl. They’d all be slaughtered by space cultists if all they had were just fancy pants expensive mercenaries with high and mighty opinions of themselves.

“Right, the Captain will have the final say either way,” so saying Drax slapped another button opening the glass door and flooding the compartment with the hectic sound of kitchen space in full swing. Diana wasn’t phased till a massive Tevarin walked around the corner in a chef’s outfit. His avian features screwed into a fit of rage as he yelled in his own language pointing at her guide, and the elevator behind them with a knife that would make a samurai jealous. 

All Drax did was smile, and answer back in the bird warriors language which made the teveran clap its mouth shut like an angry bird slamming its beak down on a worm. With a frustrated grunt that came out more like a parrot’s whistle the eight foot alien turned on his heels to berate some of the waiters around them, his knife pointing at one flaw or another.

“Don’t mind the bird man over there. He gets antsy whenever somebody uses his elevator down to the main kitchen especially when we have a party on our hands. Takes his work as seriously as dropping troops in a Prowler. Oh, and don’t touch the food unless he or the waiters offer it. He’s been known to cut off fingers.”

Diana swallowed, and made a point to not look at all the mouth watering food that passed in and out of the tight compartment like a parade of irresistible sirens. That stuff was a trap. No one wants to get on the bad side of a Tevariin with cutlery at his disposal. Still, she was half way tempted to risk it after seeing a particular plate of mini quiches set with perfect crumbly crust, savory caramelized bacon on top, and a light spicy drizzle dancing across the mini bights of heaven. That alien could cook. Diana had to force herself to remember she liked having all ten of her fingers more than tasting delicious food.

Drax whisked them into the dining area where the tables were full of fancy patrons including Uncle Marxious who sat with a group of CEO’s, military types, and more than a few young ladies who were clearly not any of the men’s wives. Diana muttered a small prayer of thanks that none of the beauties of questionable character were dotting on her Uncle. Her aunt was not someone to take that kind of behavior lightly. 

Uncle Marxious nodded in her general direction as she passed not a care in his sun banked face. Diana was glad he was there. Somehow, she thought even these mercs might hesitate becoming persona non grata in at least four surrounding systems by abusing her with the Marshal so close by. Or that’s what she told herself.

Her mercenary guide ignored every fancy pants patreon there, and oddly enough none of them stared at his attire even if he dripped on them or when he stole wine glasses meant for an elderly mayor Diana had seen on the news net and his very young date with overly large udders. Drax also whisked up a couple of quiches after checking the kitchen door for the chef, and tossed one to Diana. At that moment Drax wasn’t a full of himself womanizing space mercenary, but a scantily clad muscly archangel sent from heaven. Diana’s mind must have been clouded after skipping a few meals to catch up on work before flying out here, but she didn’t care if she was trapped in a craving fog that was right out a eight month pregnant woman’s nightmares. That quiche was hers.

With a massive bite that made her uncle cringe Diana gave into her base nature, and ate the buttery, delicately fluffy, cheese filled goodness like only a girl raised by a miner turned Rancher can. The carmelized bacon’s tangy crunchy sweetness caressed her senses blending perfectly with the flaky butter flavored crust and egg. No one could take that moment from her even if she might have some spinach in her teeth. The good Captain would just have to accept that she was only so lady like in the end. Especially when you fed her.

Drax for his part laughed and handed her a napkin and another drink to wash down the food. Diana was grateful for that. Though, she was more sad to see the delicate quiche disappear so fast, but business was business so she got her game face on.

With that they walked behind a curtain beyond the shiny windows showing off the glowing jewel of Ergo around them. The first thing Diana noticed was how complete the separation from the party guests there was in this meeting room with its long funky shaped table. There was almost complete silence except for a scratching record player ebbing out a classical Bach from the Old Earth. That relic was priceless, and it was a miracle the ancient box still functioned. Collectors would have bought five of these 890 Jumps for just one of those contraptions.

At the far end of the table looking out the massive windows that surrounded the conference room showing off the glittering jewel masquerading as a planet sat a man smoking an ever so expensive looking cigar. Diana couldn’t see anything else, but his jet black hair since he was turned away. Still, she knew this was the Captain. Maybe it was the cliche smoking while looking out into the sunset bit, or the record player, or maybe even the man's sheer presence, but Diana knew. This was the man she wanted to hire. So far he had A plus in theatrics.

Drax slapped his way over to his side, and actually stood at attention for a second before the Captain waved him off with a lazy flick of his cigar that was careful not to splash ash over the pretty dark floors and soft blue light in the room. Diana’s other brother, one that wasn’t brainwashed by cultists, was obsessed with good cigars. The cowgirl knew when she saw good edicate. Now hopefully his skills leading his men in delicate operations matched his cigar practice.

“Done tasting the local fruits Kyle?” The Captain’s voice was a deep baritone that put all the announcers at the last rodeo she went to to shame. It was smooth, relaxing, and timeless almost as if unknown secrets of the ancients rested just beyond the sentences. It kind of reminded her of that Kitty down stairs. 

“Captain, you know me better than that. Filling me up isn’t that easy.”

“Hmm, just avoid getting any of our guests pregnant. You and Gortho give Kitty enough headaches to deal with, or at least, if you can’t handle that much, name the kid after me.”

“Face it Captain my first boy will be named after Emperor Messer himself, and be twice the man,” both men laughed or more accurately Drax laughed and the Captain went back to looking out the window, but Diana could imagine a smile on his face. She was about to walk around the table to check when the Captain bellowed in her general direction.

“Ms. Otello, take a seat. I’ve heard so much about you.” Diana put on her best winning smile as she took a seat on the far side of the table. The second her fancy dress covered butt touched the plush cushion a deep rumble burned through the ship, and before she knew what was happening the view outside the window gave her vertigo as the bow of the ship rose till they were rocketing straight into the sky. The void not far beyond. 

The inertial dampeners within the ship kept Diana from spilling into a bedazzled pile of cloth and make up on the floor, but she could still feel the mass of G forces deep in her guts. The mad imagery of the world rocketing away from her made the cowgirl almost lose her breakfast like a cadet on his first space flight. It was a different animal riding this beast into orbit compared to Betsy. Not only was it faster than she thought possible the oversized metal beast broke through the atmosphere and angled into the darkness with a grace that would put a swan to shame.

Neither Drax or the Captain seemed even remotely inconvenienced as The Odysseus’s Gambit banked revealing a view that made Diana suck in a breath. Ergo splashed before her in all its magnificence. Her home shimmering in the darkness of nothing. The cowgirl felt a silent whistle touch her lips before almost jumping out of her skin at the sound of explosions. She was about to panic when a pair of P52 Merlin Snub fighters rocketed past dropping fireworks designed to handle the nothingness of space instead of flares. They formed a ring of fire around the planet in a dazzling display of colors and serenity. 

She was confused by how she could hear the blasts in space when Diana spotted a speaker under the table, and a few behind her giving the audible portions of the show. The cowgirl was too busy enjoying the burning eye candy to even be impressed. These mercs sure put on a good show. Where had those Merlins come from? The long slick triangle shaped craft didn’t even have a quantum drive. They must have been close to pull that stunt off, and Diana hadn’t seen any outside the ship when she’d landed.

With a pass of another set of Merlins the fighters crescendoed their display with a mass of burning explosions that took on the shape of horses galloping through the ring of fire. Right as they looked like they would trample them the cosmic steads exploded in enough opulence to take Diana’s breath away. 

Before that last explosion faded the Captain turned around revealing steel grey eyes that shined in the night, a lightly grizzled beard with peppered grey, and old burn scars peeking out of his high collar on his perfectly tailored suit. Right then Diana knew that no matter how important this meeting was, or how much she needed to save her brother all she was going to be able to think about was how that man had pulled that move off so thoroughly. Was she swooning a bit? Yes, and she could admit it. Maybe it was all just a show, and these boys would fall apart the second the bullets started flying, but Diana doubted it. 

The last vestiges of the fires died out, dimming the reflection in the Captain's eyes as he started the meeting that would change the course of Diana’s life. Wether for the better or worse she figured it would be a wild ride either way.

Continued in Part 3

If your interested in Star Citizen here is an article you might be interested in: An Argument for A Mini Carrier in Star Citizen

And here is something new for you to try: Some Advice for the Would Be Writer

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