Anubis Station

[Crash Calestorm 0]

This log is set in our current Mirror Universe plotline...

 

Anubis Station was a civilian controlled outpost that catered to all sorts of travelers of the galaxy. Set on the edge of the Outer Rim territories, it was just far enough out and under the radar that the Empire left it alone. That could change one day, but for now, the sky was the limit and business was always booming.

 

Anything and everything was doable at Anubis Station. If you wanted to disappear, you came here. If you wanted to make yourself known, you came here. Supplies could be bought and sold, and information brokered. A night of pleasure or a rowdy night out could be engaged in as well, though it was wise to be prepared for any consequences; the occupants of the station tended to police themselves, and justice was swift.

 

Most of the station operations were run by a former mercenary captain who went by the codename of Shade. As individuals went, Shade was a pretty fair sort, though people who had been stupid enough to cross him tended to eventually disappear.

 

The ship had made port a few hours ago, and Captain Calestorm was currently waiting for a business contact by the name of Hayes Taylor. Her meeting area of choice was the Blue LeMatya, one of a dozen bars that serviced Anubis station. Most of the Hard Six crew had scattered across the decks of the station, though she could spot one or two of her own mingling among the crowd. Chris Pike was off to one side of the bar, appearing to drink alone at one of the single occupant tables, but was actually watching his wife’s back in case any funny business started. Several large screen monitors were scattered throughout the establishment, with patrons clumped around them watching either the sector wide news feeds or several sporting events that were currently ongoing.

 

Crash had seen several news pieces covering the death of Reed Mitros in detail, profiling the rebel leader; after a couple years of constant searching, Imperial Starfleet forces had finally taken him out. The Resistance fighters were now minus a leader, not that that mattered to her; she considered the rebels who fought the galactic government just as much a nuisance across the sectors as the Starfleet, especially when they -- meaning both sides -- blocked the shipping routes.

 

Cale’s concern stretched only so far as to find a crew, find a job, and keep the Hard Six flying.

 

Her mark entered the bar, with two associates. He looked the same, though like Cale had started to show gray throughout his hair. He visually cased the immediate area, spotted Calestorm over on the far side, and began to walk over towards her. The associates – one Andorian and one Tellerite -- went off on their own, though any fool worth their salt knew that they would be watching Taylor’s back as Pike was watching hers.

 

Hayes Taylor and Calestorm went way back, and she was the reason for that scarring on his nose.

 

She tracked his progress across the main floor area from her position at one of the double occupancy tables; when he had come close enough for the two of them to speak to one another without shouting, she spoke out loud by way of a sarcastic greeting and just managed to keep a straight face regarding the old joke.

 

“Hayes. How’s the nose?”

 

“Still crooked. How’s your ass?”

 

“Still a sore subject.”

 

She smirked good naturedly at him and Hayes responded in kind; he leaned across the table and the two shook hands.

 

Some thirty odd years ago, Taylor and Calestorm had been hotshot pilots assigned to the prestigious 24th Archmages flight wing, of the ISS Warlock. The two up and coming officers had been vying for the top gun spot in the elite flight squad. The month’s long tension and competition had exploded into a good old fashioned knife stickin’ dance late one night on the main hanger deck; Taylor had caught a slice across his nose, skewing the cartilage, while Cale got nailed across her right ass cheek during the fray.

 

CAG Coyote, being a bitch with a warped sense of justice, had promptly assigned the battered and bloody flight jocks to an early morning combat air patrol, injuries a secondary concern once the bleeding had stopped – for the most part – and wounds had been sutured. Hayes had been forced to contend with the helmet and re-breather rig over a tender nose while Crash had been more then a bit uncomfortable sitting in the cockpit.

 

The incident had eventually led to a torrid romance between the two junior officers, though romance was pushing it; the mutual attraction had been straight up primal sex.

 

Taylor and Calestorm had both moved on from the assignment, serving over the years on several tours and keeping in contact. After honorable discharges from the Imperial Starfleet, the two went to work as civilian contractors making a living working the sectors. While Cale had gone the route of the contractor captain, Hayes now made his living as a supplier with the buying, selling and transport of supplies: medical, general goods, fuel, and high end or hard to find items that were less common. She had contracted him to provide clothing, credits, travel papers, and general survival supplies for the Hard Six’s contract assignment to the Halkan sector.

 

Drinks were ordered, and the two comrades spent a few rounds reminiscing. Stories were traded, and old and new business was discussed according to level of importance.

 

“Good to see you Cale, it’s been a while. What was it…three years ago? That dust up with the Blue Nova mercenary troops?” His grin widened into a leer. “That was one hell of a brawl.” Taylor had made himself comfortable on the chair opposite Cale and rested his elbows on the table top.

 

“Aye, and from what I’ve heard, the Blue's still can’t get the same volume of recruits that they did in their heyday.” She snorted. “Their own damn fault, got what was comin’ to ‘em; shouldn’t have tried to tax the cargo lanes in the first place.” She slammed back the last remnants of her drink and then got the attention of one of the servers for a refill.

 

Taylor took a sip of his own beverage of choice, and then took the conversation onto other topics. “You hear about Banner? Left the Imperial Fleet, went independent captain; heard that he got awarded the Kelso Run?”

 

Calestorm almost choked on her whiskey. “ No sh*t? Why?! That dumbass can’t navigate his way outta the space dock, he never could. He probably bribed his way into the contract. On the ISS Regulator, he lasted as the CAG for six months before slamming his star fighter into the hull on maneuvers, crippled his weapons officer for life.” Her temper started to boil as she continued, “the only reason the lot of us stick jocks didn’t tear him apart once he got back down on the deck was because the deck hands stepped in and ran interference for him!”

 

Hayes waved his hand, placating her as much as he could. “Hey hey, take it easy Cale. Wasn’t tryin’ to set ya off, just wanted to update ya…I knew you had served with him is all, and thought you’d like to know. If it makes you feel any better, he’s not exactly rolling in jobs and credits; his crew is green, and employers aren’t rushing to take a chance on him.”

 

The two former officers continued back and forth for a little while longer, updating each other on the local news and gossip and such. After the appropriate amount of time spent talking about the good old days, Calestorm started to steer the flow of the conversation towards the business at hand; they’d already been jawing for an hour.

 

“You got my stuff?” She tipped her half filled shot glass towards him to accentuate her words.

 

“Yep. The crates are all set for loading. Lower Docking Area, C Section.”

 

“Good. I’ll wire the remainder of your payment as soon as I check out the stash and my crew loads it up on the Six.”

 

“Fair enough.”

 

“Where’re you operating?” Hayes cocked his head to one side in curiosity, and his tone held about the same.

 

“Halkan sector, more or less.” There was no harm in talking as long as she kept most of the details quiet.

 

“…a little close to the Empire.”

 

“Don’t matter; Imperial Command don’t have control of the sector.”

 

“Yet. They might soon – rumors are flyin’ on the ‘Net streams that Fleet Command’s been pressuring the Halkan Council for access to dilithium.”

 

Cale knew about this, and this was the main reason that the Xanar colony miners were getting out; with the negotiations going poorly with Empire Command and their home government under siege for not cooperating, the miners had sensed the change on the wind and had contracted out for a freelancer captain and crew to come in and get them out of Dodge so to speak.

 

“Still don’t matter Hayes. Me and the crew’ll be working the colony area. Money’s good.” It was best not to let on what she knew, old friends aside; the information could just as easy land both Hayes and Cale and their respective crews in a grave.

 

He continued to press the issue, with a bit of free advice thrown in for good measure. “…never figured you for the smuggling sort Cale.”

 

The truth was, she’d been smuggling for a good few years now, but Calestorm played it cool. “I didn’t say I was smuggling, I’m just delivering some high value goods per a contract, and getting paid to do it. That’s all there is to it Hayes.”

 

She didn’t mention the fact that payment details aside, the Xanar miners needed help and she and the ‘Six crew were in a position to do something about the situation. Not that the lot of ‘em were the goodie-goodie sort of ships crew, but they’d get the job done. If the money was good, then why the hell not take the contract and help some people out in the process? Win win situation and screw the Empire; Imperial Fleet Command didn’t pay her bills, at least not anymore.

 

“You always did do exactly what you wanted, never did listen to anyone else.”

 

“Your point?” She winked at him.

 

It was time for the two of them to move on, and Calestorm herself was looking forward to an evening out with Chris. The two merc captains finished off their drinks and then prepped to take their leave of one another, shaking hands in the process and confirming the business deal.

 

“Take care Cale.”

 

“You too Hayes.”