Chapter 7: Professional Reputations

Planet: Minov - City of Ghera

Residential Apartment Complex

Date of 241.08-18

Former politician of Krona, Greth Johan Martins, rubbed the screen a few times before sliding in a stick drive. The display before him sprang to life. Once input was verified, it made the connection specified and locked in a secure channel. The display fizzled from static to an image of a rather sleep deprived man.

“Well I'll be, look who the devil it is.” The man sprung alive with the promise of conversation. “You’re slow as dicks, no offense.”

“Come on, Vhesker, it hasn’t been quite that long yet.” Greth cooed, having a little fun with the man.

“Long enough for a few reasons, Martins. Not to mention, you're looking a little rough there yourself.” Turios Vhesker scratched his greying beard which matched the color of the Einstein hair style on top. “Regardless, are you still holding it all together?”

Shirt untucked, pants with a stain or two, orange jacket torn on the shoulder, and brown hair barely restrained in his ponytail. His beard and mustache were also in need of a trim. Indeed, Greth was not in his Sunday best.

“My sanity may have degraded slightly.” Greth pondered stresses as of late, some closer to home than others. One such being on Minov after multiple terrorist attacks and ensuing fallout. “Overall, I'm not bad off.”

“I'm not talking...ugh.” The creases on his forehead only got deeper, fingers massaging them in vain. “I meant ‘THE’ plan. Don’t forget, you have many debts to pay off.”

Greth adjusted his seat, the swivel chair more comfy than it looked. He tested the looseness of the axle. A little squeaky, but otherwise minimal resistance. The burning eyes of Vhesker eventually refocused his attention.

“Need I remind you, ‘MANY’, also includes me as well.” Greth leaned in, enough to partially block the window's glare behind him. “Anyway, I know you’ve been hearing the rumblings as of late. What have you heard about Linova?”

“Martins, first off, I know where you stand and all I’m doing is putting out a friendly reminder.” Vhesker put up his hands defensively. “I’m looking out for you, okay?”

“Sure, now get on with it.” Greth said with the laziest level of care.

“Linova was good, your boy came on through. I also heard that those miners know how to work fast and got quite a haul. Vorosh had some good insight.” He put on the glasses hanging around his neck and slid a tablet in front of him. “Now, I've got something else of interest if you're willing. Ready?"

Greth smiled with the glee of a kid in a candy store. "Of course."

Vhesker smiled. "How does a black site prison sound?”

“You have my undivided attention, honest curiosity.” Both elbows propped on the corners and fingers interlaced, the former politician resurfaced. “This better be good.”

“Always the best and never less, a life motto.” There was a sparkle in his eyes, a genuine pride in his statement. “You can thank a few loose lips for this one.”

“Said lips alive to thank?”

“Nope, figure of speech.” Vhesker shrugged, the glasses slipping a millimeter down his nose. “This prison, it's a site for those who the Coalition wants out of the way but are still potentially useful alive. I know a few names in there, some big names.”

“Vhesker, the wealth of information residing within those cells.” He raised an eyebrow. “We need to move quickly on this.”

“Agreed.”

Greth eyed a half full glass of hard whiskey from the night before. It sat teetering on the edge of a small dresser, the golden brown hue glistened in the light. He grabbed it, swished the liquid around a few times, and then downed it.

“What's the current status on the ‘Trident’?”

The ‘Trident’ was his pride and joy, his ace. Greth had put a lot of faith and finances into the ship, and a reason for debts owed. But all worthwhile ventures required an amount of risk.

“Still a work in progress, but maybe only a couple months or less left. A beauty nonetheless.” Vhesker touted. “She came together real nice, better than I could imagine.”

“Good to hear, I’m looking forward to the reveal." Greth toasted the empty whiskey glass. "I'll just have to wing it in some departments until the rest is completed.”

“That's the spirit, Martins.” He laughed, a little too bravado for Greth’s taste. “I won't bore you with the details this second. Instead, focus on getting your other assets in order.”

“You sound like you’re playing this close to the chest.” Greth hummed in amusement. “Usually, I'm the one who does that.”

“I'm not taking chances after our last team building exercise, no offense.” Vhesker normally did not hold grudges, but a Coalition Strike Force would change anyone’s mind. That incident was a prime reason to take a different approach to this whole thing. “I’ll be sending the file hard coded, be on the lookout.”

“Fair enough.” Greth relaxed back in his chair. “Is there anything else I should be made aware of?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with.” He offered a weak smile. “Let me know if anything goes wrong.”

The screen cut to black with a soft dying sizzle as the internal circuits cooled off. Greth sat in silence, contemplating his moves. A smart tactician always surveys the battlefield twice before making a decision, but he preferred at least three times to be safe.

That reminded him, he would have to figure out what to do with Vorosh at some point.

~~~

Crucis II - Haven’s Hold

Date of 241.08-28

The meeting went similar to the last time, new faces with the same result. First there was opposition, then a few interested, and by the end the majority ruled. Some probably felt the most patriotic to this damn sector than they had ever been. There were undoubtedly a few holdouts. Matt himself was not entirely convinced, but was baited enough to entertain the offer.

Who proposed said offer? The man walking in confident strides their way, Greth Martins.

Deja vu? In a way, Vorosh never really left…

“A nice show you put on, Mr. Martins.” Hobbes said with all the false praise he could muster, before dropping the act immediately. “I guess you can't change who you are regardless of time.”

“Some parts of us, no. But please, just Greth.” He leaned in with arms crossed and a weak smile. "I was told we had some small but serious muscle, which are you two I assume. Hobbes, correct?”

“Hmm, Lavernius Hobbes in full.” He stuck out his hand. “But stick to Hobbes.”

“Of course.” Greth sneaked a glance behind, as if looking for a quick exit. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to speak with you in a more private setting. You’re an integral part of all this.”

“Drinks in the town sounds worth a little bit of time. I need to get out of here already, hate formalities and such.” Hobbes sniffed the air with a look at Matt then to Greth, before a motion to the door. “Follow me, I know a place. The kid’s coming along too.”

They all left, letting Hobbes play the leader of the trio. The vibrant nightlife breathed around them, from restaurants to street locales and anything operating into midnight or later. Hobbes eventually brought them to the front of a sparsely filled diner named ‘Heaven’s Angels’. The owner went full overboard with the theme of the place. Matt had been here once before, and it was enough to get Jayne jealous. She did not like him surrounded by other scantily clad women more than necessary.

Above, the ceiling boasted a large hand painted mural. It was supposed to be a replica of humanity's creation. However, a multitude of naked women lustily draped around the man was suspect. The spaceships stuffed in the corner of it did little to argue otherwise.

Female waitresses wore sleeveless short risque dresses white as an angel, with as much flesh showing as possible. The bottom of the dress stopped at mid-thigh or slightly higher. Knee-high socks were the only other clothing to cover skin. On each back was an attachment projecting holographic angelic wings in a variety of colors.

“Just take a seat anywhere and I’ll be with you soon.” A sweet young feminine voice said, the pink wings fluttering majestically behind her. “Shouldn’t be much of a wait, boys.”

“Will promptly do my dear, and thank you kindly.” Greth replied.

The waitress hustled off to the back room, a meaningful stride in her hips. Matt had to hold his mind back for a second. There was an empty table near the door to which they laid claim. Matt was about to grab a chair facing the door until Greth’s hand stopped him, grabbing it out from under.

“Sorry, but this one’s mine. I prefer to always face the door when out in public.” Greth gave a wry grin. “Call it nervous habit, a precaution for the worst case scenario.”

Matt yielded, and with a ho-hum shrug grabbed another chair. The rest of the patrons were deep into their own business. One rowdy group cheered on as a guy grabbed a waitress and playfully held her hostage. He then kept slipping his hand up her legs while she played along, giggling each time.

“It’s interesting seeing that of all people, you’re the one Vorosh pulled out of the abyss.” Hobbes’ voice pulled Matt back to their own table. “Based on your reputation, figure you for more of a for-profit only kind of person.”

“Reputation does usually precede, but also be misconstrued. Vorosh, well let’s say, he had good judgement when we met.” Greth chimed gleefully. "But curious about the stories you've heard?"

"The usual, I assume." Hobbes carelessly spun a circular finger. “I'm willing to bet I'm near the mark. We're creatures of habit, for better or worse.”

Matt sunk into his chair. Unfortunately, the rounded knobs in the backrest proved to be more for show than ergonomics. However, he made it work like he usually had to do with everything else.

“To be fair, there’s a potential profit in anything if you look hard enough. No thanks for the benefit of doubt.” Greth refuted, unphased by implications. “You know, of all the people in that room, you’re by far the most promising. The rest of those stiffers play by the book, thinking too normal.”

Kick everyone else down when they aren’t present, good strategy Greth…

Matt stuck to his silent observations as he watched the show. Sarcasm aside, the two of them sat on the edge of tension. A butter knife might have been able to make an incision. Neither showed any visual mannerisms, but they carried subtle undertones aimed at each other.

“Knowing your history, that's not much of a compliment.” Hobbes spat back. “You had a heavy involvement with Krona, somewhat of a guiding hand others might say. And now a brewing conflict has you clawing to get involved. Am I missing anything?”

That sounds a bit more than reputation. Maybe that twitching back in the room was more than a show?

Matt's eyes followed the volley of words back and forth.

“Say or accuse?”

“I’ll let you decide.” Hobbes quieted down as their server approached, offering her an improvised smile. “Feelers, only want to know your intentions.”

The holo-wings swayed back and forth with the same grace as her hips, moving in a seductive rhythm. Greth’s eyes never veered from Hobbes while he gave his order. She thanked them and left, Matt’s eyes taking advantage of the perfect rear view.

He would probably pay for his sins later with Jayne.

“From my perspective, the better joust is why the hell are you around?” Greth leaned forward and rested both arms on the table. “I don’t know much about you, jack shit honestly, but what little I do know suffices. Why not stick to that cushy retirement plan, or trying to make up for your failings as an officer?”

“That gig?” Hobbes leaned in to match Greth, in posture and tone. “I don’t know, maybe boredom of the routine. After Linova, I feel like the retirement lifestyle doesn’t suit me.”

“Hmm, that so? You aren’t exactly a spring litter, old man.”

Here were two people past their prime of life. Yet before each other, somehow they discovered the fountain of youth supplied by the opposite's presence. Matt honestly enjoyed this intellectual mud slinging. On a related note, it was also nice to know that Hobbes’ age was also noticed by others.

“Older maybe, but wiser than a bought and sold government official.” Hobbes relaxed again in his chair, backing down for now. “I heard enough from the inside, information that puts you in a negative light regarding Krona. But I guess nothing was ever officially confirmed.”

Hobbes was right, Krona keeps refusing to die. Ironic considering its current physical state…

“Contrary to the record, there is a beating heart in here. Agreed it may be corrupted, but it’s there.” Greth softly patted his chest, yet his smile was the most fabricated bullshit Matt had ever seen. “Politics is a nasty business and unfitting with your combat first mindset. No offense to your capabilities, respectfully, but you excel in your element as I do mine.”

“Thanks for the compliment, I think.” Hobbes propped his head in one fist, cheek squished upward. “Though, is that a denial or acceptance?”

“It’s an acknowledgment that history is what it is, history.” Greth leaned back into his chair, the material creaking under applied pressure. The ruckus of the establishment was pushed to a minimal background nuisance as they were all but center stage at this point. “I want to look towards the future.”

The waitress made her way over and quickly emptied her tray before leaving. The glance at Matt told him she could feel it too, and wanted no part of it. Once gone, Greth lowered his head back to table level from his prior ceiling gaze. Hobbes greeted his look with a laugh. It was forced and unnatural, and not the Hobbes that Matt usually knew.

"Here you are, Greth Johan Martins, a humble politician of the people." Hobbes bobbed his head as he spoke. “You want to erase the whole goddamn Mercantile Coalition for the greater good. Is that the idea?”

“And your point?”

Until now, Matt had been ignored by the other two. So he took the opportunity to dive into his food. Hobbes continued the entertainment as he ate.

“I guess I'm just looking for proof that I can safely turn my back on you.”

“Call my past what you want, but I want to see the Coalition fall as much as Krona did.” Greth cocked his head like a disapproving father. “Forgive me for covering all my exits thoroughly. Business is business, nothing personal.”

Greth no longer carried his carefree attitude that he had shown most of the night. His eyes narrowed and his tone shifted lower, continuing his rhetoric with a steadfast conviction.

The words of a prophet blessed by the grace of God…

Matt’s observation was almost too on the nose. Greth’s words were razor sharp, being spoken by a man with unheralded resolute demeanor. This was the epitome of fanaticism in some people’s eyes and hope in others. If this sector truly was a powder keg waiting to go off, then he may as well be the primer.

“Understand that I don’t do this on assumed private ambitions. All pieces are in play and the unreachable can now be obtained. Internal squabbles within the Coalition have intensified, further disrupting any cohesion. And not least of all, I haven’t been as out of touch as you think.”

Some might beg to differ…

“How do you plan to spur the troops, might I ask?” Hobbes relented, his body rested again on the table for support. “This sector is not gonna bow down on command, definitely not to you.”

“The capital warship didn’t win you over?”

“Unless you have a deactivation code for the Orbital Defense System around Hestia Prime, then the only reality we will see is either death or prison for life. The Coalition will defend their home turf to the death.” Hobbes pinched his temple a few times over. “The bottom line, they can make that planet a fortress.”

At this point, Matt had almost forgotten where they were. Everything outside of this conversation was meaningless distractions. Hobbes and Greth stole the show and anything nearby, keeping his full attention.

“You worry too much.” Hobbes' eyes narrowed but he held his tongue at Greth’s words. “Then again, that didn’t stop you on Linova.”

“What are you getting at?”

“You seem to have an issue of faith, and I don’t mean from on high. Vorosh is out for a bit and now I'm in.” Greth replied grimly. “Your former guarantee has turned into a wildcard of sorts. The question you have to ask yourself, son, is do you run with the joker or walk away? It’s your call.”

That’s a lot of faith to be had in one person, but then again…

Matt mulled his own weighted decisions as he pushed his empty plate back.

“I'm sure you're aware. General Viktor dirtied his hands during that conflict, and time revealed some of his secrets. I wonder what skeletons will be revealed about you.” Hobbes finally picked up his utensils and went after his plate. “Let me be clear, I won’t stop your involvement. However, I will not stand aside and let you guide others down a road of ruin for personal gain.”

“Are you their self appointed guardian?”

“Maybe I am.” Hobbes smirked at the thought. “Whether this be for the good of mankind or for your own damn cause, I’ll be watching your ass.”

So be it. If Hobbes was in, then he and his team were as well…