“Mr. Carter,” Surber says as he walks toward me, holding out his hand. “Nice work today.”
I hold up my hand to show the wine I’ve made from crushing koobs all this time. He nods and drops his arm, and then looks along the column.
“Nice work… although I’m a little surprised you haven’t managed to clear out all the vehicles.”
I pull off my ballcap and wipe my brow with the back of my forearm. “Yeah. It’s hot. Another five minutes and we’re golden.”
His face expressionless, Surber says, “In five minutes we’re already moving.”
He snaps his fingers and calls for one of his bodyguards, not bothering to look over his shoulder at the man. “Errol.”
The guard stoops down into the sled and mumbles something to the driver. A moment later the trunk opens. Errol goes around and pulls out a small shipping box. He brings it to Surber.
“What’s this?” I ask.
Surber smiles. Not in the friendly way, more like he’s amused at what he’s going to say next.
“Can’t wait to open your presents, Carter?” He looks around at my crew. “Patience is a reward all in itself. Wear these.”
Surber digs into the box and begins to toss what looks like silk clothing at each of us. I catch mine against my chest. Easy, Abers, and Lashley just let it hit the dirt as a rumpled pile.
Winters unrolls his and holds it out. “Koob clothing?” he asks.
Surber nods and then pulls out his own Kublaren robe and begins to put it on. It looks more than a little ridiculous hanging loosely around his suit.
Lana is still examining her robe. “All due respect, Mr. Surber, but you can’t believe that this is going to allow us to pass as Kublarens.”
“Of course not, Miss Romnova.” Surber looks around. No one else has moved. “Put them on. Hurry up.”
“Man,” Abers says, disgust evident in his voice. “I came out here to shoot koobs, not dress like them.”
Easy is already pulling his robe over his head, as is Winters and Lana. But he stops and brings his arms back down, the robe wrapped around them.
“C’mon, man,” Easy implores his fellow Marine. “Just embrace the suck and let’s do this.”
“Nah,” Abers says, shaking his head. “I didn’t sign up for crap like this. Find someone else, Surber.”
He tosses the robe back towards the man. It’s intercepted by Wick before it has a chance to fall at Surber’s feet.
I haven’t put mine on yet; it’s rolled up, ready to go over my head. But I freeze just like everyone else when I see what Abers did. I can’t really envision a scenario where this ends well.
Surber claps his man Wick on the shoulder, apparently commending him for the catch. Then he walks straight to me.
“Difficult group you have here, Carter.”
I shake my head. “Sir, it’s not that. It’s just—”
Surber turns.
“Elias Aguilar,” he says. Walking towards Easy. “Republic Marine for eight years. Multiple combat citations for valor. Even a Senate Star—back when there was still a Senate.”
Easy doesn’t say anything. I can see that he’s clamped his jaw shut. Just to make sure.
“Mr. Nilo understands why you left the Marines—things were going down hill rather swiftly once the Legion initiated Article Nineteen. But all things considered, you probably should have stayed in.”
Surber gets right in Easy’s face.
“Currently in debt to the ownership group at New Cassio Royale for three hundred and sixty-six thousand credits. With interest compounding daily. Mr. Nilo has generously negotiated a buyout on your behalf in exchange for your skills, Mr. Aguilar. But that investment is only as good as your word.”
Surber looks Easy up and down. “Finish putting on the robe.”
“Yes, sir,” Easy says. Quietly.
I can feel the sense of shame he feels from having his secrets outed like this. I had no idea. Probably no one else did either, except maybe for Abers.
Surber skips past Winters and approaches Lana.
“Miss Romnova…”
“Spare me,” Lana says. “I’ve already put it on.”
Surber leans in to whisper in her ear and says just loud enough for us to hear, “And we both know why that’s a good idea, now don’t we?”
“Mr. Abers,” Surber says, wheeling around on the Marine who kicked this little power trip of his off. Not that I don’t understand why he’s doing it. I just would have taken a different approach if it were up to me. “Lee. Or maybe I should call you by one of your other aliases?”
Abers, looks down. A mix of worry and anger knitted across his brow.
“Republic Marine for five years and then… an OTH discharge. Which wasn’t what was promised, was it? But it was better than what could have come out of a court-martial.”
“I got you, sir,” Abers says, a definite edge in his voice. “I’ll put it on.”
“You’re damn right you will,” Surber says. But then, for some reason, he keeps going. “Mix in with the Guild within two months of release. Those scout sniper awards ended up useful for something, didn’t they? Built a solid portfolio but… you couldn’t help yourself. Went off contract. Lost the Guild’s protection. And now you’re wanted in five systems with a fifty thousand credit bounty on your head.”
“Sir,” I try to interject, but Surber continues.
“Mr. Nilo paid that bounty on your behalf when you were trapped like a doro in a kennel. And while you’re free to leave at any time should this… job become something other than what you ‘signed up for,’ we would expect to be reimbursed for our initial investments. Which would mean taking you directly to the nearest guild marshal in exchange for that bounty. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Abers mumbles.
“Good,” Surber says. He straightens up and speaks louder, as if he doesn’t know that we could already hear every word. Just power games. “I want to make another thing clear. What Mr. Nilo is doing on Kublar is nothing short of revolutionary. The fall of the Republic on Utopion will usher in a new age in the galaxy
