“Whoever this friend of yours is, Major, I hope he’s already got a table,” Stan called over the roar of a standing-room-only crowd.
A massive chamber with an open industrial floor plan, the legendary merc assembly hall resembled in many respects a tavern-style public house from Earth, with its loose clusters of tables and seating areas, plus the large, round bar at center-floor. This was probably one of the reasons Taylor had always felt so at home here. Granted, there’d been much about the merc life that had taken him time to grow into these past two years. Deal-making, on the other hand—especially those negotiations that took place over frozen mugs of frothy beverages—had come quite naturally to him.
You learn a lot about people from behind a bar. Taylor chewed his lip as fresh streams of financial data poured like numeric rain across one of the myriad Tri-V monitors. Damn, that’s a lot of contracts. The Merc Guild had just started taking contracts again, and everyone was trying to get in on the first couple of waves.
“Hey, Cornhusker!” a raspy female voice shouted past the scrum of chattering aliens and clinking glassware. “You gonna come grab a seat and drink with me, or what?”
Recognizing the reference to his Nebraskan XO’s call sign, Taylor scanned the crowd in search of the voice’s owner. What he found was a lone Sirra’Kan wearing a skin-tight cocktail dress staring a hole through his XO with her best come hither smile from a booth near the back.
“Wait, that’s your ‘old buddy’ from the Stormriders?” Taylor framed the buddy part with air quotes. “The six-foot-tall feline alien who came here dressed to kill like a runway supermodel from Cheetara’s Casino? That’s your contact. Really?”
Jack coughed into his fist. “Nicely done, sir.”
“Does Smitty know about this?” Taylor asked.
Billy rolled his eyes. “Do you want the Zuparti contract or not? Because if the answer is yes, I’d highly recommend all three of you chuckleheads stow your preconceptions and follow my lead. Ayew?”
“Ayew, Major.” Stan flashed a faux salute. “Or should I say…meow.”
Jack spun aside to mask his snicker.
“That’s it, I’m out!” Billy turned for the exit. “I’ll see you super trooper idiots back on the Osyrys.”
“Hold it, Romeo.” Taylor caught his XO by the arm. “Jokes aside, you put a lot of work into makin’ this meet a reality. I, for one, wanna see where it goes.”
Billy glanced to the Farts, both of whom snapped upright. “That’s better. Follow me.”
The group wove their way through the crowd toward the back corner booth where their bipedal host rose to her feet, her deep brown eyes and faintly striped complexion elegantly framed by honey-blonde hair that cascaded in waves past her shoulders.
Frank would be losin’ his mind right now.
“What’s up, you old tree planter?” the Sirra’Kan said with a strikingly American accent. Afterward, she threw her arms around the Eagles’ XO and squeezed. “Great seeing you, as always.”
“Likewise, Kami,” Billy said, breaking the hug. “How’s life in the brokerage business these days?”
“Eh, it has its perks.” The feline shrugged. “The job pays well, of course, plus it’s worlds safer than my previous occupation. Still, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t occasionally miss the thrills that came with being a merc. Alas.” She tapped a glossy fingernail to the Eagles patch on Billy’s sleeve. “The universe has a funny way of bringing us all back around to the places we least expect, when we least expect it. Wouldn’t you agree?”
Billy gestured to his encourage. “Kami, allow me to introduce the new commanding officer of Swamp Eagle Security, Chief Taylor Van Zant, and two of our senior staff, Commanders Jack Bowyer and Jedidiah Stan.”
“Ma’am.” The Farts nodded.
“Everybody,” Billy continued, “I’d like you to meet Eutowa K’Nami, former staff sergeant with the Emerald Stormriders over in Panama City, and the current attaché to the Zuparti’s Vuhov clan. She’ll be serving as our broker for today’s negotiations.”
Kami greeted them with a wave. “Good to finally meet you guys. Husker here has told me a lot about you.”
“I wish I could say the same,” Taylor admitted. “Sadly, our favorite XO stays pretty tight-lipped about his nomad days between his stints with the Eagles.”
“Does he now?” The Sirra’Kan raised an eyebrow. “Because I can happily fill in some of those gaps after the meeting if you’ve got some extra time.”
“Easy,” Billy warned.
Taylor was quickly getting the impression that he liked this woman. “Maybe another time. Thanks for agreein’ to meet with us, Ms. K’Nami. We really appreciate it.”
“It’s no problem. And please, call me Kami.” She looked around. “Just out of curiosity, Husker, where’s that hard-nosed little Australian spitfire I’ve come to know as your shadow? Don’t tell me she skipped out on making the trip from Earth.” The feline flashed a grin. “Or, you know. Tell me she did, and we’ll really make this a party.”
“I take it you’re referring to Captain Dinah Smith,” Billy said, wearing the look of a man who’d waited all day to get his next words off his chest. “She’s holding down the fort in orbit aboard the Osyrys. And legally speaking, it’s actually Major Dawson now. Smitty and I were married three weeks ago.”
Kami’s grin faltered. “Really?”
“Yeah, really,” Billy said quietly.
The duo shared a momentary look before the Sirra’Kan broke the silence. “Well then. I guess there’s only one thing left to say.”
Billy waited.
“May the days ahead for you and your bride be filled with laughter, prosperity, joy, and above all—love in its purist form. But…” Kami swiped a pair of whiskeys from a nearby server bot and handed one to her comrade, “in the event that it’s not, you can always take heart in knowing old friends and old vices are never far away.”
The Eagles’ XO met their host’s gaze with
