Shaman's Fortune

[Chronicron]

Same small room with monitors and a control panel. Nick has successfully curated four “Piligrim” Liners full of slaves. Athena’s Reach and Meredith were already on their way to Sigmas, El Dorado and Midas’s Touch traveled smoothly through southern Kusari systems. Last two ships to depart were Eve’s Sin and Shaman’s Fortune.
Indeed, Eve’s Sin had no actual captain. It was Bleak Ben’s ship, yet she had one of his most trusted captains at her hail. Both liners were stationed at Rochester, awaiting Nick's signal. Jersey and Silverton fields were clear, with some occasional Xeno fighters passing by Nick’s cameras. He leaned closer to the microphone and switched to Bleak Ben’s comm channel.

- Nick to Shaman’s Fortune and Eve’s Sin. You’re good to go. Proceed to Colorado Jump hole and from there to Ontario.
- Got ya, Nick. Strap in, boys! We’re in for a ride!

Covered in rust, two massive ships have entered cruise and plotted their courses to the Coronado system.

***

- Ben, there are LSF ships coming from Riverside! Do not take the Jump Gate, go by the hole!

His words were ignored. Shaman’s Fortune has already entered the docking sequence with the Jump Gate. Yet Eve’s Sin went by the direction given by Nick. When Ben's liner jumped out of hyperspace, LSF ships were ready for his arrival. Confused, Nick muted himself and switched to one of his cameras inside of the Sierra field.

- Shaman’s Fortune, cut your engines, disable your shields and prepare to be boarded.

The comm channel was still open. Nick decided to stay and listen for any possible info about the real man behind this. Bleak Ben ordered his men to put the hands in the air, holding on to the comm button.

- I would like to negotiate.

An entire unit of LSF troops boarded the Fortune. Four of them, accommodated by a single lady, have entered the bridge. Nick swiftly switched over to the liner’s interior cameras, trying to identify the intruders.

- As promised, Agent. I’m giving you our boss’s dossier, and you are leaving us alone.

The woman stepped closer to him, keeping her voice as low as possible.

- You have my word. But you’ll have to drop the slaves off at Riverside.

His cigarette fell onto the grated floor, his mouth was barely open. In denial, he tried to pinpoint the best angle he could find. His heart stopped for a moment. It was her. Her big, green eyes, her long blonde hair and her soft, yet low voice. “Cynthia…” With his hands in the air, Bleak Ben walked towards a small locker by the control panel. Cynthia’s men had him in their sights the whole time, tracking his every move. He took out a small white folder and slowly handed it over to her, moving back to the window. There was only one sheet, yet it had all she needed.

But something took over her. She made a step back so that she couldn’t lose her balance. For a moment, she forgot that she was a secret agent on a mission, turning back into an astraphobic housewife. It was Nick. The dossier described him as he was, with his photo on the front page - a Rheinland-Liberty war veteran with excellent skills in managing and curating.

- The rest of you take it from here. I'm going solo.

She couldn’t believe herself. The very target she was pursuing for months was the only person who cared about her, who knew her up close and personal. She wanted to look Nick in the eyes, to ask him if it was really him. On her way back to the hangar bay, she felt as she was ready to burst in tears, yet she tried to keep her composure.
Nick knew he was done for. He never expected Bleak Ben to give him away like that, and to Cynthia of all people. He turned off every single monitor in his room, beaming towards the hangar bay, pushing off everyone on his way. He had to get home before her.

***

In panic, he feverishly started throwing his clothes into a luggage. Cynthia wasn’t home yet, so maybe he could escape her. “Where’s that damn jacket?”. Frantically running through a wooden wardrobe, he couldn’t find a trace of a blue jacket he was looking for.

But it was too late. The door’s locker clicked, its squeak telegraphed his upcoming demise. She tried to hide the fact that she knew about his deeds, gently putting her coat into the drawer. As she walked into a room, she noticed her husband frantically running around, throwing everything he could find into a luggage.

- What’s… The matter? Where are you going?

He couldn’t find any words. He silently continued to gather his stuff, ditching an idea of having a spare jacket. All he had in mind is to find a shelter, somewhere where his wife or the LSF won’t find him. And to think that she works for them? Was she spying on him all along? Were they really in love?

- I… Have to go.

She could contain her grief no longer. He knew about her. And she knew about him. Exhausted and heartbroken, she dropped into a couch, covering her face and tearing up silently. But he knew he couldn’t help the situation. For her, he no longer was a loving husband. He was a criminal, and worst of all - a monster.

- Go…. Just… Go.

He only sighed. Both of their secret lives were revealed to each other, both in a shocking manner. In his eyes, she was a spy, a person who maybe only pretended to love him. In her eyes, he became a monster who always orchestrated and concealed his deals with smugglers and slavers.
The door shut close. He had no way to go now. His last hope was to hide somewhere in the Independent worlds and lay low.