Subjugation

[Halcyon]

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CHAPTER II - The Grease Fire

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-- October 25th, 09:32 HR [Coronado]

Johan was a small man by most standards. It was easy to lose track of him between the rows of shelves and lock cases lining his shop as he happily went about showing off his wares to his guests and clients. His ruffled and scruffy looking salt and pepper hair only occasionally being spotted cresting the hard cases and ammo racks as he dragged the latest model Daumann shotgun off its secure display mount. Even if someone hadn’t met Johan before, everyone knew about the arms dealer on Barrier Gate, the short man with those tiny black glasses and a nervous smile that was practically carved into his face. He’d been there for years, and his shop was practically a landmark on the promenade. And with Barrier Gate’s generous landing policy, everyone from the IMG pilots to rogues and junkers frequented his shop seeking their dream guns. The Rheinlander welcomed them all with open arms.

His current client made him look downright puny though.

Bessie Bishop easily stood two heads taller than him. The gruff woman was built like a heavyweight boxer or linebacker. Or a truck. With forearms nearly as thick as his waist, she looked like she could fold him in half with her bare hands, though their relationship was anything but antagonistic. Bounty hunters and arms dealers often crossed paths after all, a good working relationship was valuable to both of their lines of work. She glanced around the shop, taking in the dozens of lock boxes and display pieces that quietly sat there as a dozen security sensors gazed down upon the pair and the valuable merchandise. Outside the armored window, one could barely make out the glittering neon lights of the upper promenade, and the pair of compliance droids Johan had guarding his place. Shadows danced past them as shoppers and off duty crew meandered around, heading into various shops and restaurants in their off hours. Her mind started to wander off as she listened to the quiet jazz music filtering in from the overhead speakers.
A clack drew Bessie’s eyes back to the counter. Johan offered the weapon to her.

“May I present to you, Miss Bishop, the Daumann M4-1A, 834 AS edition.”

She hefted the gun up, looking over the receiver and the grip.

“It’s lighter than I expected.”

“New composite construction techniques. She is some twenty or so percent lighter than the 832 version.” He trailed off, pulling out a pair of ammo boxes. One was marked as AP flechette, the other, neural stun rounds. He proudly moved his hand from one to the other as he spoke. “Capable of accepting a variety of ammunition types, the weapon is also capable of three hundred rounds per minute and features a built in recoil dampener to give the user further control in hostile work environments. The gyro-stabilized system will automatically account for any excessive kickback and keep the gun level and stable.”

She experimented bringing the gun up to a firing position.

“Good ergonomics.” She squinted, looking down the length of the weapon. She experimented, cycling the action a few times, turning it over again, and putting it back down on the counter. “Could you have that sent down to the Coyote II? I’m in docking B, pad four.”

“But of course.” He placed the gun in its hard case. “I will have one of my couriers bring it down.”

“How much?”

“For you? Four fifty. I will even throw in four drums and enough AP flechette for them.”

“Deal.” She held out a hand to shake, and he took hers in hand. She squeezed hard, causing his face to contort. Her mouth curled up into a sly grin that pushed back her fat cheeks, knowing exactly what she had done.

“A-always a pleasure, Miss Bishop.” He freed his hand, shaking it out some. “Please, let me put these aside for you.”

“Sure thing.”

As he stepped away, hardcase in hand, Bessie fished out some of her credit chips. Her eyes drifted to a little picture behind the counter, near the register, that Bessie hadn’t noticed before. It was small, tucked in the corner near a security terminal. Looked like two girls in a forest, both of them having dark hair like Johan. One of them looked a lot like Johan. Family, no doubt. The thoughts of why he may have left Rheinland filtered out quietly from her mind as he returned from outback, collecting her credit chips and giving her the receipt.

Bessie had been wanting to bring up an issue all night, and sensing she was running out of chances to do it, she just spat it out. It was a topic she was sure that Johan wanted to avoid, as he hadn’t brought it up, and he never really forgot anything business related.

“Soooo… about that Gallic inferno blaster you promised me…”

“Oh, Miss Bishop,” He blurted out in an almost embarrassed way. “I assure you I am still working on that.” He raised a finger as he spoke. “Perhaps I can interest you in a new Volgograd hold out laser?”

“Like I could kill a Corsair with that dinky piece of Coalition shit. You said that you’d have them last week, Johan.” She rolled her eyes, leaning in on the counter, smugly and dryly tapping her fingers on her cheek as she spoke. “I am starting to think you can’t deliver.”

“Please, Miss Bishop, don’t speak like that. I value my reliability, and reputation.”

“Aaaaaand….?”

His mouth moved wordlessly a moment as his mind chugged along, struggling to find the words for whatever he was about to say.
“I am afraid to say that my last shipment was intercepted before it reached Liberty space.”

“I thought your smugglers were better than to get caught by the cops.” She scoffed.

There was a pause.
“It wasn’t the cops.”

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-- October 25th, 09:41 HR [Coronado]

Barrier Gate Ramen wasn’t too far from Johan’s shop, a five minute walk down the promenade and down a flight of stairs. As the two made their way to go get dinner, the familiar sound of footfalls keeping pace with their own tugged at the back of Bessie’s mind. More than once she glanced over her shoulder, and more than once she had locked eyes with the same station security officer that had been shadowing her. Barrier Gate was effectively a freeport, and as such, numerous pirates, bounty hunters, and miners made port here. Station security obsessively kept eyes on the “troublemakers” whenever they came into town. As a member of the Bounty Hunters Guild, she was one of those troublemakers. It was an open secret that many hunters and targets crossed paths on the station, but the administration was keen on keeping this place relatively bloodless. Anyone who showed up looking to start trouble on Barrier Gate ended up being removed with an utter lack of grace.

Murmuring, distant clattering, and the sizzle of the grill filled the air at Barrier Gate Ramen. The sounds mixed in with the salty and savory scents wafting in from the kitchen from behind the crowded bar. Exhausted crew, rowdy workers, and drunk pirates all intermingled here and eagerly snatched up the traditional food that blew their normal space rations out of the water. And while Bessie typically didn’t go for Kusari food, this place had changed her mind since she had started coming here weeks back.

They got a table near the windows, the huge viewports overlooking the distant gap down below where the station straddled the massive set of asteroids amidst the blue, icy fog. He slid down wordlessly into his seat while Bessie struggled to get her bulk in the booth comfortably. With a huff she ended up moving the table a couple inches towards Johan, and thankfully he still had enough room. He didn’t even notice, his gaze had turned to the window. Glittering distant lights from ships buzzing around like little gnats drew her eye, distracting her and Johan until the clatter of porcelain on wood brought them both back to the present.

“Ah! Dōmo arigatōgozaimasu!” He happily barked out at the waitress.

“Yeah, uh, thank you, thanks.” Bessie gave her an awkward smile and affirmative nod.

Bessie awkwardly took her chopsticks in hand, struggling to position them right as Johan seemed to effortlessly begin eating, long ago having mastered the art of chopsticks. After much awkward struggling in which she nearly dropped the piece of meat, she managed to get a slice of the tonkatsu into her mouth. Something that was well worth the effort in the end. The two ate in silence for a while, until Bessie decided to be annoying.

“So. It was pirates?”

“Hmm?” He paused, the cheer fading from his face a moment later once he realized what she meant. “Hmm. Indeed, Miss Bishop. My man was jumped by an old Insurgent ship.”

“Oh please. You’re full of shit, Johan.”

“Please, Miss Bishop, I have a reputation to uphold. I would not lie about such an embarrassing affair.”

“So what happened, you guy got jumped by the Insurgency and got mugged? That’s your story?”

“... yes.”

“Bullshit.” She snagged a knot of noodles and stuffed it into her mouth. “Ain’t been any Insurgents around for years. Unless those leftover ones who signed up with the Technocracy turned to piracy. I ain’t heard about anything like that, as weird as those weirdos are they seem to play things close to their chest. I can’t see them muggin smugglers.”

“The INS-Subjugator.” He spoke dryly. That name rang a bell to her. But that ship had been missing for almost three years from what she could recall. She didn’t know what to make of it. “A real, proper Insurgency ship. Turned to piracy it seems. My man said the commander was a Lex Adams, or so the communications claimed.”

That name. That was familiar. She’d seen that on the Navy bounty board weeks back, but it was an old as hell post from years and years ago. Where’d this bastard come crawling up from? Why show his face now? And why had her hunting dry spell lasted long enough to make this bastard such a tempting target? She quietly grumbled to herself about her lack of catches lately, before finally, she decided, well what the hell?

“You’re serious, ain’tcha?” She swallowed.

“Deathly so, Miss.” Quietly he folded his hands together as he spoke. “These are trying times I am afraid.”

“Hmmph.” She turned to her soup, idly stirring it with her chopsticks. “You know, for a flash in the pan, these Insurgency and Hellfire guys seem to have really caused a mess that won’t seem to go away.”

“A flash in the pan?” Johan scoffed. “Miss Bishop, your time in Sugarland has blinded you to the real scope of the debacle. This was no mere flash, but a full grease fire in the kitchen that is Liberty.”

“I guess so.” With a huff she gathered up more of her noodles on her chopsticks, awkwardly trying to wrap them around like it was spaghetti. “Where’d this happen anyways? You know that bastard could be worth a lot of credits.”

“I am afraid my own smugglers keep their routes close to their chest. Compartmentalizing information and all. I wouldn’t want you bothering my men, or, others of your persuasion.”

“Right.”

“You know, I know a woman who could help you. An info broker. If you’re interested.”

“Sure. I mean, hell, why not, I’ll bite.”

“Contact Matilda Antioch. She would know more, perhaps can shed some light on the matter.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin before taking his glass of sake in hand. “Though it may be unwise to pursue this man.”

“Well if I do I ain’t exactly gonna do it alone. I ain’t that stupid nor that tough. I don’t suppose you wanna come, Johan? You got enough guns.”

“Please, Miss Bishop, I do not imbibe in my own product. Nor partake in such violence. Besides, I am going to be heading out of the system in a couple days anyways.”

“Business, pleasure?”

“Neither.” He took a sip of sake as he spoke, his face growing somewhat stone-like. “I am off to Hamburg to deal with paperwork pertaining to my sister’s death.” A smile cracked his mouth for but a moment. “The accident at the physics campus.”

“Ah.” Bessie said dryly. The air around them was stagnant for a moment. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize, Miss Bishop.”

Bessie simply shook her head, taking another glob of noodles into her mouth.
“That picture in your place behind the counter?”

“Heh, yes, that’s us. I have made some changes since then admittedly, but I do have many fond memories of our time together on Hamburg. Whilst I have largely put that part of my life behind me, I have not left it all by the wayside. As such I have some familial and legal obligations. Though it may take some convincing to get her son to let me in to do the paperwork.”

“Think he won’t recognize you or some such?”

“Oh, Miss Bishop, he simply thinks I am an ass.”

“Pfft, oh please, you’re like the nicest guy on the station.”

“That.” He smiled. “Is because I am a good businessman.”

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---- chapter written by @Big Bison Bessie