The decision was quickly made to not make the lengthy trip to New York for the Kingfisher, or to the Hood for the Starblazer. Instead, they got yet another CSV on the cheap for the trip, planning to replace it as soon as they reached their destination. Much to their relief, they were allowed to land without incident - unless one were to count the pair of Scimitars "escorting" them in flying a little too close for comfort.
Unsurprisingly, there was somebody there to greet them. A tallish man of indeterminate adult age, he looked like he might disappear if there were more than one or two other people in the room. There was a pistol in his holster, of course, and he wore the black faux-leather jacket with straps across the chest so favored by Outcast men.
"Our mutual friend told me about your little problem," he began without preamble, "And believe me when I say you're not the first. Get your kind up here all the time, got a beef with the 'sairs, tryin' to prove themselves so we'll help 'em get revenge. Most die trying. Got a special test for you. Up for it?" His voice was quick, his vowels clipped, and his general demeanor that of somebody who had little patience, and was not happy wasting his time giving fresh meat some work to do.
They didn't answer, still trying to take it in - and caught more than a little off-guard. Not even time to sit down? What the crap?
"You can sleep when you're done. Short trip, but dangerous. Your hacker buddy says you'll probably need some elint to pin this guy, since you don't even know his name. So, do you wanna practice, or not?"
Ren answered for them both. "What's the job?"
"In the hangar next door is a Sabre. Not just any Sabre - a two-seat version we use for recon. Weaker armor, weaker guns, high-power short-range scanner dish instead of a turret, and an array of antennae on that trapezoidal frontal profile. Pilot flies and shoots, spook in back works the gadgets."
"Hold up," Katashi insisted. "Don't the Hackers have something like that? Why not use one of those, instead of modifying a perfectly good front-line fighter?"
The Outcast simply stared at him for nearly a full minute. Just stood there with his arms crossed, staring - either daring the pilot to say something even less sensible, or giving him a chance to take it back. "Why would we use a Hacker fighter, when we can modify a perfectly good Outcast VHF? That's just stupid, meat. We'd have used a light fighter, but they don't have enough power. We'd use a bomber, but they're too slow. So we used a heavy. Had to strip some power drains - guns - but we did it. Is the Sabre not good enough for you, meat?"
"I'm sorry."
"Damn right you are. Now, you mighta heard there's another House out there. There is, and we think the jump hole is somewhere inside that minefield out there. Stuff flies out, we kill it. They keep coming out. It's in there somewhere. We want you to find it, and go inside to see what's on the other side. Explore a bit, gather intel, and make it back alive...and you get to name the fighter. Then do it again at the northern entrance in the Omicrons - I'll explain later - and keep the fighter, and earn some serious brownie points. Deal?"
They both nodded.
"Good. My boys & girls'll unload your stuff. If you survive, they'll put it in a room for you. Die, they'll put it in the commodities area. Now get outta here, you're not gettin' paid by the hour!"
* * * * *
They waited until they were sealed in the Sabre's cockpit to comment on their host, Ren first. "What's his deal?"
"Probably didn't want us to get too comfy since he expects us to die."
"Oh. Well, that's okay, then." Ren snorted. "It's a load of crap. You know that, right? They know how to get in...they just want to see if we can figure it out. Which is retarded, since we lived there for almost a year. And he's still friggin' weird...and I'm not too sure I like how much he seems to know about our situation."
"Eh...as long as he's good as his word, we'll be fine. Wilson did say it'd be something stupid, didn't he? How're you doing back there?"
He heard Ren shifting in her seat. "Well, it's a good thing we're both short...no way this would be comfortable for a pair of average-sized pilots." There were a few subdued beeps and other assorted electronic noises as she powered up her systems. "Well...this is pretty easy. They just reworked some sort of capship sensors...and cut the range to nothing so it'd work off a fighter's powerplant. Holy crap, it's a drain on the plant...you probably won't be able to shoot much while I'm using the dish."
"S'okay," Katashi assured her. "I'm good at dodging. Ish." It wasn't the first time he'd flown a Border Worlds fighter, so the controls - while not familiar - were at least not totally alien. In only a few minutes, the hangar was emptied of people and air, and the doors opened. Katashi advanced the throttle, and the heavily modified Sabre left the asteroid.
It had been less than fifteen minutes since their CSV had docked.
