“That is correct,” he said flatly to me. “I require you to undertake this contract with extreme haste and prejudice. You have proven yourself capable in the past for us, and given your military record, this should be a walk in the park for you, Colonel Wieler.” He emphasized my rank with sarcasm. I really detested dealing with new agents, especially ones on the edge of Empire space, but he did pay well; very well, and who was I to turn away work? War was expensive, a constant outpouring of ISK with precious little in return. I re-read the intel report, furrowing my brow further. This wasn’t going to be a walk in the park, unless by walk he meant blindly run, and by park he meant minefield. 

“All right, I’ll do it. Just make sure you have your bonus signed and ready.” I threw the intel datasheet on his desk, stiffened my posture, the heels of my military boots clacking together, turned perfectly on the ball of my foot, and marched out of his office. It might not have been the appropriate display at the time, but it felt good. People got lazy in lowsec; there was no discipline, no order. The further you got from Empire space, the less civilized people tended to be. There were exceptions of course, but this condescending agent was not one of them.

I had only ventured a handful of times into known pirate space. Sure, the war had taken me wherever needed, but that was different; I always had a fleet at my side and the support of the Minmatar Republic at my back. This was corporate work. Nobody would be coming to look for me if things turned sour; they would simply entice someone else with the promise of ISK, never having to risk their own corporate assets. Pilots were expendable.

I arrived back at the docking bay we were moored at, and entered my Republic Fleet Stabber. I had upgraded some of its fittings recently, trying to get my feet under me again in the private sector. I had gotten so used to barking orders, focusing on the tactics of hundreds of ships at a time, that I had gotten a little rusty at surviving on my own. That needed to change.

My newest crew was untested. I hadn’t taken them on any war engagements, though they had over one hundred hours each logged in the holosim, engaging in plex skirmishes. After losing my previous crew due to gross impulsiveness on my part, I was more cautious about throwing away any more lives or ships needlessly.

To that end, I wasn’t arrogant enough to think I could pull this off on my own. Strong willed or not, I was going to need help.

Who did I know in lowsec? Who could I trust to not double cross me on this run, and be happy just taking their cut from the salvage? I looked closely at the star charts. 

I wasn’t exactly sure where they were based, but I was hoping they might be able to help, as they were quite reputable pirates and would know how to go about this type of thing far better than I. I just had to make sure this entire adventure wasn’t traceable; the last thing I wanted was  my pristine reputation tarnished being seen associating with filth. I sent an encrypted burst packet across subspace. Here’s hoping she remembered the decryption key we used last time we did business. 

Here’s hoping the Hellcats were willing to do me a favour.