[Fiction] A Difficult Case

[CrackersofGraham]

Quick note
I'm happy to accept criticism, questions, comments and whatnot via PM or in the thread. Oh, and I'm still not sure if this'll really be 18+ or not, so be alert to that. I decided to throw this in the 18+ section to be on the safe side, though since it'll (hopefully) be moved to the Completed Section, I doubt that it'll make much difference in the long run. And without further ado, here's "A Difficult Case"



The digits "14:47" floated above the Chief's ashtray, casting a blue glow over the items on his desk: a pistol, a hologram of his wife, and an old chess piece. The hum of the holo-clock projector was drowned out by the low drone of traffic outside. "Thirteen..." he muttered, drawing on his cigarette. "Thirteen minutes until this whole mess ends..."

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Thirteen days earlier
Ministry of Justice, Head Branch
New Terra

Agent 586 had been called to the capital on short notice. He would have never set foot on this planet if he didn't have to: between the people, the skycars, and even the roads, the city was a blur of motion. However, the message from Chief Edwards had intrigued him. The promise of a unique case had made the trip to New Terra worth it. The Chief's door slid aside as 586 approached, releasing a cloud of stale air.

Edwards was standing by his desk, never partial to sitting while entertaining guests. "You certainly made the trip in short order." the Chief began. "I was in the cluster. I was told you have a mission regarding Adams?" 586 replied, gesturing to the files floating above the Chief's desk.

Garth Adams: an infamous leader from the outer colonies. He had been leading a militia against the New Terran colonization efforts in the Alnilam system. With all the publicity he had been making, it was only a matter of time before the Ministry of Justice took action. The Chief began: "The Ministry of Justice needs more information on Garth Adams. We are willing to offer fifty million aurei, along with official documentation for a false identity."

Garth Adams was a unique case: like most notorious enemies of New Terra, he was vigilant regarding his choice of officers. Unlike most, however, he enjoyed playing strange games of chance. If 586 was going to get close to Adams, he would have to participate in his games.

The mission would be dangerous: gathering information was always more difficult than assassinations, and Adams was a difficult man to get close to. However, the promise of fifty million aurei was a difficult offer to turn down. With hesitation, 586 put an antique chess king on Edwards' desk, his symbol of a contract.

Neither Edwards nor 586 could foresee the events that the next thirteen days would bring, though they would change the lives of all involved. The Chief started towards the door and stopping to turn to 586, he spoke: "Then let's begin..."

He paused to look down at his notepad. "...Grant Bailey."

[CrackersofGraham]

Twelve days earlier
Observation deck
Private jumpship, Drifter

Agent 586, or rather, Grant Bailey stood gazing out of the glass walls of the cupola. Beyond lay the stars, their light bent and contorted by the Drifter's faster-than-light drive. On a small table in front of him laid files on various games that he could expect Adams to play: poker, chess, and a more ambiguous game called "Truth or Dare".

The first two games were extremely popular in the days before the Egression, and both had a well documented set of rules: Grant himself was fond of playing chess with his employers on occasion. Truth or Dare, on the other hand, was a game that fell out of common knowledge in the late 22nd century, with only the name appearing in the New Terran database.

Also on the table was a small mirror. Grant's hair had been dyed from the pale white of a New Terran to the dark black of a colonist. His eyes, which had been augmented to withstand the intense radiation of outer space, now had a natural dark brown colour. The change, while simple, would be enough to earn the trust of the colonial militia that Adams commanded.

While Grant inspected his appearance, the stars outside the window began to take their places in the Alnilamian sky. A gentle voice alerted him to their arrival at the militia's base of operations, the heavy frigate Herald of Athena.

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Twelve days earlier
Main Hangar
Heavy frigate, Herald of Athena

Within moments of the Drifter's docking, the ship was stormed by armed men, who promptly subdued Grant and cuffed his hands in front of him. In any other situation, Grant could have escaped easily: the cuffs were flimsy, cheap models used by corporate vessels. The guns the men lacked power sources, according to the bright warnings displayed on the side of the weapons. Finally, Grant's hands were cuffed in front of him; picking the locks would be child's play.

However, Grant was not here to assassinate Adams. Remembering his mission, he offered his unconditional surrender to the clearly inept militiamen. As they dragged him out of the Drifter's airlock, one of them, a private, spoke up: "What the hell is a colonist like you doing in a fancy jumpship?". Grant said nothing, but smiled. As the guard continued to interrogate him, a voice rang out from a catwalk above.

"You are forgetting the point, Private Marshall. What, pray tell, would a simple colonist be doing with the Herald of Athena's exact coordinates?" it rang out. A man's voice. "And what would that colonist want with us?"

In reply, Grant simply pulled an antique deck of cards from his front pocket, and spoke:

"I would like to play a game with you... Garth Adams."

[wedgie/dare girl]

This looks like it's going to be good, nice cliff hanger as well

[CrackersofGraham]

Glad to hear you like it, wedige/dare! Oh, and here's more. Sorry if it's a bit short, but I'm still trying to figure out where the story's going to go from here.

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Twelve days earlier
Brig
Heavy freighter, Herald of Athena

Grant Bailey and Garth Adams sat opposite each other in the frigid brig of the Herald. On the table between them sat Grant's antique card deck. "So, which game did you have in mind, colonist?" Adams asked cordially. Grant said nothing, but gave a false smile. While he preferred to remain businesslike and direct, the persona of a cheeky colonist seemed to be working so far: Adams seemed to like his smug demeanour. Grant would just have to suffer until he could gather enough information on the rebels.

"I suppose a simple game of blackjack will suit us just fine." Garth said, unfazed by Grant's silence. "But how about we make this interesting?"
"What did you have in mind?" Grant replied.
"We have a little bet. I'm currently in need of a... personal assistant. I win one game, and you fill that position."

Be a slave to this bastard, then return home with fifty million aurei. Grant mulled it over. There was still a possibility of escape. He could fight his way past the militia to the Drifter and be relaxing on a tropical world by tomorrow. But if he stayed, he would have to swallow his pride for a few days, then return home a rich man. The Ministry was offering quite a sum...

"Fine." Grant replied. But what could he need from the militia? "...but if I win, you give me this ship."
"Then we have a deal." Adams replied, unfazed by the bet. Not that he would lose the Herald, anyway.

In the game that followed, Garth won with a jack and a ten: even if Grant had been trying, he was still screwed. "Well then, it looks like I win. Let's get you geared up." Adams said, with a smirk. With a gesture, two guards promptly entered, grabbed Grant by the shoulders, and led him into the open doorway...