Richard was pacing his office and dabbing at his sweating forehead with his trademark green kerchief.
This item, usually carefully folded and held by his left epaulet, was now hopelessly wrinkled and damp from being wrought in his hands for the last several hours. Through the view port, he could see the bright lights of the (\^/)Ganymede on its final approach to Delta Mining Corp. Inside that ship was the only barrier standing in between him and almost 2 billion credits. Dirk Danger, a member of the Phoenix and the last living stakeholder in DMC, aside from himself. The last several weeks had been a whirlwind for Richard. It was hardly a year since fleeing an embezzlement investigation at a backwater trading post somewhere left of nowhere in the Tau systems. He had left nearly credit-less, as the bank accounts where the money had been funneled to were being closely monitored by the authorities he was certain. Fleeing the sector with hardly the clothes on his back and the spare change in console of his tiny shuttle, he had found his way to the furthest possible point away from his crimes, Omicron Delta.
It was not long before he was up to his old tricks, posting a fictitious investment opportunity through the local Freeports financial office (with borrowed credit bureau identifier of course) which was verified as a secure investment. The idea was to take investors credits, build the shell of the station and perhaps even hire a few miners, just for sake of face, and bail with the contents of the stations bank account. All in the form of untraceable 1,000,000 credit cards stacked in the hold of his beat up shuttle. From there, he planned to trade that old crate in exchange for a brand new Democritus liner, stuffed full of exotic dancers and fine booze. At least that was the plan, until an unprecedented demand for the ore actually made it more profitable to work honestly for a change. He soon found himself administering a very successful business he had started with a scam! No need to steal when you getting paid this much. But fate has a way to twist people back to what they really are, and Richard was not able to escape fates grasp.
Richard had arraigned a party for the investor group on occasion of their first profit payout. Completely out of his own pocket of course, as a thank you to his most esteemed bosses you see. He had sent one of the mines Lease-hands out in his old shuttle for food, booze and other refreshments. The Lease-hand was running late and the investors were arriving, prompting Richard to contact the young man and in not so uncertain terms informed him that his continued employment depended solely upon his ability to arrive at the station within the next 60 minutes. The Lease-hand, now properly motivated, gladly pushed the cruise drive of the shuttles ever ticking engines to their maximum output and was able to ignore the flashing red 'OVERLOAD IMMINENT' icon on the hub. This was something Richard had assured him was 'Completely fine' and 'Just the way she was built son'. On approach to the station, he knew he would be cutting his deadline very close, and a risky high speed docking maneuver would pad out the margins quite a bit. Aiming the nose at the open bay, he rushed towards his fate faster them the speed of sound. At 100 meters out he pressed the 'SPACE BRAKE' button only to hear an empty click, and in a desperate attempt to avoid impacting the station he pulled hard to starboard. While this harrowing maneuver allowed him to avoid the station, it put him on a terminal collision course with the approaching passenger shuttle he had been trying to beat home. The Lease-hand was instantly killed as he collided with the ship, knocking the passenger shuttle out of control and straight into the station and killing all onboard. With the hull only semi complete, the ship heavily damaged the stations power control to its stabilization thrusters. This had set the Station adrift for over a week, and given Richard a lot of time for his natural greed to set back in.
The shareholders, sans this Dirk Danger who could not be contacted and was out of the system, were all dead. The inheritors of the now deceased investor group were all eager to relinquish their bereavements to the local financial office for a healthy sum. None of them wanted to see DMC ever again, and the bank was happy to find new buyers for shares in the now publicly traded company. The profits remaining were placed back in the stations secure trust, amounting the healthy sum of 1.8 billion credits. And the only thing one would have to do to claim it, was buy the outstanding shares being traded for himself and become the sole owner. And with the company only being valued on its physical assets, ore reserves and cash on hand (A trust not being considered a liquid asset) the shares were valued at a mere 250,000,000 credits! Now it was just a matter of moving enough ore out the back door to make the cash and buy them for himself. He had shut down docking to the station, and put out a stakeholder update to make things look as normal as possible to make his arraignments. He was severely kicking himself in the ass for it now, as that message is likely what had roused Mr. Danger from his absence, and now he was here. Keeping secrets was not his strongest trait, but he hoped that the case of Houston's Finest in the boardroom would be his savior on this day. The station shuddered as the enormous Renzu Liner clamped onto the stations super structure, and audible hiss as pressures qualified as the airlocks opened. It was time for a high stakes game of verbal poker, little did he know he was playing against one of the best...
The (\^/)Ganymede rattled briefly as the stations docking clamp took hold of the giant vessel. The liner itself was in fact larger then the small station and care would have to be taken not to rip the station in two. Dirk had been carefully observing the station on approach. While the station had the appearance of normalcy about it, the astute eye could see the slight change in colour between the original and freshly placed panels at dock C. It was clear to Dirk that the station had been struck by some object, likely another ship, and recently repaired. Something unusual had happened here, even for the wild space known as Omicron Delta. Dirk had not been in Delta for some weeks as an astral anomaly had been lashing out at Phoenix's home base of Kadesh Orbital. The station was still under stabilization measures, but Christian Burton had felt comfortable leaving the restoration of the facility to the other senior officers and giving Dirk leave to seek new trade opportunities for Phoenix. Dirk had, incidentally enough, made a sizable investment in a small mining start-up known as Delta Mining Corp.. Looking back now at the investment data sheet, he realized just how drunk he at been at the Freeport 11 Bar and Grill that evening. 100,000,000 Credits he had deposited at the finance office without even meeting the base commander or other investors. Dirk was amazed that there was even a facility even built, as charlatans and scam artists were nearly as abundant in Delta as the blue crystalline entities that were a constant harassment to shipping in the sector. Still, there was an opportunity now to acquire the complete rights to the station, but Dirk had no idea how abundant that opportunity had become.
Several transmissions had been received by Dirk as the (\^/)Ganymede entered the system. Mostly just news and financial updates as well as some investigative reports from the local police forces (if the Bounty Hunter Core could be referred to as such a thing). Two ships had been lost in was appeared to be an accident close to DMC, to which no survivors were found. The official report had stated pilot error and equipment failure as the cause of the incident, which had left DMC adrift and clinging to life for about a week and a half. Dirk had to give the stations commander, Richard Regan, credit as the station had appeared to have been towed to a new high orbit over the gas giant, Tuvalu, close to the Iridium fields in the SE quadrant of the system. He knew that most commanders would have abandoned the project after multiple fatalities and significant damage to the station leaving it in a near derelict state and adrift in hostile alien infested space. But yet here was DMC in all its glory, a bright beacon contrasted against the purple and black leviathan of a nebula that contained the valuable ores so recently placed in huge demand all over Sirius. Dirk had made several attempts to contact other investors en-route to the station, but searches only returned vague details of their apparent demise. The Core was not exactly well know for their investigative abilities. There were also records of transfer of ownership of holdings of the deceased shareholders to family members, and subsequent sale of said shares to the local financial offices at the Freeport. Outstanding shares are now being valued at around 250,000,000 credits, to be sold to 'approved parties only, upon request in person', a statement that Dirk had never seen before in regards to a publicly traded offering. Dirk had left instructions with the Ganymedes executive officer to contact him as soon as another Phoenix vessel had entered the system, and to instruct the ship to head directly to Freeport 11 to investigate and standby for further orders.
With orders set, he proceeded to the airlock, and upon the familiar hiss and clank of the pressure system doing its job, Dirk entered the tiny outpost. The passenger receiving area was certainly well kept and appointed, but not overly fancy. The main focal point of the room was a statue of a goddess with long white flowing robes and alabaster skin tone. A small plaque revealed that this was the ancient Earth 'Greek' society's goddess Iris, to which Iridium had been given her name sake. Dirk had never see the colour grey used in so many shades and hues before. He stood out like a sore thumb against the walls in his royal blue flight-suit with cyan Phoenix insignia. He was quickly met by comely young woman, neatly dressed in a grey woman's business suit. Has it not been for her shock of red hair, Dirk may not have noticed her at all. “Mr.Danger? My name is Marissia Maltisse, Mr.Regans personal Secretary.” She looked at Dirk softly, but with a certain reservation he could not quite put his finger on. “Would you please accompany me to the boardroom where Mr.Regan will join you shortly?” Dirk flashed his wide smile at the young lady and in his trademark Planet Houston drawl replied, “Ma'am, I haven't said no to a pretty redhead yet and I will not start today. And please, call me Dirk.” The hint of a blush penetrated her pale makeup, and a glimmer of a smile just barely made her lips turn up at the ends. “Please follow me Mr...” She caught herself mid sentence “ Rather, Please follow me, Dirk” This last statement almost sounded like a secret whispered between lovers on a distant planet. Dirk followed here down the main walkway of the station. A few off duty workers and officers milled about, paying no mind to the new stranger among them. It was clear to Dirk that is was in-fact a well organized and disciplined station, in spite of his prior concerns about it being merely a husk for a scam that he had drunkenly bought into. The place was tidy, shift schedules were posted on info screens and smelt of pure recycled and enriched air. But why did he still have a lingering feeling that there was a greater secret in play here? The only missing piece now was Regan himself, and Dirk knew that the secret likely sat within him and him alone. Marissia turned a corner and stopped suddenly, she turned to him and stared straight into his eyes. “Were here... Dirk. Mr. Regan is inside.” She looked at him and Dirk could sense the anticipation pouring off her in waves. “Good luck, Sir. And thank you for vising DMC.” And with that she curtly turned on her heels and smartly walked off around the corner and out of sight. Dirk turned back towards the boardroom door, and pressed the panel to activate the sliding magnetically controlled door. The boardroom was just as grey as the rest of the station. Grey carpets and walls with a dark grey table surrounded what can only be described as ash coloured high back chairs. At the head of this table was a average but smug looking man, roughly 5'10 and 160lbs. He was wearing the same uniform as the rest of the crew, except for the green piece of cloth on his left shoulder, stuffed into the place where insignia or rank identifiers would go on a uniform. “Mr. Danger!” Exclaimed Richard, “ Welcome to Delta Mining Corporation! I have been looking forward to finally meeting you Sir! Please come sit and let me pour us some drinks.” Richard made his way to a small service cart next to the large table. “I hope you like Houston's Finest whisky good sir, I acquired this case awhile ago in preparation of your visit.” Richard popped an ice cube each into two glasses and poured “You've done some research Mr. Regan, and please let me compliment you on the fine facility you are running here. You really seem to have things in good order here, especially seeing the circumstances you have endured.” Dirk walked towards the table and took the seat opposite to Richard. Richard came back with Dirk's drink and placed it in front of him, and returned to his seat at the opposite end of the table. “Well I do make and effort Mr. Danger. Where would you like to start?”......
At Dirks request, he made one of the best presentations on the status of a mining base you had ever seen. Great sales figures, costs well under control, a professional and efficient staff working away. Maintenance done on properly and on time , materials being stockpiled in preparation for the next phase of base construction. Everything was in its place, and in order it seemed. Dirk leaned back in his chair, enjoying his home planets finest cheap whisky, not really paying attention to any of it. He was listening for the nearly inaudible chime of his wrist computer, a signal from the Ganymede that his last order had been transmitted to its intended party and acknowledged by the recipient. Until then he would let Regan keep tripping over his lip convincing him that everything was normal. Indeed the station was being well managed, and Regan could talk all day about it. Dirk was almost certain there was a scam at play here. A poorly planned one, planned by somebody who was batting out of his league. A slight chirp came from his left wrist, letting him know it was time to play his hand. Dirk knew he probably couldn't get Richard to show his cards, but Dirk knew he was going to be able to trump him no matter what. Regan was wrapping up his top notch slideshow detailing the purchase of new asteroid miners and the way they had to bumble their was through the dense ice feild to the rich ore deposits within.
“So Mr. Danger, do you have any questions?” Richard stood before the now dimmed view screen with his warmest smile directed at Dirk. It was a thin veneer to the rot that lied within, but Dirk was not about to peel the skin off this onion. The only thing he had yet to determine was if Richard could still be used here. Marissa seemed like she probably did most of the work around here, and likely could take Richards place if necessary. Still, Dirk could use a man here with enough grapes to at least try to pull of a scheme in these circumstances. “I'd like to know more about the accident Richard.” Dirk said intently to Richard “That could have just as easily been me on that ship, had circumstances been a bit different.” This would just be another time waster. There wouldn't be anymore then the cursory investigation undertaken from the local authorities from Planet Yaren. Regardless of what really happened, Dirk did not get the sense that Regan was a murderer, an opportunist yes, but not a killer. Regans face became grim, as he pressed some buttons on a small terminal on the table, and an image of the space appeared, with the planet Tuvalu in clear view. This was docking port C's recording of the incident Dirk watched in horror as the small beat up shuttle hurdled towards the dock. A slight puff of vapor could be seen as the shuttles reverse thrust failed and the pilot jerked the ship to the left to attempt to avoid the station. Only a orange flash could be seen glowing from off camera seconds before the image began to sake violently, presumably from the other passenger ship colliding with the station. “Shame that was,” Tisked Reagan, “That young man was flying recklessly and is responsible for the loss of many lives and nearly caused the destruction of this station in the process. We have certainly taken measures for that sort of incident never to happen again, including the appointment of a safety officer specifically in charge of pilot training.”
The to the room opened suddenly and Marissa walked in. She briskly walked up to Regan and whispered something in his ear. Regan smiled and touched her arm, whispering something back. “Mr. Danger, you will have to excuse me. I have to attend to some business matters. If there is nothing further I can do for you?” Regan's sly smile had returned in spades now, nearly filling up the entire room. This was interesting, Dirk thought, and now was the time to play his hand. “What sort of business Richard? Something to do with those 3 transports hanging outside the station?” Dirk pointed out the view-port where indeed, 3 matching Boarder-world Transport ships were holding not far from the remaining docking ports, staying clear of the behemoth Ganymede, a ship nearly the size of the station itself. “Y..Yes Mr.Danger, these ships are here for their weekly load of ore. I will be personally over seeing the loading of the vessels Sir.” Regan sounded notably more nervous now. Dirk knew he had found his moment. “Well Richard, I'd like to watch if I may. I am a part owner here after all, I'd love to know more about my investment if you don't mind. I'm sure Marissa can find me an out of the way place to observe from.” Dirk was beaming, “That is alright with you Richard?” Richard looked at Marissa nervously. “You can come to ops with us... Dirk.” Richard was almost snarling now, “Watching auto-loaders dump ore down a chute is not exactly what I would call something of interest.” Marissa smiled at this, she had probably never seen Richard put on the spot like he was now. “Well Mr.Regan, you never know until you know. Lead the way.” Dirk gestured to the door. Regan glared at Drik. Richard was beginning to realize that this man was here to lay his plans at nines. The ships that had arrived were about to load up 10,000 tonnes of ore, and represented the first of his back door 'Cash Deal's' he had been making in order to get the cash to buy the company for himself. He lead the way for the trio to the stations operations centre. Ops here was a small clear dome placed ontop of the station in a central hub, to allow the controllers a clear view of the loading docks in order to observe the loading process with their own eyes. Regan walked straight to the comms station and proceeded to hail the lead transport, clearing it to dock and commence loading. Dirk had shifted over to a nearby info screen, and had brought up the stations manifest. Sure enough, these ships were not listed. Now was the time. Dirk pressed a tile on the screen of his wrist device. “Commander Drake,” Dirk said flatly, “Are you in position?” Regan spun on his heels. “Commander? Just who the hell are you anyways Mr. Danger and who are you speaking to?” Dirk ignored him. A female voice came from Dirks communicator, “Yes Sir. Cressida standing by for your orders.”
“Cressida, de-cloak and intercept that ship. Knock out its engines with the pluse cannons if thats what it takes.” Suddenly an apparition of a ship appeared, solidifying in the shape of a Fearless class Crusier. The ship thrusted forward and cut off the approaching transport. “Mr. Danger!” Shouted Regan, sounding most appalled, “This is outrageous and illegal! Explain yourself at once!” Regan started towards Dirk, speaking through clenched teeth. Dirk had a puzzled look on his face and pointed at the screen. “Richard this must be a rare mistake for you. Those ships are not on the stations manifest. They might be pirates and I insist that you turn them back immediately!” Richard grabbed Dirk by the arm and shook him. “You don't give any goddamned orders around here! I don't know who the hell you think you are but your done on this station!” The door to the ops centre opened and in trooped a heavily armed security team from the Ganymede. “Sir!” Reported the Sergeant in the lead, “We encountered no resistance, the station is secure. Is everything alright here?” Richard let go of Dirk, stunned at what he was seeing. “Who am I Richard? I'm Dirk Danger, Senior Trade Officer of Phoenix, your new boss.” Dirk looked Richard straight in his eyes. “I forgive you for not really knowing who we are, but let me assure you when it comes to acquiring Zoner facilities, there are few more approved parties then us on this side of space my friend. The Cressida has just come here from the Freeport with all the required proof you need that we just bought out the outstanding liability in this base. Those ships are not on the manifest, so they are not docking here. Unless you have something to say about it Regan?” Richard face had drained of its previously beet red colour to a pale fleshy white. “You really don't think I would let this place get bought out by those loony Core guys over on Nauru do you?” Dirk put his hand on Richard shoulder, pulling him close to speak in his ear. “Look Regan, I'm going to cut the bullshit here, I don't know what I just saw here, and to be perfectly honest I don't really care to find out. Another thing I don't care to do is to bollocks around looking for some other bum to run this station, do you catch my drift Regan?” Richard stared at Dirk and nodded. “I really hope you do Richard, because I really think maintaining continuity of operations is very important to all of our successful futures together don't you?” Dirk was squeezing his shoulder now, and flashing his game winning smile. “Yes Mr. Danger.” Richard said flatly, “There is no issue here... Sir.”
“Well that's super news, let me relay that to the Sergeant for you and we will be on our way, for now. The only thing you need to concern yourself with Richard, is the continued obviously top notch administration of this facility. You wont notice much of a change. Some of the ships might get renamed, but nothing the effects the real operation of this company. As far as Phoenixes involvement goes, you can consider yourself a most junior grade officer of our merry little band and we will never be far away. Commander Drake out there in the Cressida will be keeping an eye on the station for all of us, and you can call on her should you need any little thing at all. She will also be keeping an eye one who comes and goes from this facility. Now Richard, you don't have any reason to leave the station anytime soon do you?” Richard was almost shaking now. “No sir.” He almost mouthed at Dirk. “That's Great Richard! I knew you were on board! Now, I'm going to get out of your way. Please have Marissa find some quarters for about 40 security personnel that will be staying with you for the time being. And please don't forget, I'm never far away Richard.” Dirk patted Richard on the back, “You take care now Richard.” And with that Dirk returned to the Ganymede, leaving the agape Marissa and the shocked Richard to their new, old jobs.
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