The Ace of Spades Campaign - Raid on Sterling part 09

Meeting Alfred Sterling
Next day, Mearc Sterling contacted Kimberley to tell her that he had arranged a meeting with his father for later that evening. It would take place in one of the dirty office buildings that stood on the verge of the starport.
"Why so late?" Kimberley asked.
"Both my father and I are worried that the bandits may have spies in the city," Mearc explained. "We'd prefer to wait until its fully dark to reduce the chance of being spotted."
"Okay, then I guess we'll wait."
The rest of the day passed without incident. Storm was well on the way to full recovery after the beating she'd received during the bar-room brawl at Pablo's Place. Thanks to the medical facilities on board The Ace of Spades and the healing skills of Judith and Gwendoline, there was only slight bruising to her cheek and forehead, which could easily be concealed with cosmetics. In another day, she'd be fully healed.
When Mearc arrived night had already fallen and the hour was late. He told Kimberley she could bring as many of her crew as she wanted. She put the offer to her crew. Celeste, Danica, Gwendoline, Jeanette, Julia, Katja and Kyran agreed to join her.

The walk from the ship to the office building was not a particularly difficult one. The route, however, was fully exposed to the view of anyone who cared to look. This made everyone except Kimberley, Gwendoline and Kyran nervous. The others, with their military and espionage experience, were on the alert all the time. Every one of them, including Mearc, were armed with pistols. Three of them, Jeanette, Julia and Katja, also carried rifles in both hands at the ready. Gwendoline had her Phaser Rifle slung over one shoulder. They passed a few starport staff and a group of four mercenaries but none of them appeared to pay the party much attention.
Once they reached their destination, Mearc led them up a flight of grimy stairs and down a short, dimly lit corridor. At the end of the corridor, he knocked on a drab metal sliding door and spoke his name in a low tone. A muffled voice replied from the other side. The young man's shoulders sagged with relief and he pressed the button that slid the door open. There, seated behind an ancient wooden desk in the unlit room, was Alfred Sterling.

The elder Sterling was about 60 years old, and showed all the signs of hard living. His face was browned and wrinkled from years of exposure to the sun. His neatly trimmed beard and moustache were as white as the hair on his head. His shoulders were broad and strong, though slightly stooped, but his brown eyes shone like that of a man half his age.
"Come in," he said softly as he stood up to greet them, "Quickly, and shut the door."
His whisper carried the tone of a man used to being obeyed.
Once the door was closed and firmly bolted, he began to explain the situation.
"I am Alfred Sterling, founder of the Sterling Agricultural Colony. We have a large communal farm in the eastern hemisphere of this planet, near Lake Flagon. We are harming no one, and all we want is to be left in peace to tend our crops.
"Not long ago bandits began raiding our colony. Their leader, a man known only to us as Erik, claims to be the governor of the Lake Flagon district. Once a month, he and his band of cut-throats show up and demand a portion of our crops, or our profits, to keep them from destroying the colony. Erik calls this extortion "taxes."
"The final straw came when we were unable to meet Erik's latest demands, half our crops and a quarter of the last harvest's profits. When we refused to pay he and his bandits set fire to the fields. Before we could extinguish the blaze, four homes were burned and two of our people were dead.
"We approached several of the mercenary companies who train on Breuse, asking them to take on the task of guarding our colony, but they refused. They all said that there wasn't enough profit in it. I sent my son to Achamandra, hoping that he could find a small band of freelancers like yourselves. I am glad he succeeded. Thank you for coming to our aid."
"That's not a problem, sir," Kimberley said. "Tell me, how many men did this Erik have with him?"
"The most I ever saw was fifteen."
"And how were they armed?" Julia asked. "Were they armoured?"
"They mostly had military assault rifles and some sort of body armour. I'm sorry but I'm not fully conversant with arms and armour, but they looked like the kind I've seen some of the mercenaries use here in Downport."
"The assault rifles," Julia wondered, "were they beam weapons or projectile weapons?"
"Definitely projectile. They certainly weren't lasers or blasters."
"What happened when Mearc was off planet?" Kimberley enquired.
"We tried to fight back," Alfred said with a shrug and a despondent sigh. "The attempt cost us four dead, eight wounded and three burned farms. The truth is, we're farmers not fighters."
"Don't worry, sir," Kimberley reassured him with a smile that exuded confidence. "We're here to help you. We'll sort this out for you."
"I am very grateful," Alfred said nodding his head in approval. "Now if you could, I'd like you to prepare the arms and armour you purchased for us and to be ready to travel at first light."
Kimberley agreed and soon after the meeting ended. The party returned to The Ace of Spades.

Bad News

Early next morning, Kimberley, Celeste and Julia returned to the office to escort Alfred to The Ace of Spades. He was waiting with Mearc, Royce and Sheas, who had all joined him earlier. It was obvious from the look on their faces that something bad had happened. Before Kimberley could even ask what was wrong, Alfred blurted out, "the bandits raided the colony last night. Only this time they weren't looking for plunder, but for hostages."
"What!" Kimberley exclaimed, shocked at this turn of events. "What exactly happened?"
"After you left last night I contacted the colony to let them know that help was on its way. But a few hours later I received an urgent call to tell me that the bandits had struck again. They smashed down a section of the colony's fence, tore up a portion of the fields and rolled into the centre of the housing section. Erik stepped down from his vehicle and told my people that he knew about our plan to hire offworld mercenaries to drive him and his men away. To protect his men and himself, he took half a dozen people hostage. Four of them were members of the central committee."
Here his voice faltered as he gulped and carried on. "The other two were my wife, Radula, and my 20-year old daughter, Danielle. Erik has threatened to kill one hostage for every bandit killed. I believe him. He will do it!"

"The bastard!" Mearc fumed. "If I catch him I'll wring his fucking neck! He can't get away with this!"
Royce and Sheas were just as shocked by the news but neither reacted as violently as Mearc. They just shook their heads in dismay.
"I think under the circumstances," Alfred said forlornly, "that it might be best if we cancel our contract with you, Miss Wells. I can't risk the lives of my wife and daughter."
He was clearly distraught and the confident, authoritative demeanour he had shown last night had been replaced with abject defeat. His whole body posture was that of a broken man.
"That won't be possible," Celeste interceded. Celeste was probably the most taciturn member of the crew. She rarely ever spoke, unless to answer a question. She was, however, more open around Kimberley and Julia, both of whom she enjoyed spending time with. Kimberley looked at her with a quizzical eyebrow raised as the android continued.
"Under the terms of the agreement, you cannot void the contract unless the agents, that is us, fail to perform their required tasks, which we have not. I don't have the actual contract with me but I memorised every word of it."
"She's got you there," Kimberley said knowingly. "We agreed to this job and we will carry it out."
"I do apologise," Alfred said as he regained his composure. He straightened his shoulders and raised his head to look Kimberley in the eyes. "You are absolutely right. Forgive me but this has come as quite a shock to all of us."
"Apology accepted," Kimberley said with a forgiving voice.
"If your ship has its own cargo shuttle," Alfred said, feeling a bit more like his old self, "we can travel to the colony in that, assuming we'll all fit in. Otherwise I can arrange for a couple of our own shuttles instead. I'm afraid our landing site is far too small for any ship bigger than a Class I."
"That's not a problem," Kimberley reassured him. "We have a decent sized shuttle that will fit all of us and your cargo in, although it will be a bit of a tight squeeze."
"Let's go then."