The meeting with the rest of the Battalion Commanders was mostly a rehash of the dinner conversation, with a few more details about the Derrax system added by the officers who had stayed to study it.
The Rum disappeared before they arrived, as General Yaakov insisted that it was inappropriate to be drinking during a Command meeting, but from what Max could tell, it wouldn’t have made a difference, as there wasn’t much left when the bottle was put away.
As the details about Derrax came out, the meeting devolved into general complaints about having to deal with a nation as poorly run and repressive as they were. Only the intervention of Inquisitor Ming kept things on track.
“Remember, you are not here as Kepler Mecha Pilots but as Reavers of the Terminus Trading Company. If you can’t learn to behave appropriately for the role, I will have to use my Command authority to keep you confined to the vessel with communications locked.” Inquisitor Ming admonished them.
Reavers and Mercenaries weren’t picky about their clients, as long as they reliably paid, and this stop was a necessity to create their cover story before rushing off to help Kepler’s allies against the Klem.
It was agreed that if anyone asked, the shipment they were picking up was a time-sensitive one for their client, so they had a good excuse not to stand about and chat.
Derrax was forbidden by treaty from sending weapons to other nations, so instead, they sent raw materials, civilian equipment for the rebuilding, and rations when they were asked to help with an emergency.
That way they could build a reputation as reliable without losing more than they intended.
That suited Max and the other Commanders just fine. Both them and the troops they were going to assist would need any and all of the above, so they would take what they could get to fill the cargo hold that wasn’t occupied by Mecha.
Reavers paid for their shipments in advance, there was no IOU system or consignee transfers. When they got to the destination they would be paid for the goods, with markup for their efforts, and that was what kept them in business.
In the rare case that a Mercenary or Reaver ship was used to transfer aid supplies that the other side wasn’t expecting to be paid for, it was seen as a sign of trust. They had the goods, and they were out nothing but reputation if they didn’t all make it to their destination. Since they were notoriously independent, that didn’t happen often, though the Reavers did take some for the larger nations, as a sign of goodwill, to keep their fleet moving through that nation’s space duty and harassment-free.
Max was quickly learning that the carefree life of a Mercenary wasn’t as simple as it looked on the surface, but it was still much more relaxing than that of a regular soldier, even if he did have his unit doing daily training drills while they were in transit.
[Transfer to Slower than Light travel in 8 hours, destination Derrax Prime.]
The ship’s announcement broke up the meeting, and everyone agreed to meet again in six hours to work out their final details and prepare to meet their arranged employer.
Max returned to his bunk to rest up before the meetings, falling easily asleep with a half dozen shots of Rum in him, and waking up only mildly groggy when his alarm went off five and a half hours later.
That gave him just enough time to shower and change, then head up to the Officer’s Mess in his finest faded denim jeans and Leather jacket. Paired with a band t-shirt he had been given on Comor, he blended right in with most of the crew that he passed, and would have fit right in with the slums he grew up in if he had been a little less clean and a little more ragged.
Max decided that this was his look for casual wear. He had gone through dozens of styles, mostly thanks to Nico throwing clothes at him, but this felt the most like himself.
Inquisitor Ming looked him over and nodded in approval when he got to the Mess Hall where most of the other Command staff was seated, waiting on the last few to arrive so they could get started.
Nico looked Max over from head to toe, then got a slight frown on her face and began to dig in the backpack that she had brought with her.
“You all are too bland. Not you General, or the Inquisitor. But none of the rest of you have any jewelry. We can’t be coming across as that poor, or worse, as some weird fundamentalist cult.
Fortunately for you, I prepared for this on the way up. Costume Jewels for everyone. Grab a chain, a watch, a bracelet, or a leather bracer if that’s more your style. Just do something to spice up your looks.” Nico instructed, dumping the bag on the table.
Max was wearing a coat, so he didn’t need much, but there was a gold rope with a number of fake rubies in it that caught his eye. With that, plus one lighter gold chain around his neck, he decided that he looked suitably not broke.
Nico had her usual goth meets steampunk look on, with the sleeveless leather jacket and pleated skirt over ripped stockings, but she also had gold bracelets on her wrists, a necklace with a strange coin hung from it, and diamond stud earrings.
“You all look fantastic.” Colonel Klinger cheered as he came in, dressed much like Max but with a worn-out leather vest instead of a jacket, and a long-sleeved black and white plaid shirt. The look was a familiar one to Max. Dave had often worn almost exactly that outfit, except he almost always wore black fatigue pants instead of Jeans.
He also had rings on every single finger and a thick chain around his neck, but that one looked like real gold to Max, so he probably dressed like this on his time off, and it wasn’t a costume to him.
General Yaakov began his speech with a stiff adjustment of his coat, smoothing the irregularities in the lace trim. “Good, that is everyone, and you all got the memo. I’m sure you all read the debriefing that I sent over the break, so we won’t go over it again, except for the most important points.
The Terminus Trading Company is from Rae 3 if anyone asks. Imperial Command has placed a beacon that can contact us in the abandoned facility there. Most likely, nobody will go looking for us in person, as they know the planet is uninhabited and we aren’t there at the moment.
Don’t forget everyone’s nicknames, if they prefer them, and stick to the ones your comrades have given you, no making up new ones on the fly and confusing the others.
Once we reach Derrax, they will instruct us where to dock or land to exchange cargo. Major Nico will be our spokesperson, as the Terminus Trading Company is working as an upstart branch of the Tarith Reavers. That’s nothing new, any Reaver with enough backing and a ship can try to branch out on their own. The others encourage it, because they will either succeed and spread influence, or they will fail and fall deep into debt, letting their counterparts gain a lifelong subordinate.
Colonel Klinger, you are her bodyguard, since you understand the unspoken language as well. The rest of us will stay off camera during video links and a step behind during meetings. We want to get in, get loaded, and get out. The Tapani are waiting for us, and this load.”
They all gave the fist to the chest salute, then relaxed back into their informal states.
“Alright, Rage, Klinger, you need to head to the bridge and wait for the call. The rest of you can wait wherever you like, but you will be needed at Cargo Bay six once we are docked.” General Yaakov dismissed them with a wave of his hand and left the room to finish his own preparations, whatever they might be.