Hunting The Storm Ch. 01

"Getting this lot would take us two days alone," John pointed out once they were back in his cabin. "There's a lot of stuff on these lists."

"Who usually does your trading for you when you're in port?" Gregor asked.

John shrugged. "Whoever needs to."

"Cook and Bump used to handle the trading back on the Bolt-On, and Gunner would go with them to provide security, but it was nothing like this," Gregor said, his brow creased as he frowned. "It was usually just Bump getting the parts and Cook getting the supplies. I'd wait on the ship and usually within a couple of hours we were loading a new cargo, all organised for us already."

"Well, it ain't like that out in the real world, brother," John told him. "Your runs went from secure controlled ports to their destinations with little or no hassle, and your cargo was organised for you. Out here it's a different world. You've got to trade for what you think you can make a profit on and some of the ports are downright dangerous. People will try to steal from you, sell you a cargo they don't have, and some of the transactions are sorted out with everyone holding a gun."

"How the hell did you get mixed up in all this?" Gregor asked a moment later. "I remember my brother being a quiet kid who spent a lot of time plugged into games and wouldn't even play sports because he was scared of any kind of conflict."

"You disappeared," John said simply. "I wanted my brother back, so I started looking. When you were declared dead after the usual three months, I sold off your apartment and everything I owned and bet the whole lot on a pit fight. The winnings bought this ship. After that it was a case of trying to get a crew together who didn't want to kill me and steal the ship, and we had to do a few unsavoury things, piracy and the like, but it was all about finding you, brother."

"You've really changed, John."

"I know," his little brother shrugged. "For the better though, I think. I'm not that quiet little kid any more, I can stand up for myself and I can fight when it's required too. Most importantly I know how to use my brain and I'm good at reading people and figuring out their motivations. I still don't like conflict, but I know it's avoidable so I guess I learned to deal with it."

"And Thugly?"

"He's a big puppy really." John's eyes filled with affection. "He had it tough growing up, sold into slavery and raised to fight in the pit. He'd been champion for a year at nineteen years old and I don't know if anyone had ever loved him."

"And you do?"

"We've been together for two years now, and we've both changed a lot in that time. I guess at some point we'll get formally wed but neither of us are in a hurry. We've got too much to deal with first."

"Like finding your missing brother?" Gregor smiled.

"Exactly, brother."

"Well I'm glad you did, and I like the new you," he said. "It's nice not to have to clout you round the head to get your attention because you were zoned out in some game for three days."

John chuckled. "Those were the days. And to think I used to get stressed about my life then. Now it's chasing about the system following information on kidnappers, slavers, cloners and mind-controlling corporations and I'm having a great time of it."

"I bet," Gregor smiled. "Right, I'm off for some sleep. We've got nine hours before we dock on that Moon. We'll assign responsibilities before we land."

"Sure thing, brother."

"Night, John." Gregor left his brothers cabin and wandered back to his own, glad to see Cook had cleaned up the desk before leaving. Pilot was already fast asleep in bed, no doubt worn out from hours of play with the insatiable Cook, and after the days work, Gregor felt as tired as she was.

He flung his clothes into the corner and slipped into bed.

"Wanna fuck?" Pilot mumbled, still half asleep.

"Go back to sleep," he said gently. "We've got a long day tomorrow."

"You sure?"

Gregor looked at her naked form under the thin sheet and felt a familiar tingle. "Now that you mention it," he said quietly, slipping in behind her.

All of the crew were either in the cockpit or the upper gallery as they came within view of Old Earth and its single Moon.

"It looks very white," Pilot said, frowning.

"Those are clouds, moisture gathering in the atmosphere when it evaporates," John explained. "At least I think that's what it is." He shrugged.

"Wish you'd paid more attention back in school, brother?" Gregor smiled. He turned his gaze away from the legendary planet and focussed on the Moon to their port side. "What do we know about this dock we're going to?"

"Its part of a cargo hub managed by Universal Freight Shipping Conglomerate, under contract to the facility managers," John explained. "The Basciluss stopped here a couple of months ago, dropped a cargo of tech parts, collected an unknown cargo and departed again a few hours later."

"You're got the images of the crew?"

"Right here on a pad," John nodded. They planned to try and land at the dock and ask if any of the loading crew remembered meeting any of the crew of the Basciluss, but Gregor knew it was a long shot. Likely they wouldn't get to land there at all without a delivery order, so they'd be forced to land nearby and see if they could speak to the loaders another way.

"Receiving landing data," the ships AI announced, and Pilot and Gregor both flicked it open on their consoles. There were twenty seven different docking facilities on the main port, set into the side of a natural canyon. Above the canyon was the resort, full of tourists and educational groups, historical teams about to set off on excavations on Old Earth, as well as the usual traders, workers and colonists.

"Which one's the Universat Freight dock?" Gregor asked, and Pilot highlighted it, a blinking yellow light appearing on his screen. The facility was set to the far right of the canyon, with a blue domed building in the centre of it. Surrounding the dome was a number of cargo ships of various designs.

"Want to hit them up?" Gregor suggested.

"Universal Freight Port, this is Freighter Super-Sizen, requesting permission to dock." John lifted his finger from the comms terminal and bobbed his head from side to side, awaiting a response.

"Super-Sizen, this is UFSC OEM facility control," a woman replied a few minutes later. "We don't have you on our shipping manifests. If you have a cargo delivery number please send now."

John frowned. "We have no cargo delivery number for you, UFSC control, but we were hoping to land anyway. We have matters to discuss."

"Landing at a UFSC facility requires a cargo delivery number. As you have none your request is denied. Please utilise one of the many public docks in the main terminal and visit our office for an appointment. UFSC OEM facility control transmission terminated."

"Just like that," John nodded. "Efficient, disciplined and tightly controlled. We're landing somewhere else."

Pilot highlighted half a dozen different options, and Gregor didn't really see the difference between any of them, so he told her to just pick one and land the ship.

The Super-Sizen drifted in gracefully to port seventeen, and the controller ordered them into hangar eleven, a mid-sized building halfway up the canyon wall. It was standard practice for landing ships to hire a hangar that they could secure themselves while they stayed. Rates were steep though, but fortunately with the cargo of Scandium Ore they carried, credits wouldn't be a problem for quite a while.

Pilot brought them in to land with a gentle bump and the hangar doors closed behind them. While she shut down the engines, Gregor and John moved to the main deck, where Gunner and Thugly, were waiting for them. "Ready to go, Captain?" the redhead asked.

"Sure," Gregor nodded, taking the laser-rifle she held for him. He slung the strap over his shoulder, checked his pistol was secure in its holster and nodded. John led them downstairs and as the cargo elevator dropped them on the hangar floor, an infobot approached them.

"Customs and Immigration have scanned your ship and declared you clear to proceed," the droid said as it stopped in front of them. "Your dock fee is one thousand credits per twenty four hours."

John pressed his thumb on a reader on the info-bot, and a green light appeared.

"Transaction approved. Do you wish your cargo to be listed for trade?"

"Listed?" Gregor asked.

"We can list your cargo as a whole or in part to notify traders what goods have come into port. You will then receive offers, should anyone wish to bid."

"List our cargo as ten kilogrammes of Scandium Ore," John told the droid.

"Do you have a starting bid price or would you prefer an open auction?"

"Open auction is fine. Set a close on the bids for twelve hours time."

"Thankyou," the droid replied. "Moonbase trade terms require a one percent transaction fee for all goods bought or sold. Do you agree to the terms?"

"Yes. So agreed," John said. "Can you also list these items as supplies we're looking to purchase?" He handed the droid a data-pad with some of the more routine items listed on it. They'd agreed before landing that they would try and handle the more exotic ones themselves.

"Thankyou," the droid repeated. "Moonbase trade terms require a one percent transaction fee for all goods bought or sold. Do you agree to the terms?"

John rolled his eyes. "Yes. So agreed."

"Thankyou. Do you have any other business I can assist you with?"

"No, that'll be all," John replied, dismissing the droid. It turned and shot off across the hangar bay towards the big door on the left. "Shall we?"

Gregor followed John out the door with Gunner and Thugly flanking them. They entered a large concourse full of vehicles dragging cargo containers back and forth and a small passenger shuttle pulled up.

"Destination?" a voice asked them as they hopped aboard.

"Show map," John replied. A holographic map appeared in mid-air and the brothers examined it while Thugly and Gunner kept watch. It showed the layout of the level they were on, a long sprawling line of ports and docks, with warehouses and cargo routes.

John pushed a finger on top of it, pushing the map down and showing them the next level up. The layout changed to show several trading malls, with shops and booths set up in each, along with a couple of medical clinics.

The next level was the last below the surface and held several touring craft docks, a large underwater recreation facility and several large residential areas. They'd already seen the surface area on top of the canyon as they came in to land, littered with museums, theme parks, hotels and bars.

"Medical clinics first?" John suggested, and Gregor nodded.

He took a seat while his brother set the destination on the holo-map, and moments later the passenger shuttle shot off along the busy thoroughfare. It darted right, then left, then shot upwards before shooting off at breakneck speed along a narrow passage. It slowed a few minutes later and rose out of a shaft, drifting to the side to deposit them at the medical clinic.

"Seven credits," the voice told them, so John pressed his thumb onto the console and a green light appeared. "Transaction approved."

"Come on," John beckoned as they got off the shuttle. The four of them entered the medical clinic and John checked another holo-map, leading them to an elevator. It went down a couple of floors then shot off to their left, the doors opening a few seconds later.

Gregor saw a sign on the wall. Trade and Supply Counter.

John led them through a set of doors and up to a desk, manned by a hugely obese man in a green suit. "Can I help you?"

"We bought a cargo of medical supplies a few days ago and the company that was buying it went bust. We wondered if you might be looking to buy some of it?" John said, his tone casual.

"What do you have?" The man in the green suit sneezed suddenly, catching it with his left hand then wiping it on the underside of his desk. John flicked up the data on his pad and placed it in front of the man.

"Don't touch that with your left hand," he said bluntly.

"Of course not, of course not," the rotund man replied. He scanned the list, muttering to himself as he viewed its contents. He frowned, and tapped his own console, quickly filtering a list of his own requirements. It printed out from the front of his desk and John tore the old-fashioned paper off.

"You're joking?" he asked the fat man, hit tone anything but light. "This list is easy for us to fill, but at that price it's not worth the effort to get it out our hold."

"That's what we're prepared to offer," the buyer replied, folding his arms across his chest, his pudgy fingers interlacing. "Times are hard."

"No they're not," John sneered. "The system economy is doing fine, and the Moonbase here is one of the top tourist destinations, so don't sit there and lie to my face. Offer us a reasonable price."

"I think that is a very reasonable price," the fat man smiled.

"I think we'll go elsewhere," John said firmly, lifting his datapad from the desk. "Last chance to amend your offer before we go to your competitors?"

"Pah! They're in no position to buy any supplies anyway."

"Meaning?" John frowned.

"Meaning we have all the contracts for the hotels and venues, as well as most of the major trade consortiums and facilities here on the Moonbase. We get all the business and they're going out of it." His chins wobbled as he smirked at them, his expression smug.

"Well if they can't afford it, we'll take it somewhere else to sell it," John said firmly. "Let's go."

"Perhaps I can go a little higher," the fat man said as they turned, making them pause. "Perhaps another three percent?"

John didn't even grace him with a reply. The four of them walked out. It didn't take them long to get another shuttle and they arrived at the other medical clinic a few minutes later. This one wasn't as brightly lit or as well maintained as the other clinic, but the trade officer was a lot friendlier. She wasn't able to take as much as the other clinc offered, but the price was a lot more reasonable and she even offered them a drink while they chatted. Her name was Margarita.

"So where are you off to after the Moonbase?" She must have been nearly eighty years old, but she was sharp as a pin.

"We're going to look at some digs down on Old Earth and then head back to Jupiter, I think," John replied. While they were on the surface, John was going to take the lead as Gregor was out of practice after three years aboard the Bolt-On.

"There might be a facility down on the planet that will take some of those supplies off your hands," Margarita suggested. "Want the co-ordinates?"

"Sure," John nodded, uploading them onto his datapad. "Anyone I should ask for?"

"Try Sally or Slint, and ask them to put you in touch with Mister Blunt."

"Will do," John nodded. He held out his datapad for the old lady to press her thumb on, and a moment later the screen flashed green.

"Transaction approved," the automated voice on the datapaid said.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Margarita."

The four of them left the clinic and John smiled. "That's eleven thousand credits in the bank now, which is great. I was nearly broke there."

"Shit, John. You should've said," Gregor told him.

"Don't worry about it," his brother told him. "Besides, the Scandium Ore will go for between eight and nine hundred thousand per kilo, so we're not exactly skint, are we?"

Gregor chuckled, having never owned that much money in his life. "No, I guess not."

"Come on," John said, walking towards a nearby shuttle. "We've got some shopping to do and orders to place, brother."

For the next nine hours they worked on their lists of equipment. A custom console manufacturer looked at the items they wanted and haggled with them for an hour over how long it would take, eventually agreeing to deliver it to the ship the next morning for a hefty price. Supplies, equipment and everything from Cooks sex toys to Thugly's muscle-growth drugs flowed into their hangar as the day went on, until eventually the four of them returned to the ship.

Thugly immediately went up to the room they'd put the old and new gym equipment into and began to assemble it all, while Gunner took up post in the hangar with her sister, overseeing the delivery vehicles that came in and out.

Spark, Flams and Cook were loading their deliveries into the Cargo bays or storage lockers in the galley, engineering or the tech bay, and Pilot was busy sorting the new furniture Gregor had ordered up for the main deck, splitting the big room up into several areas of sofas, armchairs, tables and bookcases. A huge box of books sat in the corner.

Everyone was busy and while Gregor checked the deliveries against the orders and receipts, John checked on the auction status.

"Two hundred and eleven bids so far with an hour to go," he told his brother. "That's not too bad."

"What's the price at?" Gregor asked.

"Eight hundred and fourteen thousand, five hundred credits per kilo," John grinned, quickly joined by his brother.

"Shit, that's a lot of credits," Gregor said. "Definitely enough to cover all this stuff though," he added. Most of the orders they'd placed that day had been done on the strength of the ten kilos of Scandium Ore they had up for auction. Once the transaction was through, the payments would be issued to the suppliers for the goods already delivered.

"We've spent one hundred and fourteen thousand credits today," John smiled. "A fortune in anyones books and that's what? Two hundred grams of the Ore? We've only got another hundred and fifty kilos of the stuff too."

"I know. This is surreal," Gregor smiled. He wandered out to the hangar to check which deliveries had just come in and saw two large cases with a familiar label on them. He dragged them both on the lift and stopped it at the main deck. "Pilot. Got something for you."

One of the large boxes contained new clothes for Pilot, while the other held a few outfits for everyone else that wanted them. Gregor also had several in there too, but Pilot had one box all to herself.

"Is that my new clothes?" she blurted, heading over and ripping the box open.

"Stop, Let's get it into the room, shall we?"

They dragged the large box into Gregors cabin and he left her to it, folding items into piles on the bed, making excited little noises he usually only heard when he had his tongue in her pussy.

The crew worked hard for the next three hours, giving out the Scandium Ore to the lucky auction winners or getting everything loaded aboard and either stowed away or ready to install on the ship the next morning. Cook served them a very rushed dinner before disappearing to try out her new toys, quickly joined by Gunner and Guarder, while Thugly took watch in the hangar. John drifted off to bed, declaring it exhausting being a multi-millionaire, and Spark and Flams returned to their workstations, too excited at the thought of all this nifty kit to play with.

That left Pilot, who smirked and headed for Cook's cabin to join the girls in a bit of playtime, and a yawning Gregor headed for bed.

He fell asleep but a knock on his door woke him a few hours later.

"Come in," he called, sitting up. The door opened and Spark walked in, wearing a black vest top and shorts. She looked very tired and pissed off.

"Look, I know you guys are... programmed to be horny all the time, but I can't sleep for the noise in Cook's room," she said flatly.

"Still going at it, are they?" he said, stifling a yawn.

"Yup. With gusto."

He shrugged. "Sleep in here if you want?"

"Thanks, but that wasn't what I came here for," she said flatly, her hands on her hips. "Can't you ask them to stop?"