Captain Avery The Galactic Bank Heist

1.1: Bariki Bar

  The band played a jazzy style rhythm and a soulful female broke the air with her sweet tones. Strange blue smoke lifted in the semi-dark tavern that Captain Avery found himself in after a long-haul trading journey from a star system that was so far away, that no one in the bar knew where it was, nor cared. But, the profits had put him in a good financial position to upgrade his ship to something with more teeth, that was able to equip him in his new venture, that of Bounty Hunter. Well, that was what he had planned.

  ‘Avery!’ said a voice from over his shoulder. ‘Fancy seeing you in this dive. What a coincidence!’

  ‘Phillips, I thought you were dead!’ Avery said with some trepidation.

  ‘You can’t kill a good pirate that easily. No, I turned evidence against my former boss Roberts and they let me go, as long as I behave myself in the Republic’s jurisdiction. Well, you know we are in the Federation’s sphere of influence, therefore, no one knows of my previous life of crime in the space lanes. Can I get you a drink Avery?’

  ‘No allow me; I have had a very profitable journey from Veedfa.’

  ‘Where?’ said Phillips.

  ‘Never mind,’ Avery raised his hand to get the barman’s attention. ‘Barman, two large ones please, and have one yourself Henry.’

  ‘Thanks, you’re a valued customer Captain Avery.’

  Drinks were duly drawn from large vats that were set behind the bar, and Avery paid, with the biggest note that Federal Law allowed to be used in bars, 500 Federal Francs.

  This rose Phillips’ attention and his eyes widened. ‘Avery,’ he said in a fake friendly tone. ‘Your luck is clearly in. I have a business proposition that you may be interested in? Let’s go sit over in that corner, so no one can disrupt us.’ His hand was now on Avery’s back.

  ‘Phillips,’ Avery retorted, ‘I’m not interested; I have big plans of my own.’

  ‘Just hear me out,’ Phillips returned, as smooth as a waiter in a Sky Restaurant.

  Phillips guided Avery over to the corner; they sat down and regarded each other over their chilled alcoholic drinks.

  ‘What were you trading from Veeeee…?’ asked Phillips.

  ‘Veedfa,’ corrected Avery.

  ‘Yes, Veedfa, what in the cosmos were you bringing that far? And by the looks of it, for so much profit?’ asked Phillips.

  ‘I’m not at liberty to tell you that Phillips, as my customer has sworn me to secrecy. Let’s just say that it is the only place in the known universe that you can get this.’

  Phillips whipped out a hand-held trading calculator and proceeded to type in.

  V.E.E.D.F.A. There revealed the complete trading list of that system.

  ‘You won’t find it on there Phillips,’ said Avery with a little annoyance.

  ‘Look Phillips, I will tell you. I don’t suppose it will make any difference, now I have been paid: alien technology. Drive systems, life support systems and high-end computers, found on a deserted moon. Illegal, yes, highly profitable, of course.’

  ‘Well, well,’ said Phillips with no surprise at all. ‘Some corporation, I have no doubt, has paid you enough to retire and buy yourself an island in the Sea of Serenity, I guess?’

  ‘Not quite, one more job and I will be hanging up my space boots, for good. No more lonely trips into unknown worlds for me, oh no. Find myself a wife, settle down and watch other desperadoes take-off from this space port, from a safe distance away!’

  ‘Well, that is where I come in my friend. I have had the best tip-off this side of Vega. Whilst waiting trial with Roberts, I got talking to this old hand, who told me of a transfer of a bank, from one system to another. All assets, gold, silver, valuables from safety deposit boxes, the lot!’

  ‘How many escorting fighters Phillips?’

  ‘Ten max.’

  ‘Why so few?’

  ‘They do not want to draw attention to the fact that they are doing such an important move in one go. Less protection, the less attention they will raise.’

  ‘How many others are in on this already?’

  ‘Only myself and Captain Rackham - no good telling too many people.’

  ‘What are you planning to do with the freighter after you have control of it?’

  ‘We plan to hyperspace it to the Sol System.’

  ‘But that is out of bounds to all Empire, Federation and Republic vessels,’ stated Avery.

  ‘Precisely, that is why no one will look there.’

  ‘If The Council catches you in their territory, there will be all kinds of ramifications for you, and your relations,’ warned Avery. ‘They can turn your life upside-down, in an instant. Best not mess with their powers.’

  ‘Only if we get caught,’ said Phillips with a smile.

  ‘We only plan to off-load the freighter, onto a planet there, transfer as much booty as we can out of it, then back to a star-port, to trade our new found wealth into disposable hard cargoes.’

  ‘This sounds crazy Phillips, but, I think it might just work,’ pondered Avery. ‘What are you flying these days?’

  ‘A Lynx Mark III, with beam lasers and Intergalactic hyper-drive, you?’

  Avery paused for a moment. ‘I have had my eye on a Lion S Class, for many years now, but could not justify the FF1, 000,000 until today.’

  ‘Well that is a double case for celebrations,’ stated Phillips. ‘Are you in Avery?’

  ‘I’m in!’

  ‘I’ll get these next ones Avery,’ said Phillips rising from his seat.

  The two men sat drinking and talking about old times, dogfights over the moons, of some planet, they were trying to recall, but could not remember for the life of them.

  ‘Somewhere in the Encheho System, was it not Phillips?’ asked Avery.

  ‘No, Faquze, we left Encheho, and then headed off to Faquze. One of those outer planets, I believe, took them by surprise, blasted three in the space of five minutes.’

  ‘No,’ retorted Phillips, ‘four, in five minutes.’

  ‘We were a good team back then Avery,’ reminisced Phillips.

  ‘The best, the best!’ repeated Avery.

  ‘Death or glory!’ said Phillips.

  “CLUNCK!” went their fourth and final drink, of what turned out to be, a very profitable evening, for the Bariki Bar. The band played on, as people came and went. Avery forgot about his bounty-hunting career, after the offer of a lifetime. Fame, would also be on the agenda - that of infamy - as Avery had been noticed, by one of The Council’s informers.

  ‘Yes, that’s right, he just left, Avery, Captain, with another Captain, Phillips. . . . No, there was nobody else . . . Okay; I’ll stay in place, Henry signing out.’ The barman replaced the handset, went back to wiping the bar, and serving the occasional late night customer.

  1.2: Spaceship Park

  Amongst the state-liners intergalactic traders, and moon shuttles, stood Phillips’ beaten and battle-worn, Lynx Mark III. It looked as if it had been through a spray shop, some years ago, and now was reverting to its original matt grey, through the metallic blue coat. Still, Phillips did not need to apologize for the appearance of his wreck. Some rows back, was Avery’s rare but battered Manx IV, hand-built on one planet, in the Zehocu System.

  ‘Wow Avery! You never said you were flying a classic, well how much did you pay for this?’ exclaimed Phillips.

  ‘I didn’t,’ replied Avery.

  ‘You didn’t?’ Phillips paused for a moment. ‘Oh, right I see you acquired it on your way somewhere?’

  ‘No, not at all Phillips, I won it fair and square in a game of cubes.’

  ‘I bet the guy was gutted.’

  ‘No guy Phillips. Her name was Monica, and she was very reluctant to part with her pride and joy. That..,’ Avery paused, looked Phillips in the eye, and said, ‘well let’s just say she almost kept it.’

  Phillips raised an eyebrow, and changed the subject. ‘The back tail is so short. That must go at some rate of speed.’

  ‘When
you hit hyperspace you get zero drag and your brain does not feel like it is being squeezed out of the back of your skull,’ explained Avery. ‘The trouble is that it attracts too much attention in space: too many other pilots out there who would like to get behind the controls. I’m better off trading it in, for something practical and spacious, like the Lion S Class.

  ‘I’ll buy it off you Avery. Sell my bucket, or exchange it. So you can trade it in. Come on Avery, I let you in on this scheme. What do you say? You don’t need the extra money. Just think about the cash you are going to get, when we hit that bank freighter. You can plaster your S Class with Francs from bow to stern!’ argued Phillips.

  Avery’s judgment was a little clouded after the drinking session and he weighed up the offer and concluded, ‘Alright Phillips! It’s yours! Let’s go and trade yours in before I change my mind.’

  So off the men headed, in the direction of the all hour’s spaceship sales lot, where Avery, had first clapped eyes on the Lion S Class, after he had landed some twelve hours ago. Of course, it was still there. No one could just walk into a dealer and pay cash for such a vessel, until today that is.

  Avery and Phillips, stepped into the dealership’s sales office, a pressure pad on the mat sounded an over used buzzer which raised the salesman from his slumber “Buzz”.

  ‘Eh . . .,’ blinked the salesman adjusting to the situation, ‘. . . what can I do for you gentlemen?’

  ‘We want to buy one of your ships,’ stated Avery.

  ‘Well,’ said the salesman, rising from his chair, ‘you have come to the right place.’

  Avery proceeded to undo his padded pants, much to the surprise of the salesman and Phillips.

  ‘What.., what are you doing sir?’ said the salesman, a bit concerned that this was not the usual behaviour of a customer.

  ‘Don’t concern yourself, said Avery, ‘I just need to. . pull. .this. . zipper.’

  “Zip”. Out onto the floor of the showroom office, fell bundles of FF100, 000, into a rough pile. Phillips moved to the door and locked it, with the defective buzzer sounding in a strange, approving manner.

  ‘We also have a ship to trade in, a Lynx Mark III,’ stated a surprised looking Phillips.

  ‘Well gentlemen,’ said the salesman, ‘I think I can help you. What were you looking for?’ The sweat gathering on his brow.

  ‘I’m looking for a Lion S Class,’ said Avery, ‘some multi-drive system would be an advantage - but not something that couldn’t be changed later - and I would need to have a large cargo hold, enough to carry 2, 000 tons.

  ‘That’s conceivable though,’ replied the salesman. ‘The cargo capacity would be restricted down to 1,750 tons if you were to fit a multi-drive unit. However, this space is usually plenty enough for most bulk traders. What is it you are looking to trade, or is that none of my business?’

  Avery looked at Phillips. Phillips’ eyebrows were raised, as if to say, who does this guy think he is?

  Avery replied after a short pause. ‘That is right Frank,’ as he read his name badge, ‘it is none of your business.’

  The salesman, Frank, had obviously smelt illicit trade at the men’s entrance, and their display of wealth was far from orthodox. They had seen all types pass through this sales office, mostly run-of-the-mill small-time traders, upgrading their vessels for something bigger, that would enable them to store more cargo, or to hyperspace greater distances, to take advantage of a better market price for their wares. These two, were obviously scheming something: something big, with a 1,750 payload. The barman, at Bariki Bar, paid well for information about new trade routes, which were netting a wealthy return. He in turn, would sell this information onto customers, who were looking for new trading opportunities. He was involved in all kinds of deals. Percentages of cargo sold, to straight cash deals. Frank, had even heard that he was selling information to The Council, but no one was sure, but Henry, was so slippery, that anything was possible.

  Avery, put the money back into his pants, whilst Frank opened the office door, he led the gentlemen outside, to show them the S Class that had been sitting there, for maybe six month. No one had made a sensible offer for it and Frank and his business partner, Louis, were not going to sell it in a hurry - which they both understood. So there it sat, tempting pilots as they came in to land. However, this was the first time that Frank, had shown anyone around her.

  1.3: Lion S Class

  ‘Isn’t she a beauty?’ exclaimed Frank. ‘Look how sleek she is, slender lines and a reflective silver finish. Fast, large storage and holds its value like nothing else in this galaxy...’

  ‘How many light years has she done?’ Phillips cut in.

  ‘50, 000,’ replied Frank, ‘nothing for a well built ship like this. She can probably do another 500, 000, if not double that, before her drives would need a complete overhaul. Well worth the FF950, 000 that we are asking for her.’

  ‘And with the trade-in?’asked Phillips.

  ‘A Lynx Mark III with how many light years?’ asked Frank

  ‘300, 000 with a new hyper-drive fitted 100, 000 light years ago.’

  ‘Well,’ said Frank, rubbing his chin. I could offer you FF25, 000.’

  ‘30, 000, I think would be fair,’ returned Phillips.

  ‘I’ll meet you halfway, 27, 500.’

  ‘Done!’ said Phillips, spitting on his gloved hand and shaking Frank’s

  Frank had lost track of the amount of times he had had to wash his hand, after deals with men of this type.

  ‘Here are the entry codes.’ Phillips pressed them into Frank’s other hand, ‘She’s parked over in row W, next to that yellow freight liner.’ Phillips pointed at the yellow freight liner, which was not hard to miss, even from way back at row A, which stood directly in front of the ships’ sales compound.

  ‘Let’s head back to the sales office gentlemen, and you can sign the papers for the Lion S Class, and hand over the rest of the money, if that is okay with you?’ suggested Frank.

  ‘Yes, that is fine with me. I would however like to take a look inside, before I buy such an expensive item,’ said Avery.

  ‘Of course!’ Frank produced the electronic drive stick that opened the door, and slotted it in the small hole, in the side of the ship. ‘Let’s take a look gentleman.’

  With a “Whoosh”, the steps to the S Class came down and popped out, as if they had been inflated by air.

  ‘After you,’ said Frank, to his only customers of the night.

  The men entered the S Class, and were overwhelmed by the luxury fittings. Real woods, fabrics, and gem stone lighting. ‘As you can see gentlemen, the ship is fitted out to the highest standards, has real minuk skin wall coverings, which keep the vessel warm in the coldest of outer space environments. The dials are built by Febre, the finest watchmakers this side of Alpha Centari.’

  ‘Yes, I approve of the style,’ said Avery. ‘Nothing that would put me off here.’

  ‘Can you fit the hyperspace drive?’ asked Phillips.

  ‘Yes of course.’ replied Frank. ‘Let us see now FF20, 000, would cover parts and labor. It would take two days to arrive from Uszaa, and another two days to install.’

  ‘What do you think Avery?’ asked Phillips.

  ‘I think so Phillips, I think that’s all I need to see. Let’s get back to your office Frank, and work out the paperwork.’

  The men descended the steps and with an equally impressive “whoosh”, the steps lifted and disappeared without the seal being visible to the naked eye. A ship had just entered the space parking area, and was hovering about, to see where it could land.

  ‘I think that maybe . . . that is. . . Captain Rackham, coming in to talk business!’ said Phillips.

  The ship, now identified as a Panther XL, lowered its three landing feet and nestled neatly into the middle of the rows.

  ‘Row L,’ Phillips guessed.

  The three men entered the office, the buzzer sounded out, as each man walked over the mat ??
?Buzz . . . buzz. buzz”.

  ‘Okay gentlemen take a seat,’ Frank instructed.

  Both men sat whilst Avery performed his pants trick, which had surprised last time they were in the office. Avery gathered up the bundles, placed them on the table, and sat down next to Phillips.

  ‘Well,’ said Avery, ‘I make that I owe you FF942, 500.’

  ‘That . . .,’ as Frank rooted through a draw producing a calculus and after much tapping concluded, ‘is correct.’

  ‘Here,’ said Avery, ‘I’ll give you FF943, 000; keep 500 for a new re-spray on her. I want to have it done in metallic blue.’

  ‘Yes sir, no problem, but a re-spray is only 250 max.’

  ‘Keep the rest, for a tip, you’ve done a good job, you probably have a wife and kids. Take them off to Snow World, or somewhere for a good holiday.’

  Frank smiled. ‘Thanks, you are going to love the ship when you take her over. Frank rubbed his chin. ‘Another day for the re-spray, so come back in five days gentlemen, and she will be ready to take to the stars,’ repeating one of his favourite sales lines. ‘Yes, that's all good, so if I can have the documents?’

  ‘I think Phillips here, has the documentation, for the Lynx, haven’t you?’ Avery asked.

  ‘No, not exactly, I will have to go and talk to Rackham about that, err. . . I kind of lost -’

  ‘Save the paperwork and the documentation until we pick her up?’ Avery asked Frank.

  ‘That’s fine gentleman. I have your money here, I will give you a receipt for that, so we keep everything above board,’ stated Frank.

  Frank shuffled around in his draw again, pulled out a well-worn receipt book, which looked like the previous owners had left it. Avery, looked at Phillips, and Phillips could only shrug off the glare that was coming his way. Phillips had been economical with the truth before, and Avery was beginning to feel like he had then, being kept in the dark, about what was really going on.

  ‘Thanks gentlemen,’ said Frank, as he handed over the receipt to Avery, apparently completely oblivious, to what had passed between Avery and Phillips.

  Phillips and Avery got up, shook Frank’s hand and left in silence, except for the defunct buzzer, sounding their departure.

  As the men left the compound, Avery felt his blood boil and could not help himself.

  ‘What the hell are you playing at Phillips? You have just traded in a vessel you don’t own anymore. What other tricks are you playing? Are you sure about the bank move, or is there something else you are not revealing?’ By this time, Avery found himself holding Phillip’s collar, and had to stop himself from going further. Avery brushed his hands on his legs, and stepped back.

  ‘Well my old friend, I can sort this out in a turn.’ Phillips said, whilst straightening his collar. ‘I owe Rackham money for the ship, granted. However, I can pay that back ten times over, after we capture that freighter. Let’s go talk to Rackham. He said, last month, that he was going to be staying at his usual hotel, the Arumba.’

  ‘That’s the five star rated place, on the far side of the city. Why was he parking here, why not there?’ inquired Avery.

  ‘He wanted to take some gem stones into town, to meet a dealer first. Rackham does not want to be traced, so I suggested he parked here,’ said Phillips with a little smugness.

  ‘Okay, well, how are we going to get there this time of night?’ asked Avery.

  ‘Sky-taxi of course! There’s a rank outside the Bariki Bar. Let’s go back there and take a ride to the Arumba,’ insisted Phillips.

  As the men walked past their old ships, they both, in turn, gave each one a loving look, like the departing of a long and trusting relationship, which had had a profound effect on their lives. Avery tapped the stunted rear end of his, and now Phillips’ Manx Mark IV. Phillips had a tear in his eye as he passed by his Lynx Mark III.

  1.4: Sky-Taxi

  ‘Taxi!’ hollered Phillips.

  A red shape loomed out of the dark star studded sky above Bariki Bar, which was now closed, and all its patrons gone to bed: not necessarily their own.

  The taxi hovered for a moment, the automatic door swung open, and a woman’s voice called out.

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘Arumba Hotel,’ replied Avery.

  ‘Fine, get in gents. Double fare this time of night.’

  The two men stepped into the floating car, the lady driver tapped the meter twice to double the fare, lifted off above Bariki’s extinguished sign, and up over the office blocks that had cast shadows over the walkways during the daytime.

  ‘What are you guys doing in the entertainment district so late at night?’ asked the driver.

  ‘Not what you think,’ retorted Phillips.

  ‘Well most of my customers, this time of night are usually going to, or coming from, some clandestine visit to a secret lover, or are visiting some of the more colourful establishments.’

  ‘That is not our business lady,’ replied Avery. ‘We were buying a new ship from Frank, at the used ship yard.’

  The sky-car span around the highest buildings in the Government District, that during the day was closed to all traffic; due to various terrorist organizations that had sprung up across the planet. This was the result of a wave of pro-Republic nostalgia. Although it had been almost one-hundred years since the Federation took control, elements of pro-Republicans were still offering resistance, sometimes providing explosive reminders of the planet’s past elegance.

  ‘Ah Frank, I know Frank,’ said the driver, ‘he is what we drivers call a regular. One of us usually picks him up after he finishes - goes straight home ninety percent of the time. The other ten percent, well, that is not for me to divulge really.’

  ‘He seemed such a family man,’ inquired Avery.

  ‘Oh he is,’ replied the driver, ‘the other ten percent of the time, he goes off gambling at the Casino at the Arumba. I think he spends most of his profits on the tables.’

  ‘What’s the name, driver?’ asked Phillips.

  ‘Marie. The names Marie,’ I used to own my own trading vessel - until I was caught bringing in illegal goods into the spaceport. It was my last run, until I was to sell-up, and buy myself a chain of beauty parlours, with a luxury house out by the lakes,’ said Marie with a sigh.

  ‘What was it you got caught with?’ asked Avery.

  ‘I don’t like to admit it, but it was drugs, not your street type, no sir, not me. It was prescription drugs, to be sold on the inter-web, undercutting the major pharmaceutical companies. It seemed they had a tip-off from someone. They were disguised as candy in candy jars. Did that run up to twenty times, never had any bother with inspections, even offered a taste to one officer who thankfully declined,’ reflected Marie.

  ‘That was a good scam,’ said Phillips admiringly.

  There was a strange silence, as Marie manoeuvred the sky-taxi around a giant fast food sign, which hummed and flickered, as they passed. Two other taxis passed by, going towards the Government District. Avery noticed suited men in both, fat bloated government types, burning the midnight-oil on the taxpayers’ expense.

  ‘What is your business in Diso City?’ inquired Marie.

  ‘I’m putting a small fleet together to do a job that has the promise of being a life changer,’ replied Phillips.

  ‘Sounds better than driving a sky-taxi for the next ten years. That’s my fate before I can even think of giving it up.’

  ‘Any experience of space fighting Marie?’ inquired Phillips.

  ‘Yes, quite a bit when I was hopping out to Leesti, trading in farm equipment. I usually had to take on a space pirate or two. But luckily my vessel was well armed and fast.’

  ‘What was it?’ inquired Avery.

  ‘It was a Puma LS,’ replied Marie, with a certain amount of regret in her voice. ‘I had to sell it to pay off my fine, and besides I was banned from trading, for five years.’

  ‘How long ago was that?’ inquired Avery.

  ‘Six years ago now
. I could go back to it, but I will never be able to buy myself another ship, let alone a part-share in one. I guess I will have to spend the rest of my working life doing night shifts.’

  The taxi had now entered the outskirts of the city, where some of the big plush hotels had located themselves, away from the noise and neon lights of the city centre. The taxi, lifted up and over one of the biggest, the Requiem, with its expensive grounds, swimming pools and tropical gardens.

  Avery looked over at Phillips, and Phillips gave him a knowing nod, as if to say that he was thinking the same. Avery cleared his throat, as if he was about to make a speech.

  ‘I have a proposal for you Marie.’

  ‘What’s that then? I’m not doing any funny business at your hotel gents. This taxi is for hire, but this lady is not! Got it?’

  ‘I understand. My proposal is purely professional,’ replied Avery, a little taken aback by the initial response. ‘My colleague and I are, as you know, on a business trip in a few days time, and we are in need of extra firepower and assistance in this mission. I cannot go into the details right now. However, it is enough to say, that if you will join us, you will have enough money to buy your place out by the lakes, and your beauty parlours, a hundred times over.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ demanded Marie.

  Avery continued, ‘It is clear that you can fly by the way, you handle this air-car with such dexterity and if you have fought pirates, then I can safely say you are welcome in on our scheme.’

  Phillips continued, ‘As far, the fact you don’t have a vessel does pose an issue. However, I’m sure,’ he nudged Avery and Avery reluctantly nodded back, ‘that we can lend you the cost of a ship. I do recall a nice Puma LS at the shipyard run by - ’

  ‘Frank,’ answered Marie.

  ‘Yes Frank, continued Phillips, ‘I reckon that he would still be there tonight, if you were to go back and pay in cash for the Puma LS.’

  ‘You have that much cash on you?’ inquired Marie.

  ‘Not me, but Avery has enough to cover the expense.’

  Avery undid his pants, and a surprised Marie noticed a tidy pile of sealed bills appear on the floor of the taxi’s rear seats. Both men noticed the raised eyebrows in the rear-view mirror, as a sign of surprise and amazement.

  Marie pushed down on the steering column of the sky-taxi; the car began to descend to its destination. Phillips realized that they were heading into the reception area of the Arumba Hotel, and hurried the conversation on.

  ‘So, Marie, if you meet us back here tomorrow around about three in the afternoon. We can all go over to Frank’s place and take purchase of our respective crafts, and make our way out of this star-port.’

  ‘What about the details? Where are we going to? What is the mission? The risks?’ protested Marie.

  ‘Safe to say, is, that the gains out-weigh the risks. That’s all I can divulge at present. If you are here tomorrow, you are in.’

  The taxi landed, the men got out, and Avery paid.

  2 USUAL BUSINESS