Chapter Fourteen - Goals of the Marionette
The loss of Richards was unfortunate, but the loss of his primary helmsman, Philips, at the hands of the brutish Saltarion traders had been a downright disappointment.
Murdock pounded his fist into the console on the arm of his chair, causing him to require a readjustment of the bandage on his forearm. Even he had not escaped injury on their last stop. The simple mission had gone ridiculously wrong, resulting in a firefight with the filthy Saltarion settlers.
It should have been a simple trade: the precious ore the settlers had mined, for food and water to ease their starvation. When Murdock inspected the ore and saw it was far under their required quota, he made the choice he felt was the necessary one. Cancel the deal and let them ponder over their mistake until his next visit, several months down the road.
Whether by their vile nature or by some form of juvenile desperation, they became panicked and violent as Murdock led his crew back to their ship, along with the crates of food stores. He admitted to himself that he had made a serious error in doubting the abilities of the feral and impoverished people. He also briefly considered what he would have done if the situation had been reversed, but shut that dispensable thought out of his mind.
The settlers had attacked him and his crew before they had been able to board their ship and managed to kill Philips, which cut the crew down to only himself, Daniels and Stevens. All of them had sustained injury and the cargo they had decided to take back had been lost in the struggle. They had been as close to defeat as Murdock had ever been, and the feeling did not suit him. Nevertheless, the delicious retaliation later would be the ultimate lesson for defiance against his Galactic Guard authorized crew.
With Richards gone they had been shorthanded, but still in a sustainable position. With Philips also eliminated, the crew was now too small to carry on any further than their rendezvous with Jak Phoenix and the later cargo transfer with Captain Cartrite. Phoenix’s final disposal would bring a happy ending to this otherwise unpleasant day.
After the mishap, Murdock considered moving away from the petty games with the herds of poverty-stricken colonists they had been dealing and trading with. It was nearly effortless money at one point, but the traders seemed to be growing too brave in recent times. He’d let them sweat it out for a while, quickly depleting their stores of food, water and supplies. He was, after all, doing them a favour by coming around to their distant and pitiful worlds, while most others steered clear. It was not his fault that these sluggards didn’t feel the need to work hard for a living.
On the other hand, these trades were actually starting to get too easy, which Murdock figured contributed to this night’s failure. When something became too simple, it was easy to ‘spin your wheels’ and allow your handling of the situation to become slackened. He was definitely going to start looking into some more complex projects, after he hired on a fresh crew.
He was also looking forward to the upcoming meeting with Cartrite. While he hadn’t yet seen him face to face, their communications had gone well. It had been Cartrite, several weeks ago, who had originally told him about the pieces he wanted in the abandoned freighter in the canyons of Scoparia. Murdock had then formulated a strategy and planted information and rumours about the ancient treasure, in an attempt to lure the ever-destitute Jak Phoenix to the location. The plans had of course been successful, with Jak rushing in and springing the trap, allowing Murdock to walk in unscathed and take the cargo right out from under Jak.
When they spoke, Cartrite had seemed eager to get his hands on the artifacts. Murdock hadn’t bothered to ask about the origin or intended purpose of the pieces, or even how Cartrite had known about them in the first place. Truthfully, he didn’t care. The money was right and would be plentiful if he could pull off the simple task.
The old space captain had sounded far more peaceful and quiet than Murdock had expected. It was rumoured that his health had been declining, even while his aura of tyranny still remained intact. He was calm and friendly when Murdock had spoken to him, but his voice still demanded respect. Murdock felt he had got on well with him.
Afterward, Murdock considered that Cartrite may have been misjudged by many people, as was also the case commonly regarding himself. He found that other less successful people are never eager to embrace another’s success and are quick to scorn or belittle the triumphs of the accomplished.
If everything went to plan and Cartrite was happy with his work, Murdock had opened himself up to the possibility of working with him again. He certainly wouldn’t turn down a job offer, if the subject arose.
One again, Jak had been extremely foolish in failing to see the trap coming. He was no different now than when they had worked together so long ago. In a way he almost felt sorry that Jak was so pathetic; always bumbling his way through life. He lacked stability and professionalism and seemed to blame Murdock for his troubles.
Murdock didn’t feel sorry that Jak would soon be gone. Jak deserved a defeat if he was to fall into another trap. Murdock couldn’t figure out how he had been able to work with him as long as he did. Either way, the galaxy could use one less panhandling pilot.