Guy in the Chair

Captain Charming smiled at the cameras and waved to the assembled crowd. I turned off the sound before the standard speech and crowd adulation. It was enough to keep an eye on the imposing figure in matte black ballistic armor and helmet. The live news carriers were showing the same thing from another angle, with crawl text that changed depending on the carrier.

“Cap Charming saves major galactic shipping hub.”

“Charming thwarts attack by suspected Trinalaxian dissidents.”

“Charming voted ‘Most Eligible Bachelor’ second year in a row. What makes him so dreamy?”

“Most Heroes for Hire are human — follow for the surprising reason.”

It was time for me to get Charming out before anyone took notice of just how much damage was done. As a Hero for Hire all damages were, of course, the responsibility of the hiring party, and there was insurance for that sort of thing. Standing around long enough for someone to get pictures, video or… void prohibit, holos of the hero with the damage was a good way to drop their ranking and reduce the chance of being hired again. Besides, the Galactic PeaceKeepers were on scene, and when they finished picking up the perps, they might try to capture Charming for questioning.

I was still pondering that as I pulled in over the crowd and deployed the RAD; rapid ascent device … a rope on a fast pulley. Captain Charming gave one last wave to the crowd and grabbed the rope. It pulled in fast enough to launch the hero into the ship well clear of the closing iris, to roll to a crouch, right where the boots locked into the floor.

“Let’s get out of here.” Captain Charming’s voice was a full, rich baritone, amplified by the helmet.

“We’re already headed for orbit and in the queue for exit to the gate.”

With a fluid ease born of countless repetitions, the hero lifted off the helmet, hooked it to the wall, and opened the armor. As soon as we entered orbit and weightlessness, she disconnected from it and floated toward her more properly sized prosthetics to connect first to the arms, then the legs.

“Welcome back, Carmen. Where to?” I asked.

Her voice was high with a rough edge to it. “Back to Earth. Time for a service on the armor. The right hand—”

“Has a response lag of nearly half a second,” I finished. “Left lower leg actuators are operating at only ninety-four percent power, too.”

“I thought something felt a little off.” Carmen strapped into her seat before the jump through the gate pushed us into them with the swift, uncomfortable squeeze of a gravity wave.

Once we were in the hyperlane with nothing to do, I set an alarm to remind us to strap in before we reached the exit gate. “Was it really Trinalaxians?” I asked.

“Let me guess, Andalaran news said it was.”

“Suspected, they said. Andalarans blame everything on the Trinalaxians.”

“Well, I’m sure they’re in for a shock when the GPK picks up all those Andalaran mercenaries loaded with Gort Technologies weapons, tech, gear, and — get this — Gort Tech ID badges.” Carmen pulled a meal bar out of storage, took a bite, and let it float near her while she worked on chewing the dense mouthful she had.

I wondered for a moment what it would be like having to eat as often as a human. “I looked up what I could on their ship. It traced back to a private mercenary force.”

“Andalaran?” she asked.

“No, Darkspring PMC. Human owned, less than a year old, with members from all the Galactic Union species.”

“Oh, not again” She muttered something under her breath. “What facilities does Gort have on the station? And what about their main competitor, Aryx?”

“Gort Technologies… just a small transshipment dock. But,” I said as I sent the information I’d found to her terminal, “Aryx Interstellar has a research outpost there.”

“Let me guess, the outpost isn’t at all critical to Aryx.”

I dug through all the less-than-public records I could find for Aryx Interstellar. “You’re right. It’s been underperforming and basically a giant money drain. Why would Gort Tech bother?”

“We got the anonymous tip about an attack on the station in time to be there when the mercenaries were just getting off their ship.” Carmen talked around another mouthful of the chewy meal bar. “I bet if you trace the origin far enough, it goes back to Aryx. I also bet that’s also who hired Darkspring for the attack.”

“I can look that up when we’re back in regular space,” I told her. “Their encryption is DNA-based, but I know an unnamed person at an unnamed agency that can get the unencrypted Darkspring internal files without a hassle.”

She floated close to me and smiled. “Ah … my guy in the chair.”

“But I’m not—”

“Gal in the chair … no, wait … your species are all both ….” She shrugged. “Can we just take it as ‘guy in the chair’ is not gendered. Tentacled creature with a species name and personal name I can’t pronounce in the chair doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

“Fine.” I pointed to the transit timer to make sure she knew how long she had until she needed to strap in again, and then it hit me. “Wait! If Aryx Interstellar hired the mercenaries to attack their own research center, why would they hire us to get there in time to stop them?”

“False flag operation.” Carmen sighed. “It’s reason enough for them to shut down the money sink … for security concerns … and save money and their standing with stockholders. The primary purpose, of course, is a pretense to corporate war. Of course, the Galactic Union will do everything it can to prevent it, but at this point it’s a done deal.”

“I should warn headquarters. We don’t want Heroes being pulled into this mess.”

“Yes, good idea. Warn headquarters that Aryx is going to war against Gort and already has Darkspring on their payroll.” She tapped her prosthetic fingers together as she did while thinking. “Find out how much they’re on the hook for. They had to pay well, knowing that the operators would get picked up. I just wonder if it’s too much for Gort to buy Darkspring out from under them. Otherwise, it could get messy.”

“I’ll make sure my contact gets all the data related to the attack.” I pointed to her seat as the alarm chimed. “Strap in, oh mighty hero.”

Carmen strapped in and looked at me. “I’m glad you’re my sidekick, but what made you want to do this kind of work?”

This was something I’d pondered often. “I wanted to help out and have a lot of respect for most of the Heroes for Hire, but I wouldn’t want to deal with the crowds… or the cameras in my face… or the danger.”

“Whatever the reason, I’m glad you’re here. I couldn’t do half of what I do without you.” She grunted as the gravity wave passed and released her straps. “I’m surprised that you weren’t the least bit curious about why the so very manly Captain Charming was actually a tiny, quadruple amputee woman.”

I positioned my upper manipulator tentacles into a shape that mimicked one of her shrugs. “It makes sense,” I said. “What good is a secret identity that can easily be traced to you? Everyone knows that Captain Charming is a big, strong human man, and everyone that knows Carmen Ruiz knows you aren’t any of those things. Good job on acting camera shy and afraid of public speaking when you aren’t him, by the way.”

Carmen cleared her throat. “That’s not acting.”

I thought for a moment. “What I’m hearing is that you are only comfortable in the spotlight when you are him.”

“Bingo. So, when will—”

I cut her off. “I’ve already sent the request for info to my contact. They’ll send the data to me at the repair facility.”

“That’s why you’re my guy in the chair.”