Omega Force: Rebellion (OF11), стр. 10
Jason nodded but didn't reply. He felt foolish for not having considered that himself. Even as technologically advanced as ConFed space was, each planet was run autonomously enough that they never really worried about being picked up on public safety cameras or scanners. It was simply impractical for a single authority to monitor thousands of worlds. But the Machine could have an entirely different method for pulling out keywords spoken aloud or watching for certain scanner signatures to pop up. They'd have to be more cognizant of that going forward.
Getting through immigration control was as brief and corrupt as most other planets Jason had visited. The right amount on an untraceable credit chit and they were waved through without so much as a body scan to make sure they weren't bringing in biological agents or weaponry over and above the type used for personal protection. In the case of the Omega Force team, they were packing enough discreet firepower to take on half a platoon of regular troops with even odds of being victorious. Jason packed the latest and greatest in Galvetic railgun tech, a type of weapon the Legions had adopted after seeing him use one so effectively. The new model they'd provided him with had a short, twenty-centimeter barrel with high-efficiency coils. Although not as powerful as the full-size carbine he normally carried, it still accelerated the projectile well into the hypersonic range.
Crusher carried a pair of heavy plasma pistols that were so big that Jason's hands didn’t even fit around the grips. They were a custom job that one of Saditava Mok's weapon suppliers hooked the big warrior up with as payment for a little side job that Crusher had been oddly tightlipped about. Kage, who had really come into his own as an operational asset lately, had the type of weaponry you'd expect of someone so slippery. He had little drones with explosive payloads, non-lethal weapons built into his clothes, and a slim flechette carbine he had strapped across his back. It was an impressive arsenal split between three individuals, each of them having at least one capability the others lacked.
"I'll need to make contact before we can start tracking this Qazvi Ba with any sort of accuracy," Kage said. "I'll need you two to wait around in this area and try not to look like you're watching where I'm going. These people are information brokers, not fighters, and if it looks like I'm bringing a pair of neck-breakers with me, they'll scatter."
"This part of the show is all you," Jason said, nodding towards an outdoor café. "We'll be over there."
Predictably, Crusher took the opportunity to stuff his face again while Jason tried to discreetly watch where Kage slinked off to. Once they'd parted ways the Veran had taken some time to walk up and down the store-lined walkway just outside the spaceport until he was approached by a pair of aliens. Jason recognized the species but couldn't recall the name other than they were one of those species that took offense when you screwed it up.
"Wonder when he'll be back," Crusher said.
"Don't worry…I'm sure you'll have time to finish your fourth course," Jason said, giving him a disgusted look.
"I'm in the middle of intense training." Crusher shrugged, reaching for another meat filled pastry that had come with some sort of hummus-like sauce. Jason continued scanning the crowd, ignoring the sounds coming from across the table. Crusher did have a point. Since he'd decided to get serious again about his fitness regimen, he'd quickly regained much of the former glory Jason remembered from when he'd first met the brute. Back then, Crusher had been more of a force of nature, a gifted fighter so powerful that even Lucky hadn't been able to overwhelm him with sheer strength.
Recently, for reasons Jason hadn't quite understood, Crusher had been torturing himself every day in the cargo bay with a training routine that would have killed a lesser being. One of the side effects of all this, aside from a surly attitude, was that his friend's caloric intake had skyrocketed. Crusher assured them that this was all quite normal, but Jason was skeptical. How the hell could Galvetor hope to field an entire legion of these guys if they also had to also bring an entire cargo fleet of food with them?
Kage followed the pair of runners away from the bazaar and down a ramp into the sublevels below the street. He'd put out feelers as soon as they'd landed and was dangling some enticing bait he knew someone was bound to bite on. As an off-worlder, he'd have to trade something that was at least twice the value of the information he wanted while also being careful not to get screwed over by some local con artist at the same time.
"Meeleos wants to know what you bring in offer," the smaller of the runners said.
"I only talk to someone who has what I want," Kage said. "No intermediaries and no games or I walk and go find one of your boss's competitors to deal with. Just take me to Meeleos."
They were both mizule, a species that was the lower-caste from a planet with two intelligent, dominant races. From the looks of them, they were from the same clutch, although the one talking seemed to definitely be the runt. He knew all the usual tactics, and from a smalltime peddler like this, and he wouldn't be surprised if one of these two actually was Meeleos, pretending to be a hired runner to make it look like his operation was bigger than it was. Kage used to do the exact thing when he was a youth of ill-repute on his home world of Ver.
"This way," the shorter one said, waving towards a sealed maintenance door. Once the