OOCS: Of Dog, Volpir, and Man - Bk 8 Ch 71

Sir David 

The Black Khans' base is a surprisingly expansive affair. It spreads throughout the underground of the mountain-city of High Canis, incorporated into a variety of manufacturing and infrastructure spaces - power plants, sewage and water treatment facilities and so forth - as cover. It’s complicated terrain for those who don’t intimately know the local politics; the Golden Khan's military has plenty of underground facilities as well, but these prestigious locations tended to be a bit higher in the mountain, where the Black Khans have spread down into the foothills and onto the plains surrounding High Canis. 

Some of their territory is well-located and fundamentally valuable; the spaceport has a significant amount of Black Khans territory beneath it: tunnels and warehouses to enable smuggled cargo to flow right in and out among the legitimate cargo coming in and off world by the hundreds of thousands of tons every single day. 

It’s a rather impressive operation. 

Shame the Undaunted are about to burn it all to the ground… if these blighters don't see the wisdom in Jerry's offer of peace. 

They probably could have made that offer less forcefully, but Jerry had the right of it. 

On and off Earth, gangsters are all generally the same. Many of them are bullies and small-minded thugs - no resources, little ambition, pawns for their masters. The bigger criminals get used to being big fish and not having to fear... but, still, come from a culture in which they have to knuckle under for a bigger fish or risk death. Such power plays are the lifeblood of organized crime, wrapped in pantomimes of 'respect' and 'honor' throughout the underworld. 

To interact with it properly, one has to communicate to them in a language that they understand. 

Force. 

Raw. Naked. Force. 

Gold, appealing to their greed, would make them want more and amounts to paying tribute. It could work, but it’s suboptimal for a variety of reasons. Making them FEAR, on the other hand. Well. Criminals of any species tend to act rather like animals when under pressure, in Sir David's opinion. They understand things like fear and pain far better than appeals to logic or reason. 

It has to be managed properly, of course. You have to give them an out. Put their backs against a wall completely and they'd fight, like any other animal - but make sure they know you have the capacity to destroy them, but won't, and give them a direction to run to get their necks out of the noose, and they'll frequently dance to your tune. 

The approach doesn't cover all varieties of scum, of course. Terrorists, truly motivated, loyal, dedicated ideologues, basically need to be hunted to extinction for the safety of the body public. There simply isn't a way to manage them. A love of money and easy living is far easier to manipulate than fervent belief in whatever the terrorist in question holds dear, be it religion, some cursed political ideology, or some other flavor of nonsense.

Fortunately, this lot don’t appear to be zealots.

Sir David watches from the catwalk he'd concealed himself in as the woman they'd identified as Enturas walks around, bawling out some of her girls and bashing them across the chops. The Black Khans capo is nervous. Not because of the attacks - they still feel secure in this place - but because a good number of the actual Black Khans, the leaders of the organization, are on-planet. 

Having an emergency meeting. 

Likely because of ongoing tensions with the Undaunted. 

It’s a shame in one sense, at least. 

Near as Sir David could tell, there’s another player stacking the deck against the Black Khans, just like the Tear's intelligence specialists and Judge Rauxtim suspected. However, the Black Khans had caused plenty of trouble all on their own, and the attempted kidnapping of the Bridger family's cadets, a bunch of teenage girls who were under arms in only the most technical sense, was - is - more than enough to earn the Black Khans a solid thrashing. 

Lucky for them, Admiral Bridger is merciful. 

He gave CanSec the distraction locations. He’s not giving CanSec this base. 

Yet. 

The Admiral intends to deal fairly with the criminals. He doesn't want a war with another group of thugs after all... but, of course, Jerry Bridger wouldn't hesitate to bring the wrath of God if that's what is needed. 

Speaking of which.

"Dagger six to all points. Case Angel is in effect. Execute."

Case Angel means they’re to handle the issue at hand non-lethally. Case Reaper had been the code name for wiping the base off the map and putting everyone in it in irons or in a body bag. 

Nice and simple. 

"Stiletto Six acknowledges. My teams are all in place and awaiting the Admiral's arrival." 

Sir David smiles to himself as his eldest child's voice echoes across the radio. It really is a point of deep pride for him to have so many children following him into the family business - a business that seems ever more intertwined with the house of Bridger with every passing day. If that means he’s fated to end his life as a senior vassal to a prince and khan who ruled a world... Well. So be it. 

Sir David casually rolls over the rail of the catwalk and drops down to a large pipe silently, crawling forward, comfortably invisible as he gets himself an angle on Enturas, pacing back and forth. 

The sensitive auditory sensors in his helmet pick up the muttering capo as she talks to herself. 

"Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. I told those stupid cunts to not fuck with the Humans. Couldn't have just reached out and been gentlewomen about it. Maybe a mea culpa for the shit with the Hag. Coulda thrown that cunt Calra under the shuttle and avoided all of this, but fucking no. Now my warehouses are going dark all over the fucking system, and what do I get for this? I get shit dumped in my fucking lap because some stupid bitches can't keep their guns in their holsters!"

The grumpy Cannidor smashes a table with a big fist. 

"FUCK! War's gonna be awful for business. We can't raise our profile like this! The council's fucking insane! That's even if we win or get a draw - and these guys took out the Hag! They have a fleet. A military. We have lower-grade power armor and a massive network of fixers and two credit thugs with pistols! Sure, we can fuck 'em up, but fighting straight up is outright suicide! Goddess damn those stupid whores."

David settles himself into position, listening as double clicks come across the radio, indicating that across the hangar various bad girls are going dark even as Enturas continues to rant to herself. She actually seems like a smart sort of criminal. Perhaps she’ll be due for a promotion if the Black Khans end up with a few holes in their ruling council to fill? Something to consider, if they could influence it to push the Khans towards slightly more positive behavior. 

Nothing for it for now, though! There’s work to be done! 

David watches as Enturas wanders closer to the pipe he's resting on, still ranting to herself; when she turns and looks away, he slips over the pipe boots-first again, landing his whole weight square on her shoulders! The startled Cannidor finds herself forced to the ground in the literal blink of an eye, letting David easily reach down and hit her with an axiom nerve pinch, leading the Cannidor capo to go limp beneath him.

He quickly starts zip-tying her wrists and ankles together, then adds a pair of light trytite bracelets. 

It isn't a long term solution, but it only needs to last long enough for the Admiral to have his meeting. Sir David double clicks his own mic and starts slowly wandering towards the control center. As he casually ambles down the halls, a door flies open; he vanishes from sight as a Horchka woman bursts out of a room, weapon drawn. 

"Girls!? Something bad is ha-" 

The gangster cuts off mid-word as Sir David casually reappears behind her, having slipped up and hit her with another axiom nerve pinch; he’s rather coming to enjoy that approach. 

He gently toes the gauss pistol out of her hand, then kicks it across the corridor out of reach before divesting her of her knife and tossing it near the pistol. Then it’s a matter of trussing her up like Enturas. Another double click of the mic, a quick check of the room the Horchka had been in, and Sir David resumes his stroll, resisting the urge to hum or whistle to himself. Maybe pull his swagger stick out of an axiom pocket and twirl it. 

Sure, he almost certainly could, especially with his sealed face plate keeping all the sound he could be making in - but really it is just bad form, and absolutely begging for trouble, to be quite that casual about a military operation. 

At the control room door, he pauses for a second as the access keypad starts to flash. Petty Officer Westbrook - or Kopish, rather - doing her usual stellar work leaves him standing there for only a moment before the door opens and he steps into the room where the Black Khans controller, such as she is, is hard at work with her counterpart. 

They’re delightfully oblivious.

"Okay, we have the Starseer coming in through access tube seven... and the automated systems have her. So job done. On the ground in five."

"Oh, that's the priority shipment. Enturas has been up my ass about that all fucking day! Maybe now that they're here she'll finally calm the fuck down!"

"Not likely. She's been freaking out ever since someone made an attempt on Khan Bridger."

"Mhmm." David can practically hear one girl frown. "That's still weird. Who the hell would take a swipe at a man that publicly? It had to be one of the women on the council, right?"

"I guess, but why lie about it if they didn't?"

"Eh. Not like anyone's telling us the truth anyway... There we go. Starseer's into her berthing. I'm going to go get a drink and tell Enturas before she carves a hole into the floor pacing, damn it." 

The gangster controller stretches slightly before trying to rise from her chair, only to be forced back down into her seat by David's iron grasp on her shoulder. 

"No, I think you ladies deserve a break."

A charge of axiom and both women are unconscious, more fodder for his expanded pocket full of zip ties. Then he makes his way down to the bay where the Starseer’s settling onto her landing gear. 

David phases into visibility as the Starseer's cargo bay looms open and her boarding ramp extends. 

Four power armored women march out, weapons lowered and at the ready, and David mimes a proper British salute as Jerry steps out of the cargo bay, looking like a titan of war in his shining power armor. 

"Colonel Forsythe, good to see you. Status?"

"Oh, just out for a stroll, old boy. The base is ours. Save for the council's spaces."

"They're unaware?"

"Completely."

David swears he can hear his commanding officer grinning behind the imposing armored facade of his helmet. He’s doing well at listening for facial expressions today.

"Then let's go inform them of the change in management around here."

Series Directory Last