The Overnale branch of the Travellers' Aid Society was clean, comfortable, and thankfully quiet.  The vast majority of TAS members were ex-military, and many of them were either mercenaries, nobility, very wealthy, or some combination thereof - all of which valued their privacy and polite discretion.

Gunnar Iversson was showing his appreciation for this behavior by making the most of it.  The day was eleven hours old and he was still in bed, neither asleep nor awake but just relaxing in that semi-conscious place in-between.  The royal blue sheets were clean and soft, the plump pillows firm, the mattress adjusted just right for him.  The climate controls thermographically scanned his heat signature and ensured perfect sleeping temperatures, less a few degrees because Gunnar's TAS member file said he liked it that way.  The windows were blinded and would stay that way until he decided differently.  It was a sleep-inducing, stay-in-bed conspiracy of the highest order.

Gunnar's mind was more awake than his body at the moment ans so while he let the latter relax in its .  Extended unemployment had been murder on his bank account.  If he had his semi-monthly TAS high passage benefit he'd trade it for a medium passage, pocket the difference, and use it to get to the sector capital in Glisten or one of the outlying frontier systems where the need for mercenaries was high.  His passage benefit wasn't up for another month yet, however, so the quest for gainful employment would have to continue.  He'd entered his resume into the TAS dockett, so if any local merc tickets came up he'd be on the list of available persons.  The stable and secure Overnale system was proving to be somewhat less than a hotbed of mercenary activity, however. 

His groggy eyes spotted his wallet on the nightstand.  A couple of bills were poking out but he knew they were small denominations.  His remaining balance on his bank card was in the low triple digits.  If someone didn't start a shooting war pretty soon he might actually have to find a real job.

Bleepylebleep

Behind his wallet, the incoming call screen of the vid-com unit started flashing.

Bleepylebleep

Gunnar closed his eyes.

Bleepylebleep

Bleepylebleep

Gunnar opened his eyes and glared menacingly at the vid-com.

Bleepylebleep

Intimidation wasn't working.  He sat up like a reluctant schoolboy and scratched his head with a yawn.

Bleepylebleep

"Oh, alright, alright.  Answer audio only."

The pleasant voice of the attractive young front desk clerk assuaged his annoyance somewhat as it floated clearly like tinkling bells out of the communications device. 

**Pardon me for disturbing you, Mr. Iversson, but I have a Mr. Duncan Danacava here at the desk who is requesting that he be allowed to see you.  Shall I send him up?**

Gunnar sighed as sleep retreated even further from the realm of possibilities.

"Yeah, why n--uh--no." He shook his head, trying to clear it. "No. I'll come down." He wiped a hand over his face. "Gimme a few minutes and I'll be down."

**Yes, sir.  I will tell him.**

Gunnar slid out of bed reluctantly, but once standing he quickly and efficiently showered and dressed and was on his way down to the lobby inside of ten minutes. Curiosity was driving him but it would only go so far without being supplanted with something else of substance, so he diverted to the bar for a steaming mug of kaffe before heading into the lobby.

At his entrance into the TAS lobby, a sharply-dressed man stood up from where he had been sitting on one of the comfortable dark leather sofas against one wall.  He took a moment to smooth out his very stylish business jacket and adjust his cuffs before he donned a gleaming white smile that conveyed warmth and approachability and did everything to promote an air of positive energy just short of singing "Good Vibrations".

"Gunnar Iversson?" he asked as he closed on Gunnar.  "Duncan Danacava," he introduced himself, extending his hand for a firm shake.  He looked Gunnar up and down and shook his head once to the side with a slight nod.

"You're just the way I pictured you," he quipped as he steepled his hands at his waist.  His eyebrows raised and he leaned forward a bit in a conspiratorial way.

"I must say it's an honor to meet you.  Strictly speaking as someone who looks at resumes quite often yours was most impressive."

Duncan extended an arm to gently guide Gunnar into walking with him back towards the couch where the personable man had arranged for a small continental breakfast platter to be delivered.  There was a small basket of baked goods and some hard cheese wedges and two small carafes of local juices. 

"Veteran of the Fifth Frontier War, multiple tours in both the Sword Worlds and Imperial fleets, all very impressive."  He gestured for Gunnar to sit.  "Frankly I was surprised a man of your experience was available."

"Tell me," Duncan asked as he sat, "are you still seeking a ticket?"

Gunnar ignored the basket and stared at Duncan. The man seemed to hover on the edge of either trying to sell Gunnar something or trying to take him home, so the question about the ticket almost slipped by him. He looked askance at Duncan as he sipped his kaffe. One could find some version of coffee just about everywhere. The kaffe from the Sword Worlds came from a hardier, more robust bean, however, and drinking anything less seemed like a waste of time.

"What's the job?" he said after a moment.

Duncan leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees, also ignoring the breakfast, and used his hands effectively as he got right to it.  "Straight security job for a high denomination cash transaction," he explained clearly in a businesslike fashion.  "You'll be providing security for the money and one principal, in that order.  You get the money, escort it and the principal to the buy, wait for the principal to verify authenticity of the package, secure the exchange, and then escort the package and principal back to me."

"Obstacles or opposition?"

"None expected," was Duncan's ready answer.  "The seller seems square enough.  But with the amount of cash being so large, security becomes a necessary precaution."

He leaned back and explained, "I almost feel as though I should apologize.  This probably isn't much of a challenge for someone with your skills and background.  But to be perfectly honest I'll sleep better knowing that I had my bases fully covered and then some.  I believe in being careful, Mr. Iversson."

Gunnar shrugged in understanding. "Local, off world or out system?"

"Local," Duncan replied.  "The exchange will take place somewhere in the downport here in the next few days, we haven't worked out the final details yet."

A nod. "Fee?"

"Two hundred and fifty credits as a retainer which will be paid immediately upon your acceptance of the ticket, then another seven hundred and fifty at the start of the job, whenever that will be.  A final payment of one thousand credits will be made upon delivery of the package and principal to me at the end of the job, and I will cover all medical expenses which are the direct result of completing your duties as described here.  If the principal is dead upon delivery, the final payment is reduced to five hundred credits.  Obviously, if you fail to deliver either the package or a living principal then there will be no final payment."

Gunnar mulled that over while he sipped his kaffe. He set the mug down. "Just to be clear, if it comes to choices you'd rather have the package than the principal, correct?"

A quick: "Yes."

Nodding, Gunnar eyed the basket. Now he was getting hungry.

"Deal," he said, meeting Duncan's eyes.

Those eyes smiled wide.  "Excellent."  Duncan stood, offering his hand again.  "I'll have the ticket drawn up and submitted for your endorsement immediately.  The retainer will be credited to your Imperial Bank account as soon as your endorsement has been verified.  Is that acceptable?"

Gunnar nodded in agreement, shaking the man's hand.  "You got yourself a security guard," he said with a half-smile, all he could muster. He reached for his cup, resisting the urge to wipe his hand on his pants. "Send the date, time and location here. I won't be far."

Duncan Danacava had been true to his word.  Not two hours later Gunnar received a message via TASNET.  The ticket looked official and it had been copied to the local authorities as required by Imperial law.  The terms and conditions were laid out exactly as Danacava had explained, with no surprises.  All Gunnar had to do was endorse the ticket with his thumbprint to bind himself to the duties therein and receive his retainer payment.

As usual, Gunnar experienced a moment's hesitation before authenticating the contract. He never used to feel that way. Not about anything binding, anyway. Once upon a time he knew his word was his bond, and for the most part that's how he lived his life now. The war, though...it fragged a lot of ideals, a lot of principles. He wasn't the same man he used to be.

But who was?

He sighed and stamped down with his thumb.