Sayeeda looked around the cornucopia of death and destruction wondering for what purpose Canek had gathered such an arsenal. There must have been a couple of million credits here in small arms alone.

“Recruits have been harder to come by than weapons,” Canek explained, perhaps sensing her interest.

“Alot of men died in that ambush and well… I don’t fully trust a lot of the local talent,” he went on. Sayeeda picked up a submachine gun, not unlike the one she normally carried and was surprised to discover it was actually a plasma weapon. It was usually difficult to find a weapon smaller than a rifle, she fitted a patrol sling to it and began to gather reloads that were packaged in long slender tubes.

“I’m going to guess that finding this treasure ship is only step one?” she asked. Canek spread his hands wide in a theatrical guesture.

“Step one hundred and something probably. The goal is to raise enough men and hire enough ships to get to Seylonika,” Canek said, half shouting over the roar of drive fans. Behind them the tank she had seen the night before was spinning up its engines. Large patches of tempered steel had been welded over gaps that had been blown in the skirts. A mechanic watched through a commo helmet, probably monitoring heat to make sure that the repairs could hold the pressure needed to float a thirty ton vehicle. 

“What’s on Seylonika,” Taya asked. The girl was toying with a compact breaching shotgun, the kind that vacuum commandos used when storming ships in deep space. Sayeeda didn’t think Taya or anyone else, could fire the weapon without being knocked on their ass, at least without a suit to adsorb the significant recoil. 

“There was a general call put out about three months ago,” Canek said. 

“Seylonika is the center of the Six World League, they are looking at hiring mercenaries in a big way, there is a new Prelate I guess who has some adventure in mind.”

“Ah,” Sayeeda said in understanding and then because it was obvious Taya didn’t, explained.

“There are a couple of different grades of mercenaries,” Sayeeda said.

“There are people like us, more or less freelance guns for hire, and then there are licensed mercs, like my old outfit.” Taya looked confused.

“Licensed by who?” she asked, apparently losing interest in the shotgun in favor of a sleek looking rocket gun of alien design.

“The Office of Special Actions,” Sayeeda said, “they started out as a Terran government beaura back in the days when Terra was a bigger deal that it is now. They used to be in charge of certifying that contractors that worked for the Terrans did what they say, verified TO&E, made sure contracts were handled properly.”

Sayeeda picked out a rad suit, a thin suit of flexible polymer with ionic inlays that would protect someone from the radiation they were likely to find  near the computer projected crash site. Canek’s people had a sophisticated array of sensors also, though most of them were likely to suffer some level of interference from the polar radiation. 

“But they don’t work for the Terrans now?” Taya asked.

“OSA is its own outfit now, they still do the same things verify mercenary contracts, make sure that the people doing the fighting do what they say and make sure that the people doing the paying pay up, but they work independently of Earth now. It’s too big a business for the Terrans to corner the market I suppose.”

The OSA was legendarily neutral, existing only to ensure that contracts were fulfilled as agreed. The arrangement suited everyone as it prevented mercenaries from deciding they would seize  power on worlds they were contracted and it prevented locals from deciding that not paying or killing the mercenaries was cheaper than honoring their deals. In the event that one or another party didn’t live up to its word, they could and would levy their own mercenaries to address the problem. Junebug hadn’t had much direct interaction with OSA agents, but she knew from reputation, and horror stories, that the OSA wasn’t fucking around. 

“Ok,” Taya said, obviously still confused.

“So what does this have to do with us, or with him anyway?” she asked gesturing to Canek with the barrel of the gun in a way that made Sayeeda queasy. 

“There are two ways you can get a merc company registered with the OSA,” Sayeeda explained.

“One, you can go through a lengthy legal process that costs millions of credits, or you can be part of a General Call. That is when a large enough world needs more mercenaries than are likely to be available, the OSA will certify formed units that show up on a provisional basis, which they confirm when the first contract is fulfilled.”
General Calls were rare events, largely because hiring groups didn’t usually want to give their opponents warning that they were gathering large numbers of soldiers and give them time to prepare their own defences. For an aspiring Mercenary Captain though, there was no greater opportunity. Hundreds of small timers would rush to the recruiting area to try to win a position, though even once they got there they would need to impress the hiring party enough to get the contract. 


“Right,” Canek chimed in, “And they will only sign of on a unit that is company sized or larger and properly equipped. I need enough money to raise and outfit at least a hundred pros, and get them to Seylonika in time, and the treasure ship is the only way I can see to make that happen. Once I have the cash, I’ll be able to gather enough recruits."