Of all the things he disliked about dealing with SEM Corp, the shrill, electronically altered voice of the petite, hooded figure was at the top of the General’s list. The second was the hooded figure itself, whose mere presence frightened the other executives of the vast conglomerate.

The problem was SEM Corp paid too well, and like all PMCs, Black Star was always in search of its next contract. General Alexi Zhukov reminded himself, the mysterious figure was in all likelihood no different than many of the narcissistic, sociopathic politicians he’d dealt with while serving in the Confederation’s army. His partner was General Omar Smith, a former general officer in the Alliance and a fierce rival until the two had formed their partnership to found Black Star. Smith felt the same way.

Both disliked SEM Corp and many of its objectives. But greed and a lust to continue to command large scale military actions drove the pair. Each time SEM Corp reached out for Black Star’s services, the two generals inevitably agreed to another contract.

The hooded figure signaled the meeting was over and promptly left, leaving the other executives to conclude the meeting and end the signal.

“Smith, when this contract is finished, we are saying no the next time SEM Corp contacts us.”

“Alexi, you know it is futile for either of us to say that.” Smith smiled at his partner. “Both of us are too greedy, and  we like the challenge of command in the operations SEM Corp hires us for.”

The former Confederation general shook his head. “We are going to get in trouble one of these days, my friend. We both know if either of our old services came after us, it would end only one way. Black Star is the best private military force in existence, and we cannot stand up to the massed military might of either the Confederation or the Alliance.”

Both men sat in silence, each lost to their own thoughts regarding the issue of continued contracts with SEM Corp.

“Perhaps Alexi, we should have our intelligence people do a little digging while they are on the surface of Damascus II. It would be beneficial to know the truth behind why we were hired. It can’t hurt to know the nature of what is expected of our forces to fulfill this contract.”

“Agreed, Omar. This operation makes no sense. They’re farmers. Religious zealots. There is some mineral wealth but not enough to go to the expense of an operation like this. The fact SEM Corp is overpaying, even with the special circumstances of the contract, worries me. There is something we are not seeing.”

The pair discussed the general tone of the meeting. Each shared General what they thought about the various executives present. Both agreed the driving force behind the impending operation was the strange, eccentric hooded figure.

Smith reached in his pocket for his comm. After fiddling with the device for a moment, he turned on the map projector. He entered the coordinates for Damascus II, and a 3-D holographic projection of the system along with the space surrounding it was projected.

The pair stood and studied the projection in silence, lost in thought as they walked around and through the holographic projection.

“I see it, my friend. Do you, Alexi?”

“Da, I see it. It is the only thing that would make sense.”

“It’s pointless, still,” Smith said. “It would be easy to buy large parcels of land and build spaceports. This planet is going to be a major production center for food in that region of space. It’s a farmer’s paradise. No one would question the need to build shipping capacity.”

“Until military craft begin to land and are stored there. When barracks are built to house personnel. Then the questions will start.”

Smith shook his head. “It would be too late then. The locals would be dependent on the lift capacity. And if SEM Corp was smart, they would hide their activity. Use us in the first phases of whatever it is they have planned.”

“Agreed. But it’s the perfect jumping-off point for operations. Damascus II is independent. Any military they develop would be a Home Guard, purely for defense or disaster relief. Nobody would pay any attention to a build-up until it was too late.”

“Alexi, my friend, I believe you are right. This might very well be our last contract with SEM Corp.”

Zhukov sighed, wishing he and his friend would have the self-discipline to make that thought a reality. They were kidding themselves. Soldiers for hire whose morals were as crippled as theirs would fight for anyone so long as the credits were good and the pay high enough.