Pertumit Garundi 13

“Ellora Grace, do you read?” Fred’s voice cut through the suit com’s overlapping conversations.

“Right here, Fred, just follow the beacons.”  I’ve never been so happy to see my ship as Winter cast out a grappler to snag the metal fuselage and I followed the line all the way to the airlock.

I yanked my helmet off the sec the lock cycled through. “Don’t cast it off! These nasty little things don’t seem to like it for some reason.”

Winter had her hand on the eject/retract button, and she shot me a quizzical look before her expression morphed into one of horror. “Mehariet shuushoneki, is that what I think it is?” She pointed to the mine encased in its housing.  It was still inert although I’d placed it on the metal floor of the ship when I pulled off the ill-fitting envirosuit. 

“Yes, and I don’t know what this is protecting us or how it came to be, but I’ll take it for now.  We should take this thing to Marion; he might be able to determine if it is a lifeform.”

Winter looked physically ill for a nano.  She recovered swiftly though and shoved the case with the mine into a containment capsule and activated the field.  The blue glow enveloped the clear plexisteel container effectively placing the mine into stasis.  “Warn me next time you bring any Bildarthian chuksa on this ship.” Winter glared at me and stalked off leaving me to reel in the rest of the payload.

“Hello to you too, glad you are safe,” I muttered under my breath.

“I am happy you are safe.” Fred chimed in softly.

I sighed. “Thanks.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What in the seven hells is that?” Marion took one look at the containment canister and the grim expression on Winter’s face. 

L’Marchonase wore an equally grim expression. “Well, cousin, I’m hoping you can tell us.”

He walked all the way around the canister shaking his head.  “This is one of those mines, isn’t it?  You sent one of your insane chuksa Mentari out there to…”

I didn’t let him finish. “I took the Ni’chine ship after I’d discovered what they were carrying in their cargo hold.  I also discovered that one of their slaves wasn’t what it said it was.  My intent was to capture the imposter posing as a human, but the mines disintegrated his escape pod.  I saw an opportunity and used it.” I lifted my chin to stare at him. He blinked at me but wisely said nothing.

“This form does not like a piece of metal from the ship.  I think it wise to get a metallurgy and spectrometer team to look at the chunk to find out why.  In the meantime, I think whatever it is wrapped in holds it inert so be careful with the material.”

Marion slowly nodded his head.  “I’ll run an analysis on the wrappings first.  I’ll let you know what I find shortly.”

We left him conversing with his techs and headed for the battle bridge conference room. “My man in the Kerlian parliament should be ready to report.” L’Marchonase looked tense and as we entered the room I could see why.

The man with the shaggy dark hair and green prosthetic eye sat drumming his fingers on the redwood table.  He didn’t look like a diplomat dressed in a long duster coat made of Parchense duja leather.  His eyes were almond-shaped and only the deepening wrinkles around them betrayed his age.  He held his mouth strangely like his lips were overly extended at the corners.  My overall impression made me think about my elfin cousins back on Altamira.  When he stood, he was easily as tall as Winter. His glance slid over the both of us and he gave a slight nod to Winter.

Winter didn’t react.  She took her seat and folded her hands in her lap.  I sat down in one of the chairs behind her but close enough where I could hear the conversation. L’Marchonase gestured for him to begin.

He nodded. “The Kerlian Viseur and the primary adjudicator, called the Glazier, are rumored to have invested heavily into a project which needs the supply of Garundi amber to be profitable.  While the amber does produce a notable euphoric effect, their leaders have found a way to increase the effects of the amber, perhaps to use as a narcotic or for medical anesthesia.  If so, my contacts believe they intend to market the drug to their own people and export the remainder either legally for medical use or illegally as a party drug.  I heard a rumor, but have no proof of, a contact within the Hideku to move the meds off-world. 

Winter shifted in her seat but made no comment.

“I have also heard the labs creating these drugs are not on Kerlian but are in orbit.  Allegedly, they have two built and two still under construction.  The Viseur and Glazier siphoned off funds from off-world exports and import taxes to create the labs.  The discrepancy was noted by their consular staff but written off as an armament deal gone bad with the Sambrosians and a new race called the Trangee. I do not think the Kerlian parliament is aware of the depth of the embezzlement.”

“That sounds like a large-scale operation and one hard to hide.” L’Marchonase frowned.

“I thought so too, but they’ve acquired technology from somewhere that hides the labs from conventional detection. My guess is it must be the Trangee.  I’ve never heard of them before, and in my experience, the Sambrosians don’t have the kind of technology to hide orbital platforms.”

L’Marchonase nodded. “Were you able to find out any information about missing ships?  The transit authority seems to keep poor records.” He made a face indicting his disgust.

Diargento thumbed the controls on the table.  “My contacts weren’t specific, and this is a little out of their league.  But they did indicate there is a general wariness to travel beyond the buoy boundaries marking the main routes here, and here.” He marked the holo map with a stylus indicating a blank section of space.

Winter nodded and L’Marchonase’s frown deepened.  “Seems you were correct, Winter.  They have one way in and one way out just like we would.”

Diargento glanced at Winter. “This wouldn’t have something to do with those mines I’ve been hearing about?”

L’Marchonase sighed. “I expected Skelly to fill you in.  Did he tell you we captured one and are working on developing a countermeasure?”

Diargento grinned and he had a fair number of prosthetic teeth inlaid with auran. “He told me about the mines.  You’ve found a way to neutralize it already?”

L’Marchonase’s shrug was both poetic, practical, and indicated nothing beyond what Diargento apparently already knew.

Diargento left shortly thereafter, whistling to himself, and I thought, “There goes an extremely dangerous man.”

Winter apparently agreed with my unvoiced thought. “Enri, he’s trouble.  Valoise and the Ebroni woman are plotters, but they are essentially too greedy for their own good.  That one,” She indicated the departed Diargento with her hand, “Is the zagritzah at the bottom of the cistern.  He’s biding his time.”

L’Marchonase sighed heavily. “I know. The only reason I’m still Grand Captain of this fleet is that he and Skelly have not moved against me.  Those two are intelligent men and they also know they stand to make a lot of money because each of my crazy plans has worked…in the past.  I’m only as good as the next score, and we need to make one soon to keep the smaller ships in line.  He knows it too.” L’Marchonase’s com chimed, and he answered.  He made some non-committal noises and commed off.  “Marion’s found something.  He’ll be up.”

I used the intervening few chronos to visit the ‘fresher and smooth out my hair.  When I emerged, Winter and L’Marchonase were deep into a discussion of drone harassment tactics and how to use both ends of the bottleneck against the Garundis and Kerlians.  Marion rushed in, threw himself in a chair, and immediately dialed up a carafe of cafcocoa from the culinary dispenser.  He grabbed the thermocup, took a big swig, winced at the heat, and swallowed rapidly.  He waved the cup at me.

“You’re not going to believe this.  The reason why the mine is currently inert and why it doesn’t like the chunk of the wreckage is because both are organic matter.  I think I am looking at egg protein…well I know I am because the metal section of the ship is from the Ni’chine birthing well.”

I blinked. Ni’chine lay eggs? Birthing wells?

He must have read the expression on my face. “I know, it was a surprise to me too.  Our lady of cryogenic storage laid eggs recently because she has the egg brooding patch visible on her lower abdomen.”

“I didn’t see any eggs on the ship.” Not that I could have found them in the mess. 

“I don’t know a lot about the Ni’chine,” L’Marchonase spoke up, “But I do know those two weren’t a brooding pair.  I got the impression one was a hatchling of the other.”

Marion nodded. “I got the impression as well, which means the brood was brought on by something else.  They would have used the eggs for food, or randomly smashed the shells if the mood struck them.”

That would explain the smell. I wrinkled my nose. Winter remained impassive.

“I have a hypothesis based on the organic matter on the ship’s metal and the pouch around the mine.  They are both made of embryonic protein, although I couldn’t tell you what lifeform created the pouch and the protective barrier around the mine though.  I want to do a quantum dissection on the mine but rather than do it here on the Siren, we’d need to set me up on a disposable ship.”

L’Marchonase shook his head. “I would like to know the function of those mines as much as you do.  But you know how I feel about risking members of my immediate family.”

“Enri, you said the crews are restless.  Every rotation we wait, the certainty of mutiny becomes closer to reality.  How many people on this ship know I am your cousin? Entirely too many, and I knew it would come out at some point.  I am a liability to you, and you know it.”

Winter stood, and I stood with her. “You have much to discuss, Enri. We should leave you…”

“No.” L’Marchonase indicated the chair and Winter slowly sat back down leaving me to creep back into my seat. “My cousin and I can debate this later. While Marion is here, you,” He pointed at Winter, “Should narrate the fight with the Ni’chine for me.”

“Enri, I don’t…” Winter trailed off as the security footage from the fight was displayed on the holo system in the middle of the table.

The security Eyes caught Winter in one of the Siren’s lower cantinas drinking steadily and watching a newsie holo on her tabletop.  She clearly minded her own business and did not even appear to notice when the Ni’chine and their two mounts entered the bar.  The Eye moved forward a solis and it was clear the Ni’chine acted drunk and belligerent.  They insulted the bar staff, deliberately dropped drinks, and acted with hostility toward everyone.  In time, they were joined by two heavily hooded figures who appeared to be drinking less and intentionally chiding the Ni’chine for their lack of ability to bring in a live Hashtaaleen. The audio feed from the Ears in the bar fought through the ambient noise and provided a translation streamer at the bottom of the holo.

I didn’t tell Winter what I’d seen on the ship.  I didn’t even know how I’d broach the subject.  I wasn’t sure I could, either.  So, I sat and watched as the taller of the hooded individuals approached Winter’s table.  The two Ni’chine dismounted and chained their humans to the bag and chattel hooks under the table.  They circled around behind Winter while the tall, hooded humanoid spilled his drink all over her.  The second hooded one waited until Winter appeared distracted by the sudden bath in alcohol before plowing into her from behind.  The two Ni’chine drew their knives and dove on top of Winter.  The hooded ones attempted to hold her down while the Ni’chine presumably tried to saw off her head.  They only got ragged chunks of hair as Winter twisted out of the grip of the hooded ones and sprung the catch on her stave.  Winter slammed the business end of the weapon into the face of one of the Ni’chine and she howled as her eye was wrenched free of its socket and thrown across the room.  The hooded humanoids wisely backed off and disappeared into the crowd, leaving the Ni’chine to fend for themselves.  Stupidly, they continued to attack Winter and she dispatched them in a few chronos.  Winter pulled the drink bulb from the socket on the table and left the bodies on the floor of the cantina.  The Eye caught the hooded humanoids standing outside in the gathered crowd and watched as Winter staggered away. 

I saw it, and I am sure Winter saw it too although it was in the holo for only half a nanosec.  The cowl of the taller of the two hooded ones slipped exposing a flash of a colorful facial tattoo.

Valoise!

I’m sure Winter must have thought so too. She turned to me, tilted her head, and shrugged.  “I wish I could tell you what happened but, I don’t remember any of this, Enri.” She looked back at him and gave him a closed-lipped smile. 

I knew the expression on her face though even if L’Marchonase didn’t.  We were going to pay the captain of Siren fleet ship Sausenty-Une a visit soon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Pertumit Garundi 7

I’d like to say jump was a pleasant experience, but it really wasn’t. I always come out of the jump feeling like something died in my mouth and I’d run the parsecs between Altamira and Ualune. I kept restoration packs in the side compartment of my chair, but even the stims couldn’t shake all the fatigue. Winter, though, seemed not to feel the effects of the jump. She is basically humanoid, so you’d think she would feel some of the effects, but if she did, it was not obvious to me.

I must clarify and say that my race goes back thousands of years before the S arm of the galaxy was settled by the tribes of Ancient Terra. We hid among the human explorers, those brave souls who lived on generation ships. As an educational assignment given to me by my father, I once had to calculate the basic position of where our old homeworld should have been, and how many light years it would take just to make it to the nearest star. Our people have long life spans, but humans? Humans exist in the blink of an eye to us. The Hashtaal was also a race with exceptionally long-life spans. Truthfully, I am not sure of Winter’s age. She appears to be a humanoid woman in her late third maybe the fourth decade, so about twenty standard cerens older than me. I’ve learned you can tell a being’s age by their eyes. Winter’s eyes are old, maybe older than my father, and he’s easily three hundred cerens.

We reached K’Pix and found a navigational buoy broadcasting on all channels. Winter cranked around the ancient antennae we have on the Fred and asked him to discern signals.

I frowned. “What are we looking for exactly? It seems like this is a dead end.”

Winter shook her head. “L’Marchonese will bury a signal within a signal. We just have to find which one of these…ah…Here we are.”Where there was static only a moment before, a holo message formed on our screens. The stereo logo was a holographic laughing humanoid skull. A few seconds later a set of coordinates flashed onto the screen and Winter rapidly input the combinations into the navigational computers.

“We’re jumping again?” I don’t know why I bothered asking. Fred had already spun our vanes to full and the engines were registering full charge. Winter only glanced at me and shrugged before hitting the acceleration control.

We exited just beyond the heliopause of a system that had two gas giants and four planets. One of the gas giants had thirteen moons. All of them looked scorched as if a massive fire had rolled over them at some point. As we angled our way in, another ship appeared off our port bow.

Fred interrupted my musings. “I have multiple signals coming from a ship in orbit around the second moon of the primary giant.”

“Take us in, Fred.” Winter stood. “I suggest you get cleaned up. First impressions matter among this bunch. Keep your weapons hidden. No sidearm.”

Frankly, I am not sure how she would know such a thing, but I went with her wisdom on the matter. I decided to pull my hair up, and rather than elaborately braid it, keep it at a bun at the base of my neck. I can hide all kinds of sharpened hair ornaments and still conceal the handle of my short sword into the collar of my dress white ship suit.

I don’t know who created our suits. I know they were designed for functionality first and flash second. Our suits have multiple pockets, some concealed so if you wanted to carry a weapon or explosive, you could. The fabric is blindingly white with brilliant azure piping at the seams and mandarin collar. I wear two turquoise lines beneath Fred’s logo above my left breast which indicates I am the comm officer. I’m also the galley slave and tableware cleaner but there’s no rank for that. Winter wears three azure bars and as of late, a gold star is pinned to her collar. In spacer parlance, it means she’s the acting captain. I worry someone will catch on to the “acting” part and ask hard questions about Darryl.

I hope Winter and I can keep our stories straight if someone should ask.

I put my concern into the back of my thoughts as we crossed over to the main ship. L’Marchonase’s flagship was a huge monstrosity bristling with guns, vanes, and a ship engine Fred would lust after. From my casual inspection as we were brought aboard, his ship had been a massive luxury yacht, probably Realmese, maybe Arcadian in the registry. It had obviously been converted to a warship, with the ancillary flotilla of ships acting as freight haulers. I wondered if he’d been taking cues from the ship familias and never bothered to make planetfall anywhere.

Once, in a moment of sheer boredom, during one of those infernal etiquette lessons my father insisted upon, I looked up the Ship Familias and their origins. In my ten cerens as a spacer, I’ve only seen one SF ship, and it was The Sovereign of Palencia. The Sovereign was a massive ship, I mean truly massive. I can’t imagine how much Kieren energy it must take to power it. Like many deep space stellarships, it was ovoid, and the hull was tinted mandarin orange, to stand out against the blackness of space. They also had a flotilla of smaller ships, some of which could make planetfall. The Sovereign is owned by the Valencia de Talamantes family. I know they deal mainly with manufacturing equipment and farming implements. I hear they dabble in gun-running, but I do not know that to be true. I do know SF’s have a closed culture, and outsiders are not welcome. My understanding though is each SF has a different set of values and the only commonality is they don’t take in foreigners.

There are other SF’s of course, the largest ship allegedly belongs to the Paloma group. The Ramiriz Lira Lleida de Paloma familia owns The Paloma Blanca. I’ve never seen it, but I have heard tales of it.

I was brought out of my musing by the red-suited guard at the end of the airlock. Winter calmly presented a fingercard and the lead security woman passed it through their reader. It chirped, and she nodded at us to proceed.

I want to say the interior of the ship was opulent, but I grew up at court, so everything is a step down for me. I realize that’s a bias of mine.

We were led to a lounge area with a room spanning loa wood bar tended by three humanoid bartenders and one robotend. Uniformed staff, apparently not affiliated with the crew by virtue of different shipsuit colors, circulated with drinks and canapes.

“He’s not hurting for money it seems.” Winter passed on a glass of bubbling wine offered to her by one of the turquoise-clad attendants, but I snagged a stem from a passing server.

“I guess. If that loa wood is real and the carpet is authentic auransilk, then yeah, doing well, I suppose.”Winter and I continued to look around, both of us assessing threats and assets.

Winter gestured with a finger and then scratched at her head, dislodging a curl of platinum hair. I glanced up. There in the ceiling was a monitor, that probably recorded everything.I sighed. “Ya know, Fred would probably love to find out the name of his decorator. Will you ask?”

Winter nodded. “Yes, because all these shades of aqua and turquoise, especially with that long curving seating arrangement and those clever sunburst cushions really pull the room together, don’t you think?”

“And the amaranthist colored treatments over the windows are just divine.” I sipped my drink and pretended to be impressed.

Winter smirked. “I think we should check out the rest of the room. No telling what treasures we’ll find.”She wound her way through the lounge, and we reclined against the bar for a few minutes before a scarlet suited attendant with a silver chevron on her arm stopped in front of us. She saluted briefly and handed a fingercard to Winter.

“Captain Oran, Captain L’Marchonase would love the pleasure of your company for a small conference in five standard chronos.”

I raised my eyebrows. Winter nodded at the crew member. “Would you be so kind as to point out the ladies ‘fresher facility? I should have just enough time for a visit.”

“Of course.” The crewmate bowed, nodded to me, and gestured for Winter to accompany her.I sipped my drink for a chrono or two before casually heading in the direction of the fresher. As in the casino, I glamoured myself, waited until the door was opened, and followed Winter’s distinctive hair all the way over to a roped-off area.

I recognized L’Marchonase immediately from his holos and bounty wrappers. He stood when Winter entered and crossed from behind the table to greet her. I concealed myself behind one of the gaudy purple drapes and extended my hearing. Eavesdropping is not a habit of mine. Neither is using my ability to track sound, as too much can hurt. I do have sensitive hearing, so I like the quiet of our ship, and the volume controls on Fred.

I consider this ability to be not terribly useful and a hindrance most of the time. But, when among thieves, cutthroats, and liars, it might be a good idea to keep in concert with one another and where an electronic listening device could pose a problem. I presume Winter figured out I’ve sat in on conversations before. If she knows, she must not have a problem with it, and I am certain she would tell me if she did. She can be blunt about her dislikes.

I did not hear the first part of the conversation and as it was probably pleasantries anyway, I would not have missed much. What did I hear made me raise my eyebrows and study L’Marchonase. Apparently, Winter knows him from somewhere other than Narellian.He gestured for her to sit on one of the azure wingbacked chairs, which she did and calmly faced him.

“Are you finally ready to give up on that volante carisarka, and come home? Really, Winter, the best you could do is come back to the family that cares for you.”

Winter laughed, which is more of a chuffing sound than anything. “The volante carisarka is dead. I own the Fred outright now.”

L’Marchonase lifted a stim cartridge to his lips and inhaled. He blew out fragrant smoke and snorted. “She owed me money. What’s to say that ship isn’t mine now?”

“Because you don’t want to alienate me. I came here interested in your enterprise. You already know what my skill sets are and how I can ensure the success of your campaign. You already know I don’t hunt down those I nominally call friends.”

“Fairelawn. Was that your handiwork?” He sat back in his chair and studied her.

She shook her head. “Someone else staged a robbery and gimped the station.”

“Elaborate for an assassination, don’t you think? Or did your Hidenese friends help there too?” He narrowed his eyes.

Winter tilted her head.“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

L’Marchonase stroked his salt and pepper chin. “I know the Hiden wasn’t happy with his business dealings and felt they’d been cheated in a few of his transactions. I also know the bounty on him, and his paranoid security force placed him in the impossible hit category. You’re the only professional I know who would take a suicidal contract like that.”

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about. My crewmate and I did pull a scheme to hex the tournament, but that’s all. We made enough for food and fuel, but not a year at Kell Station living in one of the bacchanal suites.”

“You’d rather let me believe your presence there was only a coincidence?” He glowered at her.

She sighed, “Enri, believe me…”

He picked his glass up, drank, and slammed it down on the tabletop. “Don’t. Don’t lie to me. For the sake of my great, great, great grandfather, don’t lie. He let you keep your secrets even though it has been readily apparent over the years he knew you didn’t tell him everything.”

Winter stood up and folded her arms across her chest. “Good luck on your campaign, then. I wish you well. The Fred will depart within the hour.” Her tone was glacial. She turned to leave.

It was L’Marchonase’s turn to sigh. “Winter, forgive me. Every time the Hiden moves against one of its own, it creates a power vacuum. People I counted on with this venture are now squabbling over territories and supply lines.”

“I have no doubt you can spin it to your advantage.” Winter regarded him coolly.

“Probably. Eventually. And when the ultra-paranoid chucksan calm down. But now…” He gestured toward the bar.

“They drink your best vintages and complain.” Winter retook her seat

.“Exactly. I was hoping Narellian, would pass the word to you, as I can use your help.”

I had to give him style points for re-directing the conversation. The accusations struck me as ridiculous. Honestly, did he think she could be in multiple places at once? And who was this person he said was killed? A thought flitted through my head but wouldn’t stay still long enough. I gave myself a mental shake and continued listening, although the rest of the conversation was not nearly as interesting. L’Marchonase spoke in a way that gave me the impression he considered himself family to Winter, but not close enough to be directly related if that makes sense? L’Marchonase and his crew seemed to be from the Yeltsin consortium, most likely Arcadia. He had a pronounced Yeltsenese accent although he was tall for a heavy-worlder. His explosive epithet nickname for our departed captain would indicate…well, our captain had a fair number of enemies. Perhaps he considered himself family to Winter through her? I knew some of the pirate clans from the Yeltsin sector of space considered themselves all members of the same extended family so that would make sense if Darryl and Winter worked with them before I joined the crew.

They spoke for a few more chronos, although Winter didn’t comment much, and he sounded less like he was trying to persuade her to go along and more like he was placating her, which struck me as odd. When she remarked on his color scheme for the lounge, I knew that was my cue to disentangle myself from the drapes and head back to the main salon.

I was chatting with the ship’s surgeon when she found me. He’d attached himself to me shortly after I emerged from the ‘fresher. I found out a few things I didn’t know, such as the ship was called The Silver Siren and was the eighth ship in the L’Marchonase syndicate to hold the name. When Winter turned up, I’d let him talk me into a tour of the ship’s bridge, medical facilities, and the gallery. He bowed to Winter, and acted like he wanted to say more, but bowed again and left.

Winter seemed bemused. “Learn anything?”

I shrugged. “ A history lesson and your reputation precedes you.”

Her expression became unreadable. “Ah. That. Well then.” She shook her head. “L’Marchonese is holding a general meeting of all captains, firsts, and quartermasters in the main conference in roughly thirty chronos. Let’s find the buffet table first. I have a feeling this will be a long meeting.”

My stomach liked that idea.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Pertumit Garundi 6

Winter peeled out of the envirosuit and disappeared briefly into her quarters.  She emerged a minute later carrying her ship suit and boots.  She yanked the suit on as she walked, and by the time she got to the flight deck she was only one boot away from being dressed.  She took a wipe from her suit pocket and began roughly removing the makeup from her face.

“So, this is your handiwork?”  I gestured at the slowly irising space dock doors.

“No.  They’ve been gimped.  Their internal systems are shorting out.”  She took her seat at her navigation station and strapped herself in.

“You don’t think it went as far as to affect their rotation or Oberonae save us, the orbit?”

Winter shook her head.  “I don’t know.  I expect they’ll have a general evacuation order soon.  It should override whatever it is they are doing about the robbery.”

“Robbery?” I frowned.

“Yeah, the casino was robbed.  I presume it is the reason for the hold order.  They are trying to prevent the thieves from getting away.”

She glanced down at her panel.  “When we get clear of here, I’ve heard of a job, but we need to discuss it, and now is not the time.”

I nodded.

“Fred engines to forty percent, and maneuver us toward the exit.” Winter brought up the schematics of the station on her comm panel.  “They’ve got station cannons and standard electropulse batteries along the central ring.  Our deflectors can probably handle it, but the vanes are delicate and don’t like pulse weapons.  So, we are going to have to jump the second we exit.  Think you can handle the torque?”

“Don’t know until I try,” Fred replied. He fired the thrusters and we passed the Corvair.  “I’m extending vanes and started the spin.  We should be ready for a singularity jump as soon as we clear the doors.

I felt more than heard the deep rumble of the jump engines as the vibration carried up through the floor and directly into my teeth.

“KNJ9385 Fred, what in the seven hells are you doing?” The human station master sounded stressed.

“Leaving.” Winter’s reply left the station master sputtering.

“You’ve no legal right to hold up freight traffic.  We’re all on jump timelines that require us to deliver on time or pay station penalties.” I chimed in.

“But the Accords of Navarran clearly state…”

“And don’t apply to freight traffic, as our jump schedule doesn’t allow for it.  If you consulted your legal department before making the order, then you’d understand that.  The way I see it, you’re going to let us go, else I will be filing a disruption of service claim against Fairelawn, and all the docking penalties, berthing fees, and any additional legal problems we incur because of this will be billed to you.  You sure you want to go through with this? Our next stop is Altamira and you know how they are on punctuality.” Winter activated the video feedback to the station and stared at the station master.

“Captain Oran, you have our sincerest apologies, but…”

“Fred, bring all mains online, and brace for departure,” Winter spoke calmly and held eye contact with the station master.

“You’d blow a hole in us, just to get some trinkets to Altamira?” The station master sounded incredulous.

“I just got my ship ledgers back in the black.  I don’t intend to incur more debt, while we sit here and wait for you to figure out your problems.” Winter folded her arms across her chest.  A station aide came up to the master and whispered something in his ear.  He visibly paled.

Winter cut the audio feed and turned her back to the lenses.  “My bet is they just figured out they have a more serious problem.”

I shrugged.  “I’ve not heard of a station gimped in a long time.  I thought they’d managed to stop the last cartel of gimpers.”

Winter shook her head. “Someone’s found a way around their security protocols.  Bound to happen sooner or later.” 

She turned around and spoke to Fred.  “How’s their iris, can we fit through?”

“They are at sixty percent dilation.  We should make it to the end of the tube by the time they hit seventy-five.  We will fit through, but barely.”

“Try not to scrape anything on the way out” Winter sat down at the navicomp position and began programming the ship for jump.

I watched the coordinates scroll across my screens.  I ducked down so the lens wouldn’t pick up my lips moving.  “That’s not Altamira.”

“No, it’s not.” Came the serene reply. “Fred, bring vane spin to full.”

The station master sent a flag that played across both our screens.  “You can’t jump inside a station its…”

Winter opened the audio and cut him off mid-harangue. “I’ve no desire to blow the arm of the station.  But we are leaving, and that is final.”

I looked at the aft screens. “The Corvair and the other freighters are in line behind us.”

“The captain of the Corvair is insane.  They will be fired on.  Diplomatic privilege doesn’t extend that far.” Winter shook her head.

“Sounds more like desperation to me,” I muttered.

“Right now, station security is trying to figure out how they were gimped.  That means that Corvair is a prime suspect.”

I pulled the additional jump straps across my chest and plugged them in.  I took a deep breath, just to make sure I still could.  The straps adjusted which was a relief.  I wiggled around trying to get comfortable before my seat automatically reclined. 

“You think so?”

Winter ticked her ideas off on her fingers.  “First, the last gimp cartel was from Navarran.  They used Navarrani ships to smuggle their gimper krewes on and off stations.  Second, some of the ships claimed ambassadorship, which prevented them from standard search.  Third, that Corvair has some non-standard modifications.  Look at its engines.”

My screens tilted to follow the motion of my seat.  I glanced at the aft cameras.  “I don’t see anything.”

“Magnify and look at their vanes, you’ll see accelerant chambers feeding into the engines.”

“Huh. I thought they only used those on racing ships” I ran my fingers over my magnification controls.

“That Corvair is designed for racing.  I expect it will blow past us before we can create our singularity.  It will have to outrun their guns, and any fighters they send after it.”

“So, you think a new krewe is on that ship?”

Winter tilted her chair back and adjusted her screens.  She directed her chair to swing around parallel to mine so she could look over at me. 

“No.  I think the krewe is on one of those freighters still in dock.  They’ll wait while all the drama plays out and quietly leave with the general evac order. I think the Corvair is probably somebody with no desire to get involved in any of this. The Navarrani ident is likely a forgery.”

“Gods above and below what a mess.”

Winter just nodded and frowned at her screen. “Almost there.  Gently, Fred.”

I switched my screens from aft to the forward projection.  In front of us, the station’s docking tube was slowly opening out into space.  Orange flashers indicated it was not fully open.

“Seventy-two percent irised should have greenway any moment,” Fred reported.

Winter connected her halo to the mainframe and grimaced.  I tried piloting the Fred one time and the flow of data was difficult to parse. I had a tremendous headache for days afterward.  I had no idea how Winter managed it except there is a distinct difference in our biology.

The flashers went to yellow, indicating the doors were nearly wide enough to permit small craft to pass.  The Fred isn’t exactly little.  Fred is a heavily modified Hermeion class light freighter with an aerodynamic design that allows us to make planetfall, unlike most freighters.  The Hermeion class was retired from service more than 150 standard cerens ago.  Before that, they’d been quirky at best.  Most of their AI’s achieved sentience, dumped their crews, and left for parts unknown.  Fred, while sentient, was certainly affable.  I got the impression Winter may have altered some of his base programming before he became self-aware.  In the ten cerens I’ve been on the ship, we’ve rebuilt the engines twice, replaced the sublight alternators, changed the vanes to a premium brand, and countless other small modifications.  Winter has been on the ship twice as long as I have, and I got the impression she and our “late” captain made many more modifications that I’m not aware of.

“Seventy-four” Fred intoned.  The countdown to jump flashed across my screen.  “I’m reading lots of small craft converging on the exterior,” I said.

“Oh, so they are going to fight us.  Shields up, Fred.” 

“Shall I bring weapons online?

“Yeah, plot a firing solution for a line of sight only.  I really don’t want to have to shoot someone down.” Winter tapped a control and our attitude shifted slightly. 

I pulled the targeting visor down over my head and took up the stick in front of me.  Fred fed me targeting solutions for multiple inbound craft. 

“Seventy-five, greenway, captain.”

“Project and fire if anything gets in the way.”

We veered up sharply as we exited the tube, our vanes punching a hole into subspace in front of us. We dove through the hole as fighters converged on us.  Winter snapped the cutoff and the hole promptly collapsed behind us.  My teeth rattled for a few minutes as Fred whipped us through the fabric of space. We came out a chrono or so later just beyond the Fairelawn system heliopause.

I blinked and brushed sweat off my temple.  “Well, that was interesting.  What are we doing out here?”

Winter tiled her chair and screens down and unstrapped herself.  “We’re waiting.  Give it an hour and we can see if Fairelawn blew up or not.”

I nodded.  The strange part of subspace time dilation means we can watch the battle we were briefly in, but not in real-time.  Whatever happened back there at Fairelawn would have to catch up to us. 

“Fred, find the DS buoy and attach us to a sixty-degree tether.” Winter yawned.  “I need a shower.” She walked off toward her quarters. “Call me if it gets exciting.”

I waved my hand at her and settled down with a book tab to wait.

An hour and a half later, the main antennae started filling our screens from other DS buoys and some closer in that got a good look at the battle.  I watched as Fred burst from the docking tube and disappeared. The Corvair dove sharply and ran for the station’s central axis, broadcasting a distress call all the way.  The freighters lumbered out of the docks and were fired on.  The Halcyon freighter took some damage and blew up a couple of their fighters.  They generated a singularity too close to the right arm of the station and took part of it with them when they jumped.  The Yeltsin ore hauler moved away from the station, but by then it was obvious that the station’s rotation had stopped.  Multiple blisters broke away from the ship as life pods were jettisoned from the failing station.  The ore hauler moved back and started picking up pods.  A large superliner and ancillary ships appeared in real space and the Corvair was fired upon and hit.  It limped to the superliner and was tractored aboard.  The superliner, instead of offering aid, promptly generated a singularity and vanished into the black.

“Well, that was nice of them,” Winter commented.  She was still toweling her platinum hair dry. 

“What happened to the pink?” I gestured toward her hair.

“Eh, was temporary.  Did you get a good look at that superliner?”  She pointed a finger at the screen.

“The one that picked up the Corvair? I couldn’t see the registry numbers.”

“Fred, go back and magnify.”

Fred dialed back to the appearance of the liner.  “Hmm. No registry that I can see either.  Just that odd symbol on the hull. Do you see it?”

I squinted at it.  “I thought that ship was registered to Navarran.  Not sure what picked them up though.  I don’t recognize it.

“Hmm.”

We watched in silence as the station evacuated. At the one-hour mark, other ships began appearing, in response to Fairelawn’s distress call which was all over the comm channels.  We watched for another hour as the station was pulled to orbital safety by multiple tractor beams from the larger ships. 

“Looks like the gimp wasn’t entirely successful.  They got their reactors back online.” Winter commented.

I sighed.  “Surely we aren’t sitting out here in the great cold and dark just to watch the show.”

Winter tilted her head, and smiled with just her lips, never showing teeth.  “We are waiting for a package.  It should be almost here. Fred, magnetize the hull.”

I raised my eyebrows but said nothing. Winter returned to her chair and brought up a system schematic I’d never seen before.  The fact that I’d never seen it before wasn’t new.  There are hundreds, if not thousands of systems in our arm of the galaxy, not counting Furian’s Maze.  I know most of the stars of the official trade routes, and common transit points, plus a few that are off the new navigational charts, but this one was a trinary system just outside of a gas cloud.

“Why are we looking at…” I had to glance down at the nav panel on my left. “MX 997265 K14?”

Winter looked up and smiled that same closed-lip smile.  When I think about it, she always does that, smiles without teeth, I mean. 

“This is K’Pix.” She pointed to the holo on the mesa top.  “It is one of the nearer stars of a constellation known as M’anitanth, among my people. It translates to the Nomad in standard. There’s a rendezvous of all ships interested in a campaign led by L’Marchonese.  Narellian said he heard it was going to be a big gathering for an enterprise that has the potential to be very lucrative.”

“Really? He did? Usually, Narellian keeps his bigger scores to himself.”  I snorted.  I should point out that Narellian was a businessman slash bounty hunter slash sometimes gun runner we dealt with on occasion.  He is also from Hashtaal, which is why Winter talks to him.  He’s one of the other races from the planet. He’s humanoid, but with amphibian characteristics. 

Winter has not said a lot about her home planet, but from offhand remarks, I gather that there was a hierarchy and strict caste system on Hashtaal.  Narellian would have been from one of the upper classes.  Amphibianoids like Narellian apparently were the most common of the races inhabiting the planet. 

In case you aren’t familiar with the legends about Hashtaal, let me tell you what I know.  I know that it was an ice planet with deep water oceans teeming with life.  I know the Amphibianoid and Orcanoid races inhabited huge underwater cities.  They were the ones that developed spaceflight.  Winter’s people were considered the bottom caste.  They were tribal surface dwellers who lived on the polar landmasses.  They interacted with their aquatic counterparts, but I get the impression there was a lot of isolationism. 

I know that Narellian can be snobbish, and secretive, so his telling Winter about L’Marchonese and his sallie was a bit unusual.

“So, why did Narellian tell you?  Is he hoping we’ll try to find out more and pass it along to him?”

Winter shrugged.  “Probably.  He’s too chuksa to go himself because he owes L’Marchonese money.  But, he wants to know what’s going on because it sounds like a big venture.  If it pans out, he wants us to pay him a finder’s fee.”

I laughed. “Not in seven hells would I pay that sojoni chuksa a red centavo.”

Winter nodded.  “Me either.  I suspect it’s dangerous though and probably illegal.  We can investigate it further if you want, or we can head for Ualune and see if we can find a decent freight job.”

“What are the odds it’s genuine?” I idly used the antennae to scan the nearer space around us.  The DS buoy continued to transmit Fairelawn coordinates and shipping lane information.  I couldn’t hear any ship traffic. 

Winter pursed her lips and appeared to mull the question over before responding. “L’Marchonese has a reputation of bringing in big hauls.  He doesn’t go for anything with unnecessary risk which is why this could be worth it.  We could go to the rendezvous and hear him out.  Chances are he’s just trying to drum up support for a venture.”

I nodded.  “That’s fair enough.”

“Okay, we’ll go listen to what he has to say.”  Winter no more got the words out of her mouth when a loud thunk caused the ship to vibrate. 

“What in seven hells…” I brought up the outside monitors and started examining our hull. 

“That’s probably our package.” Winter was up and moving down the starboard passage before I could say anything. 

“Fred, did that dent the hull?”

“According to my calculations, the object was not moving with enough speed to critically impact the hull.”  Fred sounded calm.

I scanned the hull for microfractures anyway.  Winter manhandled the object, which resembled an ovoid life pod, only smaller, into our holding section using the freight crane.  She shut the outside bay doors and I felt the pressure increase in my ears.

She came back to the bridge a few minutes later and reseated herself in the navigation chair.

“So, K’Pix?”

Winter nodded and I braced for jump.

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