Origins: The Complete Series

by J. N. Chaney

  I sure as hell didn’t belong here, but I wanted my damn steak.

  As I waited, I sipped on the highball glass I’d been given when I sat down. Amber liquid rolled around inside of it, and the spicy sting of aged bourbon cleared my sinuses. I’d splurged on this drink, so I was nursing it to make it last.

  A man had to give himself a few nice things in life.

  I was drinking too slowly to get a buzz from it, so I’d probably switch to the cheap stuff the moment I finished this glass. Given that I was on a bit of a vacation, I was far too sober, and I aimed to fix that as soon as possible.

  My mouth watered as a nearby businessman with gray hair and his wife—easily half his age—received their tender filets. She pulled her long blonde hair over one shoulder while she gently poked her steak with a fork, the red juices bubbling to the top. The woman let out a little moan during the first bite and I had to work at keeping my eyes averted.

  It was like she was teasing me.

  I groaned and sat back in my seat, trying to stem my frustration.

  Finally—blissfully—a waiter rounded the corner from the kitchen with a tray in his hand, and his eyes locked on me. He didn’t smile, but I didn’t care. As he set the steak before me with a flourish, I grabbed my utensils from the perfectly clean napkin they’d set aside for me earlier.

  If he didn’t let go of the plate immediately, I’d stab his hand with a fork. I needed food.

  He walked away without a word, and thankfully I didn’t have to fork anyone to get my meal. As I cut into the steak and took my first bite, the world around me disappeared. I didn’t care where I was or how I’d gotten there. I hadn’t had meat this fine in years.

  Years.

  As the hot and tender steak all but melted on my tongue, I lost track of time. Each bite was better than the last, and somehow, it was all gone too quickly. I wiped the final piece of meat around in the pooled juices to soak up every bit of it, and with a resigned sigh, I ate that too.

  As the world around me came back into focus, a sharp pain in my stomach reminded me that I’d eaten enough to embarrass a glutton. I didn’t care, and even though my stomach hurt like hell, I was tempted to order another one just because I could.

  But the credits would run out if I was stupid about my spending. Instead of indulging my bottomless appetite, I leaned back and let that be that, even as I stared longingly at the empty plate.

  “Would you care for anything else, sir?” a waiter with a broad smile asked the businessman nearby.

  “Yes, the dessert menu,” the man said with a gesture to his young wife. “Whatever she wants.”

  “You spoil me!” she said with a happy little squeal.

  “Right away, sir,” said the waiter with a small bow. As he turned on his heel, the waiter noticed me watching him, and his smile instantly fell as he walked toward me. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

  “The bill,” I said as I ran my finger through the steak juice for one last taste.

  He groaned so softly that I almost missed it, and the disgusted little noise was instantly lost in the music and soft conversation around us. “Of course, sir.”

  I frowned as he walked away, irritated by his attitude. I just wanted a steak, and I could pay like anyone else here. If anything, it was a compliment that I couldn’t get often enough.

  It was all the more proof that I didn’t belong among these types. I was a man of bar fights and not welcome in high society. Or even mediocre society, if I was being honest.

  In my line of work, I walked the line between lawlessness and order, and I was just fine with my place in the stars.

  “How goes the restocking process, Siggy?” I asked into the comm in my ear as I walked along the promenade deck.

  “Very well, sir,” said the AI. “Provisions are ordered and on their way.”

  “You remembered my whiskey, right?”

  “Absolutely. It was the first thing on your list.”

  “Good,” I said. “When they arrive, don’t let anyone onto my ship without me. Make them wait outside until I get there.”

  “Of course. Shall I notify you when they arrive?”

  “That’s fine,” I answered as I strolled through the crowd. “I just need to make one last stop before I head back.”

  “What stop is that, sir?”

  “I’m getting a new coffee maker,” I announced with a smug little grin. “I’m thinking I might boot the current one out into a slip tunnel once we leave Taurus Station, just to watch it disintegrate.”

  With shops on either side of the walkway and people between me and where I wanted to go, I was slow moving through the throng. Loud chatter filled the air as tourists and locals alike pushed their way toward wherever they were going.

  I passed shops filled with everything from clothes to toys to guns, but I had a mission.

  Coffee.

  Beautiful, breathtaking coffee.

  There were more than a hundred shops on this level, any of which might sell ground beans and a machine to stick them in. I hadn’t bothered to wait in line at one of the information kiosks, and now I was wondering if that had been a bad idea. As I scanned the shop fronts for any sign that one of these places might sell magical caffeinated beans, I kept hitting dead end after dead end. I was getting desperate enough that if I found one, I might just take it.

  Except station security milled around, subtle but present. They didn’t look too obtrusive, but they watched the crowds with practiced eyes, waiting for someone to make a move. Word had it that Taurus used to be policed by a Sheriff’s office, but it was now defunct. The current outfit looked and acted more like a private security firm, but they more or less kept order.

  After almost thirty minutes of searching, I finally saw a decal of a coffee cup painted on a shop window. Sure enough, a shiny new coffee maker sat in the display, the shop lights glistening off the polished metal surface. There was a secured tray where the pot was kept, probably to keep it from crashing to the floor in case of turbulence. The machine looked like it would fit on the ship. Everything about it was perfect.

  I braced myself to read the price tag. The thing with Taurus Station was I could either find insane deals or overpriced garbage. It was usually one of the two extremes, and I encountered the latter more often than not.

  It was probably going to be expensive. As I checked the tag, however, I was pleasantly surprised. In fact, I couldn’t remember seeing a coffee maker—especially a quality one—for such a good price.

  This one certainly hadn’t been made from engine parts, and it would be mine.

  “Pardon me,” a man in a dark gray business suit said when I tried to get past. I ignored him and continued working my way through the crowd.

  “Excuse me,” said a woman whose hat was so large I had to duck to get by her.

  I bit my tongue to keep from sharing my opinion about her stupid hat and slipped past a man and woman who were talking in hushed tones as I stepped into the store. A shopkeeper wearing a shirt with the store’s logo on it stood by the coffee maker in the window, and I darted toward him as he snatched the price tag off of it.

  “Hey, I was going to buy that,” I said.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” he said as he turned around. “Someone has already purchased this one.”

  “What?” I groaned in annoyance. “Do you have any more?”

  “No, sir,” said the shopkeeper. “We’ve been having quite the shortage lately, but we should be able to get more in if you give us another few weeks. In the meantime, we have a wide assortment of coffee for you to choose from, if you’d like to browse the shop.”

  I growled and rubbed my temples. “What about the other stores on station?”

  “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” said the man, leaning in as he lowered his voice. “We all use the same vendors, and they’re out too. If you come back to me in a month, I’ll give you a good deal to make up for this, okay? I can’t go as low as this one, since it’s the displ
ay model, but I’ll get you a great price.”

  I groaned. I had no idea where I’d be in a month, and there was no guarantee he’d hold one for me when he did manage to get some in stock. “You have got to be kidding.”

  He shrugged. “Your call. For now, I need to wrap this up for a customer. Excuse me.”

  As he stepped past and walked toward a counter in the back of the shop, I followed him. “Wait, tell me who you’re selling this one to.”

  “He’s selling it to me,” said a familiar voice.

  A familiar woman’s voice.

  I frowned as I paused mid-stride and shook my head, already knowing where this would go. I looked to my left as a woman with dark hair and piercing blue eyes walked around a small crowd of people, set her hands on her hips, and smirked.

  Calista.

  It was like a nightmare come true. The one thing I really wanted in all the known universe—except maybe a few million creds—and she was buying it out from under me.

  “That coffeemaker’s mine,” I said as I pointed to the man wrapping it up for her.

  She laughed.

  She actually laughed.

  “Since I paid for it, it’s mine,” said Calista. “You’re aware of how a shop works, right? Or is civilization still pretty new to you?”

  I bit my tongue, ignoring the jibe for the moment so that I could focus. “Why do you even want it?” I asked, grasping at straws. “It’s a display model. It’s probably defective—”

  “I don’t drink coffee,” she said with a lazy shrug.

  I paused, my mouth hanging open as I processed what she’d just said. “Then why the hell are you buying a coffee maker, woman?”

  “Because you wanted it.” She nodded toward the window as she crossed her arms. “I saw you looking at it through the window like some kid eyeing a new toy blaster, and I wanted you to know what it’s like to have someone take the thing you want from you.”

  For a moment, I couldn’t speak. She had played this damn well. Like a pro.

  I couldn’t deny that, as angry as I was, I was also a little impressed. “You are an evil, vindictive ass.”

  “Thank you,” she said, giving me a mock curtsy.

  I wasn’t proud of it, but I did think about just taking the coffee maker and running out the door. She didn’t even want it for herself, after all. She just wanted to piss me off.

  The promenade was crowded with people. I was close to the door, and I could make it. I was fast enough. My hand was on my pistol. I’d have to leave the station in a hurry, but at least she wouldn’t win.

  And then I’d probably never be able to come back to Ollie’s shop. The Taurus Station security forces would have my face, and I’d either have jail time to endure or a fine to pay if I ever tried to come back to the station.

  All over a stupid coffee maker.

  The man glanced between me and Calista as he hastily finished boxing up the device. He seemed like he was about to have a panic attack, and his eyes only widened when I looked at him. I could see him searching for a convenient place to set the machine down if this encounter went south.

  I glared at him. He responded by lifting the big machine like he could use it to protect himself from me. The same glare seemed to have no effect on the woman standing in front of me with her arms crossed. Her smug expression didn’t falter for even a second.

  “I’ll sell it to you,” she offered.

  “How much?” I growled.

  She named a price three times the amount I had given her ages ago, when I told her she could have her gun back if she paid me well enough for it. For a minute, I actually considered giving her the creds, and my payday must’ve been burning a hole in my pocket for me to indulge the thought for even a second.

  Anything was better than drinking oil-flavored coffee.

  I set my hands on my hips, eyes narrowed as I studied her. The price was almost worth it, but her expression convinced me otherwise.

  Every man had his flaws, and mine was pride. No way I’d let her profit from this. I’d rather do without.

  “Forget it,” I said before turning to the cowering store employee. “The next time I come in here, you’d better have one of these on the shelf.”

  “I can’t hold it for anyone, sir,” he muttered, barely audible above the noise coming in from outside. “I’m sorry, but it’s store policy. Best I can do is let you know when one comes in. You can pay in advance and then I can have it delivered.”

  Calista lifted the massive box in her arms and walked toward the door. I grabbed her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks, but she didn’t flinch. She coolly tilted her head toward me and watched me with those blue eyes, daring me to do or say something stupid.

  “See you around, Renegade,” she said. “Since there are cameras everywhere in this store and loads of witnesses, you can let go of me now.”

  I groaned and released my grip on her shoulder. She disappeared into the crowd on the promenade deck as I stared out after the coffee maker I’d almost bought. Half of me wanted to wring her skinny neck, but the other half of me was impressed that she wasn’t as helpless as she previously had seemed.

  “Sir, the delivery is here,” said Sigmond through my comm. “How goes the hunt for the coffee maker?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I growled into the line. “Ever.”

  13

  I reclined on the couch in the lounge, eyeing the now-stocked kitchenette off to my right as I relaxed into the soft cushions. With the Renegade Star still docked at Taurus Station and enough food to tide me over for a couple of months, I let myself unwind.

  Given my line of work, I didn’t get the chance to relax very often, and I rarely ever let down my guard. Still, with the money I had in the bank from that last job, I could at least stop and take a breather, maybe even kick up my feet for a bit and let myself get comfortable.

  I lifted a whiskey bottle to my mouth and took a long swig, not bothering with a glass this time. After all, I wasn’t in that snooty restaurant anymore. I didn’t have to pretend I cared about frilly nonsense like pretense and manners.

  The whiskey burned my throat, just the way I liked it. As I sat with the soft buzz in my brain, I drank in a long breath and closed my eyes. For the first time in weeks, I relaxed my shoulders and melted into the couch.

  Things were looking up for me. Even though I tended to assume chaos and bad luck were right around the corner if I got too content, I couldn’t deny that things had worked out this time.

  I’d earned quite a few credits from the last job, and that left me with enough money to take a decent little vacation on my ship. I figured I’d drink for a few days and maybe gorge myself on one more steak while I was at it, then relax until I couldn’t handle sitting still anymore. After all was said and done, I’d tell Ollie to find me another job and get back out there.

  I ran a hand through my hair, grateful it had worked out with my new agent. We still had a way to go before I trusted him all the way—though I doubted I ever really would—but this was a good start.

  Ollie had proven himself to be a decent RBO agent and had made good on his word. That alone was enough to put me in a decent mood, because finding a capable agent was apparently a lot harder than I thought it would be when I got into this career.

  Still, I’d intercepted a data stick that would have otherwise given the Sarkonians all the military power they’d need to infiltrate and seize control of the Deadlands. Sure, stealing from my clients wasn’t the best idea, and I’d wind up losing me my agent if Ollie ever learned about it. If the Sarkonians ever found out I’d been the one to switch the sticks, I’d be a dead man, but I didn’t have much choice in the matter.

  Without the Deadlands, I had nothing. Without that freedom of a lawless stretch of space beyond either empire’s control, so many like me would’ve died in Sarkonian slave camps or have been forced to live out their days as a lower class Union citizen—a workhorse for the dogs in power.

  I did
n’t pretend to be a hero, but I wasn’t the only one benefiting from this bait and switch that I’d pulled on the Sarkonians.

  I took another sip of the whiskey to quell the surge of anxiety I felt at stealing from one of the two most powerful governments in the known universe. Both, really. The stick had passed through enough hands to keep anyone from knowing for sure that I’d done it, but I was still the last one they’d seen with it. If I were a powerful empire with a deadly military, I’d come after me, too.

  All the better to avoid Sarkonian space. Not that I went there much, anyway.

  I thought about the data stick, which was still securely stowed away in the hidden compartment in the cargo bay. It stunned me how many secrets were probably on that thing, and I still couldn’t quite figure out what to do with it.

  Selling it back to the Union might have been my best bet, but only if I could figure out a way to do it without getting arrested in the process. If I had possession of valuable data like that, they might assume I’d been the one to steal it, and that wouldn’t end well for me.

  The brief relaxation I’d felt bubbled away, and my shoulders tensed again at the thought of what I’d gotten myself into. This whole thing started as a simple delivery gig. Now look at the hole I’d dug.

  Nice one, Jace.

  I draped my arm over the back of the couch as I sat with the heady buzz that was starting to numb my brain. I didn’t want to worry about Sarkonians or data sticks, and the last thing I needed to do was think about her.

  “Excuse me, sir,” said Sigmond through the lounge’s speaker system. “Someone has knocked on the cargo bay door.”

  “I don’t care,” I told him.

  “I believe it’s a job for you, sir,” pressed Sigmond. “He says he’s looking for someone to take him to the next star system, and he has offered a considerable sum for a quick departure. He was told you’re the one to see.”