by Leslie Chase
The second alien flung a piece of scrap metal into the shadows behind the counter, hard. An outraged squeal and hiss answered him.
“Don’t know. Some vermin, but it’s fast. Bet you six imps I get it before you do?”
The first Drall cocked his head to the side, laughed. “I get first throw.”
I felt sick listening to them, and I’d had enough of it. They were tormenting some poor animal for no purpose other than sadism, and I refused to put up with it. Rapping my knuckles on the counter to get their attention, I peered into the corner they’d targeted.
Two small eyes gleamed in the dark shadows, reflecting green. I looked closer, making out a small bundle of black fur. The details were lost in the darkness.
“You want in on the game?” The Drall seemed to find that amusing, looking me up and down with a horrible grin on his long, leathery face. “We can fit you in, sure. Six imperial crowns to play.”
That was a lot of money. I might not have trade on Nautilus Station figured out, but that would buy half a tank of fuel for the Ladies’ Choice, easy. And the two of these monsters were throwing it around like it was nothing, livening up their day by tormenting an animal and betting on who’d hurt it first.
I swallowed my horror, tried to focus on the reason I was here. If I distracted them with a chance to earn some money, perhaps they’d lose interest in animal torture and the poor thing would get away.
“I’m not here to gamble, I’m here for business,” I said, tapping my credit chip on the counter for emphasis. “I bought out a contract with you folks and need to resolve it.”
The Drall both perked up at that turning their attention to me. The predatory look in their beady eyes made me glad I planned to cash out the contract. Who’d want to work with people whose idea of fun is throwing scrap metal at animals?
“I’m Syrcen,” the larger of the two said, grinning wide enough to show me rows of teeth made for tearing flesh. More of a threat display than a smile. “I run the Drall Clan here, and we offer all financial services.”
Yep, I knew that smile and that kind of businessman all too well. Dad had lost the farm to them when the bank loans went bad and he had to turn to ‘alternative’ lenders. Mobsters, or the next best thing.
Out here there wasn’t even the pretense of law to keep them in line. That would only make them worse, more predatory, and looking at those teeth I didn’t have any trouble imagining that.
Would any of the other gangs be better? No way of knowing, and no point in making enemies unless I had to. I swallowed my nerves and smiled back, trying for warm and disarming.
“Pleased to meet you, Syrcen,” I said, as genuinely as I could manage. “I’m Captain Carrie Ferrow, of the Ladies’ Choice. Bought out the Admiral Carstairs’ salvage contract.”
Syrcen nodded, extending a hand to me. So he knew some human customs, that was a little reassuring. I gripped it firmly, feeling the strength of his grip as he squeezed a touch too hard.
Testing me, showing off, or just indulging his sadism? Whatever he wanted, giving him no reaction seemed like the best response.
“I remember the Admiral Carstairs,” he rumbled as he let go of my hand. “Good ship, bad luck, ended up in a hole they couldn’t climb out of and vanished. I’m sure you’ll do better.”
A flick of his hand brought up a hologram display, and my comm sent confirmation of the contract. Accounts flickered into view and I couldn’t hide a wince. Einstein’s balls, I’ll skin that motherfucker if I catch up with him.
I hadn’t expected much. Cordway had cashed out as much as possible before leaving, but according to him there’d been a little credit in the account. Enough for refueling, maybe upgrade some simple gear, that kind of thing.
Instead, the books dripped red like a murder scene. Forget refueling, according to this we owed more than we’d paid for the Ladies’ Choice. I took a deep breath and hoped my anger hadn’t shown through.
My instincts screamed at me to walk away. This wasn’t the deal I’d agreed to, Cordway had cheated me, and I didn’t have any obligation to pay his debts. Except that meant giving up his salvage license, too, and that meant no way to make money.
A carrier ship would come through in a few months, but until then we’d be stuck here. I wasn’t even sure we’d be able to feed ourselves that long, and if we did, all we’d win was a trip back to Earth and a bankruptcy.
To make this work, we needed that license. And the gator-grin on Syrcen’s face made it clear he knew how trapped I was.
“It looks bad, I know,” the Drall said with false sympathy. “But we can sort you out, no problem. Give you a startup loan to get you settled, fueled, and working. We’ll broker your sales in the market, exchange currencies, no trouble. Quicker and cheaper than trying to haggle the exchanges every time.”
Sure, and you skim a bit off the top each time. I didn’t say that out loud. Scrolling through the list of fees he sent to my comms display, I tried to hide a wince. That was a big cut for someone just handling currency exchange, but… yeah. There were a hundred currencies in use, all changing value depending on which trade ships had docked recently. Keeping track of them all would be a full-time job, and one we’d be better subcontracting.
Still. A big chunk of every transaction would go to the Drall, on top of the frankly ridiculous interest on the loan. I looked up at him, and something must have shown on my face because he laughed, a huge green hand clapping down on my shoulder.
“I know it looks like a big cut, but it’s normal here,” he said. His horrible grin widened. “It’s a risky business, scavengers go missing all the time in Inferno system. Especially ones with no backing, see? Got to protect our profits, or we’ll go out of business and that doesn’t help anyone.”
Ah. A protection racket too. Obvious, but what could we do about it? Thanks a fucking lot, Captain Cordway. You could have warned us who we’d be going into business with.
It was easy to see why he hadn’t, in hindsight. He’d just scraped his way out of the system and needed fast cash to keep his own ship running. Just like I would, if I turned around and left now.
A quick check of the file the Chrichri had sent over told me I wasn’t likely to get a better deal elsewhere. The gangs had this place sewn up, and we’d spent all our money to get here.
Still, it might be better to work with the Chrichri. Creepy hive-mind insects they might be, but their spokesperson tried to warn me about the Drall.
Of course, now it would mean borrowing enough to settle our suddenly acquired debt to the Drall. Would they even be interested once they found out how fucked we were? For the Drall, this was a chance to get back money they were owed. The Chrichri would be putting fresh cash on the table with no reason to think we’d be able to pay it back.
I scowled, trying to decide what to do, when the other Drall threw a chunk of metal into the shadows. A yowling protest filled the air, and I grimaced at the tormented noise. Whatever was making it didn’t deserve to be left to the mercy of these thugs.
“You’ve got me boxed in,” I said, making a quick decision. A rash one? Sure, but fuck it. “I’ll take the deal, but there’s another thing I need first.”
“Oh?” He looked magnanimous in victory, but I knew how mercurial a loan shark like this could be.
“That animal in the corner,” I said, pointing into the corner where the green eyes peered out of the dark. “Throw in whatever it is, and you’ve got a deal.”
“You’re not serious,” the other Drall turned away from the critter, scowling at me. “That thing’s worth six imps to me.”
“Or to me,” Syrcen said, eying me curiously. “And it’s worth nothing to you.”
Yeah, but I’ll feel better about today if I’ve at least saved something from you. That wasn’t a winning argument. I crossed my arms, looked him dead in the eyes.
“So, one of you is up six, the other down? Sounds like you don’t win anything on balance. Might as well let me take it and get
the contract signed. I’m sure you can find something else to bet on.”
A moment passed and I started to sweat. What would I do if they didn’t back down? Walk away and tell the others I’d turned down the only chance we’d have here because of some random animal?
But then Syrcen laughed. A horrible, gurgling sound, it spoke more of cruelty than humor. “Tell you what, human, if you can catch it, you can keep it.”
“Done.” I vaulted the counter before he changed his mind, looking into the dark corner. The shadows held a little bundle of even darker black, a void with eyes. I edged towards it warily.
Behind me the two Drall laughed, switching to a language I didn’t know. Not that it mattered — I had a pretty good idea that they were betting on who’d come out on top, me or the critter.
My eyes adjusted as I moved into the dark, and the animal hissed at me again, showing fangs. I blinked as I made out its silhouette.
Is that a cat? An Earth cat?
“What are you doing all the way out here?” I asked quietly, fishing in my pocket and trying to remember what I had there. Anything that might serve as a treat? “Did you get left behind by your ship?”
The poor thing was skinny, malnourished, and frightened. I pulled out a pocket ration, glanced at the ingredients. Nothing that should be dangerous to a cat. Hopefully the flavor would appeal.
I broke a bit off, tossed it on the floor, and stayed back. The cat hissed at me, glaring suspiciously, but hunger got the better of it and it snarfed down the crumbs of beef-flavor protein.
Another chunk, dropped a little closer to me, brought it forward. Another, and another, and then the poor thing was right in front of me, taking the last piece from my fingers. Very, very carefully, I took it by the scruff of the neck.
The cat froze, and I lifted it in both arms, turning with a triumphant smile. The smaller Drall laughed, Syrcen glowered but handed over some coin. “Fine, you can take the vermin with you, human. Your account’s active as soon as you sign, so you can go shopping. If I were you, I’d start earning fast.”
Maybe annoying my banker wasn’t the best way to start a business relationship, but it was too late for second thoughts? Pressing my thumb into the hologram contract beside Syrcen’s thumbprint, I accepted the debt and the fresh loan. The numbers made me wince, and I left before I found a way to make things worse.
The squirming bundle of fur in my arm distracted me from my dark thoughts. Best to get the cat back to the Ladies’ Choice before I lost control of it.
“You need a name,” I told the cat, feeding it another chunk of ration bar as we crossed the market. Frowning, I considered the bundle of fur. “Munchkin? Yeah, Munchkin. Welcome aboard, and I hope you change our luck. We need it.”
“Look, we can make a profit,” I reassured the others while Munchkin descended on a bowl of food under the galley table. He (I’d checked before letting him down) wasn’t letting any of us near him if he could help it, but he’d take our food happily enough.
I’d had to delay the crew meeting while the others squeed about the latest addition to the crew, but when the attention sent Munchkin hissing into a corner, we backed off and gave him some space.
“I’ve looked at the prices you got, at the cut the Drall will take, and if we work our butts off, we’ll come out ahead,” I continued, calling up a display of my calculations. “It’ll be hard work, but none of us are afraid of that, right?”
They exchanged glances. Michaela scowled, Alice looked through the figures and shook her head. No one spoke up for or against.
“It’s this or go home,” I said. “I don’t like it, those assholes are not good people, but either we take the deal the Carstairs’ crew sold us, or we set out for Earth and hope we can sell the contract on.”
“Putting this mess on some other sucker,” Michaela groaned. “Yeah, not cool.”
“So, crew decision time. We either go ahead, work hard, and see if we can find a better class of loan shark to move over to… or we give up, go home, and see what we can salvage from our little adventure. I vote stay. What do you say?”
The five looked at each other, then nodded. None looked happy, and neither was I, but no one argued with the consensus.
“Okay, it’s unanimous. We stay and make the best of it,” I said, making our decision official.
Now I just had to hope I hadn’t led my crew into a disaster.
2
Delkor
Unable to move, unable to see, trapped inside a space too small to make a decent coffin, I woke. It wasn’t just the tight space that kept me from moving — my body refused to respond to my commands.
Some might have panicked at that, but I am a Caibar warrior. Panic isn’t in my repertoire.
Inky blackness surrounded me and I couldn’t even feel my hearts beat. Moving my fingers, my toes, even the smallest motion was impossible. Worse, fog shrouded my thoughts, scattering my memories. Vague images flashed in front of me, battles, trees, flames, people all mixing in a chaotic kaleidoscopic swirl.
Stasis, I realized without knowing where the thought came from. I’m in a survival pod and these are stasis dreams.
That realization helped. A stasis pod extended its contents into hyperspace, which kept time from passing but invited the strange dreams travelers sometimes experienced. Some noble poets and artists used that for inspiration, I vaguely remembered, locking themselves away for months or even years to ensure they got the visions they sought.
Which made me wonder how long I’d been in stasis, and why?
The images steadied, slowed enough that I made out details. A village under blue trees, happy people working amongst them. A city on fire, the terrible screams of the trapped population, the awful smell as they burned.
A man in an ornate uniform, strange and alien but also somehow compelling. Feathers on his head instead of hair, no tail, and almost-white skin. I didn’t remember his name, his species, or what he’d done — but I remembered my hatred. The mere sight of him made my blood burn.
Details came to me, carried on the tide of hate. That was Duke-Admiral Lonsuise, an Imperial noble. Which made me…
Delkor. In a minor triumph, I remembered my name. Delkor of the Caibar, pack-alpha and warrior for the Empire.
No, that wasn’t right, not any more. A rebel against the Empire. More memories stirred, and with them came rage.
Rage at the betrayals of our trust, of our bodies, of our souls.
Memories of service and rebellion mixed sickeningly, dreamlike horrors in each. Cities burning by my hand, because they defied the Empire. Imperial nobles torn open, cast into the vacuum. I struggled to move, to wake, but it was futile. There is no escaping stasis.
Trying to pull the dream away from the horrors of war, I looked for something else to focus on. Something happier, or at least less tragic.
I turned my mind back to the one place I thought of as safe. The planet of my birth which we simply called Home.
Huge blue-green trees sheltered the village where I’d grown up, and I remembered the happy days I’d spent fishing in the stream with my mother, learning to hunt with my father.
It had been a happy time before the Empire came… but no, I turned my thoughts away from that. I didn’t want to remember how I’d left Home.
Turning away from the village, I jogged into the forest, pushing aside the bluish hanging vines. Somewhere here, my mate waited for me. The mate I’d never met, never known before I left for the stars.
My need for her was an aching longing in my chest, one that would only be filled when I found her. An emptiness that would consume me, kill me, if I didn’t claim her.
Setting off into my memories of the forest, I wondered what she’d be like. That was surely a safe question to ask, one that would keep my mind off more painful things.
She’d be tall, lithe, smart as a whip and quick as a laser. If my lips could move I’d have smiled. Over the long years away I’d thought a lot about who she’d be: not a warri
or, but a hunter perhaps? Someone with whom I’d talk of dangers, who would understand. And brave enough to see me for myself, not the half Caibar, half machine I’d become in Imperial service.
There! Movement ahead, running footsteps. Someone pushing the brush aside, vanishing ahead of me. With dream-logic certainty I knew it was her, my mate, the love of my life.
I launched myself after her, chasing and hunting. Ahead, she laughed delightedly as she led me on a merry chase until at last I was close enough to pounce through the foliage and bear her to the ground.
We rolled over and over, laughing, and it was only when we came to a stop, my weight pinning hers, that I realized how strange she was.
Smaller than a Caibar female, tailless, soft. Eyes that gleamed green, red hair, pale skin. Not like us at all.
Her breasts rose and fell beneath the strange garment she wore, and she struggled against my strength. Futilely, far too weak to pull free, but she tried.
And the gleam in her eyes made me certain that this was a contest she didn’t mind losing. She felt the bond just as I did, to my horror.
This strange tailless thing was my mate? No, I refused to believe it. I refused to. It was a nightmare borne of the stasis trapping me, nothing more.
And yet, and yet… my hearts cried out for her, and those delightful, luscious lips looked perfect for kissing. She might not be a Caibar, whatever she was, but she still set my soul aflame.
I struggled against the dream, fighting it, trying to reimagine my mate as I knew she had to be. Dark blue skin and darker hair, a tail… but no, the once-clear image of her refused to replace this bizarre alien female.
The scene faded as I struggled with it, darkness creeping in at the edges. It closed around me, the stasis chamber reclaiming me and sending me back into the void’s embrace. As she faded away, my soul called out for the strange alien mate. But there was no resisting the inevitable and I slipped back into a deep and dreamless slumber.
