Ghost Star

by Roger Eschbacher

  Galen frowned. “No, you shouldn’t. We’re not doing anything that might draw attention to us.”

  Burr nodded, embarrassed. “You’re right, of course.”

  Galen rubbed his hands together and grinned. “This is kind of fun, isn’t it? I haven’t eaten base food in standards.”

  “It’s been an eye-opener to witness how you handle yourself in the outside world, er, Chorl,” said Burr, his eyebrows raised.

  “Now you can see why I was having trouble with the other word you insisted on using. I’m anything but one of those out here.”

  “What creature are those ribs from?” said Messel, a worried tone in her voice.

  “I’m not sure. They’re usually a pretty safe thing to order in terms of taste,” said Galen, then seeing Messel look even more worried, he quickly added, “And health, too. They’re grilled. Heat kills everything—more or less. If you’re still worried, you can eat the starchers. They’re fried plant matter.”

  “Oh thank you,” said Messel, greatly relieved.

  The bot waiter returned with their order. Galen poured everyone a mug of brew. After a tentative sip, Burr pronounced the brew quite good, and the others, seeing he didn’t fall to the ground clutching his throat, tried theirs.

  “It is good!” said Messel. “Tastes like toasted tree nuts.”

  “You know, I think that’s actually what’s used. Careful though, it has a pretty strong kick to it,” said Galen. The same thing happened with the ribs. A few small test bites were taken before a feeding frenzy developed, and all three racks of ribs were stripped clean of any meat. The starchers weren’t a problem either as, apparently, all sentient species across the galaxy recognized the safety and appeal of fried starchy plant matter with a lot of salt. “Let’s go finish our fake out and buy some supplies,” said Galen, getting up.

  Messel put her hand on Galen’s arm. “Wait.”

  Galen sat back down. “What is it?”

  “There’s a black-haired woman with dark eyes sitting in the corner behind you. She’s been watching us since we first got here,” said Messel.

  “I noticed her too,” said Iden. “She’s gorgeous.”

  Burr and Messel frowned at Iden.

  “As attractive as she may be, she also looks dangerous,” whispered Burr.

  Trying to appear casual, Galen pretended to be interested in Hulla’s limited décor, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mystery woman. As his eyes brushed past the far corner, Galen saw the aforementioned woman staring back at him. She nodded, then got up and walked toward them. Galen wheeled around. “She’s coming over!”

  “We can see that,” said Messel. “Ignore her, maybe she’ll go away.”

  “No, she won’t,” said the woman, who was now standing right behind Galen. “She’s too stubborn.” The woman shifted around the table so she could see Galen’s face. Galen glanced up, and his heart skipped a beat. She was gorgeous. Tall and curvaceous, yet with an athletic build, she possessed every physical trait Galen had ever admired in a woman, including the most beautiful face he’d ever seen. She was also heavily armed, with a bolt pistol strapped to her hip, three stun grenades on her belt, and two long knives sticking up from a shoulder harness on her back. Her perfect eyes, black as night, bored holes through him.

  “You look familiar. I’ve been trying to figure out where I know you from ever since you walked in with these civilians,” said the woman.

  Iden guffawed a little too enthusiastically. “Civilians? We’re smugglers and we’re here to pick up supplies and get some chomp, yo.”

  The woman laughed and sat down next to Galen. “Please, don’t insult me. You’re wearing smugglers’ clothes, but you’re not smugglers. Also, that’s the poorest attempt at smugg’slang I’ve ever heard.”

  Iden looked hurt for a moment, then grinned and downed the rest of his brew.

  The woman studied Galen. “They walk like surface dwellers, but you don’t. You’ve lived the life, I can tell. What’s your name?”

  Galen made eye contact with this goddess again and discovered he couldn’t remember either of his names, the fake one or the real one. “Uh, it’s . . .”

  “Chorl,” said Iden. “His name is Chorl.”

  Galen swallowed. “Yeah, I’m Chorl. That’s right.”

  “No, you’re not. Nice try, though. Let’s see,” said the woman as she scanned the table. “Everyone here is trained in the fighting arts. You two have military experience,” she said, looking at Iden and Messel, who wore shocked expressions. “And you, sir, have the authority of great knowledge behind your eyes. Am I right, Burr Tal?”

  Burr’s eyes widened, but he said nothing.

  “How do you know all this?” said Iden, who was shushed by Messel.

  “Easy. You’re Ruam aren’t you?”

  Iden and Messel leaped to their feet, their hands reaching into their cloaks.

  The woman shook her head. “Hold! Do not draw your fighting blades in this place. They’ll come down on you like a shooting star cluster. Sit!”

  Burr motioned for Iden and Messel to sit. “What leads you to the conclusion we are who you say we are?”

  “It’s not hard to recognize your own people or your former tutor is it?” The woman grinned at Burr as she leaned closer and pulled her cloak aside. There, in a scabbard on her belt, was a fighting blade nearly identical to the ones Galen, Iden, and Messel were carrying. “My name is Eria of House Bray, and I am Ruam, too.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Galen and the others stared, dumbfounded, at the woman for a long moment before he was finally able to choke out a few words. “Your house name is . . . Bray?”

  Eria joined them at the table. “That’s right. One of two surviving members of our once great house, myself and my brother Nolo.” She turned to Burr. “Your former pupil, if I’m not mistaken.”

  Burr stared at the table top. “Yes, he was.”

  Galen blinked. “Nolo was your brother?”

  Everyone at the table glanced at each other.

  Eria frowned. “Yes, my brother. What’s wrong?”

  Galen took his time answering. “He’s dead.”

  Eria shook her head. “No, no, no. He’s not dead. No one could kill my brother.”

  “I’m afraid it—” started Burr.

  Eria stood and slammed her fist on the table, briefly drawing the attention of the waiter bot and Hulla’s other patrons. “That is not possible!”

  “Nonetheless . . .”

  Eria lowered her voice. “But the Shre—”

  “He was severely beaten and weakened before the transformation. Nolo was slain by a Nell lord.” Burr gestured toward Galen. “His son witnessed it.”

  Eria took a deep breath, then sat again, staring at Galen. “Son? Of course. That’s why you look familiar.” She brought her hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. “I can’t believe he’s dead.”

  An awkward silence followed, lasting until Eria’s eyes flashed open. “The Nell’s name?”

  “Mohk,” spat Burr.

  Eria repeated the name slowly. “Mohk, of course.”

  “You’ve heard of him?” asked Iden.

  “Oh, yes.” Eria inhaled deeply, then let it out slowly. “He brings his fleet of terror here every few standards to clean house—arresting and killing a lot of innocent people. Well, most of them are innocent. He’s why I’m here. I’m going to slay him on his next visit.”

  Galen blinked again. “Nolo was your brother?”

  Eria nodded. “He was. A great Ruam by anyone’s measure.” She brightened and slapped Galen on the shoulder, jarring him out of his stupor. “That means you’re my nephew!”

  “Nolo never mentioned he had a sister.”

  “To protect me, perhaps? Things were pretty dicey for a long time after the fall. ” She softened and tousled Galen’s hair. “Hey, I’m glad I have some family left.”

  “You have a niece, too,” said Galen. “Her name is Trem, and Mohk took her. We’re
going to rescue her.”

  “Later,” said Burr. “We have a mission of great urgency to take care of first.”

  Eria raised an eyebrow. “There’s something more important than freeing Nolo Bray’s daughter from the clutches of a murderous Nell?”

  Galen surprised himself by answering quickly. “Yes, there is.”

  Burr leaned forward and whispered, “There’s . . . a sizeable Ruam remnant on a hidden planet called Dob.”

  Eria’s eyes widened. “Interesting.”

  “You didn’t know?”

  She shook her head. “I was young at the time of the fall. Too young to be told, apparently. ”

  Burr continued. “This remnant is in grave danger unless we retrieve a device down on Tac’s surface. Undetected, if possible.”

  “Understood.” said Eria, turning to Burr. “Undetected, you say? That’s my specialty. Come with me.”

  Galen crossed his arms. “We have business to take care of first. It’s all part of a plan.”

  Eria raised an eyebrow. “Is it now? Do you want to waste time playing games or do you want to complete your mission and go after my niece?”

  Galen fidgeted. “Complete my mission.”

  “Good. Come with me.”

  Eria stood, as did the others, and the largest known concentration of Ruam outside of the planet Dob filed out of Hulla’s.

  As they made their way through Zed’s wide but crowded passageways, Messel sidled up next to Eria and Galen. “It was our belief you died as a young teen early in the struggle.”

  “Was it? Obviously that didn’t happen. Our parents were indeed killed, but I was hidden away by a childless Terran couple with Ruam sympathies. They eventually brought me here and raised me as their own. Nolo kept tabs on me, and we occasionally met, but contact was kept limited for obvious reasons. It’s for my Ruam parents that I first sought revenge. Now I can add my brother’s death to the list of Mohk’s sins.”

  “I have to say you’ve taken news of my father’s death rather well,” sniffed Galen.

  Eria stopped and glared at Galen, and he could tell she was struggling to maintain control.

  “When you have lived the life I have lived, nephew, and have seen as much suffering and death as I have seen, then come to me with your snide observations about how I should mourn the death of a loved one.”

  Galen looked away, unable to bear the fierceness of Eria’s gaze. “I’m sorry. I haven’t gotten over it yet,” he said, quietly.

  “And you never will,” said Eria. “You get better at tolerating the pain, that’s all.”

  “I understand.”

  Eria stared at Galen for another moment, then flashed a smile and punched him in the arm. “Good.”

  As they continued their walk through the massive orbital station, Galen was hit by the sheer size and population density of Zed and how many of its residents called out a greeting to Eria. At one point, an elderly man stopped them by reaching for her hand.

  “Eria, they’re trying to kick me out of my box again,” he said, a plaintive note in his voice.

  “Now why would they do that, Orbal?”

  Orbal squirmed. “I’m behind on rent.”

  “I see,” said Galen’s aunt, reaching into a pouch on her belt. She handed the old man a short stack of creds. “Here, this should tide you over.”

  Orbal’s eyes brightened. “Oh, thank you, Eria! You are too kind and generous.”

  Eria snorted. “No, I’m not. I am, however, a soft touch, something you are well aware of, old man.”

  Orbal hurried off.

  “Pay your rent first, and ease off on the roule betting!” she called after him. “The odds are always in the house’s favor.”

  Orbal waved, then disappeared into the crowd.

  Galen grinned. “Soft touch, huh?”

  “Orbal’s my friend. They all are.” Just then, a fearsome-looking reptilian with a mouthful of needlelike teeth and thick, abrasive skin cut off Eria and nearly stomped on Galen’s foot as it pushed through the crowd. Galen saw Eria briefly reach for her knife, then back off. “Except for her. She’s not my friend.”

  They continued on, and Galen noticed Zed’s cavernous interior spaces were swarming with most of the known races in this part of the galaxy, plus a few distant exotics and completely unknown residents thrown in for flavor. Fascinated, he apparently was eyeballing the Zedites so much Eria had to warn him to stop staring lest he draw unwanted attention. “Besides, it’s rude,” she said with a smirk.

  Burr seemed fascinated with everything to do with Zed. He stopped frequently to inspect some broken-down piece of Ruam equipment, pointing out various objects and machinery he hadn’t seen in a long time. At one point, he stopped and took a close look at a scarred post in the middle of a turnout. “Whoever’s in charge of maintenance on this station should be executed on the spot!” he grumbled. His nimble fingers danced over a keypad inside a small panel door. Within moments, they heard a low whirring sound, and the lighting in that particular area grew from dim to bright, causing the locals to raise a cheer.

  “What are you doing?” said Eria.

  Burr fidgeted. “Helping?”

  Eria dragged him out of the small crowd that was gathering. “That’ll be enough of that, please. Don’t you think it might attract some unwelcome attention if things on this station start working that haven’t worked since long before anyone here was born?”

  “If our people ever get strong enough to return, I shall come here first and restore this base to its former glory,” said Burr.

  “Great. Until then, no more helping.”

  “Yes, yes. I understand.”

  Galen snorted. “See? I told you not to fix things.”

  Burr waved him off. “Oh, shush.”

  Eria walked ahead with Burr and joined Messel. They were all engaged in spirited conversation, which they dropped to a hushed whisper whenever anyone passed them.

  “They’re talking about Dob and the zaf,” said Iden, who stayed back with Galen.

  “I kinda guessed that. Eria probably can’t believe what she’s hearing.”

  “You got the drift of it.”

  “Aw man, that was weird,” said Galen, stopping and covering his eyes.

  “What, that for a minute you had the hots for your aunt?”

  “Shut up! I didn’t know!” said Galen in a too-loud voice.

  The others stopped and briefly looked back.

  “We’re fine,” said Iden before turning to Galen. “Sorry, just teasing you. She’s a beautiful stranger. Easy mistake to make.”

  “Yeah. Whatever.”

  Eria stopped and held up her hand for silence. “Listen.”

  “What is it?” whispered Burr.

  “Imp rotor bikes headed this way, fast.”

  “Are you serious?” said Messel. “Could they be surplus or stolen?”

  A high-pitched whine in the distance grew louder and closer.

  “Not likely. In any case, I’d rather not find out. Follow me.”

  Eria took off in the opposite direction. Everyone else stood frozen in place until she yelled, “That means now!” over her shoulder. They had barely reached the space between two vendor stalls when six rotor bikes, each carrying two Nell marines, whirred into an open area near them. The marines climbed off the bikes and fanned out through the crowd.

  “What are they doing here?” said Galen.

  “Don’t know. Maybe searching for someone in particular, maybe not,” said Eria. “Come on, let’s head for my ship. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Galen shook his head. “We need our ship to extract the zaf.”

  “This is about escaping with our lives. The zaf comes later. Now move it!” Eria led them through a tangled warren of shops and restaurants until they reached the shell wall. Through a smudged viewplate, they could see a massive battle cruiser attached to one of the docking ports. “I thought so. I’ll bet there’s another one on the other side of the OS. These c
reeps specialize in overkill. The question is, why did he show up now?”

  “Mohk?” asked Galen.

  Eria gestured toward the viewplate. “That’s his flagship.”

  Galen gritted his teeth. “Trem is there.”

  “Come on. We’ll go to my craft and give them the slip by leaving the station,” said Eria. “Then we can drop down planetside and send for your ship by remote.”

  Messel glanced about nervously. “Can’t we hide out somewhere until they leave?”

  “They won’t leave until they account for everything on this dump,” said Eria. “You signed in at the air dock, didn’t you?”

  “I gave them a fake name,” said Galen.

  Eria shook her head. “They’ll be checking for false identities against the Imperium database, so that’s not going to work for very long. What’s your real name, by the way? My brother would have never named his son Chorl.”

  “Galen.”

  “Galen. Now that’s more like it! He named you after our uncle. I won’t be embarrassed to say that one out loud.”

  “I have a thought,” said Messel. “If we go down to the planet, won’t they see us leaving?”

  “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “My sister’s on that ship. For all I know, she’s being tortured or worse.” said Galen. “I have to rescue her.”

  “Don’t worry. I didn’t forget.”

  Galen and the others followed Eria along the outer wall of the station. A small path ran between the wall and the ramshackle buildings that housed the inhabitants of Zed. Galen accidentally brushed his hand against the wall and yanked it away. It was so cold it burned. It was the cold of space coming through. No wonder they didn’t build their houses right up against it, he thought. He ran into Eria’s back. She had stopped and was holding up her hand.

  Eria faced them. “Okay, here’s the deal. This path ends about twenty steps ahead and empties out into an open area that’s used for athletics. On the other side of the field is a bank of air docks. That’s where my ship is. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem getting there. We’ll split up and make our ways separately. Pretty soon this place is going to be crawling with Imps, if it isn’t already. We’ve got to hurry. Oh, and if you’re stopped, run. Or kill them if you have to.”