The Elarri Heist (Plundering the Stars Book 1)

by James David Victor

  Once the others were ready, we climbed down the ladder to the cargo hold and made our way to the exit ramp. It was already open and Pivek was scampering down it without a second thought for us.

  “Where are you heading?” I asked him.

  ‘I have some things I want to look into. I shouldn’t be gone for long.’

  I nodded and watched as he descended the ramp. “Okay, well, be careful. Don’t try to draw attention.”

  He hummed in that weird way his people laughed. ‘I’m not you. I can be invisible when I need to be.’

  “Sir,” I said, feigning hurt, “I am a master thief. I never get caught.”

  “If you never got caught, you wouldn’t have a bounty on your head,” retorted Jinx.

  “I could say the same for you.”

  She smiled and made a rude gesture.

  We left Ketellin with the ship and followed Amara. We’d all been on Preoria before, but she was the one who knew where Zemi was, so it was up to her to get us there fast. Though it wouldn’t be the end of the world to have to pay double for hangar fees, I’d rather save the money for something more important, like things we might need for the heist. Alcohol for instance, or some good hunra.

  Of course, we usually tried to find a discreet, free place to land, but best not to take any chances on this planet where anyone and everyone was a potential predator looking for prey.

  The hangars were deep and dim, lit by floating orbs that radiated a pale green light. There were floor lights around the ships so that pilots and engineers could see while they did repairs and fueled up, but in general, it was hard to see for the common eye. Though us Goons had worse eyesight than a lot of species.

  We walked past plenty of vessels large and small, some general traders and some specialized hunting ships, equipped with all manner of weaponry and traps. One had a gravity well generator, which was interesting because I thought only frigates had the power to make use of them. Pivek would love to get his hands on it, I was sure.

  No one paid us any mind, thankfully. Or so it seemed anyway. Amara led us out of the hangar through a series of narrow, winding tunnels cut into the rock of the canyon. They were barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side, and that was accounting only for the size of humans. Pivek and other large species would have a harder time.

  When we finally emerged into the city proper of Goldclaw, my breath caught, as it usually did on the blessed few times I’d come here. It was a city built into the canyon face, built on gravity wells and suspension ropes, and carved out of the rock itself. It was all vertical, all steepness and open air. Thank goodness I wasn’t afraid of heights, otherwise it would have been a nightmare.

  It was a colorful city. The orange of the canyon walls blazed bright in the spots where the sun shone, and a rainbow of banners—belonging to the many hunting guilds—fluttered in the fierce winds.

  Bounty hunters could earn more when they went on their own, but being in a guild had benefits, like having a home and family, having people on your side to help you. The same could be said with us thieves. Could we make more on our own? Sure. I wouldn’t need to split the scratch with anyone, but then if I got caught, that was it.

  It was always good to have someone watching your back, no matter the profession.

  Amara guided us through streets clogged with alien races and weapons. We kept close together and kept our heads down. Even though I knew I was inconspicuous, the number of eyes made me itch. Even Jinx, who usually shined in a crowd and had nerves of steel despite everything she’d been through, was anxious enough that she laced her fingers through mine. I gave her hand a squeeze and she squeezed back.

  We’d be fine. We always were.

  Eventually, we made our way off the crowded main streets and down some side lanes. We passed the side of what smelled like either a waste disposal plant or a really bad bar, though there were few differences. I would have thought nothing of the building, but then I noticed them. The bounty posters.

  The building was built from the canyon rock, so the walls were rough and orange. Plastered across the blank surface were dozens, maybe even a hundred, wanted posters. Men, women, all races and species from across the stars, some famous and with fortunes for bounties and others you’d hardly glance at.

  And then I saw ours.

  It had been a while since I’d seen a wanted poster of myself. I was flattered that I was so famous, though obviously having a price on your head was very problematic. But even though it was me, the likeness had a lot of flaws. They’d made my cheeks too round, whereas my cheek bones were sharp enough to cut through our ship’s hull. My nose was too beaky on the poster, whereas I had a dainty and I’d say downright delicate nose. The only improvement was that they made my mouth a normal size. I’d always thought I had a much too big a mouth, both literally and figuratively.

  The rest was pretty standard and accurate. They nailed my cleft chin and my prominent jaw, though they gave me more stubble than I deserved, and my hair was much shorter in the picture. Now it was down to my shoulders, though I usually kept it tied back. And they drew me scowling, which was so unlike me. I could be in front of a firing squad and still find a way to crack an annoying smile.

  It was a blessing and a curse.

  I knew it wouldn’t do any real good, but even so, I tore down the poster and shredded it. Every little bit helped, right?

  The others had wanted posters too: Amara and Jinx, both so accurate that it was almost alarming, like looking at a holo of them. Ketellin had one too, though his was for a considerably lower price than mine. Pivek and Rowan were absent from the heat, since Rowan was still relatively new to our operations and thus hadn’t had a chance to earn a rep. As for Pivek, well, he always stayed with the ship.

  The four of us stood in front of the bounties and looked them over. The girls scowled and tore theirs down, and for that, I did not blame them.

  “Why is yours so terrible and mine so accurate?” Amara complained.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t get caught so much?” I offered. She scowled and flicked my forehead, which only made me smile more.

  Jinx made a point to lower her hood and pull her cloak tighter around her. I had the urge to do the same, though I felt safer knowing that my poster was a little less accurate.

  Amara scoffed, did the same as Jinx, and waved us on. “Come on, Zemi’s place isn’t too much further.”

  We followed her through the dense streets filled with more exotic sights than most would see in their lifetime. I swore I counted at least thirty or forty different species along the way, a denizen of every known spacefaring race present and accounted for. All the races from the Hegemony, the Free Systems, the human alliances, and even some from the Vitoss Collective and their client races, all of which rarely left their sovereign territories. It was a vast collection all together, a melting pot of galactic culture, and honestly, the one bright spot of this planet.

  And, as always, it helped us blend in.

  We started climbing the city levels, through various means. Grav-lifts, mostly, but a few times we had to use the perilously steep and narrow stairs carved out of the rock. I wasn’t afraid of heights, but even so, they made me nervous. How some people lived in this city and navigated its vertical nature without difficulty was beyond me.

  “Couldn’t we have just taken a lift to whatever level Zemi lives on from the hangar?” Jinx asked, her grip crushing my hand. She did, as I recalled, have a slight fear of heights. This was not ideal.

  Amara shrugged and didn’t look back. “Maybe. But I don’t know the way from the upper levels. You don’t want me getting us lost in this city.”

  No, I didn’t think any of us wanted that. At least getting back from this level wouldn’t be too bad. There were signs pointing to the hangars, after all.

  Finally, we came to a less crowded area, a cluster of shanties and stone buildings connected by rickety bridges and wires and makeshift gravity wells like the ones we’d seen on Elarra.
These looked more stable, but then again, we hadn’t had to go on the ones on Elarra, so who knew?

  Amara slowed her pace and darted her head left and right. She muttered as she walked.

  Rowan cleared his throat, a hand tight around the grav-blade at his hip. “I hope you didn’t forget which house is hers.”

  “I didn’t,” she snapped. “It’s building two-oh-oh-one-two. There’s just a lot of doors and windows.”

  Knowing the number helped, so we all scanned the buildings for our target. And she was right, there were so many houses and doors and openings and people all clustered together that it was easy to lose track of where the heck we were. And unfortunately, the building numbers jumped around randomly, as if no thought was put into numerical organization whatsoever. What was the bleeding point of having numbers if they weren’t in order?

  I was beginning to give up on finding our mystery Zarthian when Jinx released my hand and pointed to a house above us. She practically hopped.

  “Oh, I found it! Up there!”

  And there it was, a dirty mess of a building with old paper ads stuck to the sides, weathered by wind and rain, and lots of cracked windows and glow paint. Building 2-0-0-1-2.

  “Looks like a piece of crap,” said Rowan.

  “You sure your friend is still here?” I asked. It would be a real pain if we came all this way and risked stepping into this den for nothing.

  “I told you I wasn’t sure. You knew the risk. Besides, her house looked like this the last time I was here. Though the paint is new.”

  I supposed we’d just have to pray. The saints owed me a favor or two anyway. That should count for something.

  Amara led us around a few of the lower surrounding buildings to where a ladder was propped up against the side. She scampered up it, though it shook and groaned even under her small size. Not a good sign. We followed and were lucky it didn’t give way under Rowan’s bulk.

  We stood outside Zemi’s front door. It was made of rusty metal, with faded green paint that was chipped and peeling all over. It wasn’t a mechanized door, just an old hinged thing that no doubt would squeak loudly. Amara took a deep breath and rapped her knuckles against it. It panged loudly.

  We waited one beat, then two, then five, then ten. Still, no sound came. I was beginning to give up when the faintest whisper of footsteps sounded inside. They came to a stop, and then I noticed the curtains behind the clouded window flutter ever-so-slightly. Finally, a muffled voice spoke from behind the door.

  “What do you want, Amara?”

  It wasn’t the voice of a friend or someone who was happy to see us. Though I supposed in our disguises, we probably looked more intimidating than we usually would.

  “I just want to talk. My friends and I need some help and some information that you may be able to provide.”

  There was a long pause from behind the door. I guessed Zemi was considering her options, and she came to a conclusion that I didn’t appreciate. There was the click of her door being locked and she yelled, “Piss off!”

  Amara sighed and sagged her shoulders. “Please, Zemi.”

  “Oh, to hell with this,” Rowan said with an exasperated groan. He pushed Amara aside and kicked in the door. It flew open with a crack and a screech that I’d expected. Zemi squealed inside. Rowan stood aside and gestured for Amara to go in. “See? Not so hard.”

  She scoffed and strode in. We followed.

  The inside of Zemi’s home stank of staleness and excrement and was drab and falling apart. I’d be disgusted if it wasn’t so depressing, and so, so, so familiar that it tugged at my heart.

  Zemi herself laid on the ground, dazed, but she scrambled to her feet to face us. She was a sight and not a good one. Unlike Amara’s jade skin, Zemi’s was a rich magenta, but that was all that was rich about it. She was more bone than muscle, and she made the rest of her diminutive race look stocky by comparison. Her skin sagged and her cheeks were terribly gaunt. And I saw why. Her bare arms trembled, and I could see needle marks littering her skin.

  Amara must have been just as alarmed, if not more, by the sight, because she sucked in a breath. “Oh, Zemi…”

  Zemi growled, reached back behind her, and brought out a small blaster pistol, covered in rust and dirt but still looking effective.

  And all hell broke loose.

  Jinx fished out a similar small blaster from her hip and pointed it at Zemi. Rowan unsheathed his grav-blade and held it at the ready. Amara was faster than any of them. She pulled out a small cartridge from beneath her cloak that expanded into a large plasma cannon, the end burning bright and humming with energy.

  Zemi shook and frowned at the sight of it all, but she didn’t lower her weapon.

  Meanwhile, I was left standing there like an idiot. “You brought weapons?” I demanded, scowling and trembling at the intensity of this showdown.

  Amara scoffed. “We’re wanted criminals on a hostile planet where everyone would gladly take our heads for a sack of digits. Yes, we brought weapons. Use that little brain of yours, Yan.”

  Well, I couldn’t say she was wrong, though I wished she wasn’t so hurtful. Jinx gave me a sympathetic look but didn’t lower her blaster pistol either.

  Amara didn’t want this to escalate, because what would be the point? It would be a waste of a trip since we came for help, not to kill some random Zarthian. So, she lowered her weapon, but she didn’t stow it, and neither did Jinx or Rowan. Zemi was a junkie on edge, so it would be unwise to put them away completely.

  “We don’t want to hurt you, Zem. We just— I just want to talk to you.”

  Zemi’s eyes darted all around, and it was clear she was thinking of doing something stupid. But it seemed that something smart clicked in that brain of hers, because she dropped her blaster and stumbled away until she collapsed into a torn-up chair. She hugged her knees to her chest.

  “So talk, hegelli’a.”

  I didn’t know what that word meant, but it made Amara tense. That would have to be a question for later.

  Amara did stow her cannon, because honestly, it was overkill. Jinx kept hers out just in case. Amara walked tentatively up to her friend and crouched in front of her, but we kept our distance.

  “I know you used to work for the Elexaes, specifically at Lord Xarren’s manor.”

  Zemi looked away. “I… I did. Why does that matter?”

  “Because me and my friends here are going to rob the vault.”

  That got her attention. Zemi stared at us like we were crazy. Maybe we were.

  “There’s no way you’re going to get out of there alive, Amara.”

  “We have a plan, let us worry about it.”

  She scoffed. “Then why do you need me?”

  “Because I know that while you worked there, a friend of yours was caught trying to break into the vault and was killed. I know that you were fired because of it, that everyone was because Xarren didn’t trust his staff. And I know that you and the thief were close. So, what can you tell me?”

  This was news to Jinx and I. Rowan didn’t appear surprised, but then, it was often hard to get a read on him. This seemed like information that Amara should have told us. So, this was how Zemi could help. She might have tried to steal from the big bad on her own.

  Zemi started to shake terribly and tears welled up in her eyes. Amara changed into a different person. She got close to her fellow Zarthian and cupped her cheeks and wiped away her tears.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay. I know what Belvi’s death did to you. But you have to help us. For his memory. If we pull this off, I’ll take care of you. Understand?”

  Zemi looked at Amara through her tears and nodded.

  I just blinked. Amara had never mentioned Zemi, or really anything of her life before the Sanara. That was many decades of history that we knew nothing about, and clearly, Zemi and her had some sort of past connection.

  “D-do you… Do you k-know about the vault?” Zemi asked as she tried to compose herself and cle
ar away the tears.

  Amara looked back at me, a question on her lips. I shrugged. “What about the vault?” I asked.

  “Most of the manor’s security can be controlled from the security tower on the southern end of the grounds,” Zemi said, seeming to feel better. “One of you will need to disable the automated sensors, and the cameras, and whatever else that freak has added.”

  “But what about the vault?”

  She wiped the last of her tears. “The vault can only be opened by Xarren himself. It’s biometrically encoded.”

  I sighed. Jinx and Rowan both gave me concerned looks. The plans had just gotten a lot harder, but we’d think of something.

  Amara nodded. “Thank you, Zemi.”

  Zemi nodded. And then we descended into silence, one that was as heavy and thick as the air.

  “Guys, can you give us a minute?” Amara asked.

  “No problem,” Jinx replied. She holstered her blaster and took Rowan and I by the arms, dragging us outside.

  We waited for a few minutes for whatever Amara had to say to Zemi. We closed the door and thankfully didn’t hear any of it. Although I was usually a glutton for conversation, now didn’t seem the time, even if there was a lot to talk about.

  Finally, the door swung open with a painful creak, and out came Amara. Her eyes were red. She strode past us and climbed down the ladder with us on her heels. My heart ached for her. I considered her the strongest of us, so when she was rattled, it rattled me.

  “So,” I began, trying to prod away the silence. “do you mind if I ask who Zemi is?”

  Probably not my smartest move, but I was curious. Jinx slapped my arm and shook her head with a frown. I shrugged. It was an innocent question; I didn’t need their whole history. And Amara being Amara, she didn’t give it to me.

  “She is…was a friend.”

  And that was that.

  Amara paused and looked up at the canyon ceiling above and the bits of sky that we could see. She took in a deep breath and breathed out, her shoulders relaxing.

  “Come on, we have a lot more work to do now.”

  That was an understatement.