Revolutionary Right

by Wayne Basta

  He knew he shouldn’t be surprised that Josserand had been playing both sides. The man was perfectly capable of it. Most everyone on this ship was. He had more anger directed at himself than Josserand. How else had the others infiltrated Josserand’s cargo? He had considered the possibility once, but it had been irrelevant at the time. Since then, it had never come up again, and he had forgotten all about it.

  Maarkean looked over at Gu’od and Gamaly. The pair was sitting on the lone bench. Gamaly was leaning up against Gu’od with her eyes closed while he slowly stroked her back. It was almost touching. They had ended up behind bars every time so far. Maarkean felt sorry for them.

  After what seemed like a long time but had probably not been more than an hour, a video monitor across from the two cells activated. Displayed on them was the image of a bipedal furred creature. It bore a loose resemblance to a Notha, though its fur was orange instead of the various brown shades of most Nothas.

  Examining the creature displayed on the monitor, Maarkean tried to identify it. He had never seen a species like that before. It was possible the creature was a dyed and cosmetically modified Notha. The most likely explanation was that it was merely a computer overlay masking the real person.

  “I guess he meant ‘the Fox’ literally,” Zeric whispered beside him.

  Maarkean cast a curious expression toward him, and Zeric explained, “A fox is an animal from Terra. Kind of like dogs, but not.”

  Maarkean had seen dogs before. They were a common companion among Terrans. Several other species had also adopted them, though Notha were often offended by it. He’d never understood that. Terrans weren’t offended when other species kept monkeys as pets, and they were genetic cousins. Notha and dogs had no genetic relationship, only some common physical characteristics.

  “I understand that you have violated the peace I’ve declared aboard my ship,” the creature on the monitor said. There was no discernible accent, which made Maarkean sure the whole thing was artificially rendered to disguise the owner.

  “My lord,” Josserand began with a bow, “my bodyguard was accosted by the Liw’kel at the direction of his captain, Maarkean Ocaitchi. There was a business disagreement between us, and he chose to decide the matter violently.”

  Maarkean wasn’t sure he wanted to address a digital image as ‘my lord.’ He decided to skip the formalities. “That was merely a safety measure to keep your thug from doing the same thing. My friends here came to confront you about the fact that you hired me to deliver cargo, and you hired them to slip aboard in that cargo to steal my ship.”

  The Fox did not appear to take any notice of the use or lack of use of a title. He directed his next question toward Josserand. “Is this true?”

  Josserand answered semi-honestly. “Technically, my lord. I did allow these individuals to use my cargo to hide in. I had no idea what they were planning, however. I certainly had no desire to have one of my deliveries hijacked. They betrayed me just as much as they betrayed Captain Ocaitchi.”

  To Maarkean’s surprise, the Fox said, “You have already been warned about activities like this before. What people do off this ship is not normally my concern. But for business to prosper, everyone must feel comfortable coming here and not have to worry about being pirated from within. Josserand Renard, you are hereby banned from the Black Market. All of your property onboard is forfeit. None of your associates are permitted to stay. You will remain incarcerated until the next jump, at which time you will be transported to a populated world, never to return.”

  A smile spread across Maarkean’s lips. Things were looking up. Without them having to make much of an argument, the Fox had sided with them. They might make it out of here in one piece.

  He regretted the thought as soon as it occurred to him. The Fox turned toward their cell again. “Gu’od Dos’redna, for assaulting another visitor to this ship, you are forever banned. You must leave immediately. Major Maarkean Ocaitchi of the ship Cutty Sark, as the one who brought Mr. Dos’redna aboard, you are also liable.

  “Normally, this would result in a warning since he has been here before. However, because of your recent rise to fame as the most wanted man in the Alliance, you will also be banned. Likewise, this ban will extend to your sister and to you as well, Corporal Dustlighter. My visitors have no wish to have that kind of Alliance attention drawn to them.

  “It is also likely that a reward for your capture will soon be issued. That would likely result in many people competing to take you in, which would disturb the peaceful business onboard.”

  Maarkean’s heart sank. The Black Market was home to a lot of disreputable people, but it was also the safest place in the galaxy for them. The Fox kept things in line onboard, and its place in deep space kept the Alliance from finding them. It was also the best place to find a buyer for the stuff they had stolen on Dantyne, now that Josserand was out of the picture.

  “However, Gamaly Dos’redna, Lahkaba and Lohcja Cargon will be permitted to return, if they do so on their own,” the Fox continued. “Now, as a citizen of this sector, I applaud your actions. You will not be welcome here again, but there is a visitor to this ship you may want to meet. I will have this individual shown to your ship before you depart.”

  Of all the things he had expected to hear, that had not been one of them. Maarkean was still puzzling over the comment when the monitor went out. A second later, the cell door slid open, and the two guards beckoned for them to depart. Gamaly, Zeric and Gu’od bolted out of the cell without a moment’s hesitation.

  Maarkean followed last. Who was the Fox sending to him and why? He had gone to Dantyne because he had felt he had no choice. Now he was being sent toward someone else who might want him to do more of the same.

  As Maarkean walked toward the brig exit, Josserand spoke to him. “You have won this round, Ocaitchi. But don’t for a minute think I’m finished. This will only be a setback for me. I assure you, we’ll meet again.”

  Maarkean’s first inclination was to say something harsh, but he suppressed it. There was nothing Josserand could do to him now, and if he gave into his desire, he might not actually make it off the ship. It was difficult, but he managed to make it out of the room without responding.

  On the walk back toward the hangar deck, Maarkean thought over what had occurred. They were still essentially out of funds. They had a cargo hold full of Alliance gear they couldn’t sell.

  Their only prospect was this mystery person the Fox was sending them. He was sure he wasn’t going to like what he was going to hear from this person, but it seemed he had little choice but to listen.

  Catching up with the others, Zeric turned to him. “That was some luck we got back there. Getting kicked off the ship isn’t the worst thing that could have happened.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Maarkean agreed.

  “And we may even have more work waiting for us,” Gamaly said cheerfully.

  “Maybe,” Maarkean said noncommittally.

  The rest of the way, the other three speculated about what the Fox had meant and who was going to meet with them.

  Maarkean silently debated whether they should take off before this person showed up. That way, he couldn’t get sucked into anything else.

  When they reached the ship, Maarkean noticed a small knot of people standing at the bottom of the ramp. Saracasi, Lohcja and Lahkaba were standing on the ramp slightly above the others. The group consisted of a Terran, a Braz, a Liw’kel and a Notha.

  The Notha, who was tall for his species, with light brown fur, turned toward them, and Zeric said, surprised, “Isaxo?”

  Maarkean recognized the name but could not recall from where. He took a harder look at the others the Notha was with. The Terran was a tall man with dark skin and a shaved head.

  He was definitely the eldest amongst the group, about Maarkean’s age. His clothes were well maintained and of a higher caliber than those of most people on the Black Market.

  The Liw’kel female was the oddest Liw�
�kel he had ever seen. Her face was a light shade of red and uncommonly beautiful, aside from a small scar across her left cheek.

  She wore a collection of random armor pieces that covered most of the rest of her body and hid any feminine features.

  She had a sling strung across her back that could have held any number of large weapons, several slots for knives on her belt, a bandolier with grenade-size pouches and the holster for a carbine slung to her hip.

  Even though she wasn’t actually armed, she was by far the scariest Liw’kel Maarkean had ever seen.

  The Braz was a young male wearing a dark blue ship’s jumpsuit. He had two pistol holsters on his hips and two more holsters strung across his back.

  The casual way he rested his hands where the weapons should have been suggested he was used to having them. The green screfa on the boy’s cheek identified him as clan Lis. Maarkean suppressed a sigh. He only knew one other from the Lis clan, and he hoped this boy was not as annoying.

  As they got closer, the Notha, Isaxo, smiled at them. “Zeric, good to see you again.”

  “What are you doing here?” Zeric asked incredulously.

  “Looking for you,” Isaxo said with a grin. “Lei-mey is going to be very happy.”

  So much for not getting sucked back in, Maarkean thought.

  Cramming all eleven people into the crew lounge onboard the Cutty Sark was difficult. Maarkean had insisted on moving off the busy hangar, and Saracasi admitted to herself it was much easier to hear without all the noise. Once everyone was settled, Isaxo began by introducing his companion; the Terran was known as Solyss Novastar, the Liw’kel was Asheerah Aru and the Braz was Kard Ulis.

  Zeric made the formal introductions of everyone else. When Maarkean and Zeric were introduced, Novastar gave them a respectful bow. “Captain Solyss Novastar at your service, sirs. Your actions on Sulas have inspired me.”

  Maarkean looked uncomfortable at the proclamation, but he gave Novastar a half smile and nodded back to him. Zeric looked pleased with himself and a little surprised to be included. Up until now, most people they had encountered had heard of Maarkean from the news reports and warnings the Alliance had put out. Saracasi had no idea why Zeric would be happy to be recognized in the same way.

  “After you left Irod, it wasn’t but a few days before Captain Novastar arrived with a shipment of supplies,” Isaxo began. “His ship, the Chimopori, didn’t have a lot of room for passengers, but Lei-mey convinced him to take a few of us back to Sulas.”

  “And with only a promise of payment once we arrived,” Novastar said with a smile. “An immensely persuasive woman.”

  “Lei-mey selected a couple of us who were from colonies other than Sulas to go with her. At the time I didn’t understand why she wouldn’t take people home instead, but I didn’t argue,” Isaxo continued. “Once on Sulas, she asked each of us to travel back to our homes and speak to our local governments about what had happened to us on Sulas.

  “Captain Novastar volunteered to fly me to Dantyne. Apparently, when we got there, we had just missed you. When I met with my brother, Owrik, he told me what you had done to the Alliance base. I only wish I could have been there to help.”

  Lei-mey sent people out to every colony world? Saracasi thought. When she had heard the news about the crackdowns on Sulas, she had been half convinced that Lei-mey had gotten back to Sulas and carried out her plan to stage a rebellion and been overwhelmed by the Alliance. The news that she was sending people to all of the other colonies suggested something else.

  “Owrik brought me before the Dantyne Parliament, and I told them what had happened to me and La’ari. Most of them were outraged by that, but a lot of them were also outraged by what you had done to the Alliance base. They seemed afraid the Alliance would open a prison like Olan,” Isaxo said. Uncertainly, he went on, “I don’t understand why they objected to that. You were showing the Alliance they can’t push us around anymore.”

  It became obvious as Isaxo talked that he was mostly speaking to Maarkean and Zeric. None of the others appeared to be bothered by this fact except for Maarkean. The next comment from Novastar made her brother look even more uncomfortable, as it directed everyone’s attention to him.

  “I’ve never considered myself much for politics, though I’ll admit the trade restrictions the Alliance has in place have provided me with a fair bit of profit bypassing them. But after hearing what Isaxo endured just because he was a Notha and then learning about how this injustice motivated you to turn on the Alliance, I came to realize I was just as responsible for what happened to him by not doing anything about it. We Novastars have always been at the forefront of a fight against oppression, dating all the way back to the Kravic Occupation.”

  Maarkean looked embarrassed. This didn’t surprise Saracasi; he had never much liked being the center of attention. Ever since Sulas, he had drawn more and more attention toward him, though. She wondered if that had occurred to him before now.

  “After we met with the parliament, I decided to come and seek you out. We got lucky when we got a message saying we could find you here,” Novastar continued. “When he heard what my plans were, Isaxo asked to come along. He’d proved himself to be a pretty capable pilot – better than myself, in truth – so I took him along. So here we are. Ready to help you on your next mission.”

  Looking at her brother, Saracasi decided this had not been something Maarkean had anticipated. She sighed inwardly. Despite all his talk about needing to think carefully before you acted, he obviously had not thought this one all the way through. Though she decided she couldn’t use it against him the next time he chided her for rash action.

  “I’m afraid our next action won’t be very exciting,” Lahkaba said and then turned toward Maarkean. “While you all were out, I caught up on the news feeds. The Kreogh Sector Congress has been recalled.”

  This news piqued Saracasi’s interest. If the Congress was being recalled, then one of two things had occurred: either the Alliance had responded to their earlier message, or people like Isaxo who Lei-mey had sent out had had an impact on the leaders of their colonies.

  “Where are they meeting?” Maarkean asked.

  “Enro,” Lahkaba answered. “City of Perth. The news article is intentionally vague as far as when and where they will be meeting, for security reasons. But the Enro delegation offered the city for the next meeting. I don’t know when, exactly, but I should get there.”

  “Then that’s where we’re going,” Maarkean said definitively. Then, turning toward Novastar, he said, “I’m afraid this probably won’t be the fight you were looking for. This meeting could take a while.”

  Novastar shrugged. “We’re not out for adventure. We have decided to follow you to make a stand. The Congress is one way to do that. We will continue with our original purpose for coming here and meet you there later.”

  Maarkean looked perplexed, but he nodded. “Very well. All right, well, let’s go before they kick us off.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The journey to Enro took less than a week, but Maarkean had to watch their fuel status closely. Their reserves were falling dangerously low. He worried they might not be able to go anywhere after Enro if they couldn’t refuel. If anything happened that prevented an on-time landing, they might get stranded on the planet.

  Before arriving, Maarkean sought out Lahkaba to discuss an idea he had about the Alliance equipment they had on-board. The SPC in the hangar bay did not make it fuel efficient to break out of a planet’s gravity well. With their funds depleted, the SPC was also their only potential source of income.

  He found Lahkaba and Saracasi talking while Saracasi ran a diagnostic in the engine room. When he entered, she was asking, “Do you think the Congress will take a stronger stand this time?”

  “Possibly,” Lahkaba said. “The fact that we are meeting now suggests something has changed. The other colonies may be willing to listen to our proposal for a complete hold on Alliance taxes until the gover
nment gives each colony equal representation in Congress, or at least closes down all of the prisons.”

  “Do you think that will be enough?” Saracasi asked.

  “It will have to be. We could close down the prisons with force, but that will probably lead to military retaliation like it has on Sulas. I doubt the other colonies will be willing to risk that.”

  “Wasn’t that the reason you came with us in the first place? To do things like what we did on Sulas and Dantyne?” Maarkean asked from the entryway.

  Startled by his sudden appearance, Lahkaba and Saracasi turned toward him.

  Lahkaba said, “It was. Since the news from Sulas and the occupation of Ba’aar and Chuthor, I’ve had to rethink it. I still think attacking Olan was more than justified. But, at the same time, we put a lot of innocent people at risk. That was never my intention.”

  Maarkean considered Lahkaba’s words. It had certainly not been his intention when he had conceived of the idea. In truth, he had never even considered that as a possible consequence.

  Their death, capture or becoming wanted as criminals had been the only possibilities he had considered.

  “On the other hand,” Maarkean replied thoughtfully, “our actions have affected a lot of people positively as well. There are more people in those two cities than were in the prison, to be sure, but the occupation will hardly amount to more than an inconvenience. Those in the prison were being imprisoned unjustly. In the grand balance, doesn’t that make it worthwhile?”

  “True,” Lahkaba said simply. He paused, considering what Maarkean had said.

  Maarkean was dismayed when he realized he had said that last thought out loud. He hadn’t really wanted to defend what they had done.

  Despite what he had just said, he still thought what they had done was wrong. They had killed innocent Alliance officers. There was no forgiving that.