Contents
Title
Disclaimer
Part I
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Part II
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Part III
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Links
The Pirate Guild
Steven J Shelley
Copyright © 2017 Blue Orchid Books
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual places is purely coincidental.
Not recommended for younger readers.
PART I
1
Even by galaxy standards, Sandflower Downs was a dump. It consisted of a single street spawning several goat tracks that wound their way through low, dusty mounds scattered with garbage. The most common dwelling was the humble tin shack. The inhabitants were poor, dirt poor. There were no jobs, no prospects. The shadow of murder loomed every day but the local authorities were powerless to suppress a toxic culture of crime. After all, resources were stretched thin right across the planet.
According to the Intergalactic Financial Review, Abeya was one of the ‘least desirable planets’ in the Andromeda sector. The dust bowl simply had nothing to offer - no resources, no technology, no local attractions. The Empire had colonized the yellow Class C planet in the hope of one day establishing a training facility for space marines. The military school never got off the ground, leaving a desperate population of vagrants, hustlers and scumbags. If such a thing were indeed possible, Sandflower Downs was low in Abeya’s food chain. Essentially, it was a garbage storage facility with a hundred shacks clinging to it like a tumor. Pedro Cavar was the only remotely wealthy man in town. He ran the garbage disposal compound and kept a reasonably tidy white stucco mansion there. The rest of Sandflower kicked and fought for whatever scraps came their way. If you couldn’t get a gig as one of Pedro’s bodyguards or servants, you were really nowhere.
Charley Walker fitted perfectly into that category. She lived on the edge of town with her six brothers and her mother. Today, she was more frustrated than usual as she kicked rocks on the dusty track that weaved through her neighbors’ huts. The problem was her useless whore of a mother. The lice-ridden bitch had a system. She sent her children out at the crack of dawn, every day, to earn themselves a roof over their heads that night. She didn’t care how they acquired their credit bits - they simply needed to do it or they were out in the cold. And when the blistering sun abandoned the land, it got cold in Sandflower Downs.
Dusk was settling in and Charley could see the winking purple lights of Pedro’s satellite array. Oh, how she wished she had access to the fat man’s television and virtual reality games! Cold beer and billiards! She often gazed wistfully through the electric fence and wished she was on the other side. Occasionally she would stay long enough for a bodyguard to tell her to fuck off. She would usually scamper away only to return later, but lately she had the feeling she was getting too old for idle fantasies. Only last week she’d turned eighteen, not that anyone had celebrated with her. Her mother had punched her in the face and increased the amount she was expected to scavenge. There are mountains of credits out there if you know where to look, girl. Charley only saw mountains of garbage. A flat, impossibly dry salt pan. A distant mountain range where it was said sand people lived. But that was surely a myth.
Charley hesitated as she reached the worn path that lead to her family’s shack. She didn’t have any credits to show for her day’s work. In the morning she’d scored two bits from a fresh corpse over by the old gas station but Phil Horley’s gang had stripped it off her. She’d been lucky to get away without a good beating. In Sandflower Downs it was best if you were part of a gang. Most of her brothers had found packs to run with, but none had ever asked Charley to join. Which was fine, because she wanted to make her own way. The problem with gangs was that the loot needed to be shared. She was a smart girl, or so she liked to tell herself. Sure, gangs offered protection, but one day Charley would be in a position to buy her own protection. Hopefully it was more than just a pipe dream. It was easy to lose faith, especially when all she had was her dusty shift.
Charley rapped on the door - her mother always insisted on that. A blistered, ruddy face appeared in the crack.
“Well?” Loja Walker barked. “How many credits today?”
Charley almost smiled at her mother. The thirty-four year old might’ve been pretty once, but years in the shit hole that was Sandflower Downs had worn her down. She wore a grimy apron and her figure had really blown out. Still, there were traces of beauty in those high cheekbones and green eyes. Truth be told, Charley was sorry she had to endure a life of such squalor. There weren’t many rich folks on Abeya and they certainly weren’t anywhere nearby.
“Found a nice stash,” Charley lied.
Loja’s eyes gleamed. The prospect of money always soothed her. “Come in, daughter.”
2
Charley was glad to finally find shade after another day out on the flats. She stepped into the hovel and saw that her brothers had also returned. Hodge was the oldest, grizzled and experienced. Then came Bruce, Trink, Rev, Doce and Sarge. Sarge wasn’t much older than Charley. He earned his nickname from constantly dreaming about joining the Abeya Navy. Like that was gonna happen.
“Sis,” Doce rumbled as he made way for Charley at the table. Her huge, bear-like brother was about to dole some gruel from the pot when a hand closed around his wrist - it was Loja, her fiery eyes locked on Charley.
“Like you said, you found a stash today,” she said. “Feel like adding it to the pile? Paying for dinner?”
A hush fell over the table as Charley climbed tiredly to her feet and walked over to the little table where her brother had deposited their takings. Her hand trembled in anticipation of what she was about to do. Her friend Stevie had once showed her a sleight of hand trick that gave the illusion of depositing something. H
eart in her mouth, she “janked” a credit tube already on the table. It was a desperate, nervous attempt at fooling her mom and it wasn’t gonna wash. Not at all. With mounting dread, Charley looked at Loja. There was hard anger in those eyes. Anger and resignation. Charley didn’t like that second element. It meant that Loja had finally given up on her.
“Sons,” the matriarch announced, turning to her boys. “I run a tight ship and you all know the rules. I never said life would be easy here. But we manage. I built this place on the back of extreme pain and humiliation. I built this place so we could all have a place to survive. But none of it works when you don’t pay your way. This place is all about paying your own way. If you can’t do that, you’re worse than useless. You’re dead. And as we all know, the smell of a corpse is infectious. It brings us all down.”
Trembling with rage, Loja turned to face her one and only daughter.
“If this was the first time, I might’ve given you a week,” she snarled. “But we both know it isn’t. You’ve been letting us all down for a year now. If your incompetence was the only issue, I might’ve been able to find enough goodness in my heart to forgive you. But you aren’t honest with me. You play games. You look to deceive. I can’t read you and I don’t like it. For trying to trick me, you’re out for good. Don’t come back.”
The words slapped Charley hard. She knew her mother was stressed, but this was out of control. Loja was seeing a new lover, one of Pedro’s men. Maybe that slimeball was getting into her ear about all the mouths she had to feed. Who knew what was going through her mind? Charley was a full-grown woman now. A feisty character who spoke her mind. Maybe Loja was threatened? Whatever the case, Charley was determined not to cry in front of her brothers. Especially not in front of Loja. She left with as much dignity as she could muster, closing the door lightly behind her.
All she could do was pick her way down the twisting path past the neighboring shanties and up the small hill that overlooked the town. She sat in the chilly dusk and watched Abeya’s twin moons sitting low in the horizon. Framed by a pink sky, one of the orbs was passing behind the other. The dusk sky was more beautiful than Charley had seen for quite a while. Abeya wasn’t known for much, but its night skies were generally regarded as superb. She might’ve enjoyed the moment if she wasn’t so distraught. Kicked out by her own mother! Disowned. Rejected. How had things come to this? True, she wasn’t a great scrounger. But what did Loja expect? She wasn’t as big or strong as her brothers, nor as fast or as slippery. She wasn’t a great thief. Her best asset was a reasonable command of language but folks in Sandflower Downs didn’t resolve their problems through flowery talk. The obvious way of making money was to sell her body. Tracking through the arid wastes every day kept her in excellent shape. Her hair was sun-kissed and she’d been told she was nice to look at. Despite all that, the thought of opening her legs to the lowlife apes in this town made her want to wretch. And yet things had changed now. Charley’s last lifeline had been taken away. Loja was practically forcing her to become a two-bit whore. Had that been her plan all along? Someone like Charley could turn a nice credit or two servicing caravans of water carriers and tarbor herders.
A grunt came wafting over the low mounds. It faded quickly, but Charley thought she knew that sound. Curious, she slipped back along the winding path and crept up to Loja’s hovel. The place she was no longer welcome. She heard the sound again, louder this time. Crouching low, she crept round the side of the hut, thankful for the darkness closing in on all sides. Through a side window she looked into Loja’s bedroom. Her mother was lying with a thick-set man. She’d clearly just pleasured the creep and was now moving in to cuddle him. The rest of the hovel was silent - Loja insisted on switching off all the gas lamps once dinner was finished. Her brothers would be packed like sardines into the other bedroom and were probably fast asleep after a hard day’s scrounging.
Unsure of herself, Charley took a step back from the window. She sat near a pile of greasy garbage at the side of the hut. The cold had set in and she shivered uncontrollably. Her linen shift was woefully inadequate for the night. She sat in filth for what seemed like an eternity, crying silent tears that her own mother could reduce her to this. Unable to remain still any longer, she took another look through the window. Loja looked fast asleep on the far side of the bed. The man was awake and playing with his wrist pad on the end of the bed. What Charley would give for one of those! Rumor had it those things could organize one’s life. They had maps, they had scanners, they had the goddam Nex! News, entertainments, games, reference data. Massively expensive on Abeya. Only folks with regular, steady incomes could maintain the subscription fees. Which was less than 1% of the population. This guy must’ve been high in Pedro’s chain of command, perhaps even second in charge.
Charley studied the bloated fool with interest. He was dark, swarthy and generally repellent. Hawk tattoos trailed down his arm. Thick, powerful legs and what seemed to be a fairly sizable manhood. Before she knew what she was doing, Charley tapped on the dirty glass. The man looked up sharply, saw her, grinned. What a fucking creep.
3
Still smiling like a wolf, the man opened the window and leaned on it casually.
“A little cold?” he asked. “Loja mentioned something about losing a daughter today.”
Charley felt like punching him in the nuts. Instead, she did the next best thing and thrust out her hand.
“Name’s Charley,” she said brightly. “Can you let me in for a while?”
The slimeball looked Charley up and down, checking out the goods. Shivering in the cold, she felt self-conscious and vulnerable.
“Sure,” the man eventually said. “Name’s Matheson.”
Desperate for warmth, Charley climbed in hungrily. She closed the window behind her and sat against the wall. Matheson considered the sleeping Loja with sickening calculation. It was obvious what he was thinking. In his tiny mind he’d just done her a favor, so now it was time for payment. Charley looked at the man coolly. What else could she do? If she stayed outside she’d be half dead in the morning. If she rejected this fool and made for her own bed, Loja would enter the equation. Charley was still intensely angry with her mother and refused to give the bitch the satisfaction of rejecting her a second time. She had no option but to play this game. Telling herself it was a matter of survival, Charley stood and pressed herself against Matheson’s hairy chest. She traced a finger through the thick hair there, looking up at him with wide, hungry eyes. He hardened immediately. She raised both arms so he could lift her shift over her head. Removing her bra slowly, she stepped back so he could get a good look at her. Her breasts bounced free, just visible in the faint afterglow of the gas lamp. Loja stirred but did not wake. Charley pushed Matheson to the bed and pulled her underpants down. He gripped her buttocks as she straddled him. She rode him with controlled fury until he was finished. Which wasn’t long. Loja stirred and rolled over, her arm lazily reaching out for her lover. Grinning stupidly, Matheson climbed next to her and waved for Charley to get the fuck out. Frowning, Charley dressed and climbed back through the window.
Only this time she was carrying Matheson’s wrist pad.
She scurried over the cold mounds, not stopping till she was on the edge of town. Finally, a lucky break. A catalyst that might smash her misery loop for good. Sitting on a small rise and blissfully unaware of the biting cold, she tried to activate her treasure. It asked for Matheson’s DNA signature. Furious, Charley the tossed the thing to the ground and stomped on it till it cracked. So many of the best things in life were locked away. It made her sick. What would she have to do to become a decent thief? Feeling the cold once again, she despaired that she would never get anywhere. There was nothing, nothing in her pockets. Homeless and pathetic, like most of the scum on Abeya. Homeless folk either went crazy or died. That much was known.
Playing with the activation light on the wrist band, Charley wiled away the early hours of the morning underneath a sheet of curl
ed tin. At length a pink tinge finally spread across the horizon. Sandflower Downs slowly came alive and shadowy figures could be seen in the filthy streets. A chamber pot was emptied barely yards away from where Charley cowered. The sun peered over the horizon and the night chill dissipated. Wrinkling her nose at the smell of feces, Charley wandered through the mounds, wondering what the day would bring. There was no chance of returning to the fold. That fool Matheson was bound to have told Loja what had happened, if only to get his wrist pad back. She was officially homeless. She’d be selling her body in no time if last night was any indication. No. That’s not how things were going to be. She was so much more than a decrepit street urchin and she intended to let the whole fucking town know about it.
Most of the figures in the streets and narrow trails were familiar to Charley. Her brothers were already at work, either meeting with gang members to lay down their strategies of the day or moving silently on their own, relying on stealth and thievery to make their daily quota of credits. Doce and Trink were both skilled thieves and usually remained unseen until they saw something worth stealing. As for the gangs, they usually prowled the edges of town, eyes scanning the hazy horizon for travelers. It was that or scavenge the wrecked star liner in the dead wastes to the east of town. That particular hulk had been worked over for decades. Almost all the salvage had been looted but every now and again a crew got lucky with a fresh cache. The star liner was a creepy place, filled with the decaying corpses of all the passengers who’d died in the crash. Legend had it that the vessel had been attacked by pirates. The hold was a dangerous place for a lone scavenger. A team was usually needed to help with ropes and hand boosts. All up, the star liner was far too advanced for someone like Charley. Her best and only option was to find a cool, shaded hole and wait for an opportunity. Of course, credits were invariably earned through brute strength and violence. If Charley wanted to avoid becoming a cheap whore for Pedro Cavar’s garbage men, she needed to think quickly. She knew a hovel that was relatively quiet during the day. A place she could crawl under and watch the main street in relative security. She found her secret place, doing her best to ignore a scorpion’s nest.
The Pirate Guild Page 1
