The Pirate Guild

by Steven J Shelley

  At length a big, swarthy woman appeared brandishing a syringe. Before Charley could protest, the needle was halfway through her thigh.

  “First time, darlin’?” the tech asked in a gravelly voice. “You’re gonna looove Danderly.”

  “I hope so,” Charley managed to breathe.

  And with that, everything went black.

  Charley woke with a throbbing headache but her first, more pleasant thought was that she had finally escaped Abeya. The feeling was so blissful that she forgot the pain flowing through her body in slow, inexorable waves. The smell of her own vomit was intense. Warp drugs were supposed to slow the body’s systems down, but they weren’t always successful in preventing the digestive system from functioning. Charley could feel FIGJAM stirring at her waist.

  “Before you say anything,” she warned. “Think about whether you want to live.”

  “Wasn’t gonna say anything about the terrible, terrible smell,” the robot replied.

  Charley unstrapped herself and stumbled a few steps. It took a full minute for her body to remember how to walk and she found an open shower bay around the corner. She stowed her gear to one side, stripped down and luxuriated in a jet of hot water. She turned FIGJAM to the wall but the little fucker turned around slowly, covertly.

  “Pervert,” she said, toweling herself down with her old shift and washing her utility suit under the shower jet. Fully geared up again, she headed to a grubby observation pane where she saw a blanket of stars.

  “Nice ride, eh?” asked the warp tech from behind her.

  Charley blinked. She hadn’t traveled enough to disagree, so she nodded.

  “Come to the bridge,” the tech said. “Danderly always looks nice on approach.”

  Charley dutifully followed the tech to the bridge, where she positioned herself at Captain Tyran’s shoulder. The view wasn’t just nice, it was majestic. Danderly, a class AA planet, was dusky brown and strafed with high cloud. The elegant off-world complex off to starboard could only have been the Galactic Academy. A classically-designed college under a shimmering air dome, it was obvious why it was ranked as a modern wonder of the Empire. As Charley lost herself in its blinking lights, she was more determined than ever to reach Silverton’s old pirate friend.

  “Got your eyes on a little education, I see,” Tyran murmured as he guided the freighter into a pre-orbital position. “That’ll cost you an arm and a leg.”

  “I suppose it would,” Charley replied. “Except I have no interest in a formal education.”

  “I kinda guessed that,” Tyran said, nodding at her weapons. “Don’t make me regret bringing you here.”

  Charley realized she had the distinct look of a troublemaker. The svelte, aggressive suit. The twin blasters. The scimitar. An AI hooked into her belt. She made a mental note to pick up something softer to wear before she hit the Galactic Academy. She and Tyran exchanged bland pleasantries as Fortitude sank into orbit and waited for permission to dock at an industrial port in the southern hemisphere. A bright and prosperous garden planet, Danderly was heavily populated but wealthy enough to import many of its needs. The surface was mostly terrestrial, which had a unique effect on the climate. The lack of ambient humidity made for bitingly cold winters and searingly hot summers. The locals had long-adapted to the two extremes, exploiting the opportunity for rich, diverse fashions. As a result, Danderly was a fashion hot-spot. Its primary call to fame, however, was research. The planet was home to many of the finest human minds. It was also where the Navy housed its Theory Tank, where military tech was formulated and tested.

  Charley’s eyes drank in the unfolding landscape. The Fortitude cruised low over a huge industrial estate before docking at a central terminal. From there, disembarking was a surprisingly simple process. Tyran shook her hand and wished her luck, leaving her standing dockside without so much as a direction to the arrivals lounge. Charley made her way through a terminal crowded with foul-mouthed dock workers and merchantmen.

  “Can you believe we’re actually standing on another planet?” she asked the PalBot.

  “I believe it, hot stuff,” said the robot. “But what I can’t believe is how smokin’ hot you looked under that shower. You could deactivate me right now and my digital erection would last forever. Suck on that thought for a while, bitch-ass.”

  “You need to work on your sweet nothings,” Charley said, slowly getting used to the PalBot’s particular way of passing on a compliment.

  A little overwhelmed, Charley sat down on a bench to think. First off, she was hungry and thirsty. First port of call was a nice, hot meal. She checked her pockets - 79 credits. Enough for a few meals and perhaps one night of budget accommodation. Not enough for a transfer to the Galactic Academy, though the shuttles there might be subsidized in some way. She would need to engage in more trading before she reached that that beautiful domed structure.

  Beyond the terminal gate, the industrial complex seemed to stretch forever. Charley tried to extract more information from Nex but her wrist pad rental had lapsed. That would be another financial outlay. Conceding that she wasn’t likely to stay in a comfortable bed that night, Charley purchased twenty-four hours of wrist pad time and settled down with a bowl of lime and coconut curry while she surfed Nex. She found plenty of information on Danderly’s southern reaches. Her current location was known as the Southern Basin and it specialized in the import of raw materials. Shuttles to the Galactic Academy left every twenty minutes from the far end of the dock estate. If she eschewed a hotel and rode her fatigue, Charley had just enough cash for a one-way ticket. She had no idea what she’d do once she found her contact, but something told her that things would work out. Either that or she’d be deported back to Sandflower Downs. The thought made her sick inside.

  20

  The Academy shuttle was a cream-colored cog with a comfortable interior. Charley took a seat near the back, arranging her possessions and glad to travel in a little more style. The best thing about the shuttle was the transparent underhull. As soon as the CabinBot had done its rounds, a soothing chime sounded and the captain addressed the dozen or so passengers.

  “Conditions are fairly clear out there, folks. ETA at the Academy Dock is 0732 local time.”

  Charley adjusted her wrist pad - she’d been in warp space for so long she hadn’t yet adjusted to Danderly’s day cycle. She felt a stab of excitement as the shuttle’s prop bulbs fired and the vessel soared along its catapult track. The launch mechanism slung the craft into the orange dusk sky. Charley marveled at the gorgeous sundown over this serene, hazy land. Rugged country was visible beyond the port, where flocks of long-legged birds milled over a sapphire lake. She would have liked to explore Danderly a little, but there were pressing matters at hand.

  The shuttle soared into the mesosphere and Charley delighted in the kaleidoscopic halo generated by the atmospheric disturbance. The flare transformed into a crackling orange fire, but only briefly, and then the vessel was surrounded by the ghostly silence of space. The Academy dome was visible over Danderly’s svelte curve. The shuttle approached with surprising speed, zeroing in on a rectangular opening in the dome. Charley hadn’t noticed it before, but concluded it was a portal for regular visitors. The shuttle descended gracefully, adjusting for the introduction of human-spectrum gravity under the dome. She drank in the solemn beauty of the grounds. Ivy-covered walls, heavily manicured grounds, students meeting each other to study or discuss the events of the day. Charley was amazed by the vegetation, noticing the UV reflector tech lining the buttresses of nearly every building. The architecture was classical but with a sleek, modern touch. It gave an impression of both beauty and practicality. It made her want to sign up for a course as soon as humanly possible, if only she could afford it. The Galactic Academy catered only for the very rich. The elite. Scholarships had been eradicated long ago. Academic merit meant nothing here - it was all about fat credit lines. Luckily, Charley hadn’t come to study. Checking the time, she resolved to find t
his Harry Teks character quickly. She had no idea what she actually wanted from him, but instinct told her that the seed of her pirating career was here, somewhere under the dome.

  The shuttle docked into the same rail and catapult system that had launched it from Danderly. Charley alighted onto a pleasant walkway that threaded its way through a fern garden. She found herself in an open, grassy area outside the imposing facade of the Academy’s admissions building. She located a staff finder inside the cool interior and entered Harry’s name. A hologram pulsed down one of the branching corridors. Heart in her mouth, Charley followed it. The Academy’s AI led her through a network of dark, pokey corridors until she reached a quadrangle filled with chatting students. Where she was slightly lined by exposure to the sun and wind of Abeya, these folk could have adorned any fashion blog. Yes, many had been modded and scaped, but such procedures were seamless these days. If you had the money, there was no reason why you couldn’t look twenty-two and without a care in the world.

  Charley tore her bittersweet gaze away from the students and concentrated on the magenta line that would lead her to her prey. She entered another building and rode a drop shaft several levels. The line terminated at the door to a cavernous lecture theater. Charley took a discreet seat at the back. A professor behind the lectern was expanding on the ramifications of the latest trade tariffs on wheat systems. The topic was as dry as the salt pans of Abeya and Charley found herself losing interest very quickly. The academic unit was listed on a lightscreen - Interstellar Mercantile. Worlds apart from front line pirating, but then that would never be accepted as a legitimate study topic.

  Charley studied the professor with interest. Though he tended to drone on, he was certainly good looking for a man over fifty. Thick with a grizzled beard, his jaw was strong. His eyes were almond-shaped pits of intensity. Last but not least, he carried himself like a military man. In fact, there was something dangerous about him. Something the Academy would never tame. Charley’s suspicions were confirmed when a student referred to him as Professor Teks. This was the man. Charley felt nervous all of a sudden. Despite the dull topic, Harry had such a commanding presence. She didn’t quite feel ready to approach him after the lecture, so she decided to wait for him at his office. The staff finding technology provided another helpful magenta line for her to follow. This time she only needed to travel two floors down. At the professor’s door she browsed her wrist pad, looking up Nex entries on pirate history. Followed by a gaggle of students desperate for a moment of his time, Harry appeared within ten minutes. His eyes flashed when he saw Charley standing by the door, drinking in her weapons and her altogether rougher look.

  “Have we met, Miss …”

  “Silverton,” Charley said.

  It was a gamble to mention the name straight away, but it appeared to pay off. Professor Teks’s eyes widened.

  “You’d better come in,” he said with a wink, ushering her into a comfortable wood-paneled office. A cosy fire spat in the corner. Harry shut and locked the door. Stoking the fire with his back turned, he addressed Charley with a nostalgic tone.

  “You could only be his daughter, turning up dressed like that.”

  “You know your pirates,” Charley ventured. “He told me I should come see you.”

  “Did he now?”

  Harry turned and regarded her with smoldering eyes. The old fox was truly a powerful force. Charley got a glimpse of frightening tattoos under the sleeves of his neat suit. This guy had killed and killed often in a previous life.

  “That was a long time ago,” he continued. Charley felt physically bound by his unnerving gaze.

  “I guess you could say I’m at a crossroads,” was all she could say. She’d expected Harry to lead the way. Take the initiative.

  “Why are you here, girl?”

  The professor’s tone was both seductive and condescending. Helpless, Charley shrugged.

  “Do you have the merest concept of what it takes to be a pirate?” he asked with gravity, letting the words crawl from his mouth like scorpions.

  The Professor held his hands behind his back and stood tall while he watched Charley flounder around for an answer. He took deliberate steps across the polished floorboards until he was standing directly behind her. She wanted desperately to turn around, sensing a vague threat, but she refused to give Harry the satisfaction. He might have been treating her like a child, but that didn’t mean she would cower before his eyes.

  “I know very little,” Charley admitted. Honesty was her only way of making the best of the situation. “That’s why I’m here, Harry.”

  She hoped the use of the Professor’s first name might help her cause. Instead, Harry placed his hands on her shoulders. The pressure was light, almost non-existent. Charley felt a tingle run down her spine.

  “A pirate isn’t made,” came a soft whisper in her right ear. “It’s in the blood.”

  Harry’s hands increased their pressure until he was essentially squeezing Charley’s shoulders. The sensation was strangely mesmerizing. Not unpleasant at all.

  “On the surface of it,” came that purring voice in the other ear now, “the difference between a bandit and a pirate is a subtle one. But it’s everything. Everything.”

  Harry’s hands inched their way down Charley’s back, relishing the curve of her spine, the steep depression just above her buttocks.

  “A bandit lives to survive. A pirate survives to live. A bandit is addicted to taking what he needs from others. A pirate is addicted to exploring the galaxy. If he could be free without cost, he would be. He steals from the rich so he can be truly, blissfully free. Do you have a pirate in you, Silverton?”

  Harry’s calloused hand appeared at Charley’s front zipper, bringing it down to her navel. She realized she hadn’t had a chance to replace the underwear she lost on the cargo freighter. His right hand pushed aside the left lapel. It resisted for a moment, then slid over her nipple, exposing her breast. He pulled the other lapel aside and that breast bounced free too. Charley shut her eyes as the older man held her breasts from behind, massaging them gently. She lost count of the seconds they both stood there. The Professor hardened as he pressed himself into her. Eventually she couldn’t stand still any longer. She turned to face him, allowing him to massage her from the front. Their lips inevitably met. The older man was experienced, that was for sure. His tongue was dexterous and sensual as it explored her mouth. He sucked on her lips and buried his face in her neck. More tingles ran down her spine and between her legs. She couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening but she liked it.

  Then Harry took a step back to admire her. Charley peeled her utility suit free and stepped out of it. Harry’s eyes flicked lower and his breath quickened. Drawing him closer, she ran a hand over the bulge between his legs. The older man removed his hand from her breasts and fumbled at his own suit. Within seconds he was standing naked before Charley. Fine shape for a man his age. Bronzed, taut skin, few signs of aging. Life as a pirate had been good for his soul. She drew him in, both hands on his manhood. He gasped as she gave it some special attention. At length he gently pushed her away before dropping to his knees. Charley sighed as his tongue did some exploring of its own. She’d never had someone so skilled in that area. Steadily, inexorably, she moved closer to the edge. Just when it seemed she was about to tip over, Harry withdrew and pushed her gently against his ancient bluewood desk. She lay back with blissful anticipation, then he was on top of her. Inside her. He was rock hard. She could feel his intense heat colliding with hers. He began slowly, but firmly, his eyes never leaving hers. Charley gripped the edge of the desk, knowing she was already gone. The older man built the momentum, his hands on her breasts for support. He pulsed in and out with relentless power. Charley arched her back and gasped, her entire body throbbing with release. Harry let himself go at the same time, almost crying out with sheer pleasure. At length their bodies seem to sag into each other. Breathing hard, Harry finally withdrew, giving Charley one last r
espectful kiss on the nape of her neck.

  She took a few moments to savor the aftermath. Her body shook a little more and she let the ripples wash over her. Finally she stood and set about stepping into her tight utility suit again. Harry Teks sat naked behind his desk, lit a hatake dart and blew the dark green smoke across the office. The musky smell seemed appropriate. Charley accepted one for herself and the pair smoked in companionable silence for several perfect minutes.

  “Thank you,” said Harry said at length. “I think I needed that.”

  21

  Charley smiled.

  “I think I did too,” she replied. “Warp travel does strange things to a woman.”

  “I know what you mean,” Harry said. “It messes with the hormones.”

  Charley looked away, aware of the old pirate’s gaze.

  “Harry,” she said at length. “Why are you here? You should be out there in the black, doing what you’ve always done.”

  Harry sighed. “You’re asking if I sold out,” he said heavily. “I didn’t have a choice. Fucking bandit cartel moved into my regular run. The Beluga Run - one of the most profitable in the galaxy. I couldn’t keep it, Charley. I lost my crew to those thugs. Call themselves the Night Runners. Organized. Ruthless. No respect for the old ways.”

  Charley saw genuine pain in Harry’s eyes.

  “How long have you been at the Academy?” she asked.

  “Two years. The Night Runners have a bounty on my head, but so far they haven’t thought to look here. I’m on borrowed time, Charley. Silverton is too.”

  “He’s dead, Harry,” Charley said. “Tox-stick got him.”

  Harry smiled, but there was no humor in it. He didn’t seem at all surprised.

  “Well, there’s a poetic way to bow out,” he said. “A true pirate, he was. A gentlemen. But it wasn’t enough. I don’t think there’s many of us left.”