Illustrious?
“And you?” Naero asked.
“My friends call me Adrin, but I have very few remaining friends these days, times being what they are. I detest family names. I wish I had no family affiliations, but alas. I am honor bound to do their bidding, and serve their common good.”
“I know how that is, I guess. What business are you in?”
“Oh, a little bit of everything really: ships, smallcraft, computers, terraforming teams, medical supplies. I’m the diversified end of the family–the respectable end.”
“Dealing in ships sounds exciting.”
“Not really, especially after thirty years or more. But the profits are often good, and that keeps the family happy. That allows me to mostly avoid them and go where I please. My ship and I will depart for Epsilon Sextanis-6 later tonight with one of the merchant convoys, to pursue a major transaction.”
That was the fleet’s destination as well. Naero suppressed a nervous shudder.
“Unfortunately the family leaders will also be there. They can be so very annoying.”
“Perhaps we’ll run into you there,” Naero said. “Aunt Sleak might be able to do some business with you. Here’s her call number.” She handed him a com chip.
Adrin took it gladly. “Very good. Warn your aunt about the increased Corsair activity in that area. Several freighters have been lost. Triax increased the naval patrols for show. Nasty business.”
“We’ve heard. Our fleet is well protected,” Naero said. She took a moment to smile and wink at the Matayan Slayer.
“If you harass that fellow enough,” Adrin said, “he might gut you and then claim blood-feud self-defense.”
“In his dreams.”
The older man smiled. “You think you’re that good?”
“Pretty sure. I’ve trained all my life, with better than him.”
Adrin smiled. “Too bad for him then. He appears to hate you quite intensely. He’d love to get at you with his blades.”
“Of course. Matayans hate all Spacers. Feeling’s mutual.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Been that way ever since the Spacer Wars, even with the breaking of the Matayan Cartels.”
He smiled again. “Perhaps things will change one day. I get around in various circles. I’m not so certain the Cartels are as dead and buried as some claim.”
“I know. Corsairs, rebels. Gigacorps keep enough of them around to do their dirty work. We know that. They used to be independent, like Spacers. Now they’re just Corps slaves, and it galls them even more. It wasn’t our fault that their allies absorbed them when they were weak. They blame us; they always blame us.”
“Who was it that weakened their empire so that the Corps could absorb them?”
“Spacers, of course. But they attacked us. They paid the price. We make sure anyone who attacks us pays that price–as high as we can make it. We’ve never desired domination and control of everything like the Corps do. Space is too big. There’s room for everyone to thrive and make credits, and we’ve proven that over and over again.”
“Very admirable.” “Very admirable.” He raised his glass, containing something thick, blue, and cold. “I salute you again. Good luck to you, young lady. Smashingly alluring gown you have on. I’ll say good evening, and...mind the Slayers.”
Naero smiled and shook her head slightly. What a character. She’d have to learn a bit more about Adrin. He seemed harmless enough, but something strange about him attracted her interest. What was it?
“Mistress Naero...”
She slowly turned at the voice.
There stood Baeven, looming over her in full Menkaran evening robes and veil. Menkarans were always huge.
“Good evening,” he added. “You should have taken my advice and waited for me at your ship.”
The Matayan Slayer watched them with renewed interest.
What should she do? Avoid him, or try to get more info out of him?
Because of the general roar of the crowd, she moved closer to Baeven so that they could speak more discreetly.
“Is it true that you’re a traitor to our people, an outcast?”
He didn’t even blink. “The outcast part is at least, but of course there are reasons. Only an outcast can go where I go, do what I do. Shadowforce has been wrong many times. Even the Mystics. No one sees everything clearly. Not even me.” He met her glare. “Our people might owe their very salvation to an outcast when all is done. Remember that, spacechild. I see that your aunt’s opinion of me has changed little. Does she still intend to kill me on sight?”
“Didn’t say so. She’d even be willing to listen to you, but only under secure conditions.”
“Of course.”
“She still hates you.”
“Hate I can deal with and understand.”
“Is it true that you were with Spacer Intel, part of Shadowforce?” Naero asked.
“On occasion.”
“And you trained with the Mystics?”
“Once you begin it, such training never ends,” Baeven said. “It is a lifelong pursuit. You are adept enough for one so young. Perhaps I could recommend you to them.”
“I’ve had some martial training, but I’m not a psyon.”
“Everyone is psyonic to a certain degree. The trick is finding a way to train one’s gifts.”
Naero trembled. Not her. And those who failed at training with the Mystics went mad, or were slain. She did not trust this man, whatever his background, but there was still something about him, something wild and untamed that she instinctively liked.
Baeven had information she wanted.
She’d find a way to get it from him.
“We broke the chip. You said you had more info concerning my parents?”
“Indeed.”
“Let me find Jan and we can–”
“Your brother is somewhat...occupied at the moment with youthful indiscretions. I tried to approach him, but he wasn’t very interested. He’ll be safe enough where he is, for the moment. This really isn’t the place to discuss your family business in any case. We are all about to be in very real danger very shortly. Myself included.”
“What are you talking about? Why did you take a chance on coming here?”
“To warn you. To rescue you if I could. No, don’t look around and give us away.
“Even now, an elite team of terrorists has been allowed to infiltrate Lady Drianne’s yacht, to take her and many Triaxian officials here hostage.
“I said, don’t look about. I’ve made most of them. They’ll strike in minutes if I cannot tip their hand. I tried to get here sooner, but it takes time to fabricate a convincing cover at such short notice.”
Naero laughed and took a sip from her drink again. She pressed a silent buzz signal on her com band.
“I’ll get Aunt Sleak, Zalvano, Jan, and my friends. We’ll head for the shuttles.”
“There isn’t time. And for some reason...you appear to be their primary target. If you rush to leave, that will only arouse suspicion and trigger their actions sooner. At best you can alert Clan Maeris with an onguard signal, as you just did.”
“Then what do I–”
“Let me try a few things. I’m doing my best to disrupt their plans. What is known to only a few is that the terrorists have been infiltrated by Triaxian Intelligence. The attack will fail, but most likely your aunt and her second will be cut down in the confusion. You and most likely your brother will disappear. Never to be seen again.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Indeed. Return to your aunt. Warn her. Two teams–one Triaxian, and one Matayan–will strike during the chaos. They want you alive at all costs, Naero.” He stared at her intently. “But they will kill you if necessary.”
She rested a hand briefly on his arm. “Be careful.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “If I can rattle them enough, Triax Intel will abort their mission and pull back in confusion. When I duck into this pleas
ure chamber, decline to join me. Return to your aunt; you have a few minutes still. Protect her as best you can.”
“What about Jan? And you?”
“I’ll see to your brother’s safety, spacechild. And make sure you disarm the neutron detonator placed on your aunt’s shuttle, if I don’t have a chance to do so on my way out. The rest is up to you and Clan Maeris. Use the confusion to make good your escape.”
“Wait, the shuttle’s set to explode?”
“The Corps always have a back up. It’s S.O.P. Just look after your aunt. Our enemies are quite determined to get her out of the way for some reason.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
Baeven smiled, almost sadly.
“You don’t.” He opened the door to the pleasure chamber, steamy, musky scents of oiled bodies and strange chemicals wafted out. He motioned for her to join him.
Naero shook her head and turned away, trying not to filter back to Aunt Sleak too quickly. Part of her wanted to rush over to protect Jan.
Lady Drianne’s Matayan Slayer just finished listening to his wristcom when she spotted him again.
He ignored Naero completely, charging straight after Baeven.
13
Zalvano spotted Naero making her way through the crowd, excused himself, and met her half way.
He signal-blinked twice, alerting her to be cautious in what she said aloud.
Behind them, Aunt Sleak and Lady Drianne compared numbers on some high-level deal.
Zalvano produced a jeweled trinket and offered it to her. Naero took it with pleasure and hugged him immediately, as she would a favorite uncle.
“Terrorist strike in minutes, set up by Triax Intel,” she told him. “The strike will fail. The real goal is to gun down you and Aunt Sleak, then spirit me and Jan away.”
“Why?”
“Not sure. They think we might have something they want.”
“How many?”
“A dozen or two.”
She pulled away from him. Both of them smiled, straightening their garments. Checking their weapons.
“Where did you–?”
“Our friend of the family.”
“You trust him?”
“We’ll see in minute or two. We need to watch out for Aunt Sleak’s best interests.”
“Don’t worry. She can handle herself. Our people are closing in and the fleet’s on battle stations. We’ll fight our way out if they force us to.”
Naero looked around and spotted Gallan, Saemar, and several other Spacers placed strategically around the room. All appeared to be enjoying the party.
“I hope our friend doesn’t try anything with Jan,” Zalvano said. “This could be a ploy. I have three of our best fighters keeping a close eye on your brother.”
A Triaxian official rushed up to Lady Drianne almost at the same time. The Corps princess paled for a moment and then excused herself quickly from Aunt Sleak’s company.
She touched a few jewels on her comp band, then cupped one hand over the side of her head and listened intently to her ear loop.
Naero and Zalvano moved closer to Aunt Sleak.
Multiple small explosions, blasts of colored smoke, and lightning-like stun charges went off in the room all at once. People dropped. Startled guests cried out in several pockets.
With the general party chaos going on, everything was muffled.
At that exact moment, Drianne’s security teams converged on several individuals–some dressed as servants, others as guests. Many of them already down.
“Death to the Corps. Death to Triax! Long live the People’s Army!” a few zealous voices rang out from several spots. Right before the shouters were stabbed, bludgeoned, or otherwise stunned into submission.
The incident fizzled out, over almost before it began, the remaining conspirators among the servants had quickly dropped through floor panels or been dragged off before the shocked onlookers could even panic.
Yet dozens of key security people had somehow been taken out as well, and not by the terrorists.
Many of the guests cheered the Corps security forces, and then promptly went back to what they were doing. The sheer mass of the crowd kept the security forces from closing in on the Spacers. Lady Drianne presented herself to her guests and the press on hand once more, appearing only slightly flustered.
“My friends. It appears that a handful of rebels, bent on anarchy, had some feeble plot against my life. Of course I’m used to that sort of thing in my position–but what a bother. I’m sorry that I must leave you now, my dear Sleak. But a number of important security matters require my attention at this time. You understand, I’m sure. Pleasure doing business with you again. I look forward to our next meeting. Do stay and enjoy Triax’s hospitality.”
With that, she was gone, surrounded by a growing flurry of guards, aides, and advisors.
“My captain,” Zalvano said. “Let’s get the hell out of here. I’ll brief you once we’re well away.”
Aunt Sleak looked around her. “Agreed.”
As they walked past the pleasure chamber, a cadre of armed guards carried out Lady Drianne’s Matayan Slayer.
He looked lucky to be alive, his face a mash of blood and pulped bone. His filmy eyes locked onto Naero, flushed with fear and pain. But upon seeing her, they came alive with hatred once more.
Naero blew him another kiss. The injured Matayan tried to rise, but dropped back, unconscious.
Janner tumbled into view, spilling out of a zero-G pleasure pod, Devi still clinging to him, half his clothes torn off.
“Hey guys, great party, eh? Some merchant told me to go look for you. Whose smart idea was it to send me an alert code when you knew I was busy?”
“Jan,” Aunt Sleak said. “Shut up, grow up, and acquire some brains...and class. Lose your little friend and come with us.”
Devi started laughing and shaking uncontrollably. “That was so funny, Jan. You should have seen your face.” The young girl was obviously maxed out of her mind on something. She could hardly stand.
“Oh, Jan,” she suddenly said, growing pale. “I think I straight blasted too much. I’m gonna–” She collapsed, convulsed on the floor, foaming at the mouth. A Triaxian naval officer threw his dress jacket over her and held her thrashing body down.
Jan stood by and watched, chuckling.
Aunt Sleak grabbed Jan by the arm and dragged him off. Janner still laughed. “Maybe I should help her up.”
“Leave her to her own people,” Zalvano said.
Aunt Sleak was so livid she couldn’t speak at first. Then she turned on him. “Blast? You’re doing blast just like your little lander friends? You know what that garbage does to your brain?”
“Easy,” Janner said. “She did it. Not me. I wouldn’t touch that crap. It made her fun to watch, though.”
They reached Aunt Sleak’s shuttle, their people were already armed and waiting uneasily for them to board.
Both Zalvano and Naero performed thorough scans. Nothing that wasn’t there before. No neutron detonator.
Had Baeven been wrong or had he gotten to it first? Something strange went down during the party, but Naero still wasn’t quite sure what.
Aunt Sleak secured the craft, launched, and demanded a full report.
For not knowing much, Naero did her best.
14
The Maeris Fleet departed Irpul-4 within the hour and without further incident, fully loaded for their next stop at Epsilon Sextanis-6. The space-time jump would take the fleet five standard days.
Five days of routine, nonstop physical training and education. Five days to wrap her head around the loss of her parents, mourn for them, and find a way to not be insane and move on.
Enough time to get rid of the hallucination on her forehead and not go completely whacko. Her mind already on overload.
She had more than enough to worry about, what with the intrigue surrounding her parents’ deaths, and the Corps trying to abduct her and her broth
er–for reasons still unknown.
Let alone trying to figure out where she stood with the Clan Fleet, and what kind of future she had there, if any.
At least Naero was used to the jump routine; she’d lived it all her life.
Spacers made good use of their down time–if any could even call it that–to better themselves. They never stopped improving, never stopped learning. They worked hard. Trained hard. And played hard in their off hours.
She didn’t really feel much like slacking off, but she also understood how important rest and relaxation were to a balanced life…and mind. The delusions she suffered and her mental state had Naero more worried than anything else.
Her mother used to say that the point of a blade could only stay so sharp for so long before it blunted or snapped. Even a razor’s edge could be honed too thin, and grow weak and brittle.
Naero’s hallucinations proved how fragile she was.
In the Spacer concept of overall personal balance and harmony, knowledge and skill translated into survival and success. Yet they should also be rewarded with comfort, ease, and pleasure.
After she did manage to fall asleep, she had another nightmare in which she again struggled against a similar dark power that threatened to swallow her up.
This time, a young, glowing blue woman with white hair appeared, studying her. Just out of reach.
“Help me!” Naero begged.
“I’m not sure if I should,” the blue female said. “What are you?”
“I’m in trouble. I need help!”
“What are you?” the blue woman repeated in fear.
Naero woke up startled and gasping, just like before.
What was her madness trying to tell her? Did it make any sense at all?
Exhausted, she forced herself to rest some more.
On Jump Day number one, Naero flashed out of her bunk at five bells, tore off her headband in the mirror, and looked for her new third eye.
She cupped her hand over her mouth
She nearly wept.
The extra eye–proof of her growing insanity–was gone.
Morning PT began, intense physical training. Stretching, running, weights, and a brutal, punishing obstacle course, parts of it in zero-G.
Spacer Clans Adventure 1: Naero's Run Page 10
