The Coming Storm_A Pax Aeterna Novel

by Trevor Wyatt

  The outrageously loud music suddenly ceased.

  “Hey lady, I’m talking to you!” the burly man exclaimed.

  They all glanced in his direction.

  Uh oh, Tira thought.

  Still, no one replied. Tira supposed they were too shocked to realize that they were being dragged into a fight.

  The burly man took a step towards Ashley, and almost immediately, Tira and Jeryl were on their feet.

  Tira was putting herself between the burly man and Ashley before she knew what she was doing.

  “We don’t want any trouble, sir,” Tira heard herself say.

  The burly man burst into laughter, and a few of his cronies joined him.

  “Trouble?” he replied. “Well, trouble already found you, bitch!”

  And then, he lashed out.

  Tira was at fault, she knew it. She had underestimated him. He was fat—too fat for it to be considered legal. He was potbellied and had a lot of flabby fat coating his arms and legs; he wore shorts and a singlet. He certainly didn’t look like the athletic type, nor did he sound like one. He couldn’t possibly move fast enough.

  Wrong!

  The fist smashed into her right cheek, the force of impact throwing her to the side like she weighed nothing. She landed on another table, breaking it into pieces immediately.

  Tira hung on the edge of consciousness, the following events sounding like a distant blur. Her vision swarmed and her mind tried to process the fiery pain lighting up her right side.

  She moaned, the salty taste of blood stinging her tongue.

  “Stay back, sir,” she heard Jeryl say along with the distinct click of a gun. “We don’t want to fight.”

  Tira struggled with herself, pulling her body out of the wreck until she was on her knees. She swallowed hard as pain shot through her right leg which had borne the brunt of the impact.

  “He has a gun!” the man bellowed in mock fear before he descended into another bout of laughter. His cronies laughed along.

  Anger exploded in Tira’s belly. She threw herself to her feet. Like a rushing wall, a wave of nausea slammed into her.

  Tira staggered back, reaching out for a purchase to steady herself, but instead landing her hand on another human being.

  The man slapped her hand off. “Get your hand off me, you niffy little swine.”

  Tira’s first instinct was to punch the man in the face, but she had a bigger fish to fry. She noticed that the burly fellow hadn’t taken another step in Ashley or Jeryl’s direction. She also saw that all eyes were on the unfolding situation. The waiter with the water and scotch was also hanging back, unsure of what to do.

  The bouncers remained at their stations, though they watched with wariness.

  Fine, Tira thought. I guess I’ll just have to stop them myself.

  “Last warning, Fat Joe!” Tira yelled, drawing attention to her approach.

  “What are you doing?” Jeryl whispered as she passed by him.

  “Following your cue, sir,” she replied.

  She crossed no man’s land and stood right in front of the burly man.

  “Does it give you a kick, huh?” she whispered into his face. “Hitting women in the face?”

  She could see the remark hitting home, with the smirk disappearing from his face.

  “I’ll do it again and again, if that’s what it takes,” he retorted through clenched teeth.

  Tira’s mock laughter echoed through the silence. “You can only try.”

  She saw it before it came: the twitch of his right lips that heralded his left hand flying for her abdomen. She leaped out of the way, though not before landing her palm against his right cheek.

  The clap of the slap carried through the entire room, a sweep of murmurs resulting and tracing itself from one side of the bar to the other. Fat Joe fell to his knees, momentarily dazed. His crew were now on their feet, just like Tira wanted it.

  If we’re going to fight, might as well get it over with, Tira thought. She hoped as hell that the entire bar didn’t turn on them. As for five silly drunk customers, she was pretty confident they could handle it.

  “That’s for hitting a woman,” Tira said in the silence that followed. “Apparently, your wench of a mother didn’t teach you that.”

  Fat Joe screamed in rage and lurched in her direction, but Tira was ready. She sidestepped the attack, striking his right temple with her fist. The attack threw him off course and he barreled right into an adjacent table.

  Tira dodged a punch from another assailant just in time. She followed through with a fist to the abdomen. The scrawny man went down, gasping for breath.

  Tira retreated to Jeryl and Ashley, who was now standing, as the rest of the crew formed a loose circle around them. Fat Joe was recovering and cursing loudly. In the corner of her eyes, Tira could see some others standing to join the fight, and she was pretty sure they weren’t going to be fighting for her.

  It was at times like this when Tira wished she could just say ‘Scotty, three to beam!’ like in the old stories.

  All she could say now was ‘Shit!’

  She wasn’t exactly afraid, but what good would come out of a situation like this?

  Tira drew her weapon and aimed it at Fat Joe, while Ashley and Jeryl aimed elsewhere.

  “There’s no way this is ending well,” Jeryl whispered.

  Fat Joe was already standing by now. A trickle of blood had pulled out of his right nostril and was halfway to his upper lip. He didn’t look so good.

  “I’m going to enjoy killing you,” he said, eyeing Tira.

  At that moment, a shadow cordoned by a shaft of light fell on the man and a few of his crew.

  “Enough!” a voice that Tira had never heard before said.

  They all turned to see a man in the open doorway. He stood silhouetted by the flood of light from outlying buildings.

  Tira noted the look of terror that appeared on Fat Joe.

  “This is no concern of yours, pirate,” Fat Joe plucked up the courage to say.

  The man walked right past Tira and company to the burly man. “They’re here to see me, Steve,” he said, loud enough for the rest of the bar to hear him. “So it’s all of my concern.”

  “I didn’t know,” Steve a.k.a Fat Joe replied, anger bristling all over his body.

  “Fuck off,” the man replied with a hiss.

  Steve cowered at that command. He and his crew walked out of the bar within seconds.

  Before long, the bar returned to its usual tempo: loud music, dancing people, and roving waiters. The man had doused the tension with a simple command, and Tira was enthralled.

  Once they were back on their table with the new entrant sitting with them, Jeryl looked at Tira and Ashley and said, “Meet Jeremy Black, Captain of the White Silk.”

  Chapter 12

  Jeryl

  “Thanks for the save, Jeremy,” Jeryl said after introducing Ashley and Tira to their contact.

  Nodding at the ladies, Jeremy turned his attention to Jeryl, with an additional glance or two at Tira. “No problem, Captain. What set that off?”

  Ashley answered as she grabbed the water the waiter had set down. “This.”

  “A glass of water set Steve off?”

  Jeremy leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and grinning.

  “Apparently,” Ashley replied with a shrug.

  Shaking his head, Jeremy got the attention of the bartender and used three fingers to indicate his table. Then, he turned his attention to Tira. “And I’m guessing you needed to prove yourself the bigger person?”

  Jeryl put his hand on Tira’s shoulder, keeping her in her seat. Jeremy was only playing with her, he didn’t need her to go off on their contact. “You mind if we get down to business?”

  Jeremy nodded, showing only the slightest bit of disappointment. “What did you need?”

  “Information, and maybe some help,” Jeryl said. The bartender came back, bringing three glasses and a bottle, as well as a sm
all bucket of peanuts.

  Jeremy handed out the glasses, popped the cork on the bottle, and poured Jeryl, Tira, and himself a three-quarter glass of what was inside. “I see…information.” He sipped at his drink, letting out a satisfied sigh after swallowing.

  Jeryl sniffed his drink and sipped at it. It was the absolute best brandy he had ever tasted. “We need to know about...”

  “The Ghost, right? The Union’s sword has come back to bite you all in the ass, huh?”

  “So, you know?”

  “I know a lot of things,” Jeremy shrugged. “But you shouldn’t be asking about The Ghost. Not yet. You should be asking about the Syndicate.”

  “The Syndicate?” It didn’t make any sense. Was Jeremy implying that the Syndicate, one of the oldest criminal organizations, operating in both Confederation and Union space, was behind the attacks? They were cunning and ruthlessly efficient, and so they had always steered away from a conflict with the military. What had changed?

  “The Syndicate,” Jeremy nodded. “A few months back, six, maybe seven, things started to change for them.”

  “Change how, exactly?” Ashley asked as she cracked open a peanut.

  Reaching over and grabbing a handful of nuts, Jeremy answered. “It started off a little small. A few members, lowly little lieutenants you could say, started disappearing. Their bodies would be found a few days or weeks later, badly beaten and mangled. After a few of them were found, some more powerful members vanished, and their crews began taking orders from someone else. About four months ago, the Syndicate had a new boss and they began running things differently, much more coordinated.” Jeremy popped a few peanuts in his mouth and added, “They’ve gotten deadlier as well. They leave people that they used to just intimidate bloody and broken. And they’ve started expanding their list of operations, as you know, graduating from punching civilians to shooting Armada captains.”

  As Jeremy told them this, Jeryl was looking around the bar. No one seemed to be paying any attention to them.

  Guess no one cares what happens here.

  “Any idea who’s in charge now?” Jeryl asked, taking another sip of his drink.

  Jeremy tossed a peanut in the air and caught it in his mouth, then shook his head. “No. We’re not sure who runs the show exactly. Some say he’s Tyreesian, some say he’s Sonali, no one knows. There are rumors that he could be Irivani, or even a Kurta reject.” He drained his glass and poured himself another one. “Personally, I couldn’t care less what he is, as long as he doesn’t get involved in my business. I just want to know who he is, so I know who I’m doing business with.”

  Tira’s hand dropped to her laser pistol. “You work for the Syndicate?”

  Shaking his head, Jeremy flashed her a smile. “No, I don’t work for the Syndicate. I have been known to do business with the Syndicate, but it’s usually so I get to keep my ship and stay on their good side. Trust me, sweetheart, you don’t want to have the Syndicate pissed off at you, not with their new power structure.”

  Jeryl sat back and thought about what Jeremy said. It made sense, as most criminal organizations underwent a hostile takeover at times. Hell, Earth’s history was full of stories like that. But who was this new boss that had changed things so much?

  “And what does this have to do with The Ghost?”

  “The new boss…he’s The Ghost’s captain.”

  All the blood drained from Jeryl’s face, and he could see Ashley’s face go pale as well. Tira simply sat there with her drink in her hand, her jaw dropped to the floor.

  Jeremy chuckled half-heartedly. “C’mon, don’t tell me you’re surprised.”

  The trio’s faces remained head blank, and Jeremy chuckled some more and downed another glass of brandy. Refilling his glass again, he sat back and watched them.

  Jeryl’s mind raced. The Ghost. The ship that had almost destroyed them a few days ago, a ship that should have been destroyed years ago, was captained by the new leader of the Syndicate. It was one the most powerful ships in the galaxy, and now it was in the hands of the Syndicate…an organization that was raiding Terran convoys and stealing technology and weapons.

  If The Ghost had been lost to the Sonali towards the end of the war, it made sense that the new captain was a Sonali—unless the Sonali had either sold it or left it to float in space and someone else commandeered it.

  A chilling thought crossed Jeryl’s mind—if The Ghost had survived, which it had, what about the information left behind on its computer systems? That meant that the Syndicate now had access to Union files.

  Jeremy’s smile faded, and he leaned forward. “This new boss is ruthless, and he delegates jobs out to his most trusted people. I happen to know one of those people.”

  That brought Jeryl’s concentration back to the moment.

  “That’s what we were hoping for. We were hoping you could get one of ours in for a meet-and-greet,” he said, looking at Tira.

  Jeremy looked Tira up and down again and grimaced. “She’s too pretty.”

  Tira coughed on her brandy. After a few seconds, she cleared her throat and stared daggers at Jeremy. “What do you mean ‘she’s too pretty’?”

  “Think about it. Look around here. Do you see anyone, other than myself of course, that looks even half as good as you, or anyone at this table? No, no you don’t. I’ll tell you why. Working as a pirate, especially out here in the boondocks of space, isn’t the type of work for people that are pretty.”

  “You do it.” “I’m different. I don’t get along well with organized authority, so I try to get along with disorganized authority instead.”

  “That makes so little sense, I actually understood it,” Ashley said.

  Tira wasn’t having it. “So how in the hell am I too pretty to be a pirate?”

  Jeremy let out a massive sigh and shook his head. “You look like you’ve had a good life, and that you’re not screwed up enough to be down here with us losers.”

  “Then we use that. I could say that people thought I was ‘too pretty’ to be taken seriously, so I’m leaving the Union. I can claim to have information they could use.”

  Rubbing his chin, Jeremy stared at Tira for a second before turning to Jeryl. “You really think she could do it?”

  “That’s why she’s here.”

  “Fine. I know someone. There’s a delivery coming in tonight a few miles east of here. As a matter of fact, I think it’s from that convoy you lost.”

  Jeryl’s eyes went wide. How did Jeremy know about that?

  Jeremy smiled and held up his hands in mock surrender. “Easy, you’re dealing with a pirate, remember? Word travels fast in our circle. It only took a few hours for news of your convoy getting hit, and the infamous The Seeker being jacked up, to make the rounds.”

  “Shit. As you were saying?”

  “Yeah. A…let’s say, buddy of mine, is delivering those stolen weapons to a warehouse just east of here. Word has it that The Ghost’s captain is going to be there, overseeing the delivery.”

  “Okay. You’re sure you can get her in?” Jeryl asked as he finished off his drink.

  “As easy as walking into this bar, she just has to make sure that she’s convincing,” Jeremy answered, leaning back.

  Tira leaned back in her chair, imitating Jeremy. “I think I can handle it.”

  Jeremy chuckled. “Fine. Since it’s early and we have a few hours, how about we eat? This place doesn’t look clean, but they got some good food, if you don’t mind clogging an artery or three.”

  They agreed to eat, letting Jeremy order for them. Jeryl ordered a beer and thought about what they had learned during the conversation.

  The Ghost was now the lead ship in a criminal organization. Whoever was her captain had taken over the Syndicate with brute force, had access to The Ghost’s computers and hard drives, somehow knew when the convoys were running, and was doing everything within Union space. And now, he was about to send one of his own into the fray, not sure if she’d even
be accepted into their ranks.

  He knew Tira could handle herself, and that he’d be ready and waiting with a squad of soldiers to bail her out, but he was still worried. What if they got there late? What if he didn’t bring enough people? What if this was a trap and that Jeremy had gone bad? Too much was riding on this, but his contact said that Jeremy could be trusted. He was a good man, a bit unorthodox in his dealings, but that he could be trusted.

  Jeryl shook his head to clear his thoughts. He had to take the risk and to use Tira in this way. Too much was riding on making sure that the Syndicate was stopped, or at least slowed down, and that the Union convoys weren’t hit anymore.

  And, most of all, Jeryl didn’t want The Ghost in the hands of criminals.

  Don’t worry, man, he thought to himself, his mind drifting to memories of Kaine, I’ll get your ship back.

  Chapter 13

  Tira

  Tira looked from Jeremy to Jeryl with dread.

  Is this a good idea? She wondered. But then a second later, she decided, Oh yeah, bring it on, with an inner grin.

  The food was greasy and overcooked, but her three companions ate it like it was the best meal in the universe. Tira only picked at it—whatever—it was and decided she wasn’t hungry anyway.

  Still fuming at the ‘too pretty’ remark, she spent the rest of the meal glaring at an oblivious Jeremy. He and Ashley were chatting about the baby and she had his full attention. Jeryl gave her sideways glances every once in a while—a warning to keep her temper, no doubt. She ignored those looks but knew he meant business if she screwed up. Taking a healthy swig, Tira turned her attention from Jeremy to the rest of the bar. It was her job to look out for trouble, after all.

  She couldn’t help it. Her attention was drawn back to the pirate as she finally determined what grated on her so much. He was quick to smile and gush over Ashley’s pregnancy. He was friendly and charming.

  It was an act and Tira wasn’t fooled. She had seen his type before. He came off as both charming and condescending, but underneath there was a layer of darkness. He wanted to be underestimated. Having used the same tactic, she would have recognized it right away if she hadn’t been seething over his flippant remarks. She now understood just how dangerous he was.