Wanderer - Echoes of the Past

by Simon Goodson

  Dash’s fleet made the jump, leaving the other ships to find their own safe haven. After further discussion Dash decided they needed a stronger, safer base. They found one that accepted them. This time it was a true pirate base — though one that avoided the worst excesses. Dash and his troopers soon earned respect, and over time Dash’s influence grew… as did his forces.

  With his forces growing it became increasingly difficult to find targets he was happy with. Dash had started something in motion that he could no longer fully control unless he stuck with it wholeheartedly. His definition of valid targets widened more and more. Eventually almost any target would be considered, though Dash still curbed the worst excesses amongst those he controlled.

  As time went on Dash’s growing power base became a source of worry for those who ran the pirate base. Eventually they decided he had grown too powerful, and they launched an attack to eliminate him. They had badly underestimated not just the discipline of Dash’s forces but also the loyalty. Where they expected most of his forces to stand aside and watch to see who won, they instead found almost everyone who owed allegiance to Dash fighting tooth and nail for him.

  The conflict was vicious, bloody and short-lived. In under an hour Dash’s forces had prevailed and those who had planned the attack were dead. Dash found himself the de facto leader of the base, a position he quickly cemented. Since then his power had increased, as had the loyalty of those who followed him.

  And, as always happens, power corrupted. While he tried to stick to his original values he found them eroded more and more over time. Necessity and the image he had to portray forced him to cross line after line, to order action after action that he would once have balked at.

  Throughout it all though he clung to two values. The first was his hatred of what he saw as the corruption in the Empire. The dirty, underhanded things the Empire so often resorted to, such as killing civilians, which were so at odds with what he had signed up to defend. His new position let him learn far more of that side of the Empire than he had ever wished to.

  The other value was a determination to avoid fuelling the worst excesses when it came to the treatment of prisoners. Taking prisoners was unavoidable, as was having to sell them on, but wherever possible he ensured they went where they would at least have some quality of life. He hated the sinkholes of human misery like the mining complexes and refused to sell prisoners there if at all possible.

  As the years went by more and more of his small core of original troopers were lost. Three actually left on good terms, left to settle down somewhere else and start families. They left with Dash’s blessing, hard as it was to see them go. They were the lucky ones. Others were lost in combat — killed when their ship was destroyed, or struck down during boarding operations.

  Hotshot died the year after Dash became overall leader of the base. Not in combat, and not in a dogfight — no one could touch her there. She died in a bar room brawl over a spilt drink. Dash had been ready to have her killers dismembered, torn apart. Dozer had talked him down, made him realise how bad that would be for morale. Instead the two culprits were banished. Only Dozer, Dash and a few trusted troopers knew that the two were hunted down and executed almost immediately after they left. At Dozer’s insistence they were killed swiftly though.

  Only seven members of the original crew remained. Dash knew all of them well now, considered them all good friends, but none of them came anywhere near to the relationship he and Dozer had. And now Dozer was gone. Dash felt like a knife had been plunged into his heart, and only years of iron clad self-control prevented tears from spilling down his cheeks. He would mourn Dozer soon, in the privacy of his own rooms. Until then he had to maintain the iron mask his men all expected. To do otherwise was to court dissent and disaster.

  Part Two

  Chapter Twelve

  Jess pored over the details of Free Rock, the destination they had chosen, and the system of Serona. He wanted to understand as much about the system as possible before they arrived. In too many cases he’d been forced into actions by developing situations, often because he didn’t know enough to head things off sooner. He was determined to avoid any repeat of that.

  The Serona system was unusual in that it had an inhabitable world, one that humans could live outside on. Serona Four, also known as Nuevo Hogar, was no paradise, but such worlds were rare enough that the rich still flocked to it.

  Water was in limited supply. There were large lakes and several inland seas but most of the planet was dry land. Many large cities were scattered across its landscape, home to the majority of the population. Large areas of parks and forests surrounded the cities, with transport hubs at regular intervals to give the city dwellers access.

  The rest of the landscape was divided up amongst super-rich individuals and corporations. Land reserved for their own personal use. Most of the land consisted of parks and forests again, though factories and research labs were rumoured to exist below ground in some places.

  Jess had never set foot on a planet, as far as he knew anyway. It was possible he had spent time on one but sealed away, labouring at whatever task they needed slaves for. If that had happened it didn’t really count. Nuevo Hogar called to him. He longed to visit it.

  Visiting was out of the question though. Such an important world was tightly controlled and policed by the Empire. Space not just around it, but around all six of the inner planets, was crawling with imperial forces and sensors.

  The security extended so far out partly to keep Nuevo Hogar safe, but also because the one habitable planet depended heavily on the other inner planets for goods and food. Huge farming stations orbited the second and third worlds out from the sun, basking in the heat. The closest world in, Serona Prime, was a useless hellhole that orbited the sun in days and had a semi-molten surface.

  Nuevo Hogar itself was relatively free of stations. Other than those needed to manage the huge flow of visitors, food and goods there were only defensive facilities — docks, weapon platforms and the like.

  In contrast Serona Five and Six were heavily industrialised and surrounded by a halo of manufacturing stations, along with the support industries such a large number of workers needed — from hospitals to bars to less pleasant, and more illegal, offerings.

  With the huge imperial presence Jess had been shocked when Elizabeth suggested they visit Serona. Once she explained more about the system, and he pulled even more details from the Wanderer, he started to see why it was a good choice.

  Heading out from the sun, after Serona Six there were several large asteroid belts. Then, much further out, there were no less than seven gas giants. Most of those had numerous moons, several would be called planets had they been orbiting the star. The insatiable demand for raw materials to keep Nuevo Hogar supplied had led to a huge boom in the outer planets.

  Over time tens of thousands of stations and settlements had been established. With such a large area to cover imperial law couldn’t be effectively enforced. The navy ran patrols and stayed alert for anything that could threaten the inner worlds, as well as strictly policing all craft heading in system, but otherwise left the outer systems alone.

  It could have been a recipe for anarchy and chaos, it probably would have been, but the companies dependant on the outer systems supplies stepped in to ensure stability. The order they imposed was far more relaxed than the Empire’s though. As long as supplies continued to turn up on time and with the minimum of interference they were satisfied.

  The outer worlds flourished and a curious ordered-anarchy developed. While illegal operations thrived more overt crimes didn’t. Theft, on any scale larger than petty theft, was quickly crushed. Kidnapping too. Anything that could interfere with profits was quickly stamped on.

  This selective enforcement of law led to the outer planets becoming one of the safest places to conduct illegal business. While the risk of being ripped off remained, the chances of being robbed and killed in the area were very low. As the shadow economy boome
d the large companies took note, and soon had unofficial stakes in the largest operations.

  As Elizabeth said, it was the perfect location for the Wanderer to call in at. The huge size of the outer systems, and the mind numbing number of ships that visited, meant they would be lost amongst the crowd — even when involved in shady transactions.

  They had settled on Free Rock, a large hollowed out asteroid in orbit around Serona Nine. It had a permanent population of nearly thirty thousand and nearly as many visitors at any one time.

  It was perfect for their needs, but Jess still worried. With so many people around it could be impossible to spot trouble coming. To make matters worse robots were banned from the station, so they couldn’t take backup with them.

  Elizabeth seemed confident. She was used to visiting such places and had already identified a number of locations to start their search in. She’d warned them that they couldn’t simply walk in and start asking about false documentation. She would need to be subtle.

  With a sigh Jess forced his attention back to the mountain of information, determined to be prepared.

  *****

  “No Jess, not you,” Elizabeth said firmly.

  Jess stared at her in surprise for a few moments. He'd been sure he was going with Elizabeth. Finally he replied.

  “What? But I thought we’d do the same mother and son act. It worked well before.”

  “Yes, it did, but we don’t need it here. I have to go, obviously, and I want one of you with me but there’s no reason it has to be you. I want to take Sal.”

  “What?” Sal asked. Differing emotions ran across her face — shock, excitement, fear and more.

  “I want you to come with me,” Elizabeth said. “You’ve been shut up on the ship for too long.”

  “I… I guess I’d like that. But Ali has been stuck on the ship for as long.”

  “I know. Jess can take her off later, for a quiet dinner somewhere or something. So long as they don’t go far from the ship.”

  Jess’s heart beat a little faster at the idea. Ali’s face lit up too.

  “Then I’ll go.”

  Sal still sounded nervous but Jess was pleased to see the spark of excitement in her eyes.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sal’s heart was hammering as she stepped out of the Wanderer’s airlock beside Elizabeth. The sides and roof of the short docking corridor they stood in were clear. Looking back she could see the bulk of the Wanderer, and catch glimpses of other docked ships.

  Then they were cycling through a large airlock at the other end of the corridor. It opened onto a scene that stopped Sal in her tracks. There was a large corridor, running left to right, which was packed with people chaotically jostling each other.

  “Come on,” Elizabeth said, pulling on Sal’s arm. “It will ease off once we get away from the docking bays. Stay close.”

  Still holding Sal’s arm she plunged into the crowd, pulling Sal after her. Sal struggled to stay close and cope with the situation.

  It wasn’t the number of people packed in together, as a slave she had experienced far worse overcrowding at times. What she struggled with was the fact that every single person seemed to have their own agenda. Slaves were generally given orders as a group. When slaves were packed in tightly they would normally all have the same instructions. There would be an order to the movement, a rhythm almost. It was possible to get into that rhythm and let it carry you through the tasks. That was impossible with this crowd.

  After several minutes of forcing their way past strangers Sal was greatly regretting having agreed to go with Elizabeth. Then they turned into a connecting corridor and everything changed. While still very busy the new corridor lacked the chaotic crush of the first. It was possible to walk without having to constantly contend with people trying to travel through the same space in different directions. Sal let out a deep sigh of relief.

  “You OK?” Elizabeth asked, grinning. “It’s always like that on these big stations. Near the docks they have to keep the number and size of the corridors down. They always underestimate how many people will be using those corridors, so you get a crush like that. Most of the station won’t be so bad, though market areas may be worse.”

  “Will it be the same when we go back?”

  “Yeah, afraid so. Stations like this always are. Right, first things first. We need some money. That’ll do.”

  She set off towards a small shop with heavily barred windows. Two men stood outside, on either side of the door. One was a walking mountain of muscle, with tattoos covering almost all of his visible body. A deterrent for trouble.

  Yet it was the other that Sal thought was truly dangerous. Much shorter than his companion, and significantly older, this man had no tattoos and was dressed in smart clothes. His eyes were in constant motion, intently watching the crowd that milled past the door. His right hand didn’t stray more than a few inches from his right suit pocket, where Sal could clearly see a large bulge. Where the heavy would wade into trouble with his fists, or other short range weapons, Sal was sure the suited man would stand back and let his gun do the talking.

  A cold chill ran down her spine as the suited man looked at her. Elizabeth just nodded and stepped past. Sal’s steps faltered. She came to a halt just before she reached the two men.

  The heavy just looked at her, a sneer on his face. The suited man smiled and gestured for her to continue.

  “Please, don’t mind us,” he said. “I’m sure you aren’t here to rob the shop, are you?”

  “No… no! Of course not!”

  “Then go right on in.”

  He gestured for her to go in once more. Sal scuttled past. She heard a snigger from the heavy and her face started to flush.

  “Really? Is that what you get off on?” she heard the suited man ask. “Scaring nervous women? That’s the sign of a big, tough man isn’t it?”

  The door closed behind her, cutting off the rest of the conversation, but she felt a little better. She still felt the man in the suit would be an extremely dangerous adversary, but he no longer seemed so cold.

  Putting them out of her mind, Sal looked around the shop. Though shop wasn’t the word she would have used. It reminded her far more of a prison cell. The room was small, only three metres to a side, and completely empty. The far wall had a heavily grilled window, and what looked like an opening to the side. Elizabeth had approached the window and started to speak.

  “I want to change some gold into dollars.”

  She took a small bar of gold from her bag.

  “Put it in the hatch.”

  The man on the other side sounded bored. Sal couldn’t tell much about him. It seemed to be harder to make out his face than the bars alone could account for. Elizabeth opened the hatch to the side of the window then closed it up. Something whirred away inside.

  “Pure gold,” the man said, sounding a little more interested now. “All right, I can give you eleven thousand dollars for that.”

  “Eleven? It’s worth thirty at least!” Elizabeth replied angrily.

  “If you think that, take it somewhere else and see what you get. You’ll be lucky if they offer you eleven. Take it or leave it.”

  Elizabeth stood for a moment, clearly fighting to keep calm. Finally she spoke in a tightly controlled voice.

  “Fine. I’ll take it.”

  “Good. Do you want it all on a card?”

  “One thousand cash, the rest on a card.”

  “One moment then…”

  The man did a number of things that Sal could hear but not see, then the hatch door slid up again. The gold was gone and replacing it were a bundle of notes and a small white card. Elizabeth quickly picked up both, stowing them away in her bag.

  Without a word Elizabeth turned and stalked towards the door. Caught flat footed, Sal had to rush to catch up.

  “Have a lovely day and do come back soon,” called out the man.

  Elizabeth stiffened for a moment but then seemed to regain control
. She opened the door and stamped out. Sal followed.

  The two men remained by the door, but now the heavy was standing slightly bent, holding his stomach and breathing in short bursts.

  “Don’t mind him,” the man in the suit said. “We had a slight disagreement about manners. All settled now.”

  Sal nodded and hurried past. She’d been right. The one in the suit was by far the most dangerous of the two, something the heavy appeared to have just learnt.

  Sal hurried to catch up with Elizabeth.

  “Hey, slow down a bit. I understand you’re upset but why didn’t you just refuse to deal with him?”

  “I’m not upset,” replied Elizabeth with a bright smile.

  “What? But… you said…”

  “Just an act. I knew we’d get a poor rate, and we have plenty of reserves left at the moment. If I’d let on that it wasn’t a problem then he would have been suspicious immediately, and he might have got the idea that we had plenty more gold. He’d then pass that information to some less than savoury friends of his and we’d soon have a whole heap of trouble.”

  “Oh… Yes. I can see that.”

  “Come on, let’s get a drink,” Elizabeth said, changing the topic quickly if not subtly.

  “A drink?”

  “Yes, a drink. Bars are always the best place to start when you need this type of information.”

  Bars were also exceptionally easy to find, Sal noted. The corridor they walked down had shops and bars on both sides, but more bars than shops. As she trailed after Elizabeth it soon became clear that Elizabeth was looking for something in particular, not just any bar. They passed fifteen or twenty bars ranging from what tried to appear as high-class to those where loud music and arguments spilled out into the corridor.