Eric Olafson Series Boxed Set: Books 1 - 7

by Vanessa Ravencroft

  While our Archa pleaded with the cook to change the planned pudding dessert to ice cream, I said to the Togar, “This is Lt. Krabbel, my navigator and he is from Archa. There is hardly a kinder soul aboard this ship, and you need not fear him.”

  She nodded and her eyes shimmered wet.

  Shea whispered, “Say something to her, she’s crying.”

  The Togar female said, “There is wonderful harmony at this table. All these different beings, and they all have a home and a purpose. I think I am ready to leave now.”

  I said, “Why don’t you tell us who you are, before you go?”

  “I am Jolaj of Grotha. I was born to a priestess of the temple. It is forbidden for those who serve the 431 Spirits of the Grotha to have children, except when the spirits manifest themselves through birth, which had last happened many thousands of years ago. I was born on the feast day of Malmoru the Lightray Spirit and, because I have white fur, they elevated me and gave me the name Jolaj, calling me the one who saves the Togar from the wrath of the darkest spirit, the one that shall not be named and comes from a cold dark place.”

  She raised her head. “My people are very proud and fierce, and we are told not to like other species. We are ruled as much by our queen as by our faith and religion.”

  I noticed Shaka, who sat at her other side, looking at her with great attention. His hand touched her fingertips and he said with a gentle tone in his voice, “It sounds like you are a living god among your people and should be exalted and celebrated.”

  She turned to face him. “It was so at the beginning, and I was schooled and educated and learned much about the outside worlds. I know of the Dai Than, the Kermac, the Nogoll, the Karthanians, and I was told about the Union. But then, two cycles ago, at my feast day, the queen came to the temple to be justified by the Spirits for another cycle and to question the holy smokes of the glowing pit about the future. The Spirits prophesied her reign would see the coming of the Darkest Spirit and that this dark spirit would even disguise himself and shape itself as a Togar female. The Darkest Spirit would also kill her and all of her dynasty and great darkness would descent upon the Togar and the very light of the Galaxy’s center would be dimmed.”

  Shaka took her hand into his, and I was certain he was not even aware of doing it. “Sorry, but that sounds like every other prophecy uttered by a thousand prophets on a thousand different planets. It is always the darkness and evil this and doom and gloom that. I am sorry but I think this is how these religions stay in business. What I don’t understand is why you are being hunted.”

  She answered, “My old teacher warned me, and I didn’t believe her. She said the high priestess and the conference of priestesses hated me, because if I came of age, I would make them obsolete. So, when the queen asked for an interpretation of the prophecy and how she could recognize the false Togar, they said that it was not Malmoru, who sired me, but a mangy Togar male possessed by the Dark Spirit that lay with my mother and that evil was masked in the fur of innocence. A widely broadcast trial declared me guilty of impersonating a goddess, planning to kill the queen, and conspiracy against the realm. I was sentenced to death, but in the dungeons, my old teacher came to visit me and helped me dye my fur. I was herded out with the other prisoners to work the Happy Mines on the Neverwarm planet.

  “Our ship got attacked by the ones who sold me to you, and that is how I ended up here. I am the most wanted criminal in my society, and you are all in danger. Because all Togar would revolt if the truth came out. To the Togar, I am a Goddess. This is why the queen fears me more than anything and wants me destroyed.”

  The big Y’All spread his arms. “Let them come, you are safe with us!”

  Har-Hi said, “Our captain will never yield, even if the entire Universe wanted to get you. I also pledge to defend you and so will everyone on this ship. If we return, you can become a Union citizen and that means the entire might of our civilization will be your shield. So, you pretty Togar cat, cheer up and we’ll find some things for you to do around here.”

  Shea whispered, “I think our quiet Helmsman and our XO are quite smitten by the kitten, and she is very pretty in her exotic way.”

  “I noticed, too.”

  My gorgeous science officer turned to Nestor, who was eating like there was no tomorrow and pointed at the Itomarian Vision Staff on the table. “Please, let us talk about this for a moment. I heard you know where other artifacts like this one can be found.”

  He nodded, chewing, holding a chicken drumstick in his right hand and a biscuit in the other hand. “Yes, I do. Gothar the Dealer has four cases with writing like that and red spheres like that inside.”

  To me, Shea said, “Narth and I are quite certain that this is indeed of Itomarian origin. This staff is a sort of a library access device and those spheres hold knowledge and records of that long gone, barely known, and yet once highly developed civilization. If even one of these spheres is still undamaged, it could provide us with important information. A Saresii legend tells that the Itomarian knew the secrets of the Y’All invasions and how to end them once and for all. Some scholars believe they are the ones who made the Y’all in the first place. The Narth knew of them even before the rise of the Pree and the UNI.”

  I turned to our eating guest. “Who is this Gothar?”

  Nestor used a napkin to wipe the grease off his cheeks and looked quite satisfied. “He is a Lipsiar, a non-Union species from somewhere in the Coreward sector. He lives at The Village and buys the scavenged materials from the Skaakh and Stik; things such as valuable metals, plastics, and everything else that might still have value. We can buy knives, chemguns, food, and such from him. Once a month or so, he takes his freight skimmer to the Commodity Market and sells what we collected.”

  The door to the hangar opened once more, and Cateria returned, accompanied by the tall native. He, too, was clean now. His skin was a pale yellow and he somehow looked as if his skin had been stretched over an elongated Human skeleton with a pointed skull. He was at least three meters tall and his arms almost reached to the ground. He reminded me of a Spindlar, except a Spindlar looked fat compared to him. He bowed before me. “You are the chief of this flying village?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I am Camael Sincenine. I am the Chief of the Um Tribe and Chief of Chief in the meeting of Elders of all People. I am good friend to Nestor.”

  “I am glad you are better, Chief.”

  I knew I could not let him go back before Narth had wiped his memory or placed a hypnotic block.

  “Nestor has told us so many things about the Union. Is it all true?”

  “I do not know what he told you but I am sure it is more or less so.”

  “Nestor told us that we are the true owners of our world and that the Union law would say so.”

  “Yes, the sentient native life form of a planet is by Union law the rightful owner of their home world. However, this is not Union Space and our laws mean little. We must be here in secret.”

  “No, it is not true. Nestor says that everyone can become Union and then planet becomes Union and Union comes and kicks off all Mighty Ones and we are free people again.”

  Har-Hi whistled. “You know, he is right. If the Stik would officially ask for membership, then the Freespace status of Sin 4 would no longer apply. Any civilization, including the ones in Freespace, have the right to associate themselves with any of the Big Four. That is so stipulated in the Freespace Treaty. No one can argue that the Stik are the rightful owners of this world.”

  Nestor nodded. “That’s why the cartel tries to murder all Stik. Stik are not allowed to speak in public, cannot use flyers, and are not allowed to leave on spaceships. The old cartel boss has seen that danger and wanted to eradicate them all, but the new generations don’t even see the Stik anymore and pay no attention to them. I studied the treaty, and I knew this would be the solution one day! I never dreamed it would happen in my lifetime.”

  I played with my braids as I
always did when I was thinking. “This presents a problem. I need to call Fleet HQ about it. But first I need to ask you, Nestor, for a favor. I need to find and talk to this Gothar and I’d best do it incognito. Could you lead me to him?”

  “Yes, Captain Velvet, I will.”

  Har-Hi agreed. “It would not be out of character for a pirate to look for spare parts there either or to buy a load of stuff to pay for a trip instead of flying with empty cargo holds.”

  Chapter 12: Zorgo Cave

  I missed the battle armor greatly as I followed Nestor through the twilight of the coming night. The air was putrid and stank, almost as bad as the enviro tanks. I wore my black leather outfit, a tight leather mask, and a cloak with a hood. The leather was lined with micromesh; no animal or bladed weapon could do me harm. The personal force field generator on my belt had to be the last line of defense. It was currently off, as I did not want to put all my cards on the table.

  Narth monitored my mind and could teleport me out of danger, so I was as safe as one could be in a situation like that. I still didn’t feel too good, especially after Nestor warned me what kind of surprises could hide between the trash. The Village, he told me, was a Skaakh settlement in the middle of Trash Island, made of old shipping containers and crates. The Village Skaakh had organized armed patrols and guards to fend off the bigger, more aggressive vermin that made Trash Island such a dangerous place. Narth had dropped us off about half a click away, so we could reach The Village unobserved. I was sure there were eyes on the Tigershark ever since the Togar had broadcast their demands all over the system. While I made sure we broadcasted back on the same channels, there could be some who didn’t hear all of it or didn’t believe my story.

  I knew I was walking on thin ice in regards of our mission and that exposure could lead to serious repercussions, all the way to open war.

  I kept my hand on my blaster under the cape and wished I had added a breathing mask to my disguise. Nestor knew his way around and avoided nests of curling tentacles, well-hidden at first and exploding to life if something came near. The air was filled with insects of various sizes. I held the hood closed with one hand while Nestor was almost unmolested.

  Before we went, he had had held up a dirty tub and explained, “The Stik make this ointment and it keeps most of the nasty stingers away, not all of them, but most.”

  I politely refused the smelly paste he had lathered all over his exposed skin.

  We finally made it, and after one more turn around a mound of rotting plants and paper was The Village. I had rarely seen anything more depressing. About 20 large shipping crates with plastic film roofs and dirty curtains stood in a rough circle around a large standard freight container with an added lean-to out of wood and plastic planks. About a dozen fires burned and two meager, dirty-looking men, one Human the other some Humanoid species I did not recognize, stood by the closest fire, holding those primitive one-shot projectile rifles. They grabbed those weapons but recognized Nestor and made surprised faces as they saw me. He exchanged a few words with them and simply pointed at the large container and they nodded.

  We went into the lean-to through a plastic curtain. Nestor took a spray bottle from a shelf and sprayed it all around us. “It’s to keep the bugs out as much as possible. Gothar doesn’t like us dragging them in.”

  After that decontamination procedure, we entered the actual container. There was artificial light from Lumi-Plates, shelves with knives and a dozen crude-made rifles on one side. Barrels and boxes filled with metal pieces lined the other side. There was a crate with damaged ArtiGrav Coils next to an open sack filled to the brim with little metal discs, a tightly wound bundle of plastic film, and a barrel full of Eboards, all damaged and worn. But right there were four tetragon-shaped boxes with the same alien writing, filled with dark red, fist-sized, glass-like spheres. A counter in the back was a steel plank thrown over two barrels. Behind it sat a bird-like, featherless creature with a large yellowish beak and small staring eyes. The creature was about man-sized and what went for wings had turned into arm-like limbs with three-fingered hands.

  He eyed us, especially me, with a suspicious stare and then he said with a croaking voice, “Nestor. Nestor, my old friend, are you coming to settle your account? You still owe me six copper flops or merchandise of same value.”

  Nestor pointed at me. “This woman I met on the mainland wanted to talk to you. I told her you have plenty of ArtiGrav units.”

  The yellowish beak looked sharp and a little black tongue flickered between the half moon-shaped beak halves. He said with an unfriendly accusatory tone, “You had enough coppers to get a ride to the mainland and did not pay me first? Well, we need to talk about that later.”

  The little speaker in my ear whispered. It was Har-Hi. “The old merchant is back. He is now seeing what you see and will give you advice.”

  I was connected via a safe Transdim link to the ship, and the tiny camera built into my mask transmitted sound and image.

  Gothar the Dealer now turned to me. “I usually don’t do business with folks I don’t know. It’s a habit that has kept me in business for a long time.”

  Hearing Sobody’s voice in my ear, I simply repeated what he said. “I am sure Ms. Polo Coin will do for a name right now, and this is a name that should be familiar to you.”

  I parted my cloak, took out a little plastic bag, and placed it with a heavy thud on the counter. It was filled with hundred polonium hull-weights.

  His little button eyes blinked and the small round tongue flickered across the beak. “I believe we know each other. What can I do for you?”

  Again, I was simply repeating Sobody’s words in my ear. “I have a customer who is in the market for ArtiGrav oils. It just so happens I have room in my freight bay. I am going that way anyway, so I would take them off your hands for a fair price.” I had his undivided attention now. “All of them? I got 10 more boxes like that.”

  I made a sweeping gesture and said, “Yes, all of them.”

  He said, with a whiny voice, “I would gladly sell them to you but they are already promised to Warktur, and he is my best customer.”

  Sobody’s knowledge was truly invaluable, and he had me say, “He never pays you more than five polos per box on a good day. I give you 12 full weights right here and now.”

  His voice and demeanor relaxed somewhat and he said, “You know the scrap business, I can tell.” He raised one of his wings and produced a little hand laser he casually played with and continued to say, “Let us imagine that, for argument’s sake, I shoot you, take all your money and dump your body out there somewhere?”

  I flipped the coat, and he saw my hand on the Nul Graviton, and I said with a relaxed voice, “What if, for argument’s sake, I introduce you to my friends?”

  He did not even try to blink because TheOther had appeared right behind him with one of his terrifying Y’all combat swords and, poking it into the dealer’s back, growled, “Did you just threaten our captain or was this just a joke?”

  Gothar dropped the little laser. Despite him being from a species I knew nothing about, it was obvious he was utterly terrified and he croaked, “A joke. It was a joke!”

  I said, “You can leave me alone with Mr. Gothar. I am sure we will come to an agreement now.”

  TheOther acknowledged and stomped past him, making the container shake with every step, and left through the entrance. How he managed to get in, without making a sound despite his cloak, was a mystery even to me.

  I crossed my arms and said, “Now, how about those coils? I am still willing to deal fair, but don’t test me again.”

  He raised his three-fingered hands. “Of course. I think my friend Warktur must find salvage coils elsewhere, your offer is good business.”

  I made my voice sound pleased and said, “Splendid. Why don’t you give me a good price on those bundles of Polymers and that sack of Boron discs, too?”

  He actually rubbed his hands together and straightened his posit
ion behind the counter. “Of course, it all makes sense. You are dealing with the Dai; they are always in the market for raw materials and recyclables. Good customers, if they let you live after a deal. He pulled a greasy PDD with a busted case and tapped on the screen. “140 polo for all of it, is that acceptable?”

  I pointed at the boxes. “I say 135 if you throw in those red bulb things, and you got a deal.”

  He looked at the boxes and clacked with his beak. “Frankly, lady, I don’t know what those are. I tried to melt a few but they simply crack. But I am glad to get them out of here. You can have them all for 150.”

  I actually enjoyed this haggling a little. “Now, you talk sense. Let’s say 145, and we shake hands.”

  He extended his claw-like hand and I shook it. He croaked, “You are a good business woman. I like your style. How do you want this delivered and where?”

  “Get it to my ship by tomorrow, and I’ll throw in two chips more.”

  “No problem, lady. I have a bunch of lazy hands out there and will have it delivered and loaded in five or six hours.”

  I gave him directions. “The Silver Streak at Gorotolah Spaceport. It’s the Karthanian at the end of the field.”

  ***

  We had returned to the ship without any incidents.

  Yeoman O’Connell handed me the daily order sheet and situation report.

  Lieutenant Senhadjii, the new crew member who had left the ship and I had almost forgotten about, was mentioned in the report.

  True to my promise, I read the report this time and informed myself about this new officer, I had not really met so far.

  Mehdi Senhadjii was attached to our S-2 department. That was the official Fleet designation of the Security and Intelligence department headed by Hans Neugruber.

  Mehedi, so I learned, came from one of the oldest Colonial worlds of former United Earth called Vande Mataram.

  Mehedi’s specialization was infiltration. According to Har-Hi’s evaluation, he spoke many languages on a truly native level, was a master of disguise, and an expert in Observative Combat Psychology, a little-known branch of the secretive NAVINT service. The term unlocked information in my brain that was part of my neural upload I received at Pauli Station. COMPSY was not related to psionics, but was a special field of applied psychology and sociology that took detailed observations of individuals and groups to scary levels. According to Har-Hi, our new officer could watch someone and give you a detailed analysis of their character and intentions. This was impressive, even if you could only do that on Humans.