by C. C. Ekeke
But Norad’s composed temperament was at odds with a Kedri’s typical response to such a situation. He currently sat in the premium passenger cabin of a starliner traveling from the non-Union world of Xiliad, to the gas giant Ipsis. Or more accurately was heading for Ipsis, until it got caught in a rogue interceptor ship’s tractor beam.
The situation wasn’t helped by how the passengers sitting opposite Norad, in the premium passenger cabin, had revealed themselves as cheap cravens. There was also this small, coppery sphere, known to many as mindscrambler, floating to his right. Currently, it was scanning his and the other two passengers’ retinas, using them to remotely shrike into their various vault accounts. And if he or the two other cabin occupants were to try deactivating said sphere, their brains would all be zapped to mush.
Norad had no doubt that more of these mindscramblers floated around in the starliner’s premium passenger and general passenger sections, courtesy of the no-named space pirate gang spacejacking this space flight. Voyages traveling through the Merrivel Nebula to Union Space usually got accosted by space pirates on a semi-regular basis.
“All we want is your vault currency, folks!” a digitally masked, human voice boomed over the starliner’s passenger cabin comms, one of their hijackers. “Comply and you might all make it out of here alive.” The hijacker stated this as if their safety was a privilege.
“Ssstay calm? How can you sssay that, Kedri?” hissed one of Norad’s annoyingly panicked cabin mates, Xuvaal Hoskaraba, a spare and sinewy-built Rothorid with scaly tan skin and diamond-shaped eyes of milk-white coloring. His triangular snout and thin lips peeled back testily to reveal white, needle-like teeth. “We, like most passsssengers, are unarmed.”
Idiot. Norad felt a flush of irritation across his thick green hide. It galled him that this borderline fetus called himself a warrior. “You will live to see another day and we will both profit off this relationship,” he replied, never letting his ire show above the surface.
“We’ve agreed to no relationsssship yet, Kedri,” snapped Hinaa Gahlakahn, the other Rothorid in the cabin. This Rothorid was shorter, more thickset than his associate and much less amenable, with blackish leathery skin and blood-red eyes.
“Thessse ssspace piratesss plan to rob usss blind!” Xuvaal hissed. His tail stuck straight in the air, vibrating rapidly in fear.
“No they won’t,” Hinaa scolded. He glanced uneasily at their cabin mate. “We won’t get our payment from our lassst job until two days from now.”
Norad stared back at the pair in visible disgust. “First off, never tell a prospective supplier how much monies you don’t have,” he chided through clenched, jagged teeth. “Second. Stay. Calm.” The two Rothorids finally took heed of his words and hushed. They were representatives of an upstart, all-Rothorid mercenary group called the ‘Wrathorids’, one of the few client meets that he’d finally been able to get in Union Space. This once obscure group had suddenly been gaining a sterling reputation in the arenas of gunrunning, drug trafficking, and killing for hire over the past year.
Up until this ill-timed spacejacking, Norad was less than impressed. And the feeling was clearly mutual, despite all the impressive Imperial weaponry holos the Kedri had displayed and the reassurance of his supplier’s reliability. Norad had no clue whether these Wrathorids were playing hardball or were just stupid and shortsighted. Despite his contempt, Norad knew he had to impress these two and gain their business. The Wrathorids can be a stepping stone, he reminded himself, to bigger and better clients. That was, if the Kedri didn’t throttle these two cravens with their own tails.
An idea sprang to mind then. He glanced at his clothing: a long, blue-gold Kedri tunic over a skintight obsidian body suit that served as light armor. The latter was a weapon in itself that had passed discreetly through spaceport scanners—Imperium tech, of course. It was a good idea to wear this, he mused. Norad eyed the small copper sphere hovering to his right and raised his hands slowly into the air.
Hinaa’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. Xuvaal looked ready to have a heart attack.
Norad slapped a hand over his eyes, exposing the back of his hand to the copper sphere. The orb lit up in retaliation, only to violently vibrate, spark, and drop like a stone. It hit the floor with a clunk.
“Energy deflector,” Norad muttered as the two Rothorids’ jaws dropped, “Imperial tech at its simplest and best. Stay in the cabin.” He rose from his seat without another word and headed for the door. “Now hopefully those mindscramblers were networked together—”
A glance outside into the premium passenger cabin showed an opulent burgundy and gold-striped aisle. Several mindscrambler spheres lay on its floor, all deactivated and useless. The silvery humanoid-like stewardroids, also serving as travel security, lay motionless on the floor as well. That, at least, explained to Norad why these space pirates’ incursion hadn’t been stopped. The Kedri heard a loud, expletive-laden shout beyond the egress separating the general passenger section.
Norad marched forward, the door sliding open for him. He strode into the general passengers section, an ovular beige section of three rows, separated by two aisles, coppery mindscrambler spheres strewn everywhere. Each row had groups of terrified passengers from every imaginable Union memberworld, three passengers seated next to each other with thin transparent blue dividers, sixty per row. All of them stared in silent bewilderment at three armed hijackers bickering heatedly. The trio wore light camouflage armor and masks, no emblem indicating their pirate gang affiliation. But a quick look told Norad that two of these pirates were human and the four-armed one was a Nnaxan.
“The mindscramblers went down before we cracked any accounts,” cried the Nnaxan in a digital masked voice. “We have to reactivate—”
“Too late for that!” one human demanded, the digital mask not hiding her gender. “Just transmat us back to the ship before UComm…” The female trailed off as she and her cohorts finally noticed the near seven-foot Norad.
Without a word, the human space pirate in the cabin’s rear snapped up his pulse rifle menacingly. But the Kedri was too fast, despite his massive size. Combat reflexes honed since childhood kicked in, and the Kedri juked to one side, snapping up his left fist. Neuronanocytes in his mind synced to the suit, forming a sleek mini-blaster around his wrist gauntlet. With a thought, he shot off three bright bursts on heavy stun. The first hijacker took two in the chest and went flying. Norad dropped to a knee and jerked his head sideways, just missing a white-hot pulse blast from across another aisle. The other two hijackers opposite Norad had their pulse rifles cocked and unloaded blistering volley after volley.
The general passenger cabin erupted. Passengers were screaming, desperate to escape their seats.
Norad ducked for cover between seats in the middle aisle. The Kedri remained calm, a product of one too many battles. He had to end this firefight quickly, before it became a bloodbath. The Kedri picked up a disabled mindscrambler and tossed it at the Nnaxan space pirate. He whipped his pulse rifle around and blasted the sphere to dust motes. More screams erupted as panicked passengers ran for cover, blocking the Kedri’s line of fire. But instead of becoming useless cannon fodder, several swarmed the Nnaxan and dragged him down, their fists rising and falling.
Seeing that made Norad smirk. The last pirate standing looked on from her corner, panicked as she spoke desperately into an earcom. The Kedri rose like a viper and aimed his gauntlet blaster at her just as she spun around to defend herself.
Both their weapons barked. One missed.
A heartbeat later, the space pirate’s body shimmered and vanished. By the shocked noises from the other passengers, so did her two felled cohorts. Norad rose to his full towering height, breathing hard. That felt good, though battle was no longer as addictive as he once remembered. The Kedri was greeted by stares and gasps from his fellow passengers. Most had obviously never encountered an actual Kedri before. Fortunately, most were unharmed, though some sported minor burns from
stray hits during the blistering firefight. A gaggle of passengers gathered by the viewports on the right-hand side, some spouting in Standard Speak, “UComm scout ships just arrived! We’re safe!”
As if on cue, the autopiloted starliner lurched suddenly. Norad guessed that the space pirates’ interceptor tractor beam holding the vessel in place receded. As soon as it was free, the starliner made an emergency hyperspace jump, continuing for Ipsis. Immediately, Norad felt his heart leap with triumph, right as applause and gratitude from his fellow passengers engulfed the Kedri.
“Have you two decided?” Norad asked casually after returning to the cabin a little while later.
Xuvaal bristled. “We’ll confer with our council and—”
“Abssssolutely not,” Hinaa cut him off. “Your weaponsss are impressive and you ssssaved our vault accountsss. How ssssoon can you begin sssupplying usss?”
It worked. Norad resisted a victorious smile. As many of his species believed, pride was a poison that could route any near-victory. “Once you sign our agreement and make your initial payment, which I hope won’t be a recurring issue,” was his stoic reply.
Xuvaal opened his mouth to respond, but Hinaa silenced his counterpart with bared needle-like teeth. “You’ll have both by midday tomorrow.”
“Did I not say that we would profit from this relationship?” Norad brought his fists together and bowed. And to his surprise, the two Rothorids returned the Kedri greeting.
Thirty macroms later, the ship arrived at Ipsis Commerce Station, which orbited the enormous ivory and gold gas giant Ipsis.
ICOM was a massive tree-like structure, larger than most military starbases Norad had seen. Its four interconnected tube-like sections were dark green and gold in coloring, encircled by various rings and sported branch-offs to accommodate new stores, hotels and megabistro centers. ICOM was Norad’s preferred accommodation when visiting Union Space. The commerce station boasted a vast selection of Kedri cuisine and accoutrements, as well as proximity to an old contact whose presence…and body…he enjoyed.
But being the largest, most diversified commerce station in the Rhyne System meant being the most heavily visited. The spacelane traffic around ICOM, always an eyesore to Norad, would worsen in six weeks once this absurd Union-Imperium Trade Merge was finalized. That might jeopardize some of the Kedri’s current business ventures, which was why this trip held such importance. Norad needed to lock down potential clients now, before Union Space was flooded with Kedri technology and weaponry.
And there were other engagements that required his attention. But he’d worry about those after he’d taken care of his business ventures.
Officials from Union Command Security Services were waiting once the starliner arrived at one of ICOM’s civilian spaceports. All 101 passengers were meticulously questioned about the spacejacking incident, including Norad. He answered any questions with as much accuracy as he could provide. Apparently the space pirates had escaped in their unmarked interceptor ship, and UComm AeroFleet had yet to track down their whereabouts.
The Kedri couldn’t say that he was surprised…or disappointed. “I shot to kill, so no doubt two of their numbers are dead,” Norad replied to one question. And since they hadn’t analyzed a weaponized body suit like his before, the authorities had to take his word as fact.
After the fifteen macroms of questioning, the Kedri received a mild scolding for bringing his weaponized bodysuit onboard the flight, but sincere gratitude from UComm officials for protecting the other passengers. Apparently the injuries of those attacked were minor at best.
Well, the spacejacking had to look somewhat believable, Norad mulled to himself while his more recognizable weaponry was returned.
Once he’d cleared customs, a formality due to being a visitor from a foreign hyperpower, Norad exited the ICOM spaceport and took a gravlev tram to his hotel in the Miracle Sector. Only when safe and alone in a translifter heading for his room did Norad finally exhale in relief. The Kedri then made an encrypted call via his earcom. “I heard your mission was successful?”
His question was met with booming laughter. “Like those Union chutiyas could ever catch us. You close the deal?”
Norad allowed himself that victorious smile. “Indeed, Parsec. Your assistance, and that of Kashmere and Eikoh’s, was much appreciated.”
“Hey,” said the human he knew as Parsec Ishibashi, “you’re M24 for life, even if you leave us.”
“We miss you, Norad!” a Nnaxan voice bellowed in the background. Eikoh.
The Kedri missed those friends he still had at M24, but getting overly sentimental in public over emotional bonds was not the Kedri way. “Your methods were…unexpected.”
“Rothorids aren’t idiots,” Parsec stated. “We had to ensure they suspected no deception from you.”
“No doubt. How is Eikoh?” Norad recalled how badly those passengers had worked him over.
“Just some bumps and bruises,” the female human named Kashmere replied. “He’s a big boy.”
That relieved Norad greatly. “I’ll send over your percentages once I receive the Wrathorids’s first payment. And please be discreet with your commission.” Norad knew he played a dangerous game selling Imperium weaponry to a competing mercenary group, no matter how small. If any of the Kedri within M24 found out, it could mean his death, as well as those of his three long-time comrades.
“We know, we know,” Parsec laughed. “Discretion is our middle names, Norad!”
“Of course. Till next time.” Trickery was not a dish the Kedri served often or willingly. But given the plethora of known suppliers out there, his plunge into gunrunning hadn’t come without challenges.
Before his days as a soldier of fortune, Norad Gour had served in the Imperium Armed Forces with all the stereotypical wants of any battle-hungry Kedri: fight for the Imperium, reach the rank of Warmaster, a good clean death by way of combat, and a progeny to continue their bloodline. But events and politics beyond Norad’s control disrupted all of those goals. And once the Ferronos Sector War had concluded, it grew increasingly obvious that the Kedri Imperium’s glory days of conquering others with impunity were over.
After leaving the Imperial military, Norad spent seven profitable years with M24. The large and renowned mercenary group was known for its blend of Nnaxan, earthborn and Kedri members, as well as its ruthless effectiveness. Norad had gotten to war and whore to his heart’s content and rose quickly in the group’s ranks, only to finally tire of the constant battle a few months ago. That was a near-blasphemous sentiment amongst most Kedri and did not go over well with his Imperium brethren. Norad didn’t care. He needed a different path, one that could give him more than fleeting glory from battle, leading him to his current profession as an arms dealer.
And hopefully it leads me to the one I want to spend my life with.
He finally reached his suite, on the 816th floor of the 2500-story Miracle Living Sector, located within the second of ICOM’s massive cylinder superstructures. A retina and thumb scan granted the Kedri access to his room. The massive suite’s halolights brightened upon entry, revealing gunmetal grey walls, an open door that peeked into a massive bedroom with wall-sized viewports, and a dining area. Something on the floor caught Norad’s eye.
He took a few steps into the foyer, spotting a pile of clothing far too small and feminine to be his. The Kedri jerked his head up, noticing then the steady jets of the shower from his bathroom.
An uninvited guest.
Norad whipped out a dull grey H-4 Quickshot pulse pistol that looked small in his large hands and crept toward the bathroom with practiced stealth.
In the ceiling-high cylindrical bathing chamber was where Norad found his intruder: a petite female human, as naked as the stars were bright, earthborn by her sun-kissed complexion and the spun-gold hair spilling past her shoulders in sodden swaths. She stood with her head tilted back, eyes closed in relish as the chamber’s multiple hydrojets sprayed her clean.
&nbs
p; Frowning, Norad crept closer. The human seemed unaware of his approach or the pulse pistol he had aimed at her. The Kedri was close enough now to identify two of her tattoos: a Voton emblem of interlocked angled lines on the lower back, and a small, Earth-based icon on the upper left shoulder.
Norad’s heart stuttered. “You?” he blurted out, shock freezing him in place.
“Seven months and that’s the pulse pistol you greet me with?” the woman scolded in flawless Kedri Common Tongue.
This meeting was happening sooner than Norad had planned. He didn’t bother asking how she’d found his hotel or knew of his arrival on Ipsis. Espionage was her trade, her world. From the doorway, Norad could sense the shower water was near freezing, ideal for a Kedri but not remotely suitable for her species. Then again, the Kedri’s shock-addled brain recalled how extreme temperatures didn’t bother her like they did ‘normal’ earthborns. And she was anything but normal.
“Visiting Union Space without telling me?” the human asked with an air of mock offense. “Thought I meant something to you, Norad.” She still had her back to him, rubbing along the lush curves of her shapely yet fit body, concealing a tattoo encircling the appendage called a ‘belly button’—the Kedri Common Tongue symbol for hope. That was Norad’s favorite of her tattoos.
“More than you know,” the Kedri insisted, unable to ignore the stirring in his loins. “I planned on contacting you,” he cleared his throat, “after…securing new business.”
“Ah,” she shrugged, unconcerned. As icy water splashed down her in steady rivulets, she threaded her fingers leisurely through sopping blonde locks. “Soooo, you gonna stand there and shoot me?” The human finally turned toward Norad, with a gaze that teased and titillated. “Or come here and join me?”