Empire's End: Episode 2: The Outpost

by JP Raymond

  Regardless, she’d hacked the feed in time to see three Graur and two humans emerge from Cataan’s Claw’s cargo shuttle, cross the landing bay, and head into the bowels of the station. With a few taps of her board, she could easily switch signals to each camera along their path.

  They were an easy quintet to keep track of. Two of the Graur were female – one black, one grey tabby. The other was a black male. The two humans were both black males – one bald, one with short hair. The picture was grainy, and the cameras couldn’t zoom in, so she was unable to see any further detail. But it didn’t matter. They were easy to spot, even in a crowd.

  The tabby Graur was in the lead. Since Gwen had scanned only two of the fierce cat-people when the ship approached the station, she surmised the tabby was a station regular taking the rest to someone who could sell them parts for their hyperdrive.

  Their trek took them deep into the heart of the station. Were hyperdrive parts not sold at any of the supply markets near the landing bay? Her police instincts told her this was no ordinary sale. The crew of Cataan’s Claw were headed for a meeting with someone illicit, someone most people didn’t do business with, at least not directly. Maybe they were buying more than repairs. Maybe they were negotiating a sale for Haneeta Mol. Why else would they need to meet with a crime lord?

  The quintet stopped at the end of a hall terminating in a door. The tabby stepped forward and tapped keys on a control panel to its right.

  A moment later, Gwen’s feed faded to black.

  “Oh, shit,” she said.

  She leaned forward and tapped commands furiously into her board. The image did not reappear. Frantically, she switched to other nearby cameras. The black screen was immediately filled with views of halls in the station’s interior. None of them showed the door at which the criminals had stopped.

  Gwen switched back to the original camera. Still black.

  “God damn it!” she swore. “Come on!”

  As if in answer to her appeal, the image suddenly faded back into view. The quintet was gone.

  “Oh, hell no,” she said.

  She tapped more commands, switching from camera to camera to camera – every possible location they could have gone. None showed her quarry. She tried to locate the camera inside the door. Nothing came up.

  She hammered her fist on her board in frustration. She couldn’t have lost them! They couldn’t have known she was watching them, could they?

  “Okay, okay,” she said. “This is no problem. I know where they went. How stupid do they think I am? They obviously went through that door.”

  Right. And whether they came out through it again or not, they had to get back to their ship to leave. They couldn’t get away from her.

  But what if that wasn’t their plan? What if they were buying another way off the station?

  “Shit! Think, Gwen!”

  She needed to calm down. There was no way off Sigba without her knowing. She just needed to relax and wait. They would reappear.

  And when they did, she would nail them.

  JAQUAN’S HAND HOVERED ABOVE THE BUTT of his beamer, prepared to draw at the first sign of trouble. When the large doors of the lift opened, he half-expected there to be an army of heavily armed fanatics waiting to take them prisoner or shoot them.

  Instead, he saw a large, oval room with bare, white, metal walls. Aside from a control panel with a single, glowing, yellow button on the far side of the room, it was completely empty.

  “This way,” Gadaar said, gesturing for them to exit the lift.

  “After you,” Rorgun replied.

  Gadaar smirked and then stepped out of the lift, crossing the floor to the control panel. She turned back and waited for them to join her.

  “Are you sure about this?” JaQuan said quietly to Rorgun.

  “No,” he replied.

  “I thought you trusted Mutakh Kairee,” Rischa sneered.

  “Trust doesn’t preclude caution,” Rorgun replied. “Especially after a long absence.”

  He stepped out of the lift. Alan followed, although he looked like he might be sick.

  JaQuan exchanged a look with Rischa. He shared all her misgivings. With a heavy sigh, he followed Alan into the room. Rischa came last.

  As soon as Rischa was through it, the lift door slid closed. She turned to it, then snapped her head back towards Gadaar, an accusatory glare fixed on her face. Instinctively, JaQuan gripped his pistol.

  “Relax,” Gadaar said with a laugh. “For God’s sake, you’re not in danger. At least you won’t be if you’re respectful.”

  She pushed the button on the control panel. It went from yellow to red. Gadaar crossed her arms. Several seconds ticked by.

  “Now what?” JaQuan asked.

  “Now, we wait,” she answered.

  “For what?” Rischa said.

  She was answered by a loud clank, followed by a rumbling. Then the entire room began slowly turning counterclockwise. As it rotated, the wall in front of them opened to reveal another chamber. This one was warmly appointed with wood walls, green carpeting, and a large desk, with a tree growing to its right. JaQuan couldn’t figure out how the tree could be alive. Based on its size, its root system should have been too large for the space in which it was planted.

  Behind the desk sat an old Graur with orange fur, a receding mane, and a lot of grey in his muzzle. He was covered in scars, and the claws on his fingers were yellow and worn.

  To his right was an enormous Mandran – taller than Lanaliel by at least half a foot and heavier by a hundred pounds. He had a golden hide with several white patches, including around both eyes. Black leather bands with patterns JaQuan didn’t recognize wrapped each upper arm, and a pair of golden horns adjoined by a black cord hung from his belt. He glared aggressively at them from gleaming, black eyes.

  “Rorgun Krisch,” the Graur said. “It has been a long time.”

  “It is a pleasure to see you again, Your Eminence,” Rorgun replied.

  “Tell me,” said the Graur JaQuan presumed was Mutakh Kairee, “are you still wasting your time following Kitekh Galesh around the galaxy?”

  “It’s not a waste of my time, Your Eminence,” Rorgun said. “But, yes, I am still in her service.”

  Kairee snorted disdainfully. He cast his gaze around the room, studying each person. JaQuan felt like a piece of meat as the green-eyed stare crawled over him, sizing him up.

  “I find that hard to believe, Rorgun,” Kairee said at last. “You come to me in dire need with a shipmate who clearly despises me and two . . . humans.”

  “What’s the matter with humans?” Alan said.

  JaQuan could have smacked him. He’d thought the same thing but antagonizing the leader of a terrorist group thought to be extinct was stupid.

  Kairee turned his attention to Alan and studied him silently. Rorgun kept his eyes trained on his old master. Rischa’s muscles coiled, poised to spring if necessary.

  “You don’t look stupid,” Kairee said. “And you can’t possibly be ignorant. Are you naïve?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Alan said.

  “You humans appeared in the galaxy as if by magic,” Kairee said. “As if God himself plucked you from your world and deposited you in ours. The consensus among the Keepers of the Faith was that you were the foretold Fourth Race. Many prominent senators disagreed, fearful of the prophecies that claimed the Fourth Race would destroy the Empire in fire and bloodshed before leading us all to a new golden age. Naturally, they were more concerned with the loss of their own power and privilege than with the fate of those who would perish in the Empire’s destruction, but that did not change the fact that they lobbied the Emperor to rule against you.

  “Acquineen III, corrupt and fearful both of your potential and of the Keepers, made a half-baked compromise, wherein humanity would receive partial citizenship for ten years until he could make a decision.

  “What’s wrong with humans, Mr. – What was your name?”

&
nbsp; “Alan Park.”

  “What’s wrong with humans, Mr. Park, is that they are destined to destroy the Empire,” Kairee finished.

  “You don’t know that, Your Eminence,” Rorgun said.

  “Don’t I?” Kairee countered.

  “Come on, Rorgun,” Gadaar said. “We predicted this fifteen, sixteen years ago.”

  “No, we predicted the prophecies were in imminent danger of coming true,” Rorgun said. “We begged the Emperor to change his ways.”

  “And then you staged a rebellion to try to force your insanity to be true,” Rischa said.

  “Watch your tongue,” the Mandran said, speaking for the first time. “You are here as a friend of Rorgun Krisch, and therefore as a friend of the Kwin Faan. But heresy and disrespect will not be tolerated.”

  JaQuan’s heart raced. This was rapidly devolving into a dick-measuring contest. No one had said shit about getting a Myollnar Crystal yet, and Rischa’s outrage and Kairee’s arrogance were going to turn this into a fight at the rate they were going.

  “I’m no friend of the Kwin Faan,” Rischa said.

  “Cool it, Rischa,” JaQuan said.

  She threw him a hateful glare but fell silent.

  “The Emperor is dead,” Kairee said. “There is no quorum on the Council of Nine. A successor cannot be chosen. This is the doom we foresaw.”

  “Now wait a second,” Alan said. “The question of human citizenship hasn’t been settled yet, but it’s not like we did this. We didn’t assassinate the Emperor or start a revolution.”

  “The question of human citizenship is immaterial,” Kairee said.

  “How do you figure that?” JaQuan said.

  “If human beings are the Fourth Race, the Empire is doomed, and there are no citizens at all,” Kairee answered.

  “And if you are not the Fourth Race, you have no right to citizenship in the first place,” the Mandran added.

  “But let’s face it,” Gadaar said. “You are the Fourth Race. Everybody knows it. It’s just that no one wants to admit it, particularly the people in power.

  “We predicted all this before humanity’s arrival. People didn’t want to believe it then, because no one wanted to think about everything they understood coming to an end. But it did, and here we are. The Empire is dead. We’re all just waiting to see how it actually falls.”

  No one spoke for several seconds. The weight of Gadaar’s words hung heavy in the air.

  “You know, this is all fascinating,” JaQuan said, breaking the silence. “But it doesn’t have shit to do with why we’re here.”

  “My pilot makes an excellent point, Your Eminence,” Rorgun said. “We need a Myollnar Crystal.”

  Kairee’s eyes grew open wide. He gave Rorgun one of his characteristic long stares.

  “Why?” he said at last.

  “Our ship fell under attack,” Rorgun said. “A beamer blast hit our hyperdrive just as we were making the jump to hyperspace. Our crystal was destroyed.”

  “And you weren’t torn into singularities by flying through hyperspace without a crystal?” Gadaar said, incredulity seizing her expression.

  “JaQuan returned us to normal space before we suffered that fate,” Rorgun said.

  All eyes fell on JaQuan. He did his best to look badass in the face of Kwin Faan scrutiny, but he wasn’t sure he pulled it off.

  “That’s a hell of a trick,” Gadaar said.

  “If you say so,” JaQuan replied.

  “Hmph,” the Mandran said. “False modesty is unbecoming.”

  JaQuan stared into those shiny, black eyes. He didn’t like this brute. Anyone who stood around glaring, throwing out non-verbal threats with their posture was a bully. He’d have loved to take this asshole down a peg.

  But they didn’t have the crystal yet.

  “If you say so,” JaQuan said again, unable to resist the urge to needle the behemoth.

  “Who attacked you?” Gadaar asked.

  “I’m not sure that’s important,” Rorgun said. “And even if it is, I’m not sure I’d be willing to tell you.”

  Another long silence fell over the room. Kairee ran a claw through his mane as he examined Rorgun.

  “A Myollnar Crystal is a premium item,” he said. “Acquiring it would be expensive.”

  “We’ve brought mining equipment to barter with,” Rorgun answered. “It’s all new. You should be able to resell it for a considerable profit.”

  “I’ve no need for more mining equipment, Rorgun,” Kairee said. “That is an easy commodity to acquire. I need something I can actually use.”

  “And what would that be?” JaQuan asked, unease bubbling up from his stomach again.

  Once again, Kairee didn’t reply right away. JaQuan wanted to leap across the desk and smash in his pretentious face. The bastard knew good and well what he wanted. But he pretended to think about it.

  “I need a favor,” Kairee pronounced.

  “No,” Rischa said.

  “Relax, Rischa,” Gadaar said. “You haven’t even heard what it is yet.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Rischa said, not taking her eyes off Kairee. “There is no service for the Kwin Faan that ends well for the contractor.”

  “Then feel free to leave,” the Mandran said. “I am sure you can find someone else to sell you a Myollnar Crystal. Somewhere.”

  “What’s the job?” JaQuan asked.

  Rischa, Alan, and Rorgun all turned to him in surprise. Alarm and anger warred for control of Rischa’s expression.

  “Don’t, JaQuan,” she said. “You don’t know what kind of people these are.”

  JaQuan gazed coolly at Kairee and his hitman. Rischa hadn’t been a black man living in America.

  “Actually,” he said, “I’ve got a really good idea what kind of people these are. What’s the job?”

  “A client of ours needs some merchandise, just as you do,” Kairee said. “His enemies know this. They also know we are the only supplier. Therefore, we are being watched. I have been unable to deliver the product, because my people are all known. If one of my couriers attempts delivery, they are ambushed.

  “I need someone who is not known to be working for me, someone who can make the delivery without being suspected. If you perform this service for me, I will give you your Myollnar Crystal.”

  JaQuan shook his head. Of course. The mob boss wanted them to be a pawn in a larger criminal enterprise.

  “Your Eminence—” Rorgun began.

  “Just what the hell is the ‘merchandise?’” JaQuan asked.

  “Does it matter?” Kairee said.

  “Yes,” Rischa and JaQuan said in unison.

  “It is a weapon,” the Mandran said. “An unusual and unique weapon.”

  “We are not going to be your greschked gunrunners!” Rischa shouted.

  “Rischa,” Rorgun said, his voice cool and soft, “perhaps you should wait for us on the lander.”

  Her head snapped sharply in his direction. JaQuan couldn’t see her expression, but he didn’t need to. Fury poured off her shoulders, dripped from her coiled muscles. He could well imagine the incredulity and the rage on her face.

  “Rorgun, are you insane?” Rischa said. “We cannot be trafficking arms on behalf of the Kwin Faan! Kitekh would never stand for this!”

  “We need a Myollnar Crystal!” Rorgun snapped, rounding on Rischa. “I don’t give a damn what your politics are! This is an old friend, a mentor of mine. He’s willing to trade me what we need in return for a simple service. So I’m going to do it. If you want to sit on the ship and wait for it all to be over, that’s fine. I won’t compel you to help. But I’m not going to listen to your insubordination for one more second. We’re doing this my way. That’s final.”

  A tense silence filled the room. Rorgun and Rischa glared at each other, both poised to spring should one of them decide to escalate the confrontation. Everyone else watched, waiting to see who would back down.

  “Actually, my old friend,” Kairee
said, “you have one thing wrong: You will not be doing anything.”

  Rorgun and Rischa both whirled in Kairee’s direction, their confrontation momentarily forgotten. JaQuan felt a new sense of dread pulse through him. He’d known there would be a catch. There always was.

  “What are you talking about, Mutakh?” Rorgun said, using his old master’s name for the first time.

  “You are a former member of the Kwin Faan,” Kairee answered. “Your ties to me could be known. I cannot risk you participating in the mission.

  “Likewise, your shipmate here is untrustworthy. She clearly hates our movement in general and me in particular. It would be beyond foolish for me to entrust her with this mission.”

  Kairee turned his attention to JaQuan and Alan. JaQuan could feel the noose tightening around his neck.

  “But your other companions are human,” the Kwin Faan leader said. “Not only have I never worked with humans before, my reputation suggests I despise them. They are therefore the perfect agents for the job.”

  “Oh, shit,” Alan said, his voice weak and low.

  Alan looked petrified. Rorgun was horrified. Rischa crossed her arms, and stared at Rorgun.

  “Fuck you, Kairee,” JaQuan said. “You expect us to buy this bullshit? Alan and I are the only ones on the whole station who can pull this job for you? We just got here three hours ago!

  “This is a setup. It’s some sort of a test for Rorgun, or maybe it’s punishment for him leaving your movement all those years ago.

  “Regardless, you’re fucking with us. I don’t believe for a second this is on the level.”

  The Mandran took one step forward and reached for the horns dangling from his belt. JaQuan’s hand fell to his beamer, and Rorgun moved to interpose himself.

  Kairee simply smiled and put up a hand to arrest his bodyguard. After a moment, the Mandran settled back into a relaxed stance, but he bored a hateful glare into JaQuan.