Into the Dark (Dark Universe Book 1)

by Jason Halstead

  “Hi,” Aden responded and upped the bid with a smile.

  Amber and Tosc glanced at each other and then back. “I’m beginning to think things made more sense before you came along,” Amber said to him. “Seph was a little flirty, but mostly no-nonsense. Twyf, on the other hand, practically threw herself on everyone.”

  Aden frowned. “That’s different?”

  Tosc snorted.

  Amber looked at Seph and had her stare matched. Seph shrugged. “He’s acting different. Until I know better, I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Different? From what?” Aden asked.

  “From other men,” Seph said. She leaned forward and pretended to whisper to Amber, “I think he likes other men.”

  Tosc burst out laughing.

  Seph turned to the red-faced Terran man beside her. “Friends tease each other, right?”

  He nodded. “Yes, yes some do.”

  She smiled. “Good.”

  “Friends?” Amber asked.

  Seph shrugged and took a drink of her shake.

  “Wrap it up,” Meshelle snapped. “Chuck’s getting the Uma set up and he’ll be busy taking on fuel and water. Amber, you’re with Garf, replenishing ammo. Seph and Aden, with me. Tosc, make yourself useful wherever.”

  “With you? What are we—”

  Meshelle shook her head. “Just be ready at the air lock. And armed.”

  Aden frowned and nodded.

  “Relax,” Seph reassured him. “It’s standard. She’s looking for intel.”

  “Intel? I’m no good with intel!”

  “No, but I am,” Seph said. “My guess is she wants you there for extra muscle.”

  Aden stiffed and turned to look for Meshelle. The doorway was closed; she’d already left to get herself ready. He nodded. “I can do that,” he said.

  “Just try to look big and mean,” Seph said. “Not so cute.”

  “Hey!”

  She smirked and finished her drink. “See you at the air lock.”

  Aden watched her put her cup in the washer and turn to head out of the galley. He turned back to Amber and Tosc. The Lermian smirked and stood up. “Find something to make all this wasted time flying around worth it,” he said before turning and leaving the two Terrans alone.

  “That was weird,” Aden muttered.

  Amber chuckled. “Not really. He’s a Lermian; they prize a good hunt over just about anything else. The one with the most trophies wins.”

  “That’s bizarre.”

  “To us, maybe,” she agreed. “How about you? How bizarre is what’s going on with you?”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “I watch. I see. Are you fucking both of them?”

  Aden choked on his drink and sprayed some of it out of his nose. He looked up, panting and trying to wipe the liquid off his face. “Both of who?” he mumbled.

  “The sisters. That’s kinky, you know. Starbirth! At the same time?”

  “What? That’s crazy! Seph would kick my ass if I did that.”

  “Why, because you’re fucking her?”

  “No!” he sputtered. “Absolutely not.”

  Amber watched him for a long moment, studying his face. She sighed and shook her head. “It’s a small ship, Aden. Things can get ugly fast.”

  Aden sighed. “What do I have to do to convince you guys that I’m here for the right reasons? I helped out when Meshelle was hit. I saved Seph. I’m trying to help protect our reputation and turn a bad deal into a good one. Where in that does it say I want things to get ugly?”

  “Nowhere,” the short-haired merc conceded. “But things have a way of going that way on their own.”

  “You’re impossible.” Aden sighed.

  Amber shrugged and climbed to her feet. “I’m also your first fuck on this ship. You’ll remember that no matter what else happens.”

  Aden was too stunned to do anything but watch her walk out of the lounge. She glanced back over her shoulder at him and winked. She walked out of the galley and left him sitting by himself. Twyf was on the bridge and, by his reckoning, he was running short on time.

  Aden tossed his cup in the cleaner and made his way to the armory. Seph walked out of the room as he walked towards it. He looked up and down her skintight jumper and tilted his head. “Are you packing?”

  “Always.”

  “I don’t—”

  “That’s the idea,” she said. “You’re going to want something big and scary.”

  “What, like a rifle or rocket launcher?”

  She laughed. “Not that big. You’re a big guy, though. Maybe not Lermian big, but still big. A large caliber pistol on your hip or chest would send the message Meshelle wants.”

  “They don’t let weapons on stations. Not without locks. Are we letting them lock us down?”

  “They only require locks after you leave the outer concourse. We rarely bother going inside.”

  “Amber did,” Aden said. “Last time, I mean. When we, uh, hooked up.”

  “Hooked up,” Seph repeated. She chuckled. “Everyone is so desperate to have sex. You make slaves of yourself for it.”

  “Slaves? I don’t know about that,” he mumbled. “I can go without it if I need to. Our bodies are built that way, though. We have a genetic desire to mate and reproduce, but the intelligence and ability to choose when we have children. Tassarians can’t be all that different.”

  Seph opened her mouth and then shut it. She nodded. “They aren’t.”

  “They aren’t? Not you aren’t?”

  She offered a thin smile. “I meant what I said.”

  Aden nodded. “You’ve had it rough, haven’t you?”

  She shrugged but didn’t answer.

  “I’d like to hear more some time. As a friend. Someone who could help you bear your pain.”

  She stared at him for a long moment before shaking her head. “There’s no pain.”

  Aden fought the urge to laugh. She was lying and it was obvious. “That’s good. If you ever want to though, don’t hesitate.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said and walked down the hall towards the air lock.

  Aden watched her go and then turned to find a pistol for himself. His thirteen millimeter seemed inadequate. He chuckled as he looked through the available sidearms and picked up the massive Terran pistol. It was a Smith & Wesson revolver modified to take the standard six millimeter cartridges that cartridge rifles like the Colson used. He ended up heading out with the Smith & Wesson strapped in a shoulder holster across his chest and his trusty Security Standard on his hip.

  “You’re late,” Meshelle growled when he walked up.

  “How? We’re not even docked yet,” Aden argued.

  “I beat you here—that makes you late,” she said.

  “I was late too,” Seph offered. “Give up—you can’t beat her.”

  Meshelle snorted and turned her back on them. She watched the air lock’s control panel until they heard the sound of the flexible conduit striking the side of the ship. Three minutes passed in silence until the display flashed. “Pressurized. Let’s go,” she announced.

  “What are we doing, exactly?” Aden asked as he followed the two women into the air lock.

  The door slid shut so the air lock could cycle. With no need to match pressure, the other door slid open and offered the long conduit up to the station’s lower concourse. Meshelle pushed off and led the way, using her shorter stature to her advantage and springing from one hold to the next. Seph followed behind and left Aden to fumble through the passage as best he could. When he reached the station’s air lock, Seph was fighting back a laugh at his expense. He scowled at her and looked away.

  “Okay, so now what?” Aden asked. “Surprises might be your thing, but they aren’t much fun for me when I’m trying to make sure I keep you guys safe.”

  Meshelle led the way into the air lock. While it cycled, she nodded to herself. “Every station has people with information. I want to know
why the Kesari are hung up on this crystal.”

  “It might just be Fluvulis,” Aden pointed out.

  “Maybe,” she agreed. “So then who are—were—these Ampytheans? Why haven’t we heard of them? Are they coreward? There’s a lot of black holes and other dangerous systems towards the middle of the galaxy, or at least that’s what we’ve been told. Seems like the Kesari were the ones telling us that.”

  “Ah! A conspiracy approach. Sounds fun.”

  “You’re making fun of me?” Meshelle asked.

  Aden couldn’t keep his smile off his face. “Only a little.”

  The Vagnosian snarled at him and turned away. “I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe, Terran.”

  “I believe you.”

  She glared at him for a long moment and then nodded. “Good. Stay near us and keep an eye on us. Make it obvious. Don’t speak unless spoken to. You’re the meat.”

  “Just here to look pretty,” Seph added.

  Aden snorted through his nose. “Not much chance of that, especially next to you two!”

  Meshelle raised an eyebrow. “Remember your place,” she said. “I don’t pay you to flatter me.”

  “So far you don’t pay me at all,” Aden pointed out.

  Seph smirked.

  “You owe me,” Meshelle said. “I got you out of a lousy job in the bowels of station life and gave you the chance to live your dream.”

  “Whoa!” Aden said. “I’m not complaining, just making a joke. I’m not going anywhere and I’m not unhappy. I’ve eaten your food and shot your guns. Breathed your air and used your armor. I get it—don’t worry.”

  Meshelle’s eyes narrowed. “Keep an eye on us,” she growled and spun around to head out of the air lock.

  Seph caught Aden’s eyes and shook her head. “Let it go,” she breathed. “Remember, Terran, actions over time.”

  Aden nodded. His only question was how much time would it take?

  Chapter 25

  The known races of the galaxy had too many differences to list. Genetics, education, religion, and anatomy were only the beginning of the many reasons each race could pick to dislike each other. What brought them together was a shared need to socialize. The curiosity of sharing experiences and learning about one another. And doing all of that while enjoying an alcoholic beverage.

  Aden used his skills he’d picked up working as a bouncer and looked around the cantina. One table had a group of four Pyranosians drinking and discussing something intently. At another table, a Quarnian was parked next to a table with a special tube running from his helmet into his drink. It was an unusual sight, given the fish-like lower body of the race and the fact that their suits had to contain water for them to breathe.

  A Terran woman caught his eye from the bar. She smiled and glanced down at an empty chair next to him. Aden turned away and hoped the heat he felt in his cheeks wasn’t obvious. He’d caught a few eyes since showing up. Eyes from women of many races. He’d never been that attractive before. Did wearing guns make him more desirable? Or was it the type of people who stayed in the dockings rings instead of the station’s core levels?

  Seph caught Aden’s eye and nodded behind him. He saw a Tassarian with a silver dress that had cutouts in the sides, front, and back. The bottom of the dress was even with the union of her legs. Her skin was painted with a darker silver bodywear spray. Her face, neck, and a plunging neckline in the bodywear revealed pale orange skin.

  Aden didn’t care about her, but he turned and followed her as she sauntered through the bar. She was carrying a tray with four smoking drinks on it. She delivered it to the table with reptilian Pyranosians and gave him the opportunity to pick out a Devikian with a silver streak in his fur sitting at a table by himself. Two other Devikians sat at a table next to his with drinks that had barely been touched.

  Aden turned back and saw Seph turning away. She looked across the bar and smiled at someone. She glanced away and then back in a classic double take. Aden found another person to check out and turned to see another Tassarian gesturing for her to come over. Aden had to stare to identify the androgynous-looking alien as a man. He was dressed in the latest style himself.

  Aden turned back in time to see Meshelle walking towards him. “Come on, Terran,” she hissed. “I need to speak to a Devikian named Tylva.”

  “Where’s Seph going?”

  “Keeping up the ruse.”

  “Ruse—what ruse?”

  “The one that keeps people guessing how many we have with us,” she said. “We’ve been marked by half the people in this place. The thing is, they don’t know how many of us there are.”

  Aden grunted and followed her to the Devikian’s table. She stopped and waited for him to look up at her. “You’re blocking my view,” he mumbled.

  Meshelle leaned forward and put her hands on the table. “What’s got you so interested?”

  He glanced down at her hands and then up to the shadows in the neck of her vest and then to her face. Both of the Devikians at the table next to his turned to watch. “I like to watch people. You should try it; you can learn things. All sorts of things.”

  Aden noted the two bodyguards were ready to leap to their feet. They both wore Predator pistols on their hips, about the most dangerous slug thrower a person could own for short range disagreements. He stepped to the side, putting himself between Meshelle and the bodyguards.

  “I hear that about you,” Meshelle said. “I’ve heard you’ve seen and heard a lot of things that most people might not know about.”

  He chuckled and placed both of his thick hands on the table. “Anyone can own a spaceship or a gun. Knowing the unknown—that is the only thing that has value anymore.”

  “That’s why I’m here. I want to know the unknown. How much?”

  “How much for how much?” he returned. “Make me an offer and tell me what you wish to know. Let me warn you, I don’t take well to insults.”

  Meshelle frowned. “I see. Is a thousand credits an insult?”

  “Not if you want to know the time of day,” he said. “What are you after, Vagnosian?”

  “I want to know about a forgotten race and a great war that made them that way. Ampytheans.”

  Tylva’s eyes narrowed. He glanced back and forth, searching the bar. He shook his head. “I’ve never heard of such a race. Where did you come by such a…peculiar name?”

  Meshelle stiffened and opened her mouth but Aden spoke before he could stop himself. “Didn’t you just say knowledge was the only thing that had any value?”

  Meshelle’s hair twitched and her head swung around to glare at him.

  The Devikian looked at Aden and huffed. “Terrans. Such a young race, yet so full of themselves. What could you possibly know that I don’t, Terran?”

  “We know the name Ampythean and how we came by it,” Aden said. “And that makes you interested. Maybe there’s something more than money we can exchange.”

  “That’s enough,” Meshelle growled at him.

  Tylva chuckled. “It’s no use. You can’t keep them on a leash; they make terrible pets. I’ll give you that one for free.”

  “That’s not something I need to learn,” Meshelle said. “And if you’ve no idea what I’m talking about, then we have no further need to discuss it.”

  Tylva glanced around the cantina again before sighing heavily. “As you said, they are, or were, an ancient race of beings that have since gone extinct. It is said that war and their primary star dying sealed their fate. Now tell me how you heard of them.”

  “Was the war with Criknids?” Meshelle asked. “Because that’s what we heard from a Kesari.”

  Tylva straightened and then leaned back in his chair. “Kesari? Why would a Kesari speak to you of such a thing?”

  Meshelle shook her head. “Answer my question first.”

  He smiled. “It was an internal war among their own empire.”

  “Does that mean the Criknids weren’t involved?”

  “O
h, they were very much involved,” he said.

  Meshelle frowned and glanced at Aden. He started to open his mouth but her gaze hardened and she looked back. “A Kesari told us all of this on our way to do a little treasure hunting for him. Then he double-crossed us and ran.”

  “I see, and just what sort of treasure was this?”

  Meshelle smiled. “That’s what we’re trying to find out.”

  “Oh, so he succeeded?”

  “Not exactly,” Meshelle corrected. “He left us stranded and tried to destroy our ship. He failed, so we tracked him down and took it back.”

  “This is very fascinating,” he said as he leaned forward again. “Do you have it with you?”

  Meshelle’s eyebrow rose in a look of disbelief

  Tylva chuckled. “I had to ask. I might know people who would be very interested in such an artifact.”

  “So you know what it is?” Aden blurted out.

  “No,” Tylva said, while ignoring the fact that the question came from Aden. “Only that if people are interested in such an object, I imagine I know others who would be as well. If you were to tell me more, I could offer more.”

  Aden caught some movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw Seph had moved and was standing and talking to the Tassarian. His back was to Aden, but Seph was looking at him. She glanced away and back at him several times. Enough for Aden to realize she was telling him something.

  He turned and surveyed the room, picking out the people who were pretending to be uninterested in what Aden and Meshelle were doing. He counted six of them, not including the two bodyguards, and every one of them was working their way to positions that would cut their escape off.

  “I wonder,” Meshelle said while Aden watched their web closing around them. “What sort of thing would draw such interest from the Kesari and the Criknids?”

  “They’re working together?” the Devikian asked in an attempt to act surprised.

  “I think we’ve learned enough,” Aden said. “And shared enough.”

  Meshelle glanced at him, her eyes narrowed in irritation. Her eyes shifted and glanced past him, spotting Seph. She nodded and turned back. “My Terran pet has a good point. I’d hate to overstep our position and get ourselves into trouble.”