Freelancing_The Earthborn

by Adair Hart

  Seth nodded and crooked his thumb. “I think so. C’mon.”

  They walked over to a small ship sitting out on the edge of the lot.

  Seth gestured at it as he walked around it. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but it has a condensed space drive, level-one replicator, reflective armor, heavy kinetic shielding, and a fusion-powered ion drive. More importantly, it has two private quarters.”

  Blake slapped Seth’s arm with the back of his hand. “The most critical part.” He bobbed his head around as he surveyed it. “Looks like the shuttle I used, except a bit bigger.”

  “Well … it has no stealth, at least what passes as stealth, so it’s not quite as functional. And if we got into a fight, it’s better if we run.”

  “So essentially a glorified transport,” said Blake.

  Seth raised two fingers. “One with two private quarters.”

  They both chuckled.

  Blake furrowed his eyebrows for a moment. “In that case, it’ll limit the type of contracts we can take. We’ll have to start small, but in time, we’ll get a bigger ship, and some extra crew.”

  “Speaking of contracts … What’s the plan there?”

  “Killikin,” said Blake. “I know you don’t like that place, but it’s one of the biggest gatherings of people with contracts who don’t want a digital trail.”

  Seth sighed. “Never been there, but I’ve heard the stories, and I’m sure Fredoria’s bad reputation will follow us. I always found it healthy to stay away from places like that, and I expect we’ll get in a fight. Well. You’ll get in a fight.”

  “I never start them, but I will end them.”

  “Of course you will,” said Seth. He nodded at the ship. “We good with this?”

  Blake slapped Seth on the back. “I trust your judgment. Since you’ll be flying it, pick whatever you’re comfortable with.”

  “Then this one it is,” said Seth. “It’s seventy grand. That leaves us thirty for ammo and weapons.”

  “You mean seventy for ammo and weapons. You kinda forgot your forty thousand contribution.”

  Seth smiled. “Oh, yeah, right.”

  Blake shook his head. “I’ma go get some ammo. Want anything other than that?”

  Seth rubbed his chin. “Not sure yet. I’d like to take a look after buying this.”

  “All right. I’ll see you there then.”

  Blake looked around the small cockpit as Seth piloted the ship. They had stocked up for the trip and were on their way to Killikin. There was enough room to walk to the exit hatch in the back, but other than that, it was just the cockpit and a hallway to move around in. The private quarters, right behind the cockpit, turned out to be a bed, a locker, and a shelf to store things. Beyond that was a general bathroom and a space to sit at a small table that had a matter replicator in the wall. There was an engine room, and various other rooms dedicated to ship maintenance, but they were small and cramped. It was definitely a step down from what he was used to, but if it did what it had to, he was okay with that.

  “Activating the condensed drive,” said Seth.

  Blake watched as the spiral on the large wraparound screen began to fill up. Condensed space travel always made him leery. He did not fully understand how a ship could pop out of one space and go to another where space was condensed. This allowed for fast travel, and the bigger the condensed space drive, the faster you could go. It had something to do with the shape of the field, and the power exerted on it. At least that was how it was explained to him.

  When the spiral filled, a glow appeared outside the ship.

  Blake noticed that the glow followed a curve, which he understood to be the shields interacting with the condensed space tunnel they had entered. They had already flown a bit away from Fredoria, and the sun in the distance dimmed. That was the aspect that made his skin crawl. Everything seemed like a fuzzy filter had been placed over it. Anything with large mass had to be skirted, but open space was a free-for-all.

  Seth tapped at the screen, causing the navigation charts to light up. Pressing where Killikin would be caused the ship to accelerate.

  Blake narrowed his eyes as they flew past the sun. He knew in normal space, it would have taken much longer.

  “Sit back and enjoy the ride. It’s about three light-years away, so probably about nine hours,” said Seth.

  Blake sighed. His ranger ship could do that in about seven and a half hours. He glanced at Seth. “We coulda taken a Kreagan transport.”

  “We could … but we would have had to wait an extra day. Not only that, but shaving a few hours isn’t worth five thousand credits. Just think about when we get a bigger ship with a better drive.”

  Blake nodded. “You do your pilot thing, I’ll do my nap thing.”

  “Have fun,” said Seth. “I’m gonna check out some of the sweet media from that cube.” He smiled. “Don’t worry, the rooms are soundproofed once sealed.”

  “Better be,” said Blake as he stood. When he got to his quarters, he noted there was barely enough room to sit on the bed and get his boots off. He could see traveling around like this would be somewhat challenging but figured it would only be for a few contracts. After slipping off his light body armor, he lay in bed, put his hands behind his head, and began to nod off. Sleeping like this shortened his longer sleep, which was due in a few months.

  Nine hours later, he fell out of bed as the ship trembled. He jumped up and slid back the door. “Seth! What the hell was that?”

  “Just a friendly greeting from one of the local mercs.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t worry. They knew our shields would hold. It was a weak shot. Not the first time this has happened to me. Besides, you wanted to come here, not me.”

  Blake harrumphed as he slipped on his body armor and boots and hustled up to his seat. The sound of reggae massaged his ears as he scanned the console. “Nice choice. Now where are these mercs?”

  “Gone already. We’re here,” said Seth, nodding forward.

  Blake looked out the window and saw the slime pit known as Killikin. It had been a while since he had been there, and although he knew this was where they had to start out, the earlier shot fired reminded him of what to expect. Bounty hunters, freelancers, justice hunters, mercs, vigilantes, and every type of criminal came here at some point. He just hoped it had not changed too much.

  “I’ve got clearance to land already,” said Seth.

  “I need to take a whiz. We gonna be stable?”

  “Have at it. It’s smooth sailing from here.”

  After thirty more minutes, they had landed. Various ships sat around them, and the area was packed with crews and the locals trying to hustle.

  Blake shook his head. “Killikin, what a dump.”

  “We’re in the right city, right?”

  “Yeah … I’ve been here before. We should plan on sleeping in the ship.”

  “Oh, c’mon, man. It ain’t that bad.” Seth gulped. “Is it?”

  Blake pointed out the window at a shakedown in progress. “Make sure you’re ready to use your pistols … at all times.”

  “Got it. So what’s the first stop?”

  “Gambunos. It’s a place for contractors and those with contracts to meet up. All we need to do is register and then hang out until we’re contacted. They also have some digital postings we can check out too,” said Blake.

  Seth nodded and shut down the ship. “Let’s roll.”

  As they moved off the lot and onto one of the main streets, two humanoid aliens approached them.

  Blake knew them to be Unherals, a thin humanoid race with buggy eyes, green skin, and chitin-like armor on their bodies. They wore grungy robes, but their walk and the antennae sticking out from the hoods were dead giveaways.

  One of them pushed his robe to the side, revealing a weapon. “Transfer your credits to us, Fredorian scum.”

  Blake laughed. “Do you know you’re talking to Blake Brown?”

  The Unherals too
k a step back.

  “This is how it works. One. I can kill you both. Two. You can try to fight me, and then I’ll kill you both. Three. You give us three hundred credits and I let you live.”

  The Unherals talked among themselves for a moment.

  Blake smiled as he tapped at his forearm, causing a screen to appear with a galactic unique identifier, known as a GUID, which resembled a string of random numbers and letters. “That’s our deposit account.” After a moment, he closed the screen and nodded at the Unherals. “It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

  The Unherals scattered.

  “Too easy,” said Blake.

  Blake found it interesting that for as long as he had been around Fredoria, everyone spoke Kreagan. Galactic translation devices were commonplace, and everyone had one, so even if a species did not speak Kreagan, as long as their language was mapped, it could still be understood. Not everything mapped correctly, though.

  As they continued to walk, Seth said, “What exactly did you do to earn that type of rep out here?”

  “I survived.”

  “Cut the shit, man. You being serious?”

  “You don’t play in this game and live as long as I have unless you’re damn good.”

  Seth sighed. “I have a feeling I’d be eaten alive out here without you.”

  Blake nodded. His thoughts wandered to the first time he met Seth. They both had been abducted by Seceltor slavers. Seth had watched as Blake drained all but one of the slavers. Although Seth would never know, Blake would have drunk everyone dry if the other slaves had not been caged. That was the penalty for going into bloodlust. They were rescued by Fredorian Rangers and taken to an Earthborn refugee city. Seth, being sixteen at the time, wanted no part of anything for a while but decided to learn to fly. He had been more impressed with the ships involved, rather than the rescue. Ever since that event, Blake often called Seth his abductee brother.

  When they reached Gambunos a half hour later, the familiar scent of food, drink, and shit caressed Blake’s nose. It reminded him of the many times he had been there. Although he was doing intelligence work at the time, he had come to appreciate what Gambunos offered. It was contracting for those seeking discretion.

  Seth wrinkled his nose. “Damn, this place stinks.”

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  “I guess.”

  Two burly reptilian-like humanoids stood outside the entrance. One of them hissed at Blake. “Blake Brown. No trouble, or I trouble.”

  Blake bared his fangs as he smiled. He knew them to be Kazarullians. Their planet had been enslaved and then freed, and they had entered the security field. He held two hands out in front of him while shaking his head. “Fellas, fellas. I’m never trouble.”

  “You fight. You bite.”

  Blake laughed as he dipped his head to the right. “As I told my friend here, I don’t start them … ,” he said, dipping his head to the other side, “but I do end them.”

  The Kazarullians growled and then waved them in.

  Once inside, Blake pointed to a table in the distance. “We can register and browse from there. They actually have some human food and drink replicator patterns here, but the replicators are by the bar. I usually just have the waiter get me a whiskey and bring it to the table.”

  Seth grimaced as they headed over. “No table replicators. That’s some old-school shit there. Yeah … I may get a drink, but definitely not interested in eating here.”

  “They have a level-three replicator. Much better than anything our ship can produce.”

  “I’ll live,” said Seth as he took a seat. He ran a finger across the table’s interface.

  Blake gestured forward. “I don’t think we’ll find any decent contracts there, but check if there are any simple find or retrieval ones. I have a contact in the area that makes those types of contracts trivial. Easy money.”

  Seth nodded as he focused on the changing screen on the table’s surface.

  After a few minutes, Seth shook his head. “Ain’t shit here.”

  “As I figured.”

  “So … we just … what? Wait now?”

  “Get yourself comfortable, my abductee brother,” said Blake as he eased back into the booth.

  “Well, then maybe I’ll try some of that whiskey.”

  “You won’t be disappointed.”

  “Better not be,” said Seth, chuckling as he fixed his gaze back at the screen.

  Over the next few hours, Seth began to yawn. Although he had taken a nap in the cockpit while Blake had slept, he knew he could fall asleep if he had to. Flying a freighter for twenty years had conditioned him to sleep when he could. The adrenaline pumping through him had kept him alert to this point. Gambunos looked like a place where you could get yourself killed fairly quickly. In the short time he had been there, he had seen several fights. One alien had its face shot point-blank. The shooter was hustled out of the area, and Blake had mentioned that the shooter would most likely be killed once outside due to violating neutral ground.

  As Seth studied the other contracts available, his attention focused on Blake tapping the table.

  “Incoming,” said Blake.

  Seth looked up and saw three Trags in light armor headed their way. He had had to deal with them before in his career, and usually on the flying-away-from end. He rested his hand on one of his heavy pistols while narrowing his eyes. His heartbeat thumped away as the Trags neared. They were not only physically imposing, but they had a smell that reminded him of rotting garbage.

  The Trags paused outside the booth. The lead one glared at Blake and in a deep, gravelly voice said, “Blake Brown. Hear you wasted Gaaulst’s crew.”

  Blake nodded. “I killed seven when they ambushed me. Got Gaaulst and had a roof dropped on the remaining two.”

  The Trags growled.

  “I’m surprised you heard about it already,” said Blake.

  The lead Trag licked his rough lips. “News travels fast, especially when you’re the bounty backup.”

  Blake tilted his head. “So you’re here to kill me then. Or at least attempt to. This is neutral ground, unless you want to change the rules.”

  The Trags laughed.

  “Not at all,” said the lead Trag. “We’re here to honor you for taking down one of the better groups out there. May your death be at our hands the next time we meet.”

  Seth gulped. He had never interacted with Trags before other than knowing what they did to the freighters they caught. The confident nature of Blake steadied Seth, and it blew his mind that Blake could not only deal with Trags, but relish the opportunity.

  Blake grinned as he raised his shot of whiskey. “And here’s to when I put a bullet in all three of you and then take a piss on your corpses.”

  The Trags nodded and walked off as Blake downed his shot.

  “You gotta be shitting me. That actually worked,” said Seth.

  “What? Avoiding a fight?”

  “Yeah. They looked like they were gonna kill us right here and now,” said Seth.

  Blake waved a hand dismissively. “Nah. If I apologized and begged for my life, yeah, then we mighta been attacked. Trags respect power. You show weakness, they’ll jump.”

  “Well … not all of us worked intelligence to know that. I just got the hell out whenever a Trag ship was in the same region. Never really stopped to chat with them. I’m guessing the next time we see them, they’re gonna attack.”

  “Don’t worry about them. Next time we see them, we’ll kill ’em. Simple as that.”

  Seth shook his head. “Still fearless after all these years.”

  “You know you like that about me.”

  Seth tapped the table. “Incoming.” He eyed the approaching tall, thin humanoid with enormous blue eyes on a bulbous head. The humanoid wore a robe with a belt that carried two side pistols. If he had to guess, it was male, but given what he knew of sex and aliens, it could be anything.

  Blake sat back and eyed the huma
noid.

  “You handled that situation well,” said the humanoid in a soft yet controlled voice. With a bow, he said, “You can call me Lawlrik. I have come to see about your availability.”

  Blake tilted his head. “We can only do small ones. Just starting out and all.”

  “You’re Blake Brown. I’ve heard of you,” said Lawlrik. “May I join you?”

  Blake scooted in toward Seth and gestured at the empty slot. “You’ve done your research. Slide on in.”

  “Seth Williams,” said Seth, raising a hand.

  Lawlrik nodded at Seth and then took a seat and eyed the surface. “Not finding much, are you?”

  “Not ones we would take,” said Seth. “I’m guessing you probably already figured that out, which is why you’re here.”

  Lawlrik smiled. “Of course, this is what I do. If you’re looking, I have a simple retrieval contract. One of our freighters was taken by an outlaw known as Alcarez.”

  Seth eyed Lawlrik. “Isn’t that something your local law enforcement would handle?”

  Blake shook his head while crooking a thumb at Lawlrik. “He’s Tansih. They rely on Kreagan enforcement and hire contractors for the rest. They’re also the founders of one of the bigger trade guilds. I’m guessing whatever was on that freighter is something they don’t want the Kreagans to know about.”

  Lawlrik glanced at Blake. “You’ve done your research.”

  “Intelligence was my area, not to mention I’ve had a few … run-ins with your guild,” said Blake. He waved a finger between himself and Seth. “We’ll take a look at what you got.”

  “Then it seems I came to the right place,” said Lawlrik. “You were right that our freighter had … sensitive cargo. Cargo that would require a level-seven replicator.”

  Seth nodded. He knew that was code for ship weapons. Replicators were classified by levels based on their functionality. The higher the number, the more complex the things it could create. The trade-off was that more elements and power were required. He knew that a level-four replicator was bigger than the size of their ship. Most small weapons and ammunition could be done with level two and up, but level seven usually meant the big weapons you would find on ships. Level eight and higher were usually for construction. He glanced at Lawlrik. “So you know who took it, and now you just need someone to take it back. How’d you know it was Alcarez?”