“Watch yourself, Saturn,” Nix warned before explaining, “If you’d had any Rooks on you he would have lifted them.”
“Let’s keep moving,” Ju-Long said uncomfortably.
“Where are we going?” Saturn asked.
Nix pointed ahead and to the left down a side street.
“This way. Follow close.”
Limping around the corner on her mending leg, Saturn caught a glimpse of three scarcely clothed Dinari women sitting in the empty window frames of the second story of the building at the junction. Their sultry gazes enticed a number of passing Dinari men and even a few of the Ansarans as well. One of the Dinari merchants made a lewd gesture in their direction before being moved along by his friend. Some things never changed, Saturn thought. As they passed the brothel a whiff of floral oils filled Saturn’s nostrils and nearly made her gag with the sheer strength of them.
The next street was filled with the same upbeat music, but with added accompaniment. Street musicians pounded on makeshift drums. One Dinari teenager used his hands to manipulate what appeared to be a ball of electricity, only the intricate movement of his fingers created a sound not unlike a synthesizer. Ju-Long stopped for a moment to watch him but Nix hurried them on.
“You don’t want to stop,” Nix yelled to them over the din.
Saturn imagined it was another scam. Stop to listen to his music and it’ll cost you. Or perhaps, stop to listen to his music and his associate would rob you blind. Saturn had seen a lot of cons in her day. Hell, she’d even pulled a few of her own. Even so, she felt her back straighten and her eyes strain to take in every detail. No one was going to take her for a ride if she could help it.
Farther on up the street, the loud music began to die down and Saturn heard a happier, mellower tune. The path before them had run out and they faced the end of the side street. A metal section of wall ten meters high ran the perimeter of the outpost, where it merged with what Saturn imagined was incredibly thick glass to form the top of the dome. Separated from the other buildings by a few extra meters was a ramshackle bar, jazzy music protruding its walls and dual lights pointing to its grungy sign.
The End of the World.
Saturn pointed to the sign and asked, “Do they think they’re being clever?”
“Maybe,” Nix replied, “There are six other bars and clubs with the same name on this moon, but this one’s the oldest.”
“You don’t say,” Ju-Long commented, staring hesitantly through the foggy windows.
Nix continued, “It doesn’t look like much, but there isn’t a trader worth his caldamum who doesn’t stop here at least once on his way through Fortuna.”
Nix reached into the inside pocket of his roughly hewn brown cloak and retrieved a tied leather pouch. He undid the tanned drawstrings and reached in, pulling out two Ansaran Rooks and passing one each to Saturn and Ju-Long.
“Grab a drink at the bar and try not to get into any trouble.”
“What are you going to do?” Saturn asked him.
“Start asking questions.”
Nix pushed on the metal door, which swung easily on its hinge despite an irritating creak. Ju-Long followed him inside and made immediately for the bar. Saturn took one more look at the sign above the door, its curling letters painted on the plain metal in white and faded after years of neglect. She shook her head and followed her crewmates inside, slightly annoyed at taking a backseat despite the fact that she was nowhere near her own turf.
The interior was larger than she anticipated and most of the tables were occupied. The building appeared to be a plop and drop job, what amounted to a very large cargo container which was transported and then left at the outpost to be used as housing. The Martian Colonies used the same concept to be more efficient in the early days. The walls and floors were metal and the bulkheads were meant to stand up to pressure far greater than the moon would necessitate. Saturn stopped near one of the bulkheads and read the Dinari glyphs: 1071 – Paragon.
Paragon, Saturn thought. Ironic.
The Dinari band stopped playing their glitzy song and several pairs of eyes drifted in her direction. Moments later, the band began to play a ballad of sorts. One of them picked up a seven-stringed instrument with a high and bright sound, using multiple claws to play an intricate melody. One by one the patrons returned to their drinking, gambling, and hushed conversations. Overall it was a far quieter establishment than the places the crew had passed along the way, but loud enough that no one particular conversation was distinguishable above the others.
Tables were nudged into every nook and behind every bulkhead in an attempt to create the illusion of privacy. Toward the back, several brightly-colored wheels spun and gamblers tried to throw small marbles or stones through holes just large enough to fit the little balls. In between each throw the gamblers flipped circular cards and rolled a die. Occasionally there was a cheer from several onlookers, though Saturn couldn’t discern any set of rules from afar. It appeared to be a very complicated game.
She caught sight of Ju-Long’s broad back at the bar and she limped over to join him, finding herself placing a hand over the bandage on her leg for comfort. Ju-Long’s long-sleeved leather shirt was stretched in places, making it clear the shirt was hardly tailored for his muscular frame. Ju-Long had already ordered an ale and taken a sip. The brown liquid was tinged with bits of blue. Saturn hoped it was just a play of the light.
The Dinari Bartender wore a long white frock which accentuated her curves. She was walking past when she noticed Saturn. The Dinari pointed in her direction.
“What does the Outsider drink?”
“Try the ale,” Ju-Long suggested.
The bartender agreed with her raspy voice, “The Coressan Ale is fresh. Just received a shipment.”
The bartender had the air of someone who had smoked cigarettes continuously for countless years. Her face was weathered and gave the impression that she was much older than she was in truth.
“That’ll be fine,” Saturn replied.
As the bartender poured her ale into a tall square glass, her eyes examined Saturn closely.
“Few who come through those doors have ever seen a human before,” she observed, then after a pause continued, “Perhaps fewer would want to again.”
The bartender slid the frothy ale across the metal bar top to Saturn with little grace, drops of the liquid sloshing gratuitously over the sides. The Dinari woman stood with one hand on her hip expectantly. Saturn placed her Rook on top of the bar without bothering to slide it closer to the bartender. She sighed and stood on her toes, reaching across to gather the coin and then shoved it down a hole in the bar to a collection tin below where it happily clinked against many other Ansaran Rooks.
“What Dura is trying to say,” Ju-Long began tactfully, “Is that we’ve made an impression on people.”
The bartender regarded Ju-Long and smiled.
“You’ve certainly impressed me,” she rasped, “A champion of the tournament is no small thing.”
She pointed to Saturn and said, “This one, however.”
Dura sized her up and continued, “I know nothing of this one. On Fortuna respect is not given for nothing. You must earn it.”
The Dinari walked off to help another customer and Saturn regarded Ju-Long questioningly.
“What the hell was that?”
He held up his Rook and smiled.
“That was me drinking for free in yet another bar.”
29
“It’s been half an hour, where is he?”
Saturn paced in front of the bar, limping along as best she could, while Ju-Long sipped on his second beer. Only blue-white froth remained on the edges of her square glass, beginning to dissipate as the bubbles slowly slid down the inside. Her mother used to tell her when the froth stuck to the glass, that was the mark of a good beer. Saturn hated admitting when she was right.
“Relax, he’s probably just catching up with an old friend or something.”
&nb
sp; The bar was small enough that Saturn felt she should have seen their crewmate at some point. He’d slipped away toward the back when they first entered and hadn’t been seen again. After what Nix was saying about Fortuna, that had her worried.
“You know I don’t like riding the bench.”
“We’ve been holed up in that ship for weeks, don’t you want to get out and stretch your legs?”
Ju-Long’s eyes drifted to Saturn’s still-mending leg and added, “Sorry, too soon?”
Saturn rolled her eyes. Of all the humans to be stranded with halfway across the galaxy, she thought, it had to be Ju-Long. Several months ago she might have hit him for his comment, but he had an odd way of charming his way through life. Saturn found it hard to stay angry for long when he used that big dumb smile. Apparently the same went for everyone else.
“If Nix isn’t back in two minutes I’m going to—”
“Stir up trouble?” Ju-Long asked rhetorically.
“Sounds about right,” a voice said from behind them.
Saturn turned and crossed her arms, recognizing the voice.
“And where the hell have you been?”
Nix came closer and with a lowered voice said, “Come with me, there’s someone I want you to meet.”
•
The back room of The End of the World was attached to the main building in a modular fashion, though half the size of the primary bar and far more claustrophobic in its layout. There were only four tables in the back, each cordoned off with privacy screens. Saturn could see two pairs of feet under the farthest screen and raised voices arguing over a late payment. The voices grew louder until Saturn saw a red light caress the ceiling and heard the familiar crack and sizzle of a laser blast. The screen slid aside and a shrouded Dinari holstered his weapon, striding past them angrily. Saturn watched him go and then looked around the corner to see the slumped body of a Dinari merchant, laser pistol still gripped tightly in his clawed hand.
“Come on,” Nix said flatly, disregarding the scene.
Saturn and Ju-Long shared a prolonged glance and then followed him to the booth opposite the recently deceased Dinari. A man sat facing them. At least, Saturn imagined it was a man, though every bit of skin was covered. By the stranger’s broad chest and thick neck, she imagined it was indeed a man. Rough black material covered his entire body and matched his short, tapering cape. His entire head was shrouded by the dark wrappings. Black lenses with tiny pinpricks latticed in covered his eyes, a yellow glow protruding the dark orbs. Leaned against the wall next to him was the largest laser rifle Saturn had ever seen. It was the very picture of violence; blocky, sharp lines, and well-used.
Nix slid across the long bench seat first, gesturing for Saturn and Ju-Long to follow. Saturn carefully found her way to the middle, keeping her stiff leg as straight as possible. Her eyes never left the stranger and her hand remained glued to the laser pistol on her hip. Ju-Long sat on the edge of the bench with his elbows on the table, apparently unfazed by the man’s strange dress and appearance, or else projecting the confidence two beers invariably brings.
“Meet Misra Vanek,” Nix told the crew, then addressed the stranger, “Misra, this is Saturn Vera and Ju-Long Ma of Earth.”
“Earth,” the stranger parroted with his gravelly voice, clearly intrigued. “You’re a long way from home...surely.”
Saturn’s index finger grazed over the trigger of her weapon and hung there cautiously, the tip of the barrel pointed in the direction of the shadowy man.
“Nix,” Saturn began, eyes still focused on the man’s black wraps which obstructed every bit of his skin, “I wasn’t aware you had such...interesting friends.”
Nix replied, “We’ve only just met, though his reputation is known in this region.”
“What reputation is that?” Ju-Long asked.
“The kind you don’t discuss in public,” Misra snapped.
“Let’s call him a fixer,” Nix hedged, looking to Misra for approval.
He gave a curt nod and tightened the black leather gloves covering his long fingers. Odd, Saturn thought while looking at his hands. No self-respecting Dinari would trim their claws back so short, and his fingers didn’t appear to bulge at the tips from any added length. Could he be Ansaran?
“Nix has informed me of your situation,” Misra’s gruff voice told them. “I think I can help.”
“What’s it going to cost us?” Saturn asked.
“Straight to the point, I like that.”
Misra was silent a moment as he regarded Saturn and Ju-Long. Finally, he returned his gaze to Nix and replied, “Fact is, this won’t cost you a thing. Our interests align.”
“We cannot accept,” Nix said quickly while waving his hands, his eyes bulging out of his head.
Misra cocked his head to his right. The wide strips of cloth which coiled around his body like so many snakes curled with it, emphasizing his displeasure.
“It’s not wise to offend me, Nix.”
“I meant no disrespect,” Nix said hastily before clarifying, “As far as I know The Order of Katala has never offered their services for free.”
“They do when this Death Wish character is taking away all their business.”
“Sorry, Order of Katala?” Ju-Long asked, “Mind filling us in?”
Nix opened his mouth for a moment and then closed it once more, looking to Misra for assistance.
Misra replied, “You humans are a curious bunch. You never seen the robes of my order?”
Ju-Long nodded, causing Saturn to break her eye contact with Misra in surprise.
“Once,” Ju-Long replied, “At the Tournament of Fists. In the crowd.”
“A brother scouting for talent no doubt.”
“I never got an invite,” Ju-Long said, only half-joking.
“The Order exists for a reason; to protect the interests of this entire system. A space-faring civilization which has lasted thirty thousand years doesn’t do so without a push or shove here and there.”
“What about The Long War?” Saturn retorted. “Doesn’t seem like that helped the system.”
“You speak of things you know nothing about, Human. Do you want my help or not?”
Saturn looked to Ju-Long and then Nix, who nodded back to her insistently.
“Fine,” she said at last. “What’s the plan then?”
30
“Well I don’t care. I just don’t trust him.”
Saturn paced the cargo bay of The Garuda, limping as she did, while Nix sat on the edge of a yellow crate tapping his bare foot against the metal grates. Nix was hesitant about it himself. The Order of Katala was essentially an assassin’s guild. They’d existed in one form or another for millennia, supposedly protecting the interests of the entire solar system. Rumor had it that a member of the order took out the leader of the Kraven at the time of the great exodus, leading directly to the banishment of their species from Ansara while there was a vacuum of power. Nix never knew who decided what was right for the system, but Elder Bartle had always held them in a sort of cautious esteem, respecting their work while fearing their potential.
What had Nix the most worried was that he wouldn’t take payment. In his experience there was no such thing as free. Their order was small, maybe two dozen in total, but their impact was undeniable. As such, most intelligent Dinari avoided them entirely. Better to not be on their radar one way or the other. Respect them as a force of nature and get on with living.
“You’re right not to,” Nix replied. “The owner of The End of the World put us in touch. I trust Sef about as much as I trust Misra. Keep your eyes open and your trigger finger frosty.”
Saturn stopped her pacing when her injured leg began to cramp up from all the walking.
“We’re just going to follow him down there?” Saturn asked, her voice twinging with the pain.
“His contact at the Ansaran communications relay on Rumani said he saw an unusual energy fluctuation on his sensors near the Minami Range. It�
�s worth checking out.”
Saturn stretched her leg and nodded.
“I guess we’ll see.”
Nix rose from the crate and used a claw to gesture toward the cockpit.
“We better join the others, Misra will want to rendezvous in orbit shortly.”
•
Astrid triggered the engines and The Garuda lifted off from the landing platform. She increased the power, sliding the accelerator lever away from her and guiding the ship to her right, ascending through the atmosphere. Nix sat in the co-pilot’s seat, watching her every move and analyzing. Once they’d reached orbit around the fourteenth moon Nix calmly nodded his approval.
“You’re getting better,” he observed.
“Thanks. Taking off is the easy part.”
Nix brought up a hologram of the Rumani region and identified Misra’s ship in a similar orbit.
“Bring us closer but maintain a safe distance,” Nix advised.
“What does that mean?” Ju-Long asked from the seat directly behind Nix.
“Just, show that we’re following him, but don’t get too close.”
“You expecting trouble?” Astrid asked.
Saturn chimed in, “Just a precaution.”
The targeting console lit up, a set of coordinates scrolling past. Moments later Misra’s ship broke the moon’s orbit and set a course for Rumani. Nix pointed out the window at the faint blue glow of his engines in the distance.
“There he is. Inputting coordinates.”
Astrid let the autopilot take over and removed her arm from the copper circle which had tightened around her forearm, sensing her intentions.
She asked, “Nix, what’s Rumani like?”
“Mountainous. There are three colonies which were once separated, but have grown together into one colony over the last several centuries. They call it the Tri-Colonies. Not very clever, but there it is. There are some grasslands and one major ocean, but the tectonic plates have created one gigantic landmass and mountains high as the eye can see. Most of the planet is still wild. Few venture outside the safe zone.”
The Lost Corsair (The Corsair Uprising Space Opera Series Book 4) Page 12
