by Tripp Ellis
Malik finished off the last of the arthropods. Nearly a dozen were either dead, or writhing in the sand on their way to death.
Malik rushed to check on Saaja. She was alive, but barely. The spikes of one of the claws had punctured her lung. Her blood was flowing out onto the sand and filling her lungs with fluid. She had heart palpitations. She was gurgling for breath. Saaja had so much venom in her system, her autonomic nervous system was shutting down as well.
Malik put pressure on her wound, trying to stop the bleeding. He had the look of abject terror on his face. His black eyes gazed upon Saaja with worry. Walker could tell he cared deeply for her. They were probably more than just crew mates.
“You need to drain the fluid from her chest,” Walker yelled.
Malik was in such a state of panic that he was almost paralyzed himself. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Get this bug off of me.” Walker’s voice groaned as he tried in vein to push the carcass aside.
Malik stayed with Saaja, ignoring Walker.
“Get this bug off of me, or she is going to die.”
25
SLADE
“Isn’t she just a peach?” the warden said.
Slade was on display in the Warden’s office. Her hands were cuffed behind her back.
Pemberton and the two guards were there. Another man was sizing her up. He was maybe 40, about 6 feet tall, with dark hair. He hadn’t shaved in a few days. He wore an old-school leather flight jacket and aviator sunglasses.
He wasn’t a prison official. He didn’t have anything to do with the Department of Corrections. He was with a man of an alien species, and a woman. The man had green skin and wide, fish-like eyes. He was probably Alfluvian, but there was something different about him.
They all had empty holsters. No outside weapons were allowed in the prison.
“She’s alright,” the man said, sounding disappointed. “You got anything better.”
Slade clenched her jaw. She knew exactly what this man was. He was a trafficker. He was looking at merchandise, and he was negotiating price.
The first rule of negotiation is to never act interested. If you want to get the price down, you find something wrong with the merchandise. You’ve got a better deal just around the corner. Make the seller insecure and he’ll come down off of his ask price. You don’t need to buy what he’s selling.
“Son, it doesn’t come any better than this,” the warden said. “Not in here.”
That sleaze ball of a warden was selling female prisoners to the highest bidder. That’s why the prison population didn’t match up to the books. That’s why there were hardly any women on Alpha Ceti 7.
The man in the aviator sunglasses grabbed Slade’s jaw and looked over her face from side to side. Slade jerked away.
“Feisty.” He turned around and faced the warden. “I don’t know, Carson. She looks like trouble. And she’s got a busted lip.”
Warden Carson smiled. “The lip will heal.”
“She’s got a chipped tooth.”
“Minor cosmetic damage.” Carson shrugged.
“I have a very demanding clientele. If I show up with sub-par material, Little Nicky is not going to be happy.”
Slade’s eyes went wide. Sub-par? Who the fuck is this guy?
“I’ll give you 45,000 credits, tops.”
“Logan, you insult me,” Carson said. “Nothing less than 75,000.”
“Are you high? You must be smoking that Cetian herb.”
Slade clenched her jaw.
“I can go 55,000,” Logan said. “That’s it.”
“65,000. That’s as low as I can go. You aren’t the only trader in the system, you know.”
“55,000 untraceable credits. That’s my final offer.” Logan folded his arms and eyed Carson.
Carson’s eyes narrowed. Then he sighed. “Deal. But I’m getting the short end of the stick here.”
Logan smiled and shook Carson’s hand. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
The woman with Logan hefted a briefcase onto Carson’s desk. Her name was Mia. She flicked open the latches, lifted the lid, and turned the case to face Carson.
His eyes lit up with glee.
“It’s all there,” Logan said. “Count it.”
“No need,” Carson said. “If you’re short, I’ll find you, and bring you back here to rot.” He grinned.
Logan rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the hospitality, but we need to be going.”
Logan grabbed Slade’s arm. She jerked away.
“I’m already beginning to think I paid too much for you,” Logan said.
“Fuck you,” said Slade.
“Relax, honey,” Logan said. “Where you’re going is much nicer than here.”
“I am not your honey.”
“You are now.” He had a slight smirk on his face.
Slade glared at him. But anywhere was better than Alpha Ceti 7. She knew she’d have a better chance of escape outside the prison.
“Logan, the cuff’s please,” Carson said.
Pemberton released Slade. For a moment, she thought about fighting her way out. Planting a stiletto heel in Carson’s crotch would have been fun, but it wasn’t a fight she could win. There were too many of them. And Pemberton, and the guards, had guns.
Mia slapped another set of restraints around Slade’s wrists. Logan grabbed her arm and escorted her to the hangar bay.
His ship was an X-377 Scarab—a mid size, long range, light armored, multi-role vessel. It could accommodate a total of 8, including crew, and had a small cargo hold. They were popular among smugglers, private transport companies, and the ultra wealthy. No billionaire’s space dock was complete without a Scarab.
It was a good looking ship—sleek and fast. It was fitted with two, 30mm guns, both fore and aft. A dozen, armor piercing, Spitfire missiles kept most of the hijackers away. The Scarabs usually weren’t carrying enough goods to be worth messing with anyway. They zipped across the galaxy, mostly unnoticed.
Every now and then, the UPDF might harass an unregistered Scarab that they came across. But the UPDF’s primary objective wasn’t to bust drug smugglers, or human traffickers—that fell under the jurisdiction of the Drug Enforcement Corps (DEC), the Planetary Criminal Investigative Service (PCIS), or the Customs and Planetary Protection Agency (CPPA). None of which had the resources to comb the galaxy and intercept the plethora of ships involved in the illegal space trade.
Deep space was the Wild West. And Logan was the equivalent of a cattle rustler.
Stenciled on the side of the craft was the fading and weathered callsign: SS AURORA.
Logan marched Slade up the loading ramp, and escorted her to one of the cabins. It was nicer than her prison cell, but she wasn’t exactly looking forward to being locked in here either.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked.
“Vega Draconis.”
Slade cringed. Vega Draconis was a den of iniquity. It was a colony on the outer reaches that was left to its own devices. It was so far from New Earth, it rarely merited any attention. The PCIS and DEC didn’t usually bother with it. It was one of those places that even cops didn’t like to go.
Vega Draconis was a popular tourist destination site for those looking for illicit fun. The planet’s official tourist motto was: Adventure Awaits You on Vega Draconis. The unofficial motto was: What happens on Vega Draconis didn’t really happen—and if it did, you can’t prove it.
“You seem like a smart woman,” Logan said. “Things will go a lot better for you if you just comply. You might even have a little fun.”
He had no idea who he was talking to. Compliance wasn’t one of Slade’s strong points.
“You’re not going to give me any trouble, are you?” he asked.
“Do I look like trouble to you,” Slade said, innocently.
Logan lifted an eyebrow. “You look like a big, heaping handful of it.”
“How about taking these cuffs off?” She batted h
er eyelashes at him, seductively.
“Not a chance.”
Her face tensed. “You realize we are about to be in the middle of another war,” Slade said.
“Isn’t there always a war going on somewhere?”
“Another Verge War.”
He arched an eyebrow at her. “Okay, so, you’re one of those conspiracy wackos.”
“Go ahead. Ignore me. It doesn’t change the fact that the Verge are going to retaliate.”
“Nobody has seen the Verge for 25 years, lady.”
His condescending tone grated on her nerves. “I have.”
“Bullshit.”
“We destroyed an entire armada on their way to attack New Earth.”
“Even more bullshit.”
Slade gritted her teeth and huffed.
“Even if what you say is true, what do I care? It doesn’t affect me,” Logan said.
“Who are you going to sell your product to if New Earth and all of the colonies are destroyed?”
“Save it, sweetheart. I paid good money for you. And I’m going to sell you for even better money. Anything else doesn’t concern me. So feel free to ramble on about your crusade and your prophecies of doom in the confines of your own room.” He shoved her inside and sealed the hatch.
Slade kicked the hatch in frustration. “Can I get something to eat?” She hadn’t had anything to eat since Pemberton shoved her in the pit.
There was no response.
A few moments later, she felt the room warble, and her stomach twisted up as the ship made the jump into slide-space.
There was one good thing that came out of her encounter with the Saarkturians. She no longer had to worry about the slide-space induced degenerative genetic disease. But Vega Draconis was enough to keep her mind occupied with worry for the rest of the journey.
26
WALKER
Malik heaved the heavy bug, and Walker rolled out from under its carcass. His legs were practically numb from being impinged. He staggered toward Saaja.
“I need a small tube,” Walker said.
Malik looked at him like he was crazy.
“Blood is filling her chest cavity and collapsing her lungs. Don’t they teach you guys how to give first aid in the field?”
Malik grimaced. It took more soldiers to care for the wounded than the dead. The Verge felt it was a waste of resources on the battlefield. They didn’t train their troops extensively in first-aid. The Verge society was more of a collective. The individual didn’t matter.
Walker knelt beside Saaja. “Help me take off her armor.”
They unlatched her chest plate and removed it.
“Get me a tube and a first aid kit,” Walker commanded.
Malik dashed to the ship and returned a moment later with a small piece of tubing. “This is all I have. It’s a spare hydraulic line.”
Walker took it from him. It wasn’t the cleanest thing in the world, but it would have to do.
“Keep pressure on that wound.”
Malik did as Walker commanded.
Walker took his tactical sword and cut through Saaja’s shirt. Then he took the tip of the blade and lacerated her torso between one of her ribs. Red blood oozed out from her milky white skin.
“What are you doing?” Malik asked, alarmed.
“Thoracostomy.”
The term meant nothing to Malik.
Walker cut through her fascia and muscle and penetrated her thoracic cavity. Then he fed the hydraulic tube into her chest and blood began to drain through it.
“Do you know CPR?”
Malik shook his head.
Walker took over and placed his palms over Saaja’s chest. He continuously pumped her chest, resuscitating her. After a moment she coughed up blood. It spewed out of her mouth onto the sand. She gasped for air.
“In the kit there should be an expandable polymer wound healing gel. Find it.”
Malik rummaged through the first-aid kit. He tossed the gel packet to Walker. He applied it to Saaja’s wound. The gel expanded to fill the cavity. It was much like the GS gel that the UPDF had. An expandable biopolymer foam, with regenerative compounds. It was great for plugging puncture wounds. Though, the Saarkturian version seemed more advanced.
Walker rolled Saaja over and removed her backplate. Then he applied the wound sealing gel to the puncture wound on her back. The gel contained an antibiotic, but Walker rummaged through the first aid kit to find an antibiotic injection that would work systemically.
Saaja was breathing, but she still couldn’t move. It would be some time before the venom wore off.
“Just hang in there, you’re going to be okay,” Malik said in a comforting voice. He gently touched her face. Saaja nodded.
“Let’s get her back to the ship,” Walker said.
The two men carried her back to the Phantom. Walker found a painkiller in the first aid kit and gave it to Saaja. From his previous experience with Saarkturian regenerative compounds, he knew they worked quickly. But this was an extensive injury, and he wasn’t sure how long Saaja’s recovery period would be. If she did recover at all.
“How do you feel?” Walker asked.
“I don’t feel anything after that shot you gave me,” she said.
“That’s the way it’s supposed to be. You let me know when it starts to wear off.”
She nodded. “I never thought I’d thank a human.”
“We’re not all bad,” Walker said. “Get some rest.”
Malik was thankful, even though he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He held Saaja’s hand and tried to comfort her. The pain medication had a sedative effect, and Saaja dozed off quickly.
“You seem to care for her a great deal,” Walker said.
“We are to be mated. Unlike humans, Saarkturians mate for life.”
“Some humans mate for life. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out, no matter how much you want it to.”
“Saaja and I have always been destined to be together. If she dies, it will be the end of my lineage.” Malik gazed at Saaja with love and concern. Walker could see in his eyes that she was the most important thing in the universe to him.
“I’ll do my best to keep her alive, you have my word.”
“It seems like you’ve had a lot of practice with this type of thing,” Malik said.
Walker nodded. “Too much. It seems like every living thing in the universe tries to kill each other, at some point.”
Malik agreed.
“What’s wrong with your ship?” Walker asked.
“There’s a short in the power cell. I repaired most of the damage to the starboard engine. But I can’t maintain continuous power. We’d never make escape velocity. I don’t think we’d make it a few hundred meters without falling out of the sky.”
“Perhaps we can come to some kind of arrangement?”
“What type of arrangement?”
“A mutually beneficial one. We agree to work together to get off this planet. Then we can go our separate ways.”
Malik pondered this for a moment.
“The power cell on my shuttle is fully functional,” Walker said. “It’s two days from here. We grab it, come back, and get off this rock.”
Malik’s eyes narrowed. “Then what?”
“You drop me off at the nearest outpost, or colony.”
“If we drop you off at a colony, or an outpost, we’ll be shot down, or taken prisoner.”
“You have my word that won’t happen.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“For the same reason I’ll have to trust you once you get the power cell,” Walker said. “Do we have a deal?”
Malik’s face tensed as he thought about this. A moment later he answered. “We have a deal.”
Walker extended his hand. Malik looked at him, confused.
“Where I come from, a man is only as good as his word. And we shake on a deal,” Walker said.
Malik stared at Walker’s hand for a moment. Then he reac
hed out and clasped it. Their eyes met, and their hands shook.
Walker didn’t know how the Verge felt about loyalty and honor. They had broken the peace treaty and had been heading toward New Earth with a fleet hell-bent on destruction. Did a handshake with a Saarkturian mean anything?
27
SLADE
It took nine slide-space jumps to reach Vega Draconis from Alpha Ceti 7. The Scarab entered the atmosphere and made its approach to a private space port in Europa City. It was the capital of Vega Draconis, and had the largest population density on the planet.
It was a city of almost perpetual night. The party never ended in Europa. You could buy liquor, or whatever you wanted, 24 hours a day. The clubs and bars and restaurants never closed. The city was filled with dazzling lights. Brilliant video displays lined the sides of towering buildings. It had that electric vibe in the atmosphere. Something was always happening. It was like New York and Las Vegas hooked up for a one night stand and had a really bad kid.
Slade watched the descent into the city from the porthole in her cabin. It was hard to believe that a city that looked so wondrous from above could be such a gritty, slimy cesspool.
The hatch to her compartment slid open. “Time to meet your new boss,” Logan said.
“I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten in a week.”
“Not my problem.”
“You know, you might get more money for me if I looked well fed and had some makeup.”
Logan frowned. Slade was right. “Mia,” he called out. A few moments later she appeared.
“What is it?”
“Let her borrow some makeup.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
“Fine. But you’re reimbursing me for expenses.”
Logan rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Just make her look pretty.”
“I’m not a miracle worker,” Mia said.
Slade glared at her.
“Do it,” Logan commanded.
“Okay.” Mia darted out and returned a moment later. She entered Slade’s cabin with a Nouveau Visage makeup applicator. It was in a small aluminum case, and folded open like a laptop. It had a display and a small robotic arm. It scanned Slade’s face, then displayed a number of potential makeup looks to choose from on the screen.
