Syndicate's Pawns

by Davila LeBlanc

  “I’m sure you have, little prince.”

  “Rest assured, our prey is helpless. That being said, Mikali, I need you to block that transmission from going any further than the edge of this system and mister Loc, I need you to make contact with them.”

  Loc nodded. “Erm . . . what do I tell them?”

  “Simple.” Domiant took another moment to admire the Jinxed Thirteenth. A crippled find like this in the lawless Covenant-­free sectors of space? All Domiant’s crew would have to do in order to secure it was to follow standard ship-­to-­ship protocol. To all outer appearances nothing of this vessel justified the incredible payday promised. “We will identify ourselves and offer a helping hand.”

  CHAPTER 8

  MORWYN

  It has often been wondered which is more valuable. Love? Or Trust? The answer to the question lies in figuring out which is scarcer. Love is everywhere and in everything. Trust? Not so much. Love is priceless, Trust is rare. The two are not exclusive, but it is dangerous to presume that having one means having both.

  —­Prefect Atrian Silenus,

  3rd of SSM–01 1444 A2E

  20th of SSM–11 1445 A2E

  What was maddening about this entire situation was the extremely vulnerable position in which Morwyn presently found himself. A transport vessel identifying itself as the Althena had slipped into their system and hailed the Jinxed Thirteenth less than an hour ago. Pilot Harlowe had run a search on the vessels registrations and they had come out clean.

  The captain had requested to board the Jinxed Thirteenth to negotiate a trade. This had made Morwyn nervous, but what else could he do? They were in need of parts and if this merchant vessel had what they needed he would have to broker a trade with its captain. The longer they remained stationary in End Space, beyond the laws of the Covenant, the greater their chances of being found by far less scrupulous individuals traversing the cosmos.

  Lizbeth Harlowe had assured Morwyn that there were no weapons systems of any kind on the Althena. This had done very little to reassure Morwyn. In this day and age it was often the crew serving on the vessels who were far more dangerous. Then of course there was the question of just what a merchant vessel was doing this far in End Space.

  This was why Morwyn had agreed to meet with the Althena’s captain and one other member of his crew. He had chosen Chord as his second; the Machina’s capacity for languages and cultures would be useful at circumventing any misunderstandings. Also prior to arranging this meeting, Morwyn had made Chord promise him that the Machina would reveal nothing about Jessie Madison or their previous mission. If asked anything, Chord was to remain silent and let Morwyn do the talking.

  “You appear to be restless, Captain.” Chord was standing at Morwyn’s right side. Both of them were in front of the Jinxed Thirteenth’s main loading-­bay door. The Althena had bound itself to the Jinxed with its own collapsible tunnel. Presently parties from both ships were waiting for the pressure to equalize on both sides before meeting with each other.

  “There is something about this that I simply do not like.” Morwyn looked to Chord. If the Machina felt anything akin to suspicion it did not show on its artificial face.

  “This unit understands and will be mindful of any strange behavior.”

  “Gratitude, Chord.” Morwyn took a moment to straighten his uniform. He would have to keep this transaction as brief as possible. The longer it took, the greater the chance of Jessie’s accidental discovery.

  “Captain, the pressure is equalized on both sides.” Lizbeth Harlowe spoke over the ship’s intercom.

  Morwyn took a calming breath and readied himself. “Right, let our guests on board, Lizbeth.”

  The doors to the main loading bay clicked and grinded as they pulled themselves open. Perfectly sealed around the edges of the entrance was a semitranslucent membrane that stretched twenty to thirty feet to another entrance. Standing just one step outside the Jinxed on the membrane’s collapsible interlocking floor tiles were two men. One was a Kelthan, an ugly man with scars on his face. He was muscular and wearing a black leather jacket and thick dark gloves. He was bald with mismatched colored eyes, one sky blue, the other a dark purple, both with octagonal irises.

  The muscular man stood behind a young Wolver. He wore a long cloak that seemed to be made out of thick black feathers. His clothes were fancy and he had several jade and crystal rings on his toes and fingers. The Wolver had an uncharacteristically clean-­shaven face; his eyes were dark and filled with a mixture of cunning and confidence that Morwyn found troubling. As per their agreement before boarding the ship, neither of these two men were carrying any weapons.

  It was the Wolver who stepped forward first, with a warm and friendly smile. “Captain Morwyn Soltaine, I presume?” the Wolver asked in perfect Pax Common.

  “Yes. Unfortunately you have me at a disadvantage.”

  The Wolver’s smile widened when he heard this. His teeth were even and neat, his canines sharp. “Ah yes. I am Domiant Kuaro Nem’Uldur.” Domiant pointed to the man silently standing a few steps away from him. “This man is Niko. He is not much of a speaker, but what he lacks in words he makes up for in skill and a strong work ethic. He also knows more than I do about ships and engines. He will be able to let me know if we have the parts that you require.”

  Morwyn gave the man named Niko a quick glance and was glad to see that Chord was observing him quite closely. There was no hiding that he was augmented with cybernetic modifications. Everything about Niko’s stance screamed former military to Morwyn. This alone was not enough to trigger Morwyn’s full suspicion. A merchant traveling anywhere in the cosmos would no doubt hire himself a bodyguard. But there was something about this Niko fellow, a certain eagerness about him, much like Domiant’s confidence and friendly smile, which Morwyn could not help but find disconcerting.

  “You have my personal and the Covenant’s gratitude for responding so promptly to our message.” Once again Morwyn cursed his position. Whether he trusted or liked these two men was irrelevant. They needed parts and Domiant claimed to have what he needed. Until proven otherwise, Morwyn would have to trust that everything was just as it seemed. And hopefully not come to regret the decision.

  Domiant waved his hand dismissively. “We are all tiny travelers in the Infinite Living Cosmos are we not, Captain? It is the least we can do to offer assistance to those who serve the Great Peace.”

  Niko cleared his throat when Domiant said this. “Won’t be free though, Captain.”

  Domiant let out a friendly laugh before shooting a sideways glare back Niko’s way. “You will have to forgive mister Niko, Captain. He has but one worry on his mind and it is to have plenty of coin in his purse.”

  “No worries, mister Domiant. Coin, honor or kindness, I don’t care what motivates you to assist us so long as you do so,” Morwyn replied, giving Niko another quick look before turning his attention back to Domiant.

  Morwyn’s comment seemed to please Domiant greatly and he gave Morwyn’s shoulder a friendly pat. “Indeed, Captain. You and I are like-­minded on that particular issue.”

  Domiant looked Morwyn over. “Captain, why not show us where the damage is?” Domiant’s question was innocent and reasonable enough. “Then we can determine whether this relationship will be a mutually profitable one or not.”

  “For obvious reasons, you will have to stay with me and Chord as we escort you to our engine room.”

  Domiant’s smile didn’t flicker, not once. “You are a cautious man, Captain. I like that.”

  Niko intently and silently examined the engine for quite some time. He eventually let out a grunt, nodded, then looked to Domiant. “Yeah, we have just what they need.” He turned to face Morwyn. “It won’t be cheap, though.”

  “As Captain of a Covenant vessel it is well within my legal rights to order you to give us the parts, mister Niko. Never mind that
on top of that if our roles were reversed I wouldn’t be seeking to extort you,” Morwyn said.

  Niko did not seem to like being challenged, and his eyes flared up. “Well, we ain’t Covenant and this is End Space, boy. Or did no one tell you that?”

  Before anything else could be said, Domiant clapped his hands loudly together. “There is absolutely no need for this, mister Niko. Captain Morwyn, you have to understand that we are a merchant outfit—­there will need to be a financial justification, for the fuel and payday losses we incurred on this detour.” Domiant’s voice was calm and incredibly diplomatic.

  “Other than you doing the right thing?” Chord enquired, speaking for the first time since they had met.

  Domiant was unable to hide the disdainful look on his face as he glanced back at Chord. “Captain, while I respect your choice of crew, I would prefer your mechanical companion not speak to me.”

  “You don’t seem to have much trouble working with an artificially augmented individual.” Morwyn looked to Niko then back to Domiant. There was no doubt in Morwyn’s mind that this Niko was not just a machinist. He was more than likely a soldier of fortune, a mercenary. In essence, someone Morwyn was liking and trusting less and less.

  Domiant shrugged. “Regardless of the horrible things he has done to his body, Niko remains a living breathing Intelligence. That thing—­” Domiant pointed to Chord when he said this “—­is not.”

  Morwyn had heard enough. He wanted nothing more than to complete this transaction as quickly as possible and have these two along with their vessel on their way. “I can pay you in Covenant Promissory notes. They will be bankable at any starport upon your return to Covenant Space.”

  Domiant smiled. “Good. Captain, lets you and I hammer out the numbers while you show my man here where to load what you need. I can tell you are a busy man, and I would be lying if I said I didn’t have more pressing engagements awaiting me elsewhere.”

  “Well, the Infinite praise you for taking the time to assist us,” Morwyn replied.

  “Captain, you are obviously more than welcome.” Domiant smiled a friendly smile at Morwyn. It was not returned.

  CHAPTER 9

  JESSIE

  The main lesson in life is learning how to trust. It is such a big challenge, learning to let ­people close enough to reveal one’s intimate, sacred self. It is never easy, but if there is one thing the Infinite is truly good at, it is providing us with ample chances to learn.

  —­Icarius Odenshaw,

  12th of SSM–09 1324 A1E

  20th of SSM–11 1445 A2E

  Jessie stared blankly through one of the cantina’s many portholes while Marla Varsin was focused on her data-­pad. The two were enjoying a moment of silence and Jessie found her attention wholly fixed on the new vessel docked next to the Jinxed Thirteenth. She was proud that she could read out the letters drawn along the side. “Althena” was spelled in the letters of the Pax Common alphabet and Jessie wondered what it meant, or who the vessel was named after. It was relatively easy for her to enter the name into her codexicon, which revealed that Althena was the name of a legendary scout during the Advent War. She had lived to see the start of the great peace and amongst her achievements, boasted being the first pilot to land on the world of Argent; she had died shortly thereafter, at the age of one hundred and twenty.

  In the days of Old Earth, faster-­than-­light engines had been incredibly costly, and ships capable of housing them were huge, consuming gargantuan amounts of nuclear fuel. The radioactive waste produced by the process was easily disposed of by being dumped into nearby stars. The transport that had delivered Jessie and her late husband, David, to Moria Three had been relatively small, roughly the size of a three-­story apartment complex.

  This was why Jessie initially had found it difficult to believe that the Jinxed Thirteenth, or the Althena for that matter, was in fact capable of traversing the cosmos. “What I wouldn’t give to examine your ship’s drives more closely,” she said to Marla in Late Modern.

  Seated in front of her, poring over a translucent data-­pad, Marla Varsin twirled a strand of her white hair absentmindedly. “Good fortunes with convincing machinist Oran to let you do that.”

  Jessie took a mournful bite from her nutri-­bar. Today’s “dinner” tasted like artificial almond flavoring. Flavor notwithstanding, Marla Varsin had assured Jessie that it contained all the nutrients required to keep her strong and healthy. “You know, I was considered a brilliant engineer in my day.”

  It was Marla Varsin’s turn to shoot Jessie a mournful smile. “I was a brilliant physician in mine.”

  Jessie let out a snort and returned to looking at the Althena. “How did we both wind up here?”

  “My story is far less tragic than yours, Jessie Madison.”

  “And I’m certain that mine is far less tragic than my ancestors’,” Jessie replied, before ravenously swallowing another bite of her nutri-­bar. That was another thing she would have to deal with as her pregnancy progressed; for the foreseeable future, she would be eating for two. Her hands went down to her belly. Her condition didn’t show just yet, but within a month or so that would no longer be the case.

  And what was she to do once the pregnancy was taken to term? She had no idea where to go, or even if she had a home to go to. Where would she be safe? Gods, did she ever wish she had possessed the foresight to pack some marijuana in her vacupack. Right now a joint would have been one of the most welcome things in the world.

  “For all you know it could also be incredibly illegal now,” she mumbled under her breath.

  Focusing on the Althena once more, Jessie couldn’t help but feel that the vessel looked rather . . . unremarkable. It hardly lived up to its legendary namesake. It resembled a long, rectangular metal box with two other boxes, obviously thrusters of some kind, on both its sides. The ship looked slightly dirty but Jessie had no way of knowing whether that was a good thing or not. Even in her time the ships she had seen were far from spotless. Connecting both the Jinxed Thirteenth and the Althena was what looked like a short segment of giant brown intestine.

  “So, what is your story then?” Jessie stepped away from the view port. She took a deep breath before walking over to Marla Varsin and seating herself next to her.

  “Forgiveness, Jessie Madison.” The doctor looked up from her data-­pad. There was something in her eyes that told Jessie that whatever it was Marla Varsin had done, she was not very proud of it. “One day I would like to tell you about the Syndicate, the Elusives and the role I played for their organization. But it will not be this day.”

  “I didn’t mean to push you.” Jessie held back the urge to face palm herself. What made her think that this woman before her would feel like divulging her darkest secrets?

  Marla Varsin set her data-­pad aside, giving Jessie her full attention. “We both know the same words. Because of that I know you feel it easier to trust me more than you do Chord.”

  Jessie chewed her lower lip and nodded. “It helps to hear a nonmachine voice speaking my language, yes.”

  “I appreciate you offering me your trust. But believe me when I tell you that I am not deserving of it. I did horrible terrible things and my penance, to redress the balance, is to serve the Covenant until I have breathed my last breath.” Marla Varsin smiled bitterly.

  Before Jessie could say or do anything she heard heavy footsteps approaching just outside the cantina door. Suddenly a tall muscular stranger barged in with Chord behind him. The stranger was bald, with octagonal irises, and his face was lined with several scars. Jessie immediately found him to be repulsive and she did not like the hungry look that he gave her. There was an aura of restrained aggression in him.

  Chord had a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Mister Niko, this is not the way to the cargo hold,” it said in Pax Common.

  Niko effortlessly shoved Chord’s hand away. Jessie
could tell from the angles beneath his dark leather jacket that his arm was more than likely a cybernetic augment of some kind. “My mistake don’t suddenly give you cause to touch me, Machina.”

  “You must forgive our guest,” Chord said to Jessie in Late Modern. “This unit was showing mister Niko to the cargo hold while the captain negotiates the trade for our required parts.” Chord tried to place itself between Niko and Jessie, and part of her was incredibly thankful for this. There was something very off-­putting about Niko. He gave both Marla Varsin and Jessie one more deliberate up and down look before turning around and stepping back into the hallway, followed closely by Chord, who shut the door behind them, but not before Niko said something in a dialect that Jessie had never heard before.

  Jessie listened to Niko’s heavy footsteps walking away from them before asking, “What did he say before leaving?”

  Marla Varsin frowned. “He said: See you ladies soon.”

  CHAPTER 10

  DOMIANT

  The Elvrids are the prime voices of the Living Green. They are the wisdom that guides and heals. It is not a duty to be taken lightly. The Elvrids are sages, medicine men and women with an uncanny connection to the worlds they visit. An Elvrid can easily recognize an edible plant from poison. They have been known to predict with almost remarkable precision the outcome of events, wars and even the coming of storms. Theirs is an incredibly secretive and sacred position of power. To this day, none know the exact nature of the trials undergone by Elvrid apprentices or what is done to those who fail.

  —­From Incredible Secrets of the Cosmos, vol 213,

  SSM 04 1439 A2E

  20th of SSM–11 1445 A2E

  Domiant eagerly drummed his fingers on the clasp of his belt buckle. The fine polished stone rings on all fingers made a slight clinking sound as he did this, which he found relaxing. The deal was done and for all intents and purposes, the trap was set. Within a few hours Domiant would set foot on the Jinxed Thirteenth once more, only this time it would be HIS ship. He had not just planned it, but foreseen it as well.