Voyages of the White Skull Book 1

by Jason Alan Jones

  “Lay off! I know that I’ve gained weight, but it’s been a few years since I last saw you. Times have been rough, you know,” Jesse explained. Not to mention that the weed he smoked gave him the munchies.

  “Jesse, I don’t care how tough things have been, you should always keep in shape, especially in our line of work. Besides, you used to look so young and cute,” Luis said, pretending he was talking to a baby. Only Luis could get away with joking with Jesse in such a way. Anyone else would be dead, with a hole in his or her chest and head.

  “All right, knock it off…do you have the credits?”

  “Yes, I have your credits. Do you have my merchandise?” Luis quickly countered, as he raised an eyebrow in jest. Luis loved joking around with his long-time friend.

  “You’re a nut. Yes, Loooeeesss,” Jesse said, grinning. “Wait a second, Luis. What the fuck are you wearing?” he asked, as he took a step back to give Luis a look-over.

  “Que pasa, do you like it? I designed it myself; it’s my new pasión, or hobby, as you gringos would say. You know how long these damn smuggling runs can be at times. The silk scarf and shoes, I bought—well…stole. Me encante robar ropa. I love stealing clothes. We recently raided a cargo ship two days from here. The merchandise on the ship was to die for, so many name brands like Versace and Prada,” Luis femininely explained with a shrill voice and snapping his fingers.

  Luis was dressed from head to toe in yellow. If Luis were not so utterly ruthless, people would not take him seriously. His name was feared throughout the known solar system. He’s known as the Latin Asesino, or murderer in English. Luis didn’t have a conscience when it came to killing people. He’s loyal as a friend but a bit too bloodthirsty for Jesse’s taste, which he had proven onboard the starship Hell Fire time and time again. Jesse briefly thought back to an incident when he had seen Luis lick a knife he had used to slit someone’s throat. It was a memory he tried to shake out of his mind. Jesse had also done many things he wasn’t proud of but never anything that sick or demented.

  Luis was a tall, handsome, Spanish man with a tan complexion, short black hair, and dark, haunting eyes. Lifeless eyes that resembled those of a shark, deep-set marbles that both absorbed and repelled emotion. He told Jesse that they were the result of a birth defect. He was born premature, near a toxic waste plant on the moon. The toxicity, and pre-maturity, made him look extremely intimidating. If you didn’t already know him, it was hard to look him directly in the eyes. Luis, however, liked this fact, and used it to his advantage on more than one occasion. Even their old Captain Barakat wouldn’t look directly at him for too long. Jesse didn’t mention it, but he noticed that the black part of Luis’ eyes had grown larger since the last time he had seen him. There wasn’t much white left.

  While smiling at his friend, Jesse pulled out the black device he had in his pocket, pointed it at the cargo bay of his ship, and pressed the red button in the center. Jesse arrogantly looked at Luis the entire time as the two cargo bay doors parted in the center and opened to the sides. Then a platform with a load of crates lifted up from inside the ship, moved forward, and then lowered itself on the deck.

  “Very impressive,” Luis said as he nodded. Jesse was trying to annoy Luis. “Did you get everything on the list?”

  “It wasn’t easy, but, yes, I did,” Jesse replied, and then asked, “Out of curiosity, how many crew members do you have now?” Ever since he had seen Luis’ ship, he had become more jealous than interested in their transaction.

  Luis cleared his throat, “Two hundred and forty-seven,” Luis quickly answered with pride, pretending not to notice Jesse’s eyes narrow.

  Jesse bit his lip as he made every effort to conceal his envy. For a brief moment, he wanted to take out one of his laser pistols and splatter his friend’s brains all over the deck. They were competitive with each other, always trying to outdo one another.

  “Frank! Johnny! Check it out!” Luis ordered his goons, as he lightly clamped his hands. Jesse shook his head while he watched two of Luis’ muscle-bound men run over to Jesse’s lift with the stacks of crates and opened them one at a time, checking them against their digital inventory record. Jesse tried his best not to stare at Luis’ crewmen. He could tell that Luis dressed them. They were each wearing tight, one-quarter sleeved navy blue shirts and tight fitting black shorts so snug they hardly concealed what was beneath them. Jesse didn’t want to but noticed that each man had an enormous bulge in his shorts. Jesse slowly turned his head and looked at Luis. Luis read his friend’s mind, smiled, and shook his head with a yes nod. Jesse lowered his head, smiled, and then laughed.

  When they were finished, Frank gave Luis a thumbs up and immediately motioned to the other men to help load the goods into the Rose’s cargo hold. The four men were extremely strong and quickly transferred the crates without even breaking a sweat, or looking as if it was strenuous.

  “Excelente, you always pull through for me, amigo,” said Luis. Jesse noticed that he had a worried look on his face while his men were checking the cargo. Luis even looked as if he had held his breath the entire time. He knew Jesse would have everything, but half of the shipment was going to Elijah, who was not a forgiving human being.

  “Luis, you never cease to amaze me…where are the rest of your crew’s clothing?” Jesse asked, with his right hand up in disbelief.

  “Are you kidding, hermano? You should see what they wear on my ship….nothing,” Luis said, with a devilish grin. He laughed at his friend’s expression.

  “I should have known better than to ask.” Jesse grabbed the bridge of his own nose and shook his head as if he had just gotten a headache. “All right, where are the credits?” Jesse asked.

  Luis snapped his fingers and one of his men went into his ship, coming back with a silver briefcase. Luis’ thug handed it to his boss who then handed it to Jesse. Even though they’re close friends, Jesse took his time counting his credits. He badly needed the money to buy supplies. He closed the case with a grin and rubbed the top.

  “Thank you, princess. Do you have any other work for me?” Jesse asked, while smiling, knowing Luis actually liked it when he called him that.

  “Yes, I was hoping you would ask. I need you to make two trips for me. I have eight crates, along with a tall metal obelisk, that I need you to deliver separately,” said Luis.

  “What the hell is an obelisk?” Jesse asked.

  “It’s like a tall, metal crate, with something valuable inside,”

  “How tall is the obelisk?”

  “About nine feet.”

  “Are there any explosives?” Jesse had never delivered explosives no matter what sum of money was involved.

  “No, no, no, I know you don’t transport any form of explosives. Don’t worry, I need the crates delivered to Nemtox 8, and the metal obelisk has to be dropped off at these coordinates,” Luis said, as he handed Jesse a small piece of thick, red plastic with an indentation in the center.

  Jesse snapped it open and pulled out a piece of material with the numbers 00-24-4356 printed on it. “Are you kidding me? Zero, Zero is the restricted sector near the Falco asteroid belt. The UPG has a military instillation there. That’s where the Horizon was constructed. They have more firepower in that sector than anywhere else in the UPG. What’s in the obelisk, a fucking weapon?” Without waiting for an answer, Jesse went on. “You know I don’t transport weapons to the military. Besides, you know the UPG would gun me down if they saw my ship. They would love to get their dirty little hands on me and then display my cold, dead body back on Earth. Ya know, the way they did it with the pirates in the 1800’s. They patrol those surrounding sectors every few hours.” Jesse paused. “I know what you’re going to say; I have done a couple of off-the-record jobs for the UPG on a couple of occasions,” Jesse confessed, “but their corrupt politicians wouldn’t want the public to know about those sorts of things. You know what I’m saying?”

  “Listen, listen, I can pay you twenty thousand credits now and f
ifty thousand when you get the job done,” Luis said, attempting to sway him by sweetening the deal.

  “If I die, does the twenty thousand go towards my funeral costs, or perhaps the humane society?” Jesse asked, sarcastically.

  “Eso no tiene gracia, that’s not funny,” Luis said, worried by Jesse’s sarcasm. Luis really needed Jesse to do these two separate tasks, for reasons even he didn’t know. Elijah had demanded it of him.

  “All right, I can have the contact meet you at the coordinates of your choosing, but it has to be close to the original sector. Those coordinates were given to me. I didn’t pick them, but I know I can have the contact meet you where you choose. Does that sound better?” Luis clandestinely prayed he would agree. Jesse took a moment to answer. For a minute, he was planning on not taking the two jobs, but he really could use the extra credits.

  “I’ll do it for thirty thousand credits now, and seventy thousand upon meeting your contact,” Jesse haggled, which was customary in their profession.

  “What! No, no, the best I can do is twenty-five now, and sixty when you make contact, but that’s only because you’re like a hermano to me,” Luis said, pretending to be surprised by Jesse’s demands. Jesse knew that if Luis could, he would give him whatever he asked for, but Elijah would only give Luis a certain amount he could go up to. After all, it isn’t Luis’ money. Jesse pretended to think about it as he stared off into space.

  “Deal, twenty-five now and sixty when I’m finished,” Jesse said, as he shook Luis’ hand and raised an eyebrow. “Where are the credits?” he added.

  Luis smiled at his friend, and with a snap of his fingers, one of his henchmen quickly brought an additional case over to him and handed it over to Jesse. He counted the credits while his friend’s burly men loaded the cargo onto Jesse’s platform connected to his long, black ship.

  A tall, almost withered, man came out of the Rose’s cargo bay. He was dressed in a dark gray suit, white shirt, and a red tie. The man had a pale complexion and long, white hair pulled back into a ponytail. His eyes were wide, and his cheekbones shone through his skin. The first thing that came to Jesse’s mind was, “Lurch!” Jesse called out the name. The man’s eyes widened as he looked at Jesse. He was not amused by his outburst. The tall man was pushing a long, metal case on a dolly. As he passed Jesse, he gave him a long, un-approving stare, which lasted until he reached Jesse’s cargo lift. The odd-looking man lowered the object and walked back into the cargo bay of Luis’ ship.

  “What’s up with Lurch?” asked Jesse.

  “I know he’s a little creepy. He was sent by Elijah. He has something to do with…that,” Luis said, pointing to the object. “He wouldn’t tell me anything about it. And with Elijah, if he doesn’t tell you, it’s best not to ask. All I know is that he doesn’t talk, and has incredible posture.” Both men smiled at each other.

  While Luis continued to talk, Jesse placed his two silver briefcases full of credits on his cargo lift. He pulled out the black device from his pocket once again and pressed its button. Smoothly the lift ascended and placed its load softly back in the cargo hold of Jesse’s ship. The doors closed in the center and disappeared. The line where the doors met had vanished. The ship looked completely black, except for the hatch that led to Jesse’s flight room.

  “Who’s my contact on Nemtox 8?” Jesse asked.

  Luis threw his yellow silk scarf over his shoulder. “No contact, just drop and leave the cargo in bay number five. You’ll be expected. It’s as simple as that. Here is my transceiver frequency; it’s a private, secure line, sweetie. Let me know in two days where you want to drop off the obelisk and I’ll make the arrangements,” Luis instructed, as he handed Jesse a small piece of red plastic like the one he was given with the coordinates.

  “Have you been all right out there by yourself?” Luis asked his friend. Luis missed Jesse and was genuinely concerned about his friend.

  “Yeah. You know me, I’m fine without anyone to talk to. You know with everything we’ve been through and seen…yeah, I like it out there alone.”

  “All right, but we shouldn’t wait so fucking long to see each other. We are blood brothers, you know?”

  “You’re right, my friend, we will keep in touch,” Jesse said.

  “Take better care of yourself, hermano, and get your fat ass on an electric cycle or something. Think about your health. Aren’t you going to be thirty soon?” Luis added.

  “In two months, and yes, you’re right, I do have to do something. Well, you take care of yourself too, and I’ll send you the coordinates in two days,” Jesse said, trying to change the subject. “Have fun with your toy soldiers.”

  “Oh, I will. Siempre le boy amar, Jesse,” Luis said, as he placed his hand over his heart.

  “What?” Jesse asked in confusion.

  “Nothing, I was just wishing you good luck,” Luis lied.

  “All right, brother, smooth sailing.”

  The two men, now alone on the rusty deck, said their goodbyes as Luis’ crew powered up his monstrous ship. Jesse gave Luis the one-arm, manly semi-hug with a soft pat on the back.

  After Luis boarded his ship, Jesse waited a minute until the Rose pulled out of the space station. As Luis’ ship penetrated through the red force field, it vanished back into its stealth mode. Jesse had a feeling that Luis was just trying to show off. He looked around at the rusty space station and wondered about its history. He knew a little of its history from old Captain Barakat. He had told him that it was used by an early regime of the UPG who used it as a place to torture and execute civilians who insisted on not following the government’s policies. It was also used to conduct experiments on UPG soldiers in search of a way to increase their physical potential. It was later sabotaged and then abandoned when information leaked out— the source was apparently taken care of. Barakat introduced its location to Jesse and Luis a few years before his death. Only the cargo bay and a couple sections remained. Every other part of the station had been looted during the evacuation.

  Jesse jumped into his ship, sealed the hatch, and yelled “Sanctuary!” Jesse loved his ship and didn’t feel relaxed when he was away from it for an extended period of time. After checking his holographic long-range radar, he went to his cargo bay where he pulled out a large, green device that had two long, silver, metal rods extending straight out. The scanner rested on one of Jesse’s numerous utility shelves where he was storing a variety of tools and gear. Luckily, Jesse’s ship required little maintenance, so most of the tools he collected were used for fixing and upgrading weapons and for little projects that he worked on when he was bored. He noticed that he mostly seemed to work on projects when he was high. He realized for some reason that when he was loaded up on pills or marijuana, he felt the need to work on something. A couple of times he was so high that he cleaned the entire interior of his starship. Jesse had also collected a large number of antique metal absinthe signs, which he had placed around the walls of his cargo bay. A touch of wicked paraphernalia, he had called it. Absinthe is Jesse’s favorite liquor. Absinthe was invented in the 1800’s by the French who distributed it to their soldiers in times of war. It had quickly become popular and was marketed soon after due to its drug-induced effects, which often led to hallucinating, or what Jesse always believed that had made him feel so fucking good. He loved to jam to music whenever he was loaded. Mostly to punk rock like the Sex Pistols. Sid Vicious, the singer was his favorite. “My Way” was his favorite song. He did, however, learn to control himself after one evening when he woke up naked, covered in blue paint, sprawled out on the kitchen floor of his ship’s galley. He still didn’t remember what happened or why he was wearing spaghetti on his head and had cheese wedged in his ass. It took a week for the blue paint to come off. If any of his friends, or clients, had seen him, they would have said that he looked like an unhinged Braveheart. He spent that week avoiding contact with everyone.

  Tolerantly, he ran the green scanner over the briefcases and all of the cargo
checking for bombs, bugging devices, or anything out of the ordinary. Although he trusted Luis, he had to make sure his friend wasn’t trying to set him up or cremate him unexpectedly. The scan came out negative, which calmed his suspicions. He still felt a little paranoid, but staying alert and being mistrustful was what kept him alive through all of his precarious jobs.

  Remembering Luis’ parting words, Jesse looked down at his gut and muttered to himself, “That’s it, I’m going on a diet. When a gay man tells you that you look awful, then something is definitely wrong.” Five years prior, Jesse had the body of a true warrior. He had trained in various martial arts and combat techniques for years. He always watched what he ate and ran at least three to five miles a day on whatever surface he could find. Running was a rush for him; it was the only thing that released his stress and tension throughout his body. Well, that and sex, drugs, and alcohol.

  The space pirate took his credits with him to his flight room and emptied them into a safe he had cleverly concealed in his right wall. He placed the empty briefcases into a hidden disintegrator he had in the hallway. It was perfect for losing incriminating evidence if the UPG ever caught him. He obsessively checked his radar and all of the ship’s systems again and then guided the Black Ice out of the space dock, disappearing back into the darkness of space. Lovingly, he referred to this cosmic void as home.

  “B.I., dim the lights,” he commanded, and subsequently the lights in his command room faded to black. He leaned back in his flight chair. His flight console was lit up like a Christmas tree, with its multi-colored buttons fading in and out. It reminded him of when he was a child. He used to love sleeping on the couch next to the Christmas tree a few nights before Christmas morning in Michigan. It was a good memory for him. His life was anything but easy, experiencing harsh physical abuse, and being molested a few times by a few different people. But, holding on to some of his more pleasant memories, like his favorite cartoons and the movies he loved while growing up, kept him from going insane. Christmas was indeed his favorite time of the year, but it was also his saddest.