Chronicles of a Space Mercenary

by Ronald Wintrick

  The day passed slowly despite the pace of our activity, but I found myself avoiding more alcohol as my curiosity was burning to know what was on the memory stick and I wanted to be sober when I viewed it. I took a few minutes later in the day to return to our kitchen to attempt to eat a piece of the raw meat and found, after the first distasteful bite, that it was quite good. Meerla continued drinking throughout the day, but it only seemed to endear her to her admirers, who were enjoying her break from mundane routine. Finally, after what seemed a lifetime later, I was pushing the last of the reluctant drinkers out the door and locking up, exhausted but not yet tired. Alartaw obviously needed little sleep. Maybe their home world had a long day, I did not know.

  “Let’s go see what’s on that memory stick.” Meerla said as I came back around the bar, sounding completely sober even though I knew she was not.

  “What memory stick?”

  “The one that soldier gave you. This morning.”

  “You saw that?” I said. I would never underestimate Tanya but this was a surprise.

  “You aren’t very clever when it comes down to it.”

  “Oh shut up.” I said, annoyed. I had certainly thought the transfer went unnoticed. I had glanced at her after the transaction and she had seemed completely engrossed in what she had been doing. I had not thought she had seen.

  “You always underestimate me.”

  “You only think so.” I said.

  “Be that as it may, let’s go watch it.” Meerla said, a smirk on her face I remembered all too well. It translated over to her Alartaw features perfectly. Classic Tanya.

  We went to our leisure room and I found a slot in the huge vid screen where the little device fit. I sat on the arm of a sofa while Meerla made herself comfortable and we watched as the machine began playing the media.

  What was obviously the view from a hand held camera appeared on the screen (it wasn’t entirely steady) showing a huge chamber that was crowded with masked Alartaw. There looked to be thousands, maybe tens of thousands (the cameras scope could not take them all in), and this from a vantage point well over the crowd, a balcony or some such. The entire mass of Alartaw was waving huge blast rifles, de-atomizers and other weapons, and appeared ready for war.

  The image soon clicked away to reappear inside a small, nondescript, unadorned room that held only one of the masked Alartaw gunmen (this one goggled, I thought to hide his identity and retinal signature). He began speaking;

  “We are prepared.” The figure said in a mechanical voice altered by a computer program. “We are emplaced and await only your signal, Emperor.” Then the video ended.

  “The intrigues deepen.” Meerla said. “Emperor!”

  “What the . . .” I said. “Now I do need a drink.”

  “Maybe you’re supposed to kill me.” Meerla suggested slyly. “What other signal could they be waiting for?”

  “Maybe.” I said seriously. Actually it seemed to make a lot of sense. “I kill you and they kill the Emperor.”

  “Since it wouldn’t do any good to kill the Emperor and leave an heir.”

  “I rather think I like the idea.” I said.

  “I rather think I’d like to see you try it.”

  “So what happens when I don’t kill you?” I asked. “Or rather, more than likely, arrange an accident for you?”

  “I don’t know, Emperor.” Meerla smirked. “I guess it’s your ass. I’ll still be the Princess after they flay you.”

  “Maybe I’ll follow it through and become the Emperor after all!” I said, more than a bit testily.

  “I think not. But we may be able to turn this to our advantage.”

  “We’re never going to get out of this alive.” I said realistically. “Soon I’m going to lose track of all the plots we are now embroiled within. I’m bound to do something stupid.”

  “That goes without saying.” Meerla said to a venomous look. “I’m rather beginning to enjoy myself, however. I love intrigue. Maybe it’s my feminine nature, but if anyone can get through this, it’s us. The Kievors knew what they were doing when they chose us.”

  “They chose me and you forced your way in.” I corrected her.

  “And a lucky thing for you I took pity.” She said. “I have a plan.”

  “You always do.” I actually admitted. “Go ahead, what is it?”

  Meerla opened her mouth to begin to explain but was interrupted by the front door chime, startling both of us. We looked into one another’s eyes, both wondering what would be next, and then I got up and went to the wall com.

  “We’re closed.” I told it. It chimed again.

  “Who’s there?” I demanded angrily, and there was no answer, but the wall com took my words literally and lit up to show me the image of the old gentleman standing in the corridor outside Eh Smargohm. On the little screen we watched him reach out again and press the chimer. It rang again.

  “I’ll be right there.” I said, giving Meerla a wary look.

  She followed as I went through the bar and out to the exterior door. I was as conscious of the little laser on her belt as I was of the de-atomizer on my own, images of mayhem and murder large in my mind. I couldn’t imagine them sending just one man to capture a dangerous Kievor traitor, but then why the afterhours visit, especially on this day. I opened the door.

  “Sorry to disturb you, Princess.” He offered no such formality to me.

  “What’s the problem?” Meerla asked.

  “The Council has decided to end this nonsense, pending your approval, of course. I wanted to bring you this information immediately, as I know how you detest all this.”

  “Yes, this has been a huge waste of time.” Meerla agreed without so much as a glance my way to see what I might think. “And I hate wasting time.”

  I wished I knew if it was within my boundaries to voice my opinion. Meerla had mentioned a plan, but it didn’t look as if I was going to get a chance to hear it before it was actually implemented. I silently prayed for success to whatever God would listen. The Alartaw god certainly wasn’t going to listen, but I knew the names of hundreds, and I silently prayed to them all at that moment.

  “Yes, your Majesty.” Said the old gentleman. “It’s probably best if you come now, then.” He turned, looking down the corridor, and waved a ‘come on’ hand signal to someone we couldn’t see because we hadn’t actually stepped out of Eh Smargohm.

  The flurry of pounding feet sounded from the direction in which the old gentleman had signaled, and now a phalanx of Alartaw crack Troopers double timed it to our doorway to form an honor guard for Meerla, who walked, quite steadily considering the amount of booze she had consumed, into the opening in their ranks they had made for her. The opening closed and they moved off. I was left with the old gentleman, who spoke;

  “We’ll send porters for all your belongings, Commander, so if you’ll just please follow me, we can be on our way.” He turned to go, but I just stood there.

  He took several steps before he noticed I wasn’t following him and he turned back to look at me. I must have betrayed some of my anger and frustration at all of this, none of which I was prepared for. “I agree that this was a colossal waste of time, but we cannot linger on the pointless forever.” The old man said. “We’ll just take what we want from these, as we take from all, and the victory shall be yours. Let us not dally.”

  “I doubt we’ll get out of here alive after everything you’ve just said aloud.” I growled, not caring that this Alartaw probably outranked me, despite my dubious rank of Commander, and wanting to test my boundaries. “The walls have ears, you damn fool!”

  He took a frightened step back under my venomous glare, telling me a lot of what I wanted to know. I felt like striking him to drive home this advantage but I remembered that the Alartaw had never been seen to fight amongst themselves. I thought now that this must strictly be for appearances, to show a unified front to the enemy, and so as not to give away secrets of technique and all else.

&nbs
p; Then I remembered the memory stick!

  “I don’t need any damn escort through herbivore country.” I snapped. “Where’s my ship docked?”

  “Your shuttle?” He asked, looking at me strangely.

  “Well?” I demanded, as if ‘of course that was what I meant.’

  “Docking Bay three hundred thousand seven, four hundred eighty five.” He answered quickly enough. “They’ll want to leave right away. Get the Princess away.”

  “Then they can send another one.” I yelled into his face, spittle flying onto him in a disgusting spray. He looked completely terrified.

  “Yes Sir.” He said. “I’m sorry Sir.” Then he turned and fled. I shut and locked the door behind him. He was obviously a non-combatant. No experienced fighter would shrivel before a little yelling. I wouldn’t anyway.

  I took a full bottle of Harcled from the bar and opened it on the way to the leisure room. I took a big gulp of the pungent liquor then pulled the memory stick from its slot.

  “Yo.” I said in Galacta, which was of course an unknown language here, except to the Kievors. “Yo, Kievors.”

  “We are here.” Said the air. I’d sure like to know how they did that.

  “I need this to be gone.” I said, and dropped it to the floor. It vanished faster than the thought. “And the adventure begins.” I added. This whole ordeal was like going to school on the very last day of the year to take your trigonometry final after skipping the whole rest of the year up to that date. I was the lamb being led to the slaughter. Did the Kievors think I was some kind of magician or something. Now that Meerla was gone, nor was there any turning back. I couldn’t abandon her even if the Kievors could somehow be convinced to turn me back, which I did not think would be any easy task if I tried to give up now. “Damn!” I swore.

  The Kievors didn’t respond to my expletive. Why should they? They even had two highly placed captives. Had they been able to glean any useful information from them? They could have already succeeded but were still throwing us to the wolves to keep it all a secret for as long as possible. The Kievors were as ruthless as anyone else, as far as I was concerned.

  I chugged from the bottle of Harcled again. Maybe being drunk would get me through some of the first few stupid things I was sure to do, like not knowing where my own quarters on my own ship were located, or the Bridge, or the security codes, or protocols, or access clearances, or the names of my own crew members, or any of a thousand things I should know but of course wouldn’t.

  Plus it would only take one of us to screw it all up for both of us. I wish Meerla would have just waited a moment or two, then we could have bluffed our way through it together, but now separated, we were twice as likely to fail. I didn’t even know if I was expected to expect to be reunited with her. I didn’t even know all the things I didn’t know. But, like I had figured from the beginning, what were a few million years of excruciating agony to a guy like me? I could take one for the team. It was a good cause. Except it wasn’t my cause. It was the Kievor's cause. Damn them!

  I took my bottle and walked through to my weapons room at the other end of the apartment, taking another big slug as I went (I could feel its effects creeping up on me quickly now), put the bottle down on the floor, and grabbed the biggest weapon I could find, snatching it from its rack and throwing it to my shoulder.

  “What kind of weapon is this?” I asked the air.

  “A molecular scrambler.” Some Kievor answered. “It scrambles living tissue. Ideal for in-ship fighting or spraying down an entire crowd.”

  “Junk.” I said, slamming the weapon back into its rack. “Which ones are blasters?” They had to have blasters!

  I wasn’t sure how I expected the Kievors to answer that question, maybe float the weapons out of their racks, or maybe green arrows on the floor, but what actually happened was the air lit up in a soft, pale glow around the weapons I was asking about. Most of them, in fact.

  The de-atomizer I was still wearing on my hip was a good weapon, but I wanted something with a punch. Something specifically not for in-ship fighting, because when (and it must certainly be when, and not if) push came to shove, I was taking as much of a whole ship as I could with me when I went.

  The second largest of any of the weapons in the room was highlighted. I snatched it off the wall and gave it a once over. It looked straight forward enough. Safety switch and trigger. I clicked off the safety and nearly dropped it as it made a whining noise, but the noise only lasted a moment. Just charging.

  “Do not fire that weapon here, Captain!” The air said. That answered several questions. I clicked the safety back on.

  “How many times will the weapon fire on one charge?”

  “We cannot determine that, precisely.”

  “A lot then?”

  “Yes, a lot.”

  “Good.” I said. “Wish me luck.” The air didn’t answer. Had I been expecting an answer? Not really.

  I threw the massive blaster up on my shoulder, shoulder butt plate in my hand. Did I want a blaster pistol as well? They were sending porters to gather up our belongings so I figured this would be sufficient for now. I might be completely out of character now already, but I couldn’t imagine someone with a weapons collection like this going unarmed. Retrieving again and swilling another drink from my bottle, I headed out.

  CHAPTER 9

  I had no problem finding the docking bay. Once you knew how to get around a Kievor Trade Station they were pretty much all the same. Aliens of all sorts (but mostly lizards) shied away from me as I slowly made my way, drinking from my bottle as I went, glaring at anyone who looked my way, basically daring anyone to screw with me, and keeping up fine Alartaw form. I was literally slobbering drunk by the time I got to the docking bay. There was no ship. No shuttle. Nothing Alartaw.

  I didn’t have long to wait though, which was probably a good thing as there were a group of lizards working in the corridor nearby, ugly, fanged, three meter long beasts (not counting their long tails) who I could tell, by their looks and the gestures they were throwing my way, weren’t very fond of Alartaw. One lone Alartaw probably looked like a good time to the aggressive looking reptiles, but they obviously couldn’t be all that bright to be antagonizing a well-armed, angry, drunk Alartaw. Especially not one with the weapon I was carrying.

  I didn’t want to make a scene at this moment and there were a lot of them, but I was quickly becoming annoyed with their attitudes. I was beginning to consider trying out my weapon on them, certainly the Harcled talking. I turned completely towards them and was avoiding no eye contact, the massive blaster growing lighter in my hands by the moment as the Alartaw equivalent of adrenaline began to pump through my veins, when the shuttle suddenly appeared in the entrance to the bay behind me.

  I gave the lizards a last long look, which I must admit, fazed them not at all. To give lizards their due I cannot say I have ever met a cowardly reptile, no matter where they had come from, and turned towards my shuttle.

  This was my first real glimpse of Alartaw technology at work. The shuttle craft was only about the size of Last Chance, but aside from size, there were absolutely no similarities. The ship looked like a stretched out ball bearing, kind of, or a long metal egg, or a short metal rod with rounded ends, but that wasn’t what was strange. Like the Kievor Trade Station, the entire ship was completely seamless, from stern to bow. There were no cameras, no ports, no weapons, no airlocks or landing gear or anything at all. As the ship settled towards the deck of the dock, under its own power and not wrapped in the orange Kievor tractor beam, I might add, sturdy landing gear grew right out of the seamless hide, and which the ship presently settled upon. A hatchway and staircase then also grew out of it. The Alartaw ship was made of trans-metal! They were obviously as, or more so, technologically advanced as the Kievors. No wonder the Kievors feared them!

  A platform now sprouted out of the front of the ship and floated there, about a deka-meter above the deck of the dock. Alartaw workers came do
wn the stairs and took control of it through some unseen device and the group of them, about twenty, and well-armed, left with the platform while I just stood insolently and watched, in no hurry to rush aboard.

  I assumed we would have to wait for the workers anyway, so I kept my post outside the ship and continued glaring at the reptiles who, though they weren’t cowed by the presence of other Alartaw, weren’t quite as overtly hostile as they had been. They had probably never seen such a purposeful group of Alartaw before.

  Now all bets were off. How long did any of these races have now? Now that the Alartaw had tired of the game. I hoped, for their sakes, despite my disliking of the reptile races, that they weren’t counting too heavily upon Kievor protection. I hoped that they got smart and got the hell out.

  The old gentleman appeared in the open hatchway and waved me aboard. “Those boys don’t need any help.”

  I advanced slowly upon him, glaring as I went. His cavalier attitude towards security, from spouting my rank aloud to assuming that twenty Troopers couldn’t be threatened by anyone on this enemy ship, had begun to seriously grate on my nerves. I had to survive long enough to get to their secrets and get ourselves out, and it wouldn’t be done by underestimating the Kievors or any other alien races who might wish to see the Alartaw hindered. I was furious.

  “If we had been so certain of our superiority, why were we here wasting time in the first place?” I snapped.

  “That was your idea, Commander,” he flung back in my face, “and as you can see, it’s gotten us nowhere!” He was standing his ground now, having dredged up courage from somewhere. I had somehow lost ground.

  “When did I begin allowing you to speak to me this way?” I asked viciously, anger boiling up within me simply because I wanted it to be there, my Alartaw blood egging me on, something I had not yet learned to control.