by Petra Landon
He raised his goblet. “Justice.”
She raised her goblet without a word and the grief on her face had Novi swallowing her gasp.
For a moment, they sipped their mihado in silence.
“Now what, Ryf?” she asked.
“I tell Ventini that we’ll case the Badlands for the Synth, but no guarantees. He’s eager enough to buy it.”
It was clear to Novi that the Captain had put a lot of thought into his decision.
“We’ll cruise the Ring by Azunti, see if anyone’s willing to carry a message to the Synth” he continued.
“What message?”
“That Ryfkin Soren is interested in a meeting” he said.
“The name alone might pique his interest.”
“I hope so, Zin. The Labyrinth will cut our journey to Azunti by weeks and we have privileges on it. If Ventini checks the portal logs, he’ll assume I went hunting for the Synth.”
“They’re giving us free access again?” she asked.
“Like you said, we’re their best assets, Zin. Venn Corp needs us.”
“I’m grateful to them, Ryf. If they hadn’t come looking for us, we wouldn’t be here” the woman said.
Novi wondered at the RimWorlder woman’s cryptic statement. Zin sounded eager to venture into Guild territory. After the long and hard-fought battle to keep the Coalition off their planets, she’d assumed that the RimWorlders would want to enjoy their Guild-free existence.
“After, we sail to Zufon Ventini’s dig” the Captain said. “To ferry artifacts.”
“It’s the easiest money we make, Ryf. I’m not complaining. Feels good to sleep on something soft, with a ready meal when I want it and plenty of hot water for washing.”
She sighed. “And no bad news to dread.”
Novi could sense the woman’s palpable emotions. The ceasefire had come into effect only six months ago. These RimWorlders were still mourning their losses from the brutal war, she realized.
The Captain changed the subject. “You miss bounty hunting, Zin?”
“It’s what we grew up with” she confessed. “And are feckin’ good at.”
“I’ve been thinking” Soren mused aloud. “Not every corporation in the Invun Welds is like the Guild. Many are smaller, with ill-equipped private forces. They could benefit from our services. Perhaps, it’s time we offered to work for others, not just Venn Corp.”
“I’m game, Ryf” the woman agreed, almost eagerly.
“I’ll put the word out that we’re open to other offers.”
“Just not the Guild” she said emotionlessly
“Never the Guild.” The Captain’s lilting voice hardened again.
For a few breaths, the woman sipped her mihado silently.
“Still trouble sleeping?” he asked quietly.
The woman shot him a look before glancing away. “It’s better, Ryf. Don’t worry about me so.”
“Who will I worry about, Zin, if not you?” the Captain countered lightly.
Her expression softened again, the tightly-stretched skin of her face relaxing in a subtle indication of her affection and ease with the RimWorlder Captain.
“I’m eager to go hunting again, like the old times. But it won’t be the same without him.” The Captain’s voice was poignant.
Her dark eyes showed emotion. “No, it won’t.”
There was a quiet despair in her voice that struck Novi, though the woman continued to look blank and emotionless.
“Give it time, Zin.”
The familiar sound of a buzzer echoed through the chamber.
“Cap’n” greeted a lilting male RimWorlder voice.
“All aboard, Kali?” Soren asked.
“Aye, Cap’n.”
“To the Star Portal.”
“Right away, Cap’n.”
Shyte. Shyte. They’re leaving Idriko.
Novi scrambled, scurrying down the passage to the walkway. Then, almost sprinting down the walkway to the hatch into Space Bay. Stopping only to collect her case from beside the toolbox, Novi hurried through the passage she’d originally climbed through. As she reached the access panel in the Bay, the Cruiser seemed to lurch slightly. In the confined space, its effect on Novi was exaggerated.
No, no, no. Please YanTeo. Buy me just a few seconds to get off this ship.
Novi abandoned her camping gear in the hatch to leap down into the Bay. But something, a subtle vibration under her feet, told her that it was already too late. She’d been on enough crafts to recognize the vibrations of a slow-moving vessel. Novi hurried across the Bay to the console platform. There were sensors embedded in the hangar’s space door.
Novi’s heart, already thumping hard, sank as the feed from the Bay door flashed on the console. The Cruiser had undocked from the Star Portico and was moving away. The receding lights of the Portico docks twinkled faintly through the swirling blackness of space. Dread unfurled at the pit of her stomach.
There goes Idriko. Watch over me, YanTeo.
Should have left when I got what I came for. Always too curious for my own good!
Now, she was a stowaway on a Renegade Cruiser heading for the Badlands, in search of a Synth with a Guild bounty on his head. Novi reflected gloomily that on a good day, even a single prospect of the litany that confronted her would be enough to doom her. Of course, combined together, it put her in a colossally catastrophic position. Yet, she had no recourse except to bide her time and wait for an opportunity to present itself. Hopefully, the Cruiser would dock again at a Portico where she might make her escape.
As Novi crossed the Bay to scramble back through the access hatch, she felt a pang. It would be nice to tell Wy that she’d seen the legendary Ryfkin Soren in person. Well, more or less in person, she amended silently. But Wy would not worry about her. She was slated to be off Idriko for ten days. He wouldn’t expect to hear from her. Only after, would Wy make inquiries about a missing employee.
AMAZON
www.petralandon.com/Star-Child
THE
MERCENARY
The Araloka Chronicles
A spirited and resilient girl, a fierce warrior with a mighty heart, a fiery passion amidst the embers of war & a love that will alter the fate of their corner of the galaxy.
AMAZON | GOODREADS
One
Saakshi surrendered to temptation, casting a surreptitious glance at the large gray-skinned male seated at a distant table. An aura of danger and unapproachability radiated from him, his aloof mien a stark contrast to the good-natured bonhomie of the other patrons in the alehouse. The corner table, away from the crowds and shaded by the awning branches of an artificial tree that bordered the Promenade, served to accentuate his distance from the other customers. She suspected that the table had been carefully selected to allow him his solitude. A brief lull in the mad crush of patrons to Trader Pik’s provided a welcome respite to the overworked server girls. It allowed Saakshi to rest her aching feet, catch her breath and restock the bar with clean goblets before the next horde of customers swamped them again. She also used the opportunity to sneak a quick peek at the Hadari’Kor male. As she had half expected, the alien male’s dark eyes rested on her. As their gazes tangled, Saakshi’s heart gave an uncomfortable lurch. She glanced away hurriedly, snapping her eyes back to the bar to resume polishing the goblets vigorously.
He was fairly blatant in his regard, seemingly unconcerned with hiding it from his fellow patrons carousing in the alehouse. Pik’s was laid out like a half moon with the identically shaped bar she stood behind as its epicenter. The open seating area circling the bar offered Pik’s patrons a view of the Promenade, as well as tables tucked away in the corners to afford more privacy. The Promenade was the main thoroughfare on the space station and tended to be noisy as well as busy most days – this was a station that never slept. The Trade Sphere hummed with activity throughout the day, its strategic location in neutral space driving a steady flow of traffic to it from all corners of Sector Araloka.
This was his third visit to Pik’s this week – she’d been keeping count. He had patronized this particular alehouse on the station a few times a week since the second week Saakshi had commenced work here. That had been a little over two months ago.
Over time, she’d managed to glean a few details from his regular visits to the alehouse. He always timed his visits to coincide with her work hours, usually striding in by himself but occasionally accompanied by another Hadari’Kor male. He always seated himself at a table away from the crowds but assigned to the other server girl. Since Pik insisted that his girls work in pairs, there were at least two server girls on duty all the time. And he always drank Terilian ale – a pale liquid that, Saakshi knew from personal experience, burnt a fiery path as it slid down tongue and throat. He kept to himself, seemingly content to spend his time at the alehouse in silent contemplation or in quiet conversation with his occasional companion. And he watched her. Pura, how he watched her! The intense black gaze followed her as she went about her tasks at the alehouse, observing her with an intent Saakshi had been unable to decipher.
A single hostile glare from those dark eyes was enough to deter any patron who dared to approach him. She’d hear occasional whispers of HadKor around him, but he never let on if it bothered him. Saakshi rather thought it didn’t. She had never felt threatened in any way by the intense gaze. The other server girls would occasionally tease Saakshi about her silent admirer, but they all agreed on one thing: he epitomized their ideal customer. He made sure to buy a steady stream of drinks, never attempted to harass any of the server girls and always tipped generously. Life would be a lot easier for the server girls if more patrons followed his example. Over time, Saakshi had learnt to ignore the heavy-lidded dark eyes that followed her intently. But in recent weeks, she could swear that she was starting to see his hot gaze in her dreams.
A sudden commotion at the entrance to the alehouse drew Saakshi’s attention. Four Ketaari males had just walked in and seemed poised to seat themselves at a table assigned to her.
“Sons of swines” Saakshi muttered under her breath, exchanging a look with the other server girl. Enara, who was Budheya like her, could well appreciate her sentiments.
Engrossed in silent condemnation of the Ketaari with Enara, Saakshi almost missed the Ketaari male who’d broken away from his entourage to head her way. A brief glance at the familiar face was enough to spur Saakshi to stoop down hastily, hoping the wide five-foot high bar would hide her from the Ketaari. Her heart pounded as she hugged the floor, praying that the Ketaari hadn’t caught a good glimpse of her. The Ketaari male’s footsteps halted on the other side of the bar, directly across from where she crouched, her heart filled with dread. The seconds droned on, the Ketaari male making no move to rejoin his entourage. From her sanctuary behind the bar, a desperate Saakshi implored Enara with a muted gesture to attend to the Ketaari. She barely knew the other server but was counting on Enara’s Budheya heritage to comprehend the situation. Over time, most Budheya had learnt to inculcate the instinct necessary to gauge the intentions of the Ketaari. And some had even perfected the art of dodging the attentions and demands of the Ketaari who ruled over their world. After all, the lessons were imperative to their very survival. That is how the Budheya had survived a hundred and fifty years of servitude to the Ketaari; helped along by a nascent but resilient resistance movement.
From her crouched position behind the bar, Saakshi watched Enara walk over reluctantly to come to a stand beside her.
“What may I serve you at Trader Pik’s?” Enara asked the Ketaari male, polite and formal to a tee.
“I want the other Budh female” demanded the arrogant male voice.
Enara’s expression tightened for an instant before she turned her back on the male to walk away. Saakshi guessed that Enara’s stiffness was a result of a rude gesture from the Ketaari male. It could also be the derogatory way he’d referred to them as Budh, one of the myriad ways the Ketaari had perfected the art of degrading the Budheya people.
Saakshi directed a glance full of mingled gratitude and apology at Enara and took a deep breath to steady herself before standing up to face the Ketaari. He bared his large teeth at her in a predatory attempt at a smile. Saakshi gazed back at him silently, all expression carefully blanked out.
“You look very familiar, Budh. Where have I seen you before?” he remarked, more as a query to himself than her.
Saakshi cursed her luck silently. The hand that clutched the underside of the bar turned white with strain even as she struggled to not reveal any sign of her anxiety. The Ketaari’s eyes raked her upper body, the only part of her not concealed by the bar she stood behind. His eyes roved over the sun-kissed olive-toned skin, the abundant dark hair that fell to her shoulders in waves and the too-thin body dressed in the form-fitting uniform of Trader Pik’s server girls. The uniform was a garish one-shouldered red and gold top worn over red trousers. The fabric gathered in a subtle knot over the right shoulder to cover her right arm, leaving her left shoulder and arm bare. It was designed to allow the sleeve over her right arm to conceal the broad ownership bracelet she was obligated to wear on that wrist.
Saakshi forced herself to stand unflinching under the leering gaze of the Ketaari male until his eyes fell on the intricately woven tenar mesh armband she wore high on her left bicep to identify her Pura. The Ketaari had banned all religious expression on Budheyasta. On her home world, Saakshi was not allowed to wear her armband, but on this space station, she wore it with Pik’s permission. When Pik had bought her prison contract, she’d requested to be allowed to wear the symbol of her religious house openly like her un-subjugated ancestors had once done. The Ketaari male’s expression tightened with anger at the sight of her pura tenar band, and Saakshi gave up the façade of nonchalance to wrap her arms defensively around herself.
“What do you want?” she asked in Alliance Standard, abandoning any pretense at politeness.
Her words caused the male’s eyes to snap from her armband back to her face.
“What is your name, Budh?” he demanded in Ketar, the language every Budheya child was forced to learn, per the laws of the Budh-Ketaari Empire.
Saakshi remained silent, not trusting the next words out of her mouth.
The male leaned his stocky body over the bar to invade her personal space. He spoke again in Ketar, more forcefully this time.
“What is your name, female?”
“Saakshi neh Merama tik Ulmik pura Bedana” she answered proudly.
The Ketaari threw back his head to laugh uproariously with genuine amusement.
“You Budh are hilarious. Two centuries of being trodden under Ketaari feet has not stopped you from clinging to your useless old traditions” he gasped out, amidst his laughter. The pale blue eyes glowed in the pasty face, his forehead ridges standing out in stark contrast to the rest of his oddly smooth facial skin.
“What do I care about your family or religious affiliation? The rebels have gotten one thing right. They’ve dropped the song and dance to adopt simpler names” he remarked, his face still lit up by amusement.
Duh, the rebels shorten their names to be anonymous and prevent bringing down any Ketaari recriminations on their families or religious houses. What a clueless son of swine!
“Speaking of rebels, I think I finally remember you” he retorted. “You used to run with Tilabok’s cell. Your little group imagined itself quite a thorn in my side, I know. Fancy meeting you here - what a small universe it is.”
Saakshi’s heart sank – she’d so hoped he wouldn’t remember her. There had been barely any contact before her capture and imprisonment on Budheyasta. And why would there be? She’d been a lowly new recruit to the resistance cell, while he had been the regional commander, determined to brutally squash the resistance.
Before Saakshi could respond to him, a loud thump rang out abruptly, eliciting a skittish jump from the girl already on edge and alarmed by the Ketaari commander’s remarks. Her heart still
pounding uncomfortably fast, Saakshi glanced around bemusedly, only for her attention to be drawn to the Hadari’Kor male she had been surreptitiously observing before. The male’s big palm rested face down on his table, his expression one of urgent demand. As her eyes rested on him in some confusion, he brought his hand down forcefully again to demand her attention. Saakshi gaped at him, utterly flabbergasted by his uncharacteristic action. In all the time she’d observed him, he had never drawn attention to himself like this! As her astounded gaze tangled with his, he crooked his finger at her imperiously to gesture at his empty ale mug. Saakshi, still in the grip of shock, continued to stare at him blankly. Suddenly, Enara was by her side, murmuring softly to her, but loud enough to be audible to the Ketaari male whose attention remained focused on Saakshi to the exclusion of everything else.
“Go take care of your customer” Enara advised in Alliance Standard, gesturing at the Hadari’Kor male.
“I’ll handle the Ketaari table” she declared with a speaking glance, giving Saakshi a gentle push towards the table where the Hadari’Kor male waited with seeming impatience.
Saakshi threw Enara a grateful look before making her way slowly to the Hadari’Kor male. Her heart pounded and her hands trembled visibly from her encounter with the Ketaari. Saakshi unhitched her order tablet from the uniform belt slung low at her hip as she came to a stop by the Hadari’Kor male’s table. Her grip on the tablet tightened unconsciously as she glanced tentatively into the eyes of the alien male who had spent most of the past two months blatantly checking her out. The black fathomless eyes stared back at her, his expression impassive.
“Terilian ale, piping hot” he directed at her. His voice was deep and low with a slight husky timbre to it, almost as if his throat was scratchy.
He spoke in Alliance Standard, though they were both equipped with clearly visible translator devices. Saakshi fumbled with the controls on her tablet to record his order, her hands shaking. When she glanced up from the tablet again, she caught his eyes on her trembling fingers. His dark eyes traveled back to her face leisurely, his expression still curiously blank.
