by Petra Landon
“How do we do that, Mr. Vedino?” the Commander asked. “Your nodes are only deployed near this section of the Badlands.”
“Sail into Azunti and your Star Hailer will do the rest, once enabled, Commander. The nodes are reachable from anywhere in Azunti or from near the Ring in the neighboring sectors of Panthera and Jaraso” the Synth stated.
That made it easier to use the COM nodes, Zin acceded silently. The Inner Worlds, enclosed by the circular Asteroid Ring, were divided into eight equal pie-shaped sectors, each named after a major star system contained within it. All the sectors backed onto the Badlands. No more tricky sailing into the Badlands to contact the Synth, while dodging hurtling asteroids and attempting to correct erroneous tech readings, she mused.
Soren drew the InnerWorlder’s attention to a riddle that mystified him enormously. “I’ve a puzzle on my hands, Mr. Vedino.”
On the Vista Screen, the Synth turned to the Captain.
“Before the Badlands, we touched down on Fumiko Terra” Soren remarked.
Vedino’s jaw slackened in astonishment. “Realm 3” he whispered, before recovering himself.
“Did the Guild permit you on the world, Captain?” he asked incredulously.
“That’s the puzzle, Mr. Vedino. Sacred Realm 3 is not under Guild administration.”
“Not Guild” the InnerWorlder repeated in confusion.
“No” Ryf reiterated. “It is under the jurisdiction of Venn Corp.”
The Synth stared at the Captain. “I see” he murmured, clearly gobsmacked by the information.
“Could your man have misidentified the planet?” Ryf asked him.
“It is possible, Captain” Vedino admitted. “But unlikely, given that he did correctly determine the world to be a Sacred Realm.”
“Is there a chance we could talk to him?” Soren persisted.
Vedino studied him. “This is important to you?”
“It’s a potential chink in the Guild’s armor and might explain why they want you alive, Vedino. Few such opportunities are likely to come our way” Ryf reminded the Synth.
“Give me a few minutes, Captain” Vedino requested. “Let me see what I can do.”
“Of course.”
As the Synth vanished from the screen, Kali exclaimed. “What’s the Guild’s game, Cap’n? Vedino and his Synths clearly know their tech. Exiling them is much more than unjust, it’s plain stupid. You’d think the Guild would try to exploit their acumen, not banish them to the Badlands.”
“This persecution of Synths makes no sense to me, Kali. Even by Guild standards” Ryf said frankly. “But the Coalition is not stupid. There’s something in it for them, we just don’t know what it is yet.”
“This might explain how Venn Corp was able to get the jump on the Guild” Burok pointed out. “The Coalition is too busy driving the Invun Welds’ best minds away to notice that Venn Corp is beating them with their tech.”
“Venn Corp is after the Synths too, Burok” Vizir reminded the mechanic. “It was Ventini who offered us the bounty on Vedino.”
“That might be because of intel the Guild fed to Ventini” Ryf countered thoughtfully. “Venn Corp will not take any credible threat to the SPL lightly.”
“Something the Guild is counting on” Kali murmured in agreement.
Before Ryf could respond, Vedino’s image flashed on the Vista Screen again.
“There’s a planet called Dirko Zau in the Jaraso sector, Captain. It skirts the Ring” the Synth explained.
Soren glanced at his deputy.
“I see it” Zin murmured.
“It’s a provincial settlement, but self-governed” the Synth explained. “The Guild doesn’t interfere with it because it’s too far from civilization. Plus, it has little of value to offer them to justify the trouble. The planet is currently hosting representatives from other self-governed worlds in the sector. It is an invitation-only event and very few invites have been sent out. They’re leery of drawing any corporate interest to their backwater settlement. But the man who escaped Guild custody will be on Dirko Zau in thirty hours. If you’d like to talk to him, I’ll make sure your Cruiser is on the approved list at Dirko’s Vestibule.”
“Thank you, Mr. Vedino. That would be appreciated.” Soren was pleased at the opportunity.
“He will find you on Dirko Zau, Captain” Vedino said, gesturing to someone off screen. “And answer any questions you have.”
Ryf found himself impressed anew with the Synth leader. Organized, capable and confident, the man would be a good ally to have on their side. He was also well-informed and well-connected to other settlements with reasons to be wary of the Guild Coalition. Vedino’s information intrigued him greatly.
“Are there many such self-governed worlds in the Invun Welds?” he asked curiously.
“A few, Captain. They mostly border the Badlands in the Jaraso sector. Usually, they’re pioneering outposts with tiny settlements; small colonies with minimal populations who make their living off minor claims, co-operative farming and similar occupations that require little advanced tech. Dirko Zau has one of the larger settlements, is the oldest of them all and is better organized than the others.”
“You have free run on Dirko?” Ryf asked softly. Hunted by the Coalition as the leader of the Synths, Vedino was persona non-grata on all Guild worlds. And if Zubiko Ethera was an example, worlds administered by other corporations would not be safe for the Synth either.
“We’ve become familiar with a few independent businesses and settlements who barter with us. Dirko’s leader is a friend. His settlement sympathizes with our cause.”
Ryf contemplated the man on the screen.
“Will we see you on Dirko?” he asked, leaving it up to the Synth to answer the question. A fugitive from the powerful Guild Coalition must guard his itinerary carefully.
“I’m on my way, Captain” Vedino admitted without hesitation. “Perhaps, the Commander and you would join me to raise a toast?”
Cognizant that Vedino was risking his life by revealing his schedule to them, Ryf did not hesitate to accept the invitation. “We look forward to it, Mr. Vedino.”
“Until Dirko Zau, Captain. May YanTeo watch over you and your crew.”
A self-governed world
Dirko Zau was a revelation. Novi had expected a primitive outpost with few facilities, but the planet appeared far from unsophisticated or disorganized. Like most provincial settlements, the Vestibule was little more than a landing pad with some rudimentary traffic control. However, crafts of varying sizes and differing capabilities jostled for docking space in the Shuttle Vestibule and throngs of visitors lined it. A festive air greeted them at the fairgrounds, not far from the Vestibule. Crowds milled around the makeshift stalls selling everything from fresh produce, mechanic toolkits, handmade pottery and fuel crystals. The smell of roasting meat jostled with the fragrance of exotic spices and seidoki leaves to perfume the air. Despite the absence of uniformed guards, organizers with name-tags that identified them as Dirko Zau representatives stood by to answer questions and assist first-time visitors. Clearly, the festivities on the planet were popular in the sector. But unlike the chaos Novi had witnessed on many less developed worlds, the fair was well organized, albeit without the bells and whistles one might experience on a corporation-administered planet.
Novi speculated that the settlement on Dirko Zau might be larger than the one under the Dome on Idriko. The sheer variety of goods on offer reminded her of the open markets at the Ventini Headquarters. But unlike Venn City, Dirko Zau attracted a very different clientele — visitors here were not as well-heeled and had less sophisticated tastes, but also seemed more self-reliant and less dependent on corporation-provided services. In that respect, the crowds were more reminiscent of Idriko’s pioneering and independent-minded denizens. With the subtle difference that on Idriko, like much of the Inner Worlds, opinions against the Guild were always whispered and accompanied by a furtive glance around. On Dirko Zau,
anti-corporation sentiment was open, cheerful and taken for granted.
“This is what a self-governed world on the Invun Welds looks like” Kali murmured, musing silently that it wasn’t all that different from the settlements on the Ren Welds. “I’ve always wondered.”
The Captain, Commander Jeryn and Burok had chosen to stay with the Cruiser while the rest of the crew explored the festivities. The RimWorlders amidst them were greeted warmly at the fairgrounds, albeit with some puzzled stares, while Kidani, Jerik and Novi were not given a second glance.
“They’re lucky to have nothing a corporation covets, Kali” Jerik remarked soberly. “Once they do, they’ll have some hard choices to make.”
“Much like the Ren Welds” Vizir reminded them quietly.
Wy would love Dirko Zau, Novi mused. It would appeal to the streak of independence that characterized him. But self-governed worlds were few and far between. Any settlement that became prosperous or succeeded at a lucrative business tended to attract the attention of the corporations that dominated the Inner Worlds. When a corporation with a private army came calling, one quickly came to terms. History had taught the InnerWorlders that without any soldiers to back them up, there was no cause to fight for. The powerful corporations held the upper hand.
Not for the first time, Novi wondered what their neighbors across the Asteroid Ring made of the Inner Worlds. The Renegades had not fought a bitter and costly war for five years only to abandon their homes and families to play bounty hunters on the Guild Coalition’s patch. Ryfkin Soren and his Renegade crew had come to the Inner Worlds with a goal — to light the spark of a revolution, as the Captain had bluntly indicated to his deputy while a stowaway listened in. But Novi couldn’t fathom how he hoped to accomplish such lofty ambitions. If the Guild Corps had been formidable on the Rim Worlds, they’d be near impossible to dislodge on their own turf. What could a single Cruiser, even one led by the hero of the Five Year War, hope to accomplish against the most powerful corporation to ever dominate the Inner Worlds, she wondered?
Yet, Novi could not but be glad that her path had crossed that of the RimWorlders. Not once did she regret the decision to follow Jerik aboard Ilar’s Justice. The privilege of meeting Ryfkin Soren and his Renegades, despite the inauspicious circumstances, was a dream come true. Heavily influenced by Wy’s aversion to authoritarian rule and corporate ambitions, Novi was a product of her provincial outpost. The corporations’ grip on the more advanced worlds was near vice-like, but they tended to pay less attention to the rural settlements. But more than that, Ilar’s Justice had opened her eyes to the possibilities. Trips through the SPL, into the Badlands and even a pilgrimage to a Sufito Nekthero — all out of reach for the average InnerWorlder.
That her time on the Cruiser had raised uncomfortable and even terrifying questions in her mind was something she grappled with. But Novi, previously toying with requesting the Captain for a more permanent presence aboard the Cruiser, had reluctantly abandoned the idea. The answers to her questions lay under the chamber of the kindred and she had a better shot at another pilgrimage to the shrine as a member of Soren’s crew. On the other hand, given her singular reaction to the Labyrinth, Ilar’s Justice was the most dangerous vessel in the Inner Worlds for her until she could resolve the mystery. Last night, the makh’rel had helped to steady her and stave off some of the consequences of a portal jump. Novi was convinced that the substance itself had been affected by the SPL. After the jump, the radiating warmth and iridescence of the makh’rel had dimmed quickly, to leave behind a chunk of unremarkable black substance in her hand. And she’d been forced to concede that as long as Ilar’s Justice enjoyed unlimited privileges on the Labyrinth, she must steer clear of the Star Cruiser. The answers to her questions had to be found on her own.
“Sir” a voice addressed them to interrupt Novi’s silent musings.
It was a heavy-set middle-aged man with the leathery skin to indicate that most of his time was spent outdoors. The man’s eyes wandered their party to zoom in on Kali.
“Are ye Ryfkin Soren’s crew?” he asked the pilot.
“We are” the big RimWorlder acknowledged.
The stranger’s expression brightened at the response. “My pleasure to buy a round of nau for everyone.” His gaze encompassed the small group of InnerWorlders and RimWorlders.
Nau was a local liquor made from the fermented leaves of a tree found on the worlds in the Jaraso sector. Kali shot a look teeming with questions at Vizir. The seasoned RimWorlders had their instincts kicking in. Though many InnerWorlders had been generous and kind to them, the betrayal on Zubiko Ethera was still fresh.
“What’s this about?” Vizir asked the stranger with characteristic bluntness.
“It is said that Ryfkin Soren hunts bounty in the Inner Worlds” the man explained, his expression hopeful as the sun-warmed eyes alternated between Kali and Vizir. “I’ve a job to offer him that pays handsomely.”
Unspoken communication ensued between Kali and Vizir. Eventually, the RimWorlder pilot raised his shoulder, a gesture akin to ‘why not’.
“I’m Vizir and this is Kali” the weapons officer introduced the two RimWorlders. “We’ll hear you out.”
Kali directed a pointed look at Jerik and Yukon. “We got this.”
Mindful to the subtle signal, Yukon corralled the others. “Let’s go taste some roasting murdo. It smells too good to pass up.”
The stranger, who introduced himself as Rolit Miveki, knew his way around the fairgrounds. Very soon, he had them ushered to an uncrowded corner with containers of foaming nau in their hands.
“You know Dirko Zau well, Mr. Miveki” Kali remarked with an appreciative sip of his ale.
“Rolit” the stranger insisted. “We ain’t formal on the frontier.”
Vizir arched his eyebrow. “Frontier?” he repeated. In his experience, it was usually a derogatory term the Guild used for the Ren Welds.
“It’s what we call the settlements by the Badlands” Miveki responded.
The RimWorlders sipped their nau, content to let their host drive the narrative for now.
“I’m from a small settlement near Dirko” the stranger explained. “We’re about sixty who work a jethrum claim.”
Kali looked startled. “Fuel crystals?”
Miveki nodded. “We mine the crystals and refine it to sell the fuel.”
The settlement Rolit Miveki spoke of was akin to an archaic fuel depot, the RimWorlder pilot realized. Unlike a regular depot, the middleman had been cut out and the miners sold the refined jethrum straight to the settlement’s customers.
“You get much traffic this close to the Ring?” Kali asked curiously. In the Inner Worlds, the closer you got to the Asteroid Ring, the fewer the occupied worlds you were liable to find. This was true across all the sectors. Unlike the Ren Welds where a majority of the settlements were along the asteroid belt.
“Most of our fuel sells to local settlements. It’s not a big claim but we make a decent living.”
The settler took another sip of his nau to gird himself. “Or we did, until a few months ago.”
“What happened?” Kali prompted him.
“A ship came to our settlement four months ago. It wasn’t local but otherwise, it seemed legit. They bought a tank of fuel and spent a few hours on the settlement asking questions about our operation. A few weeks later, they returned. But this time, they were armed. They demanded we fuel the ship or they’d start shooting.”
Vizir frowned. “You have no security?”
“We’re a no-frills business. Our fuel is cheaper than the average depot, but we also don’t produce quantities that justify the expense of security. Still, after the first time, we kept a lookout for the ship. And the next time we saw them, we armed ourselves. But their vessel was equipped with serious firepower. They shot at the landing party from the air and one of our young miners was killed. The rest of us decided that one tank of fuel every few weeks was an acceptable price to pay for
our lives.”
“But it didn’t stop there?” Vizir remarked perceptively. It never did. Looters and bullies only understood one language. He’d seen it time and again on the Ren Welds. And these frontier settlements in the Invun Welds, without a corporate army to enforce the law, seemed to be facing the same issues.
The settler shook his head. “The last time, they brought a fuel-hauler and cleared out every drop we had. It took us two months to mine and refine that fuel. If this continues, we won’t have the money to buy food or supplies.”
Miveki met their eyes. “They nominated me to lead the settlement and I won’t let the miners starve. I’ve been trying to reach out to the Guild and every corporation with a presence in Jaraso. We’re not begging for charity. Our claim is rich and we make a good living from it. We can pay handsomely to drive these bandits away. But I can’t get anyone to even return my hails. We’re too small fry for the corporations.”
The RimWorlders said nothing, waiting for Miveki to lay out what he wanted from them.
The stranger looked resigned. “Dirko is my last resort. I came here to ask other settlers for assistance.”
“And?” Kali asked.
“They’re sympathetic, but there’s not much they can do. There’s little trained law enforcement on the self-governed settlements. We have no need for soldiers. Our differences are settled through community arbitration. Then, I heard some talk about RimWorlders on the fairgrounds. And I remembered what the rumor mills say about Ryfkin Soren and his Renegades bounty hunting in the Inner Worlds. We will pay you with high-grade jethrum if you rid us of these pirates.”
Miveki gazed expectantly at the RimWorlders, his expression a mix of entreaty and anxiety.
“No promises, Rolit” Kali told him. “Cap’n makes the calls on what jobs we take on. But we’ll get you an audience with him to make your case.”