Heritage Lost

by S M Wright

  "You don't show it." Mina shoved her hands into her bulky sleeves. "Everything just happens, and it's like it doesn’t impact you." The girl pinched her lips with her teeth.

  In the background, a bubbly singer gushed about her alien lover.

  "Magistrate officers undergo specialized training," Katya said, "to control ourselves. It wouldn't do for a captain to show their fears and uncertainties to their crew; we have to be above that." Robotic. It's what her eldest sister had said of her behavior afterward, though Zhihao had always been standoffish toward her.

  Mina leaned forward, a question burning behind her pensive face, but she never asked it.

  The singer continued her sickeningly sweet song. When the song changed to a synth dance beat, Katya stood, draped her soiled towel over her shoulders, and picked up Sotiris. Small beads of sweat covered his brow, signs he'd been in the warmer environment of the cockpit too long.

  "I haven't forgotten about the clothes and mess in here." Katya paused by the door. "I expect to see them to be gone before we reach port tomorrow."

  Mina bobbed her head; however, it matched the beat of the song, leaving Katya to sigh as she exited the cockpit. Once in her quarters, Katya shivered against the frigid tundra it'd become. She deposited Sotiris into his crib before stripping off her sweaty clothes for fresh ones after a quick shower. She then settled in her chair and busied herself on her slate, taking advantage of Dandis VII's network.

  She lost track of time while she trolled newsfeeds for Magistrate movements that pertained to them, but nothing struck her as out of the norm. If they were being sought, it was being done off the record. The Aletheia's destruction remained pinned on Plasovern, but the press divulged hardly any information on how it'd been destroyed . . . and life went on.

  Achoo! Katya set the slate aside as Sotiris stirred and sniffled. He squawked when she lifted him back into her arms, and his large sleep-encrusted eyes fixed to her face. A yawn escaped him.

  "Lucky for you, I think you've had enough physical therapy for the moment."

  She paced with him, making cooing noises while rocking him.

  "Ah, our princess had just returned from the witch's den." She settled in her chair, resting Sotiris's head against her shoulder. "Now what? Hmm . . ."

  She strained for further adventures. A dragon loomed in her mind, a symbol that'd spanned cultures, planets, according to her father. It took on various meanings and served as both antagonist and guide.

  "Ah, yes, she'd bartered with the witch for the potion to save her brother, but almost home, she found her path blocked by a dragon, its scales pitch black." She brushed a finger against his cheek. "It had three heads, each with a different attack! One decimated the soil with just one great fireball, scattering it high in the air. The second sent out numerous little balls that tore trees to splinters. And the third, well, you'd hear it whizzing and then BANG! There'd be no time to even duck. The dragon's breath alone blackened the sky in a way the princess had never seen before.

  "Her horse, frightened, bolted into the pines." The words flowed, pouring out of her mouth. Perhaps her father's storytelling skills hadn't been lost on her after all. "Fire followed her, scorching the trees and snow. The creature burned it all . . ."

  She swallowed and adjusted herself in her seat, shifting Sotiris so his head rested in the dip of her arm. His eyes popped open at the motion but closed as her voice resumed the story. "She escaped riding fast; her steed, after all, was no ordinary horse. No other one could match him in speed. When she burst through her city's gates, she rushed to the palace, giving her mother the potion." The heat had made it worthless, or perhaps more worthless than it'd already been. She flinched. "And then she warned her father of the scourge. He prepared his armies, sure it would descend on them." Lines of men in long, thick jackets—khaki, almost green . . . brown straps, shining metal.

  "There were factions on her planet. Some believed the dragon was a lie, accusing her father of using it to increase his military might; or worse, that he controlled it. It happened so fast, the princess setting aside her dresses and days spent roaming for troop inspections. Then, the dragon struck, and it was as if they'd all lost"—their minds—"their wills to the dragon."

  Her voice faltered. "There were causalities, steep ones. She'd visit—" A hunched man in a khaki uniform, he wouldn't face her. A bottle cast off to the side, its amber liquid largely drained. A young lady, military dress, yet wearing pearls . . . she'd grabbed her hands. Katya flexed hers against the soft cotton of Sotiris's PJs. "She'd visit them, the wounded and those serving." The words cascaded from somewhere within her. "She'd wanted . . ."

  Black boots collided with the snow and her breath caught as she swiped tears away. Sotiris didn't budge, even when she bent over him.

  She knew how the story ended: blood in the snow, a ruling family eradicated, and a world left in upheaval, smothered in smoke and ash. She'd read enough about Mramor to know. During it, that hand . . . it'd disappeared. She covered her mouth, breathing into her left hand in an attempt to ground herself against the tremors shaking her frame. A hand. She could almost see it now, long forgotten, dredged up by Sotiris. It stretched out toward her. She followed up its coated arm. Wool—dyed in a khaki, almost green—made up the uniform. A smile, lopsided, not unlike her own. The acrid metallic scent of antiquated gunpowder clung to him, permeated his clothing. Her mind failed. It couldn't fill in the blanks beyond the mouth and that smell long confined to reenactments.

  Katya blanched at a sharp pain in her head. Sotiris's tendrils filtered their way in, drawn to the activity, eager to piece it together. She shot to her feet, clearing all her thoughts. She deposited the toddler into his bed and tucked him in. Then after grabbing her slate, she fled the memories, her nosy ward, and that hand. She only stopped when she reached the cargo hold, where she fell into the first steps of the Gorgian dance to douse any remaining interest Sotiris might have.

  Dandis VII made a decent-sized speck in the foreground of a swirling, rusty-cream gas giant, Areos. Katya navigated the Minerva through the cluster of traffic that whizzed around the enormous station, similar to bees around a hive. Mina whistled as they drew closer and forgot her duty to get approval to dock at Section 25, Port 34, where their contact and the other half of their payment waited.

  Katya cleared her throat.

  "Ah yes!" Mina swung over to the console and broadcasted their purpose and destination. "This sure beats the other ones we've visited. What makes this place so special?"

  "Some stations take off and others just don't." Katya's brow furrowed in deep concentration after approval flashed across her screen, and she brought them in. "The gas giant likely brought Dandis VII a lot of wealth, and by the looks of it, they just kept adding on. Soon word spread. Naturally, people jump when they hear about a place of opportunity. Then when people realized the Magistrate placed few restrictions out here, even more came, only not the right sort."

  Mina quirked an eyebrow. "Why's the galaxy filled with delinquents?"

  "Sentient nature." Katya smiled, one corner of her mouth higher than the other. "But in all seriousness, riffraff tend to group together, especially when you have a strong government like the Magistrate. They go where there's less oversight."

  Gritting her teeth, Katya weaved through traffic, a swarm of freighters and personal crafts. Her screen highlighted their course to their destination. It, however, did not account for crazy pilots cutting into her path en route to their own destinations.

  "Krezk." The Riautus curse word was barely audible as she pressed her fingers against the control panel to clear a sleek personal craft that zigzagged into their path before leaving it. The guiding light on her console turned an angry shade of red when it blinked at her. "I'm correcting!"

  "At least they don't give it a voice."

  "Yeah, I imagine she'd be screaming at me right now." Katya put their ship back on course and into Port 34.

  A variety of ships already resided there,
with Katya resting the Minerva next to one of the personal crafts in a spot highlighted by yellow and orange blinking lights. Rolling her head from side to side, Katya stretched the aching muscles in her neck while she initiated the cool down sequence. Outside, a group of people approached their ship with wheeled carts.

  "Our welcome party desperately wants their tea," she said.

  "Will we then have time to explore the station?"

  "Why not." Katya stood, her back cracking as she stretched upward. "It's not terra firma, but a station's just as good when it comes to stretching the legs. We'll stock up."

  "More hair dye?" Mina lift strands of her much longer hair, which had returned to its normal burnt umber. The girl had compensated with a bright yellow shirt, gold eye shadow, and ruby lipstick. The makeup stash remained bountiful at least.

  "If you use your own pay."

  Her red lips peeled back as she flashed her white teeth at Katya. "Good thing I've saved up." She flipped her hair from her face. "I don't feel like me right now."

  "What color?"

  "Purple and black. I found a tutorial." Mina winked at her. "If I have extra—"

  She shook her head. "No thank you."

  With unnecessary systems shutting down and the com systems and controls locked, Katya exited the cockpit along with Mina. As they were about to pass Katya's quarters, the teen almost entered them.

  "Leave him here," Katya said, already at the ladder. "He's in one of his deep sleeps, and I don't want to risk it. We won't waste too much time exploring."

  "How much time are you allotting to exploring the station?"

  Katya laughed as she swung her legs over the edge and placed her feet on the rungs. The slight edge in Mina's voice—worried her shopping spree wouldn't happen—hung in the air, all too palpable.

  When Katya reached the cargo bay floor, she called up, "Just enough."

  She didn't hear the girl's response over the noise of the hatch being opened by Rein. Katya clapped him on the shoulder so he'd hear over the gears and clamps. "Our buyers are outside and waiting."

  He nodded in confirmation.

  The hatch open, she greeted the buyers as they climbed up the ramp. An official-looking man—humanoid in appearance and wearing expensive silks—led the group. His spectacles rested on the end of his nose, which pointed down to his gold-plated slate. The large veins in their contact's neck stood out, a deep blue, barely concealed by the thin skin that separated them from the environment.

  "I am Vel Da'Tarr." He lowered the slate.

  "It's a pleasure to meet you." She extended her hand, which the man took. "And a pleasure to do business."

  "Yes, yes." Vel's head jerked a few millimeters before straightening again. It then jerked again. "The tea is in good order, so I will pay you now."

  Not one for small talk, huh? Katya freed her own slate from her pocket. They synced the two devices, and Vel routed the rest of their payment to the account she had created about a month ago; it was the type that would not be easily traceable, in case they did need to dabble in the illegal.

  "Transaction is complete." Vel's head jerked while he continued his odd cadence. "We have no further needs for a freighter at this time. We will contact you in the event such a need comes. Your contractor might have further uses."

  "We'll check back with him, thank you." Katya bowed her head to him. "We'll leave your men to move the cargo."

  "We will have it out within the half hour."

  Their contact then, with his head jolting ever so slightly as he went, traveled down the ramp, nose once more buried in his slate.

  "A real talker, huh?"

  "They're better that way," Rein said.

  She stepped aside while Vel's men unloaded the tea crates. "It does make it easier."

  Together, she and Rein approached the engine room's door, pausing outside of it.

  "I'm taking Mina and getting a few supplies. Maybe even catch a lead for a new job." Katya shifted her weight between her feet. "Will you stick around until they are through?"

  He seemed to mull over it, and Katya half feared he’d circle round to their unfinished conversation.

  "Yeah, no problem." Rein faced the men as they filled their carts. "Afterward, I'm going to lock up shop and get a drink. I won't stay long though. You two shouldn't stay out too long either."

  Katya gestured to Mina, who remained on the small railed observation deck above, beckoning her to come. "Wasn't planning on it."

  Rein grunted, then cleared his throat. "You're not taking the boy, right?"

  "He's staying put," Katya said as Mina drew closer, chomping to explore. "He'll be fine while we're out. Just leave him be." Katya didn't inform him that her door remained locked, the passcode having been changed, something she had begun to do on a weekly basis. "We'll be back within an hour."

  Beside her, Mina moaned and muttered something under her breath. Rein merely inclined his head, though his gaze lingered on Katya, her skin crawling as it remained.

  Grabbing the teenager's arm, they disembarked. She'd deal with the man another day.

  Along the way, Mina peppered her with one-sided conversation, voicing her dismay that they'd have so little time. Katya let her talk, all the while scanning the bustling bay. Maintenance crews sent sparks flying as they worked on the bay itself. Plus, there were crews set in constant movement, working on a variety of tasks. A few simply lounged, having imbibed too much. The pair walked past all the commotion and entered a large corridor connecting their hangar bay with a cluster of others. Upon entering it, a sickly sweet odor struck Katya. Smooth sticks, a stimulant. They were innocuous enough but often led to harder drugs and the start of a lifelong addiction.

  The door to the station proper swooshed open in front of them, and a set of guards wearing station garb, not a Magistrate mark on them, stormed by, en route to the burners. She shepherded Mina to the side, noting the graffiti along the wall, one in particular. It was small, but that did not make it any less inflammatory. The Magistrate eagle pierced through its heart with its own lance. A Plasovern calling card.

  She nudged Mina through the door to fresh, heavily circulated air. A spacious promenade with lush green plants and seating options greeted them. Travelers mingled in the area, some waiting to board their next ride while others soaked up the artificial rays and socialized. Next to her, Mina whistled and touched a dinner-plate-size leaf that belonged to one of the plants.

  "Stick close."

  "I haven't seen anything this green in a long time," Mina said, pressing her fingernails into the leaf as if to verify it was real.

  Shaking her head, Katya edged her way to a 3-D map. The station consisted of a hodgepodge mess of sections, which lacked any rhythm or reason. They stood in one of the newer sections, which had been added solely to attract travelers passing through. Other sections catered to other needs, from living quarters and Magistrate offices to different markets. A few sections flashed red and warned of travel restrictions and the potential for violence. She settled on a market area two decks above their current location.

  "Come along," she said, grabbing Mina's arm.

  A group of Xanta, an insectoid species, clicked at them as they bypassed them. Their sleek bluish, black shells gleamed in the artificial sunlight. They wore masks over their face, ensuring they could breath in the oxygen-rich station. A few of them bypassed the two women on their way to the elevator, clicking piercingly as they accessed the panel to call for the lift.

  "They're in a hurry," Mina mumbled, her mouth slanting at an odd angle.

  "They have a herd mentality. If one goes, they all go." Katya smiled, only it vanished when a small security drone whirled by. "We'll catch the next one."

  While they waited, two more drones hovered by, less hurried than the previous one. Katya followed their progress until they left the area around a distant corner, and even then, she could only tell by the sudden absence of the glint caused by the overhead lights hitting the drone's metal bodies. The
doors to a lift swooshed open.

  "Step lively now."

  They entered it before more of the Xanta could dart in. Inside, she hit the door mechanism, closing them off.

  "Remember, we're just having a quick look and getting a few basics."

  Mina bobbed her head; however, the vacant expression told her the girl was already lost in her own thoughts. She should mention the large presence of monitoring drones, but the less paranoid they looked, the less attention they'd garner. Mina had yet to develop the skill of being nondescript, untroubled, even when under stress.

  The lift launched upward, Mina having pressed an option while Katya had been distracted. They hurtled past several levels.

  "Where are we going?" Katya asked.

  "Level 20." Mina lifted one of her eyebrows. "It's one of the main marketplaces on this side of the station."

  The lift sped from level to level, making Katya's stomach sink. She almost stopped the lift and returned it to the smaller market she'd originally intended to visit. But she hesitated too long. The lift slowed and halted, its door opening.

  On the other side, variety of sentient beings waited to board: their pace hurried, their whispers barely audible, their gazes dropped, shifting. Katya draped her arm around Mina as they sidestepped the group, which pressed into the lift. Another drone moved through the still-crowded market; shoppers, meanwhile, clung to the sides of the open paths, none leaving the shelter of the awnings set up by many temporary shops.

  "Stick close to me," Katya whispered in Mina's ear.

  Mina's expression grew somber, but she said nothing.

  They joined the crowds along the storefronts of the temporary establishments, made of tents and fabric tarps. Surrounding them and embedded in the station's structure were the permanent stores, including one specializing in parts. Katya made a mental note to visit it. Some parts it paid to have spares in. Mina darted between booths, leaving Katya to race after her. They had to stay close, but her warning had been all but forgotten with the addition of shiny objects and clothing.