by J. N. Chaney
I wondered how these rich holo stars and politicians could justify living in such excess, wasting credits that could have been spent elsewhere. I understood the appeal of the scenery, certainly, but there were other beaches on other worlds that were hardly this expensive.
No matter. Let them waste their lives away in luxury, having their orgies and drug fueled parties, drinking their ten thousand credit champagne and eating apples from private orchards.
Meanwhile, I’d be in my ship on another world, stealing and looting, going from one end of the galaxy to the next, seeing the universe in the process. And not from some holo on a beach, but with my own two eyes. That was freedom.
And that’s what being a Renegade was all about.
We passed a large tiki lounge with about a dozen people sitting in cushioned chairs and drinking out of fancy glasses. “Hold on a minute,” I said, stopping when we neared an empty barstool.
“What is it?” asked Calista.
“Think you need me for the meet? Or do you have this one?”
“Why? Do you need to do something?”
“Ah,” said one of the two men as they pushed the cart along. “If you would like to partake in any of the local services, Mr. Tribune has allotted you seven drinks each, should you like them. He has also set aside a massage appointment.”
I motioned with my head to the bar. “Great, I had to pass one up on my last stop. I could use a drink first, though.”
“Alright,” Calista said. “I can meet you here later. Give me an hour?”
“Sure. Use the comm if you can’t find me, but I don’t plan on going anywhere unless it’s for a rub down.”
She nodded and continued, along with the two servants. I wasn’t about to let those drink vouchers go to waste, but I also had things to do. The gal-net signal was strong on Quarra, which meant I could get a clear signal on any calls I made. Perfect time to catch up with a few business contacts.
I entered the gate to the seating area near the tiki lounge and popped down in the corner, my brown coat feeling heavy in the sun. I decided to remove it and set it on the nearest chair.
Several eyes fell on me, all from people who looked like they’d never done a single day’s labor in their lives. I noticed an assortment of disgust, curiosity, and annoyance.
Seemed about right.
“May I help you, sir?” asked a man, suddenly standing in front of my table. I wasn’t sure where he’d come from.
“Yeah, I’ll take a glass of your best whiskey,” I told him.
“How would you like that served? Ice? A mixer, perhaps? We have a fine selection of different—”
“Neat,” I said. “Just the whiskey.”
“As you wish,” said the stranger, vanishing out of thin air with the last word.
I was confused for a brief second before I realized I’d just been talking to a hologram. Of course this place would have something like that, even outdoors in a casual lounge. This was Quarra, after all.
A small slit in the table opened. I hadn’t seen it before when I sat down because of how well it blended in. The trap opened and a small glass rose to the top, a generous serving of whiskey inside. I picked it up and set it down closer to me, letting the slit close.
“All that for a godsdamn drink,” I muttered, staring at the glass before finally taking a sip. It was smooth, hardly any burn. Definitely the best I’d ever had.
I set the glass back down and decided I’d wait to drink myself into a stupor until I made my calls.
But where to start? There probably wasn’t enough time to do them all in one sitting, not in the hour that Calista would be gone, so I’d have to prioritize.
I tapped my ear. “Siggy, how’s our little prize sitting?”
“Are you referring to the data stick, sir?” asked the AI.
“The very same,” I told him.
“Scans show it is still in the same place you left it. The scrambler is in working order.”
I didn’t expect Calista to find it, but I preferred not to underestimate anyone, especially another thief.
“Is something on your mind, Captain?” asked Sigmond.
“I’ve been debating what to do with that thing, but before I decide, I need to know the true value of it. Think you can reach out to our fence and get me a price?”
“Certainly, but how shall I word the description?”
My fence was Oran Yanko, a former RBO agent I’d met during the first few months of my fledgling Renegade business. He was my main contact for any goods I found that weren’t exactly clean, but I knew better than to completely trust him, which is why he only knew me by an alias.
“Reach out to Oran and tell him I’ve come into possession of a data cache, formerly Union. Don’t mention how we got it, but say it contains blueprints for weapons and ship designs. Cutting edge tech. If he’s half as smart as I think he is, he’ll already know about it from his contacts in the Union.”
“Understood, sir. I’ll send the transmission under your Robert Everett alias.”
“While you’re doing that, put me through to Fratley. It’s the middle of the day where he’s at, and I owe him a call.”
“Yes, sir. Stand by.”
I owed Fratley a small fortune for the Star, but I wasn’t worried about that. He was a little crazy, known for killing anyone who didn’t deliver what they owed, but you didn’t get into this business without making a few unsavory partners along the way, and so far, Fratley had yet to pull any surprises on me.
It was around this time that I noticed the nearby celebrities—or whoever they were—had gone back to ignoring me, their curiosity seemingly depleted as they resumed their narcissistic conversations about the latest fashion trends.
I decided to get up and walk to the beach before my call with Fratley. Despite the sun being directly overhead, the temperature was still comfortably warm, likely a result of a weather management system. I imagined it must always be this way, lest the guests be unhappy. They couldn’t allow a hurricane or rainstorm to hit these resorts, after all. Imagine the loss in revenue. It would be a travesty!
After a short stroll, I found an empty canopy daybed in the sand. The ocean waves glided across the ground in a relaxing motion while a young couple walked together in the distance. I took a seat, easing back inside the shade of the canopy and staring out into the water. The sunlight reflected in the distance, dancing like a perfect fantasy, because that’s exactly what all of this was.
“Sir, I have Mr. Fratley for you,” said Sigmond suddenly.
I let out a short sigh then touched my ear. “Put him through.”
There was a short pause. “Jace, is that you?”
“It’s me,” I answered, pulling out a small pad from my pants pocket. “I wanted to talk to you about—”
“Your debt? I can’t give no extensions now.”
“I’d never dream of asking. I’ve got another five thousand credits to send you. That’s this month, plus the next.”
“Oh! That’s music to my pretty little ears if ever I heard it! You must be flooded with work, hm? Seems like it if you’re making enough to pay above the minimum.”
“It’s been mixed, but I lucked out with a recent job. Had to fire my old RBO, though.”
“Max? Yeah, I heard about that. Tough break. And how about the ship? I hear you were in a few scrapes.”
“Nothing too bad,” I said.
“Good. It’d be unfortunate for you to lose it before you’ve even cleared the debt you owe on it.” He chuckled, and I heard a woman in the background squeal. “Come here, sweety. Get daddy some more stix.”
Ah, stix. I’d never had it myself, but I knew it was one of the more expensive drugs on the market. I’d even seen Fratley snort it on occasion. The side effects included paranoia and irrational behavior, but only after so many years. But the former Renegade had always delivered when I needed something, and so far, he’d yet to give me any reason for concern. I hoped it stayed that way.
“Sounds like
you’re having a good time over there,” I said.
“Better than good! Got me a few girls over. You know, Jace, you ever wanna stop by, you’re always welcome. I’ll show you what you can have if you work hard. I wasn’t always the man I am now.”
“Fratley, baby, come get in the pool!” called another girl.
“In a minute!” he barked. “Now, Jace, tell me the real reason you’re calling.”
I figured he’d pick up on that. It wasn’t common for me to call him when I made my deposits, and there was a reason I’d given him double the pay. “Things are getting more…” I paused, trying to find the right word. “… difficult, running jobs out here. Between the Union and the Sarkonians, there’s less room to move around than ever.”
“So, what? You want me to get you some better guns for that ship of yours?”
“I was thinking about a cloak, actually. Something to let me stay under the radar.”
“A cloak?” Fratley went quiet for a second. “Been a while since someone asked me for one of those. You know how rare they are?”
“I can only imagine,” I said.
He scoffed. “Imagine? I don’t think you can. You remember how much your ship was? A cloak will run you triple that. More, once you add interest.”
The Renegade Star had been roughly thirty thousand credits, and I’d gotten it at a discount from Fratley. In exchange, I had to make steady monthly payments to him and agree to do some odd jobs whenever he called—for free, of course. I knew a cloak would run me pretty high, but I also knew I needed it if I ever hoped to succeed in this business.
The Union and the Sarkonians were at war, both directly and indirectly, and the Deadlands stood between them as neutral space, but that wasn’t going to last. Already, the two superpowers had invaded border colonies and seized them, claiming the territory as their own, along with whoever happened to be living there. Every year, the Deadlands grew smaller, and every year we all lost a little more freedom.
A cloak might not save me from the inevitable, but it would at least keep my ship flying a little longer. With enough credits under my belt, I could retire early and find a place to settle down, maybe own my own moon like Fratley did.
“I’m willing to pay it, so long as the price is fair,” I finally told him.
He laughed. “Fair? Ain’t no fair price for anything, Jace. You ought to know that. But I’ll tell you what,” he said, lowering his voice. “I just so happen to know a guy who makes a living salvaging Union ships. Some days, he gets lucky and finds a cloak, sometimes weapons. I’ll put out a feeler, see if he gets us anything. It’s going to take time, just know that.”
“Understood. I appreciate it,” I said.
“See that you do, Jace, because I don’t do this sort of thing very often, but you’ve been early on your credits,” he told me. “And hell, maybe I like your spunk. Reminds me of a younger me!”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
He chuckled again. “Alright, Jace. I’m gonna snort some stix, get my ass in the pool, and spend some time with my girls. Go get me some more money.”
The line went dead.
I sat up in the canopy and grabbed the glass that still contained a swig of whiskey. I glanced out at the shoreline in the distance, more relaxed than I had been only a few short minutes ago, and downed the drink in one fluid motion.
Time to get another.
22
I woke in my quarters ten hours after I had come in and fallen face-first onto the bed. The room spun in the darkness and a wave of nausea rolled over me. I waited for it to pass then sat up slowly.
“Where are we, Siggy?” My voice came out in a dry rasp and I fumbled around for the water I kept on hand.
“Aboard the Renegade Star, sir.”
My hands found the bottle and I drank greedily, trying to ease the discomfort of my parched throat. It wasn’t a graceful action and some of the liquid dribbled down my chin, prompting me to swipe it with the back of my arm. “No kidding. But where, what system?”
My head was pounding and I had to focus on his response.
“Still on Quara. Captain Hughes, it appears that you are experiencing another hangover. If you would proceed to the medical bay, I would like to run a scan.”
A groan escaped me before I got it under control “No need, Siggy. Once I get rid of this headache, I’ll be fine.”
“Ah, very good. I believe you will find what you need in the nightstand.”
“Lights on, ten percent. I can’t see anything.”
A dull glow lit the room, just enough for me to find what he was talking about: a stash of headache blockers that I had put there a few months ago and forgotten about. I washed them down with more of the water and started to feel better almost instantly.
Once the haze began to clear, I remembered most of the night before. Calista had made her final delivery and been ready to leave. By then I’d already used all my drink credits and decided not to stop there. Not used to the finer liquor, I’d overindulged. The station master refused to let us undock, even though Sigmond had offered to do all the piloting.
“That’s better,” I said, getting to my feet. “Where’s the client?”
“Calista is in bunk one. She has requested that we leave as soon as possible. Also, she would like you to know that if we do not make Taurus Station our next stop, you will not get your fee.”
I chuckled and headed to wash up. “How long until we can join the queue and get out of here?”
“Approximately twenty minutes, sir. Would you like me to put in the request?”
“Yeah, you do that. Let’s go home, Siggy.”
Thirty minutes later, I was more or less back to normal and we were cruising through open space, headed for the slip tunnel that would start our journey back to Taurus. Sigmond suggested I eat a large bowl of oatmeal to offset the headache, citing it as a cure for hangovers.
Apparently, my AI liked to surf the gal-net in search of helpful information to better assist me. I wasn’t so sure that giving him access to all of the net’s data was wise, but I let it go. Deep down, I had always been a little uncomfortable giving so much control to a computer. Sigmond, however, had proved reliable and interested in keeping me alive. Of course, none of that was him. His programming dictated that I was his master and his goal was whatever I wanted.
There were too many things that could go wrong with advanced technology, and all the scientists said they made sure artificial intelligences couldn’t become sentient. It was bullshit if you asked me. If the Union could make a super intelligent computer, they would. Then they would weaponize it. I didn’t think the technology existed, at least not for us. Maybe some advanced civilization in another part of the universe had done it, but they had yet to bother with us. Or maybe it was just us humans, spreading through the stars like insects and that was all there was.
I sat in the cockpit by myself, not wanting to wake Calista just to let her know we were leaving Quara. There was a good chance that she was pissed at me for getting too drunk to leave, so I decided to hold off on that conversation.
It was quiet and I leaned back in my seat, comfortable in my solitude. Sigmond hadn’t reported any issues with the data stick, so that gave me the freedom to just relax and think about next steps.
Namely, how to ensure that I kept getting contracts that would help me pay off the Star. I hadn’t really wanted to call Fratley to ask for another loan, but this trip had opened my eyes to a few hard truths that I now had to consider.
First, there were jobs out there where some cargo could be tracked and become a major pain in the ass. Second, wealthy people would pay obscene amounts of credits for ancient relics. Unfortunately, said relics were also risky, but they were worth it.
That’s where the fancy cloak came in. If I could block any potential tails and competition, that would give me an edge. Hell, Ollie would probably be inclined to give me jobs other Renegades couldn’t handle if I had the cloak. By that logic, I
could pay off the Star and the cloak in a matter of months and be free and clear.
Despite my initial misgivings, working with Fratley hadn’t been all that bad. So long as the man got his money, he didn’t pay me much attention. What was another couple of months? As far as I was concerned, there wasn’t really a downside unless I was somehow killed. Being dead, I wouldn’t have to worry about Fratley.
“Sir, I have an incoming transmission from Mr. Trinidad.”
I glanced at the holo and frowned. We were nearly to the Slip Gap Point, and I didn’t want to just sit outside of it chatting. “Put him through, but he better be quick.”
My agent’s face filled the display a second later. “Jace, glad I caught you.”
“What’s up, Ollie? We’re just about to enter a slip.”
He nodded. I noticed that while his expression wasn’t exactly grim, his lips were flattened, and he wasn’t smiling like he usually did. “Then I’ll be brief. There’s been an update regarding your… visitor.”
Tensing, I straightened in the captain’s chair and met Ollie’s gaze. I hadn’t been sure that his man would be able to get any information on the man that tried to kill me on my own ship, but it looked like I was wrong. “The uninvited guest?”
“That’s the one,” he replied. “I’ve been informed that this wasn’t another Renegade, as I previously expected. The assassin was indeed a Union operative. A former Union operative, that is. He was fired quietly for stealing secrets just over eighteen months ago.”
“Quietly?” I asked. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means the government didn’t want to admit that one of their own is a domestic terrorist. Since then, he’s gone dark and managed to evade capture. No one knew his whereabouts until he showed up at your door.”
“So why exactly did he try to kill me?”
Ollie glanced down as though checking his notes. “His name was Arman Kodak, and data suggests that he was the operative responsible for the data stick going missing. The one you gave to the Sarkonians. Since no one knows about his death, it’s assumed that he still has it.”