Star Warrior

by Isaac Hooke

  “Nice.” He glanced at Sinive. “I assume you have these introductory Branchworks? How come I never see you creating any flames or air currents?”

  Sinive shrugged. “Level zero in a Branchwork is the equivalent to a party trick. I never was a big fan of party tricks.”

  “Some of them might have come in useful against the kraals,” Tane said.

  “Sure,” Sinive said. “Assuming I was rested enough to do anything, I could’ve made tiny flames appear on my hands. I’m sure that would have sent the kraals running away to their brood mommies. Great plan.”

  He returned his attention to Wayala. “When do I get to see what Branchworks you have for sale?”

  A new sharing prompt appeared on his screen and he accepted.

  Air Current. Level 1. Let’s get windy! Launch a gust of air with enough power to forcibly topple an unarmored man. Note: ineffective against energy shields. Essence drain: low.

  Essence Missile. Level 1. Now you’re playing with the big boys! Launch a missile of pure Essence at an opponent. Energy shields offer no defense against this particular Branchwork, and damage is delivered directly to underlying Battle Armor, if any. An unarmored foe has a good chance of instant death. Essence drain: medium.

  Persistent Flame. Level 1. A flamethrower in the palm of your hand! Create a stream of superheated flame two meters long from your hand. Energy shields will absorb the fire up to their rated charge levels. Essence drain: medium for short durations, high for extended durations.

  “That’s all you have?” Tane asked.

  “That’s all I have,” Wayala replied. “It’s only a small sampling of what you’ll find from an official Essence Trader on Talendir.”

  “How much do you want for one of these?” Tane asked.

  “They range between fifty to a hundred thousand credits each,” Wayala said.

  “Geez,” Tane said. “Don’t you have anything for under two thousand?”

  “Sorry.”

  “How much is Essence Missile?” Tane asked.

  “One hundred thousand,” Wayala said. “Firm.”

  Tane tried to focus on the list on his HUD, wanting to review the different options again, but found his attention waning. He was just too tired.

  “Gah. I feel awful,” Tane said. “I'm definitely spending my attribute point on Endurance.”

  “I almost thought you had forgotten about the extra attribute I promised,” Wayala said.

  “I never forget what people owe me,” Tane said. He held out his hand. “Whenever you’re ready.”

  Wayala programmed another vial and then injected him in the back of the hand.

  He felt better immediately. “That actually worked.”

  “Yes,” Wayala said. “Endurance is almost a palliative for us Branchworkers. You can never have enough of it.”

  He pulled up his latest stats.

  Name: Tane Ganeth (Spoofed: George Oblast)

  Race: Human

  Level: 2

  Class: Hydroponics Farmer (Spoofed: Laser Dentistry)

  Strength: 9

  Intelligence: 9

  Dexterity: 8

  Endurance: 12

  Charisma: 7

  “I kind of regret wasting my money on Dexterity a few days back,” Tane said.

  “Oh, Dexterity helps, too,” Wayala said. “Especially for the more complex Branches, where it’s a race against time to finish before the work completely distorts.”

  “Keep in mind that certain Essence Imbued items can boost Dexterity and Endurance,” Sinive said. “So don’t just think you have to invest in your attributes alone.”

  “That’s a good point,” Tane said.

  “It’s a fine balancing act trying to decide where to spend your hard-earned credits,” Wayala said. “But it’s always that way, isn’t it? Speaking of which, I have some fine battle armor here that does in fact provide boosts to both the aforementioned attributes, plus Strength as well. Though you’ll have to purchase the necessary skill to use it. You mentioned you had some weapons you wanted to trade?”

  Tane and Sinive started dumping the weaponry they’d looted from the Umbra onto the countertop. Tane decided to hang on to his harness and the grenades he had left, as well as the smart-targeting D18 plasma rifle, but everything else was fair game.

  “I’ll give you forty-five thousand credits for the lot,” Wayala said.

  “Forty-five?” Tane said. “That’s it?”

  “These aren’t the most amazing weapons I’ve ever seen,” Wayala said.

  “What if we included our spacesuits in the sale?” Tane asked.

  “Considering that yours is covered in mud and I’ll have to clean it…” Wayala tapped her chin. “I’ll give you five hundred for them both.”

  It’s not mud, it’s kraal blood. But he decided not to mention that. Then again, Wayala might just know, given her knowledge of the Dirac.

  “I was really looking forward to picking up some of those Essence skills,” Tane said.

  Wayala shrugged. “Sorry.”

  “I know the basics of Essence Missile,” Sinive said offhandedly. “Level zero equivalent. I can show you some Branches to practice.”

  Wayala merely gazed at them, wearing a “good luck with that” expression.

  “If you know Essence Missile, why didn’t you use it against the kraals?” Tane said. “Wait, never mind. You weren’t rested enough.”

  “That, and it’s also level zero equivalent,” Sinive said. “Meaning: I can’t do it every time. Plus with the tiny amount I’m able to Siphon, it doesn’t do very much damage at all.”

  In the end, the Battle Armor, while sexy, proved too expensive, plus Tane couldn’t afford the basic skill needed to equip it, so he decided on fresh batteries for his energy shield instead, plus another point of Endurance, bringing the attribute to lucky thirteen.

  Regarding the shield batteries: he and Sinive tried giving the small shield devices to Wayala so she could attempt to charge them; the proprietor went in the back and returned a moment later to report that the batteries were simply too old to take a charge. “But I can throw in fresh batteries for another ten thousand credits. Per shield generator.”

  Since he sold his spacesuit to the woman, he began stripping it off, leaving his street clothes underneath. His hoodie would protect him from the facial recognition algorithms of any cameras in the city, hopefully. Maybe someday he’d be able to afford a blurring attachment for the hood so he wouldn’t have to worry about the facial recognition algorithms.

  Without the servomotors of the suit to counter the slightly stronger gravity of the moon, he felt the extra weight of his body again. The sensation wasn’t too bad, however, and he quickly got used to it. He suspected his chip was helping him adapt in some way, automatically increasing the oxygen to his muscles maybe.

  Finished doffing the suit, Tane slid the D18 rifle back onto his shoulder—the stock and trigger area resized to fit his bare hands. He secured the nearly empty personal storage device to his belt, and tightened the harness with its hanging grenades around his torso. He inserted the fresh battery he’d purchased into the energy shield, then secured the small device to his buckle and interfaced with it via his HUD, activating it. This time it stayed on. He reached out with one hand to confirm it was active, and at the half meter mark from his body, a thin blue outline surrounded his fingers. The shield allowed him to interact with items beyond the energy barrier, or to do things like shoot at targets with his rifle or throw grenades, but prevented objects, plasma bolts and laser beams from passing through the other way. How long it could deny those objects depended on the shield’s Damage Absorption rating, as well as its current charge.

  “Probably not a good idea to walk around with that active,” Wayala said. “You’ll get a lot of people cursing your way when they’re shoved aside.”

  “Point taken,” Tane said, deactivating it for the time being.

  After buying the shield battery and the extra Endurance attri
bute, he still had about nine thousand credits left over as part of his portion of the loot sale, but he decided to hold onto that for potential item or skill upgrades in the future.

  Sinive picked up the same shield battery with her proceeds, and nothing else.

  “I’m saving for a ship, remember?” she told him while taking off her own spacesuit. She was undressing far slower than he was, he noted. Sinive must have been way more tired than she let on. He realized that she really only had a few hours of rest after her last jump.

  Sinive finished removing her spacesuit, revealing the white dress underneath. It was a bit rumpled after being pressed against her body by the suit all that time, but otherwise none the worse for the wear. His eyes drifted to her bandaged shoulder, but he noticed nothing out of the ordinary.

  She reattached her storage pouch to the utility belt she wore outside her dress, and holstered the single pistol she had retained from the loot. Like his weapon, the grip had shrunk to fit her unclad hands.

  “Actually, I have something else you might like,” Wayala told Sinive. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  Before Sinive could answer, the proprietor vanished into the back of the shop.

  22

  Tane shifted impatiently from one foot to the other while he waited for the proprietor to return. “I wonder what she’s getting for you? And why it’s taking so long?”

  “You seem more excited than I am,” Sinive said.

  “You got it all wrong,” Tane said. “I’m not excited: I just want to go. My biggest worry now is that she’s going to rob us.” He glanced at the main door, half expecting to find some of those unsavory types from outside waiting by the entrance, but it remained clear.

  “Stop being so paranoid,” Sinive said.

  “If you had both the TSN and aliens looking for you, you’d be paranoid, too,” Tane said.

  “By hanging out with you I’m essentially hunted by the TSN and your aliens friends as well, you know,” Sinive said.

  “I suppose you are, at that,” Tane said.

  Wayala finally emerged. She wasn’t intending to rob them after all, unless the long, silver armband she carried was some special weapon. The item had a strange “snake with wings” design etched into the surface.

  Wayala was smiling at Sinive; her gaze drifted to Sinive’s shoulder, where the ripped dress sat oddly over the bandage, and Wayala stared at it as if noticing the injury for the first time. The proprietor quickly averted her eyes, which was the polite thing to do, and instead caressed the armband. “It’s pure Chrysalium. Try it on.”

  “No, I shouldn’t,” Sinive said.

  “Go ahead,” the Lady insisted. “Wouldn’t you like to be able to boost the damage you can inflict with your Essence Missile?”

  Sinive tried it.

  “Using this, even with your limited Ability, you can almost Siphon as much Essence as a lower level Volur,” Wayala said. “Opening up a whole new world of Branchworks.”

  “I can’t afford it I’m sure,” Sinive said.

  “For you, eighty thousand credits,” Wayala said.

  “It is tempting, I admit.” Sinive removed the armband. “But like I said, can’t afford it.”

  Sinive eyed the armband longingly after setting it down on the counter, but Wayala kept talking, extolling its virtues for the next two minutes, and haggling back and forth with Sinive over the price. Sinive hemmed and hawed and finally broke when the price hit thirty thousand.

  Sinive transferred over the credits and immediately snapped the armband to her bicep. When it was secure, she glanced at Tane and broke into a big smile. “Now this is more like it!”

  “I take it you can Siphon more that usual?” Tane asked.

  “A helluva lot more, yeah,” Sinive said.

  “Thank you for your business,” Wayala said. She emerged from behind the counter and began ushering them toward the door. “You two have a nice day, you hear?”

  “You scared she’s going to change her mind or something?” Tane asked Wayala.

  The proprietor merely smiled politely and continued ushering him toward the exit.

  Tane raised his hood before leaving the store. Sinive retrieved a headscarf from her personal storage pouch and wrapped it over her hair as well, letting the lace fringe fall low over her face.

  Wayala locked the door behind them and digital signage that read “closed” overlaid his vision.

  “So much for saving for a ship,” Tane told Sinive as they walked away. He nodded toward her armband.

  “Shut up,” Sinive said. “I’m already getting buyer’s remorse.”

  “We also need to save some money to take a ship to Talendir,” Tane said. “Or at least I do.”

  “Nebb will come back for us,” Sinive said. “So that’s completely unnecessary. Besides, are you sure you really want to give yourself up to the Volur? Especially since you know you can Siphon now? What if you’re actually powerful enough to join their ranks? Then they’ll never let you go.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing,” Tane said. “Maybe I’ll finally get some proper training. Or they’ll fund my nanotech upgrades.”

  “Keep dreaming,” Sinive said. “Listen, why not stay here, keep a low profile for a while? Enjoy your freedom while you can, and make up your mind if you really want to go at a later date?”

  “That’s probably a good idea,” Tane said. “Though any freedom I have will only last until Lyra gets in touch with me.”

  “Assuming she survived the Umbra,” Sinive said.

  “Oh she did, I’m sure of it,” Tane said.

  “Yeah, suppose so,” Sinive said. “Just as I’m sure Nebb survived.”

  “By the way, Lyra and Jed are still offline,” Tane said.

  “So is Nebb,” Sinive said. “Plus the two robots. But he’ll be back eventually. I expect to receive a message from him long before he’s close enough to appear online, though. Probably tomorrow or the day after, letting me know that he made it safely through the Anteres Rift.”

  Tane walked on through the squalid district in silence, and once more temporarily disabled his digital augmentations to avoid the profusion of unwanted sexual advertisements. Best to keep his vision clear in case of an armed robbery attempt...

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Tane said after a moment. “What say we celebrate our recent cash windfall with some grub?”

  “Grub, is that what you Outrimmers call food?” Sinive said.

  “Well yeah, you do speak English, right?” Tane mocked her in return.

  “And what we had wasn’t exactly a windfall,” Sinive continued. “But I’m pretty hungry, yeah. Let’s get some real food.”

  “Restaurant?” Tane asked.

  “Yessiree,” Sinive said. “You want to do some celebrating? I know this great place.”

  “You know all the good places don’t you?” Tane said.

  “Let’s just say, as a smuggler you get around,” Sinive told him.

  “We’re talking about getting around planets, right?” Tane said.

  “Of course!” Sinive said. “What did you think I was talking about?”

  “Never mind,” Tane said.

  “You have a dirty mind,” Sinive said. “I like it.”

  “Great minds think alike,” Tane said.

  “I hate that saying,” Sinive told him.

  “I forgive you,” Tane said. “By the way, you sure you’re not too tired to go to a restaurant?”

  “Never too tired to eat,” Sinive answered.

  “My kind of girl. Will they let you in with your dress like that?” He nodded at the rip over her bandaged shoulder area.

  “Hey, they’ll be happy to take my money, trust me,” Sinive said.

  They made their way out of the seedy quarter into a more decent side of town, if decent meant the paint wasn’t peeling and synthetics weren’t soliciting sex from the shop windows. The citizens still looked rough, and many carried weapons that looked a lot more badd
ass than what Tane or Sinive had, sometimes with personal shields to boot. No one bothered them, however.

  They arrived at a restaurant called “Fataja’s Mahanas,” and when they entered a serving robot promptly ushered them to a small booth.

  “Ever had Daaenan food?” Sinive asked from where she was seated across from him.

  “No,” Tane said. “Never.” He pulled up the menu on his HUD only to find himself greeted by a bunch of strange sounding dishes. A sampling: D’eake La’eeps and B’reste N’augants. “Uh, Dick Lips and Breasty Nuggets? I just want some unleavened dough. And maybe a game bird thrown in.”

  “I got you covered,” Sinive said.

  Tane ordered water for himself from the menu, and let Sinive order the main course for him.

  “So what did you get me?” Tane asked.

  “You’ll see,” she said with a mischievous grin.

  Tane shook his head. “Never trust a smuggler to order for you in a restaurant.”

  “Is that one of your rules?” Sinive said.

  “It certainly is now,” Tane told her.

  “Trust me, you’ll like it,” Sinive said.

  The serving robot deposited two glasses of Daaenan wine a few moments later.

  “I ordered water,” Tane told the robot.

  The eyes on the animated visor assumed a confused expression. “But the order clearly stated wine...”

  “It’s all right,” Sinive told the robot. “I updated the order. He’s drinking wine.”

  The robot bowed and walked away.

  “Geez, and I thought I was a control freak,” Tane said. “Probably a girly drink.” He took a sip of the wine. It was extremely sweet and didn’t taste alcoholic at all. “Yup, a girly drink. And you claim you’re not a Girly Girl?”

  “Oh, just shut it,” Sinive said.