Vengeance

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Vengeance Page 3

by Raymond Cooper


  “Activate the identification beacon,” I said.

  “Done the minute we broke atmo,” Theron said.

  There was always a few moments of tension when signaling a spaceport for clearance to land using a fake ID beacon. I could never feel one hundred percent sure that it was going to work. It was a crapshoot every time and was always on pins and needles until we were cleared to land.

  Using a false identification beacon was something I'd learned from a couple of smugglers I'd paid to show me the ropes. In addition to weapons and combat training, I'd also made sure I got a crash course in criminal behavior. I needed to learn how to work on the wrong side of the law – and do it smartly.

  The beacon would identify the Umbra as another ship entirely. Given the reputation we were earning, we needed to stay as far off the grid as possible. Though some thought us heroes, others were less generous in their descriptions of my ragtag little crew.

  With how many cargo transports we'd attacked and blown up, our biggest critics labeled us terrorists. I suspected the people pushing that narrative in the intergalactic media were on Boygan's payroll. Or, they were just beyond ignorant and didn't realize we were taking down illegal smuggling operations and not just blowing up transports for fun.

  Either way though, I really didn't give a damn. I wasn't about to let anybody's opinion of me deter me from my mission. My crusade. Boygan was going to die by my hand, and I didn't care if I had to blow up a thousand ships to get to him.

  “We've been cleared to land,” Xavix said.

  “Good. Take us in,” I replied.

  Rather than the main spaceport landing pads, we rented a private hangar. It just made more sense for the cargo we were usually hauling around with us. The fewer eyes on what we were carrying, the better. But, private hangar or not, we still needed to get through the planetary customs agents.

  “Theron, is the cargo secured?” I asked.

  He nodded. “All but invisible.”

  “Good.”

  Xavix piloted us down to our hangar and landed the ship with a gentle thump. He's always been better at landing the Umbra than me. I powered down the ship and lowered the ramp. Taking a deep breath, I stood up and followed Xavix and Theron to the hatch to wait for our visitors.

  A moment later, a pair of men in the gray and white customs uniform of Acrov appeared on the ramp. Both were carrying data pads and had sidearms on their hips. Though they worked customs, they were still part of Acrov's military and, as such, men not to be taken lightly.

  “Permission to come aboard,” said the first man.

  “Granted,” I replied.

  The two men climbed aboard the Umbra and gave me a nod. They'd inspected us on prior visits and had always been pleasant enough. But then, the Acrovians seemed to be generally pleasant people overall.

  “Captain Wills,” the first man said, calling me by my assumed name. “Welcome back to Acrov.”

  “Lieutenant Shynt,” I nodded. “Nice to see you again.”

  “Likewise,” he said. “You okay?”

  I nodded again. “Yeah, fine,” I said. “Why do you ask?'

  He shrugged. “You just seem a little tense.”

  I gave him a laugh that I hoped like hell didn't sound as phony to him as it did to me. “Just tired, I guess” I said. “We had a long trip.”

  He looked at me for a long moment and then gave me a tight smile. “Well, we won't keep you any longer than necessary,” he said. “You know the drill.”

  “Of course,” I replied. “The ship is yours.”

  “Appreciate the cooperation as always,” he said.

  We stood aside while Shynt and his man headed for the cargo hold, checking my manifest against the one we filed on their data pads. I gave Theron a sideways glance, a nervous flutter in my stomach. You would have thought that with as many times as we'd gone through this already, I wouldn't worry that Theron had gotten it right. But, every single time customs agents came on board, I got nervous.

  The smugglers who'd trained me to hide cargo were among the best around and had been very thorough in their instructions. That didn't stop me from worrying a bit either though.

  “Relax, Gemma,” Theron whispered. “Everything's secure. We're fine.”

  “Yes, Gemma,” Xavix chimed in, “I just completed a scan on you and your heart rate is elevated, as is your blood pressure. I would suggest – ”

  I turned and shot Xavix a glare that made him cut off his words. He was slowly beginning to understand the nuances of human behavior – though he still had a long way to go. He was well versed enough, though, to know that when I gave him that look, it was best to stop speaking. Never let it be said that Xavix didn't have an uncommon wisdom for a droid.

  We had to wait a few more minutes, my tension growing with each passing second. Finally, Shynt came out of the cargo area, his face buried in his data pad. His assistant went down the ramp without a word, leaving us there with his boss. A moment later, Shynt looked up and gave me a small smile.

  “Everything checks out,” he said. “I appreciate your cooperation, as always, Captain Wills.”

  “Never a problem,” I replied. “Thanks for making the inspection quick and painless.”

  “We try to be efficient,” he said. “Now, go get some rest and enjoy your stay on Acrov.”

  He turned and walked down the ramp and I closed the hatch behind him. When it was secure, I leaned against it and let out a long breath, relief washing through me.

  “You really need to work on your poker face, Gemma,” Theron laughed.

  I glared at him. “As soon as you start working on your 'oh my God, we're all gonna die face,' whenever we run into trouble.”

  Theron chuckled, but his cheeks flushed, and he fell silent. I'd obviously hit a little too close to home for his liking.

  “From a purely physiological standpoint, Gemma,” Xavix said. “Theron isn't wrong in his concerns – ”

  I gave Xavix that glare again and even held my finger up to emphasize my point. My robotic friend wisely chose to not finish his statement. I cleared my throat and ran a hand through my hair.

  “Okay,” I said. “I have to see somebody about our cargo. Xavix, you stay here and keep the ship secure. Theron, go and do – whatever it is you do when we have some down time.”

  Theron gave me a grin and snapped me a small salute. “Thank you, Captain.”

  He turned and punched the button that opened the hatch and practically sprinted down the ramp. I looked over at Xavix and shrugged.

  “I guess he's got a girl here?” I asked.

  “That seems a reasonable assumption,” he replied. “Speaking of which, finding yourself a little male companionship might help with your stress levels – ”

  “Wow, so you're telling me that I just need to get laid,” I said and laughed. “You're becoming more and more male by the day.”

  “I was merely speaking from a – ”

  “Shut it,” I said. “I've got work to do. The last thing I need is for you to start acting like a pimp.”

  “A pimp?”

  I laughed and turned, walking through the hatch and down the ramp. That was not a conversation i was going to have with Xavix.

  “Secure the ship,” I called over my shoulder.

  Chapter Five

  The interior of the bar was dim. Gloomy. It was one of those places where people went to be anonymous. Where nobody ever sees or hears anything. At least, they didn't unless they were paid well enough to stab you in the back. But, for the most part, this was one of those places in Old Town the more well-heeled of Acrovian society would refer to as the dark underbelly of criminal activity.

  It was the sort of place I once shunned, but now felt right at home in.

  Sitting in a booth near the back of the place, I had a view of the entire bar. I could see who was coming and going. Sitting where I was also allowed me to make sure nobody got behind me – another tip I picked up from tutors well versed in the dark underbe
lly of criminal activity.

  Having finished my meal already, I was sipping from my mug of Acrovian Ale, waiting. Glancing at my chronometer, I felt a small spike of irritation. He was late. But then, he usually was. It was just his way of trying to reinforce the notion in my head that he was in control and had the upper hand.

  He didn't, but it cost me nothing to let him think he did.

  Finally, the door to the bar opened, the bright sunlight of the afternoon streaming in behind him, and the man I was waiting for walked in. Dressed in a long cloak with a hood pulled tight around his face, he looked ridiculous. Given his short stature, the roundness of his midsection, shock of white hair, and purple-tinted skin, he was instantly recognizable. Most anybody who did business in Old Town knew who he was.

  The man scanned the bar and when he saw me sitting in the booth at the back, he headed in my direction.

  “Do you know how ridiculous you look in that get up?” I asked.

  He slid into the booth beside me, peering out at me from beneath his hood with his scarlet-colored eyes.

  “A man in my position has to be careful,” he said. “I have many enemies.”

  “You also have a very overinflated sense of yourself,” I said and chuckled. “And delusions of grandeur.”

  Bruq looked at me and pursed his lips. He was a dealer in most all things illegal. If you wanted to buy or sell some contraband, he was the man to see. But, he wasn't some kingpin running a vast criminal empire. At heart, I knew that Bruq was a coward. If there ever was an attempt on his life, I had no trouble believing he'd fall to the ground, curl up in the fetal position, and cry his eyes out.

  Bruq went out of his way to make sure he didn't have enemies. He tried to be all things to all people. He had no taste for combat. No taste for a fight. What he had was a taste for money and quite obviously, for good food. He was a slimy businessman, nothing more and nothing less.

  “Do you know what they're calling you these days?” Bruq asked.

  “Besides an intergalactic terrorist?”

  “They're calling you the Pirate Queen,” Bruq said, a sharp back of laughter escaping his throat. “The Scourge of Deep Space.”

  “Catchy,” I said.

  “Indeed,” Bruq replied. “So tell me, Pirate Queen, what do you have for me today?”

  “Some things you might be interested in,” I said. “But first, do you have what I asked you for the last time we met?”

  Bruq shook his head. “Unfortunately, I do not,” he said. “Boygan is a hard man to find. A man who, if he doesn't want to be found, won't be found. None of my contacts has gotten a whiff of him.”

  I banged my fist on the table. “He has to be out there somewhere,” I growled.

  “Yes, he does,” Bruq said. “But you don't get to be a man in his position – or mine, frankly – without knowing how to remain in the shadows and out of sight.”

  I rolled my eyes at the continued self-aggrandizement of the man. You'd think I would have been used to it after dealing with him over the last year or so. But, his penchant for inflating his own ego never failed to make me shake my head.

  “I will keep endeavoring to get his location to you,” Bruq said. “It is, after all, in my best interest to see you succeed in your quest.”

  “Yes, it is,” I said.

  I nodded. I believed that Bruq would do as he said. It really was in his best interest to have me take Boygan down. After all, with a major player in the contraband items market gone, somebody like Bruq could and would step in to fill that void. He stood to make a pile of cash if I completed my mission. Hence, his motivation to help me do that.

  “Now, on to the business at hand,” he said. “I believe you have some items I'd be very interested in.”

  I leaned back in the booth and took a sip of my drink. Bruq was shrewd when it came to doing business. Which was just another way of saying he's cheap as hell and would try to lowball you every chance he got.

  That was a lesson I'd had to learn the hard way – after he'd bottom dollared me on a number of things. Because of my naïveté and inexperience when it came to dealing on the contraband market, he'd taken advantage of me. But, at least, it was a lesson I'd learned.

  “I sent you the inventory list, I believe,” I said.

  Bruq pulled out his data pad and punched a few buttons, pretending he was looking over the list of items we'd seized from the Star Queen. He frowned and made a few disapproving noises. It was all just part of this theater. His role was to be that of a hard, but fair, buyer.

  It was all bullshit and I knew it.

  “Why do we go through this every single time?” I asked.

  “Go through what?” he asked, not looking up from his data pad.

  “I know you've already gone through my inventory list with a fine tooth comb,” I said. “And yet, here you sit, pretending to be seeing it for the first time, clucking and snorting away like you'd be doing me a favor to take these things off my hands. You do realize I know what you're doing, right?”

  He finally looked up, turning his scarlet-colored eyes on me. A slow, reptilian smile crossed his lips as he put his data pad down and sat back in the booth.

  “Well, look at you,” he said. “You're growing up right before my very eyes, Gemma Sage.”

  I rolled my eyes again and took another drink, annoyed by the condescension in his voice. Yet another man who thought he was better and smarter than me. As if I didn't get that enough already.

  “So, make me an offer then,” I said. “A grown up offer, Bruq.”

  He sighed and rubbed his jaw – pretending to be considering his offer. Which, of course, was just more theater. Bruq already knew how much he was going to offer me. I just sighed loudly and shook my head.

  “I can give you fifty thousand for the lot,” he said.

  I laughed out loud. “Fifty?” I asked, eyes wide with disbelief. “You've got to be kidding me.”

  “It's a fair offer, Gemma.”

  “Bullshit,” I said. “It's not even close to a fair offer and we both know it.”

  “Sixty,” he said.

  “Bruq, I know you're going to turn around and deal these for four times what you're offering me.”

  He shrugged. “I'm a businessman, Gemma,” he said. “I must make a profit to stay in business. That's just how it works.”

  “Yeah, you turn a massive profit,” I say, “while me and mine assume all the risk. It's a pretty cushy deal.”

  He spread his hands out in front of him in an apologetic gesture. “It is the price of doing business on the black market,” he said. “I doubt you would get a better offer from the Acrovian government – or any other legal channel, for that matter.”

  “One hundred,” I said, my voice flat, but firm.

  He laughed softly and shook his head. “Sixty five.”

  I took a long drink of my ale, pretending to be considering his offer. Hey, if he could engage in a little theater, I could too. I set the glass back down and looked at him evenly.

  “One hundred,” I said.

  The small, smug smile on his lips slipped, just a bit. I was clearly getting under his skin. He sighed dramatically.

  “Eighty,” he said. “And that is my final offer, Gemma. I can guarantee you won't get a better deal anywhere.”

  “Final offer?”

  He nodded. “Yes, that is my final offer.”

  I drained the last of my ale and stood up. “Okay,” I said. “I know I can get a better deal from one of your rivals. I'm quite certain they'd love a chance to stick it to you.”

  I turned and walked away from the table, knowing I wouldn't get very far. If there was one thing Bruq hated more than anything, it was his rivals getting over on him.

  “Wait.”

  His voice stopped me after just a few steps and as I turned back to him, a slow, predatory grin crossed my face. He motioned to the booth.

  “Please,” he said. “Sit.”

  I slid back into the booth and
stared at him. The pleasant smile he usually had on his face was gone completely. He looked annoyed – which only made me smile wider.

  “I must say, you certainly have grown up in a short amount of time, Gemma Sage,” he said. “You've learned what it is to drive a tough bargain.”

  “After getting screwed over by you so many times, I didn't have much of a choice, Bruq.”

  He shrugged. “You call it getting screwed over,” he said. “I call it being a shrewd negotiator. I do, after all, have to eat.”

  I looked at his belly pointedly. “Something you clearly do,” I said. “And as much as you have to eat, I have to keep my ship operational and pay my crew.”

  He spread his hands out in front of him again. “Fair enough.”

  “Which brings us to our current impasse,” I said. “I won't take less than one hundred for my cargo. You can make that up by what you charge to your buyers, I don't care. But it's my ship and my crew who assumed the risk – ”

  He held up a hand to quiet my down. “You've made your point, Gemma Sage,” he said. “One hundred it is.”

  “Good,” I said. “We have a deal then.”

  “It would appear so.”

  I stood up from the table feeling victorious. I'd stood up to Bruq and had come out on top for a change. Damn, that felt nice. I turned to him, trying to keep the smug smile off my face – and finding it somewhat difficult to do.

  Bruq smirked at me. “You are most definitely earning your nickname, Gemma Sage,” he said. “The Pirate Queen.”

  “I'll take that as a compliment.”

  I turned and walked out of the bar, unable to keep the smile off my face.

  Chapter Six

  I walked through Acrov's famed garden, one of them anyway, admiring my surroundings. I've never been much of a nature lover, but I had to say, these gardens were really something. Everywhere I looked was a riot of colors. Flowers and plants I'd never seen before bloomed everywhere and the air was saturated with a fragrant aroma that was strong, but not entirely unpleasant.

 

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