Sons of the Starfarers: Omnibus I-III

by Joe Vasicek

  “So the Outworlds are rallying, then? That’s good news.”

  “That’s not all. Did you hear about Bacca? I just found out on my last trade run that we managed to retake it!”

  “So I heard,” said Isaac. In fact, I was just there.

  “Isn’t that incredible? News sure travels fast with that jump beacon network in place. People on the far side of the New Pleiades learned about it in less than a standard week!”

  So the jump beacon network is an open secret now, Isaac thought. Which means that it’s not a secret at all. The Imperials were probably doing all they could to get their hands on the technology, which meant that the situation was even more dangerous than he’d thought.

  “Where are you off to next?” he asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” said Leo. “I’m tempted to settle down, but with the war opening up so many new opportunities, I’ll probably head back to Vulcana to join up with another convoy. Don’t tell my girl that, though.”

  “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “And what about you? Where are you off to?”

  Isaac glanced over his shoulder at the clothes merchant and the alcove where he’d left Reva. They seemed to be busy enough, and safely out of the public eye for the moment. The last thing he wanted was for an Imperial agent to discover that he was harboring a fugitive.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I figured I’d make a few trades here in the local rift. You wouldn’t happen to know what the prices are like in the nearby systems?”

  Leo frowned, an expression that looked unnatural on his normally cheery face. “I don’t know, Isaac. That doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  He glanced over his shoulder and leaned in close. “Ever since the invasion, there’s been a huge piracy problem here in the Shiloh Rift. Gulchina’s Marauders are at Gibeon, extorting ‘protection money’ from anyone who wants to pass through safely.”

  “Wait, Gulchina’s marauders?” Isaac asked. “Last I heard, they were out in the Far Outworlds.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought too. But the Shiloh Rift offers the most direct path between their usual territory and the Coreward Stars. Gulchina seems to have taken an interest in the war, or at least the stream of refugees fleeing from it.”

  “But she’s taking over whole systems now?”

  Leo shrugged. “I don’t know. Gibeon is the only one I’ve heard of, but if you want to pass through the rift safely, take my advice and head there as soon as you can. It’ll cost you, but this sector is so full of pirates that you’ll be happy you did.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” said Isaac. “How much are they asking?”

  “You’ll have to barter—it’s different for everyone. For me, it was half a ton of Chondarran coffee that I happened to have in my hold.”

  “Half a ton? That’s a lot.”

  “Yeah, but it got me through safely, and that’s more than I can say for most.”

  Isaac sighed, but Leo was right. There wasn’t much he could do except load up a shipment of trade goods and pay what the pirates asked. As long as it got him safely through the rift, nothing else mattered.

  “All right. I appreciate the warning.”

  “No problem. And Isaac, I really am sorry to hear about your brother. He was an honest kid. The Outworlds have lost one of their best.”

  Isaac bit his lip and nodded.

  “Thanks.”

  They embraced and said goodbye, but to Isaac, it all passed in a blur. He almost forgot about Reva, but then he saw the merchant woman carrying another set of clothes back to the curtained alcove. From the exasperated look on her face, she seemed to be running out of patience.

  Better deal with that then, he told himself, glad to have some distraction from his melancholy thoughts.

  * * * * *

  Reva folded her arms and shivered in the cool station air. How cold did they keep this place? It was all because of the clothes. In order to keep themselves from overheating while wearing the useless things, they had to cool down the air to compensate. It didn’t make sense to her, but then again, few things in this culture did.

  The fat woman parted the curtain and handed her another stack of clothes to try on. In return, Reva handed her back a stack of clothes that she’d already tried on. “Not want,” she said simply, and the woman took them without a word. From the look in her eyes, though, she didn’t seem too happy about Reva’s indecision.

  Deal with it, Reva thought as she pulled the curtain shut. If she had to put up with the cold air, the groping eyes, and covering up her beautiful tattoos, the fat woman could put up with a little finickiness.

  She went through the stack and quickly discarded the things she knew she wouldn’t like. Some of the fabric was sticky, some even a bit oily. There was no way she would cover herself in that. Others looked too small or too tight, which she didn’t want, either. She hated the feeling of clothing against her skin. It felt unnatural and constricting, as if she were being smothered. Some of the clothes were better than others, but still, she didn’t like any of them.

  From the middle of the stack, she pulled out a light gray dress that didn’t look tight or clingy. The fabric was so thin that she could barely feel it. It took her a second to figure out how it went on, but after a little trial and error she found that it hung from the shoulders by two narrow straps. The cut was low, covering none of the tattoos on her arms and upper chest, and it fit her loose enough to actually be quite comfortable. She turned to the mirror, and while it still looked unnatural, it revealed just enough that it wasn’t totally obscene.

  There was still the problem of the cool air, though. The dress did nothing to shield her from it. It also lacked pockets or any other type of added functionality. Reva groaned in frustration—how could these people design things that were so useless?

  She rummaged through the pile of discarded clothes at her feet until she found a dark jacket, made of some strange material that seemed tough and durable. The inside lining was soft, though, and not too abrasive on her skin. The hem only reached down to her navel, so it wasn’t long enough to be uncomfortable. And even though it was kind of heavy, she had to admit it was warm. But the best part was the pockets—two on the chest and one on the left sleeve. Perhaps this piece of clothing wasn’t so useless after all.

  The fat woman came back with a couple more dresses, which she tried on and discarded. But from the bottom of the pile, she pulled out a couple more like the first. One was blue, the other a light maroon. She folded them both up carefully—if she had to wear something, at least she would have some variety.

  The belt from the jumpsuit was the last thing that she put on. It was even more useful than the jacket, with plenty of loops and small pockets that could hold stuff. Besides, it reminded her of her father’s utility belt. If she had to keep her tattoos hidden, at least she could remember him through the clothing she wore.

  Maybe that’s why these people have so many different kinds of clothes, Reva realized. Instead of expressing themselves through tattoos or body art, they do it through what they wear.

  She parted the curtain and stepped out into the station corridor. The fat woman had just picked out another stack of clothes, and now that Reva was finished, she rolled her eyes and set them down on the nearest table. Isaac stepped forward and looked her up and down.

  “Is good,” he said. “You want?”

  Not exactly, Reva thought, but she nodded all the same. He turned to the fat woman and pulled out a datachip, evidently to pay her. She put her hands obstinately on her hips, though, and they spent the next few moments haggling. It was as tedious as waiting for henna to dry.

  At length, they came to an agreement and completed the transaction. Isaac took Reva by the arm and led her away, but the woman yelled after them until they stopped and turned around. She tossed something at them, making Reva duck.

  What is it now?

  She looked down and recognized the shoes tha
t Isaac had put on her feet. Evidently, she’d forgotten to put them on again after changing through all those clothes. With a heavy sigh, he knelt down and helped her put them on, fastening them so tight that it almost hurt.

  I wish I knew how to say sorry, she thought as he stood up and led her hastily away. He didn’t seem angry at her, but he was definitely upset. She’d have to make it up to him somehow.

  They walked through the narrow corridors, past the densely packed market stalls and the crowds of people pushing through. She couldn’t see how big the place was, but from the variety of wares she could tell that it was enormous. Besides clothes and robotics, there were foods, spices, datachips, tablets, ship parts, antiques, and trinkets of all kinds for sale. The myriad scents and bright colors threatened to overwhelm her, but she stayed close to Isaac, taking it all in.

  This is my world now, she thought to herself. This is where I need to learn to fit in. Here and there, she caught a word that she recognized. Most of it was just noise and confusion, though. It would take her a while to fully learn the language.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something that looked familiar. Her heart skipped a beat, and she stopped and pulled Isaac back, nearly bumping into the man behind them.

  Is that really—could it actually be what I think it is?

  It didn’t take long to find what she was looking for: a large bag of dried brown powder, sitting between a stall full of perfumes and a stall selling jewelry. An old woman sat next to it, her hair dyed amber and intricate henna tattoos stretching up across her arms.

  “Hello,” said Reva, speaking excitedly in Anuvan. “What’s your name? Are you from Anuva Station too?”

  The woman smiled good-naturedly and bobbled her head to show that she didn’t understand. Even so, Reva refused to take that as an answer.

  “My name is Reva. Reva Starchild. Does that sound familiar? If you’re not from Anuva Station, does it at least sound familiar? Can you understand me at all?”

  The woman bobbled her head again, making it all too clear that she didn’t. Reva’s heart fell, and it was all she could do to keep from breaking down right then and there. When she’d seen the tattoos on the woman’s arms, her hopes had surged, but now they were all dashed.

  “What is it?” Isaac asked. He spoke again, evidently asking her if there was some sort of problem.

  “No, no. Is good, is good,” she said, putting on her best face to hide her disappointment. If nothing else, the woman was selling henna powder—an expensive commodity, but one that Reva knew how to use quite well. The tattoos her sister-in-law had given her would fade soon, and she’d need to replace them. She couldn’t let them fade entirely.

  “Hello,” she said in Isaac’s language, pointing to the bag of henna powder. “I want.”

  The old woman smiled warmly and reached into the bag with wrinkled, shaky hands. She produced a measuring scoop with a built-in electronic scale and measured out what looked like half a kilogram.

  Isaac frowned and folded his arms. For a second, Reva feared that he’d object, but instead he stood by and watched.

  “Good, good,” she said, gesturing with her hands to show that one scoop was enough. For two people, that should last at least a month. The old woman nodded and slowly poured the henna into a clear sealable bag, much like the ones her father had used for carrying fluids in zero gravity.

  “What is it?” Isaac asked. Reva didn’t know the word in his language, so she pointed to the tattoos on her arms. “Ahh,” he said knowingly.

  The old lady sealed up the bag and handed it to her. She struggled to ask how much it would cost, but Isaac stepped in and finished the translation. As he did so, she searched on her belt until she found a pouch large enough to fit the bag. Satisfied, she slipped it in and sealed it up.

  At least these clothes are good for something, she told herself. In time, maybe she could get used to them. But no matter how well she adjusted to this strange new culture, she would never give up the one she’d come from.

  Especially if she was the only one left.

  Deals and Devils

  The star called Gibeon was actually a binary of Shiloh, but the two were so far apart that they were practically separate systems. The only settlement was a small station at about three standard AU, far enough away to be safe from the unpredictable flares. There were no planets around the red dwarf sun, though—only the remnants of an ancient planetary collision, forming a treacherous asteroid field. Thankfully, Gibeon Station wasn’t anywhere near it.

  As he brought the Medea in to dock, however, Isaac saw something more dangerous than asteroids. A massive starship sat just a short distance from the station, looming over it like a dark specter from beyond the grave. Long and wiry, it resembled a giant spider, with dozens of modules bulging out along its legs. As the Medea crept closer, he saw what appeared to be autolasers along the joints, with plasma and projectile cannons closer to the ship’s core. The bridge sat in the center, the large bulbous windows like ugly multi-faceted eyes.

  The sight made Isaac shiver. According to the flight computer, that was the Tamerlane, one of Gulchina’s ships. If there had been any doubt in his mind as to who was in control at Gibeon, it was blasted away by the sight of the pirate warship.

  “Docking control, this is the Medea,” said Isaac. “I’m activating the autodock sequence.”

  “Copy, Medea,” said the controller—an old man, by the sound of it. “If you grant our override request, we can bring you in nice and smooth.”

  “That won’t be necessary, docking control. I can bring my ship in myself.”

  “Understood,” said the controller, in a tone that said I don’t blame you. There was no way in hell that Isaac would let a pirate-controlled station take over his ship remotely. The Medea’s jump drives were already halfway charged, ready to flee at the first sign of trouble. With the way the situation looked, he might just have to use it.

  The sound of soft footsteps behind him made him look over his shoulder. Reva leaned on the back of his chair, peering out the window with a frown.

  “Starship?” she asked.

  “Yes,” said Isaac. “Bad. Very bad. Here, sit down.”

  He motioned to his brother’s chair beside him, and she eased herself into it. Her skin glowed dark in the dim red light, her tattoos nearly black. Less than an hour had passed since their departure from Shiloh, but she’d taken her new clothes off the instant she was on board. Isaac’s eyes began to wander, but he quickly averted his gaze.

  She’ll have to stay with the ship, he thought to himself. There was no telling what the pirates would do if they found her.

  The floor shuddered a little as the nav-computer spun the ship in preparation for final approach. The torque was weaker than the artificial gravity, but not so much that it was safe to be standing. Reva gripped the armrests of her chair as if to keep from falling out.

  “Don’t worry. Just a couple more maneuvers, and then we’ll be good to go.”

  She took a deep breath and steeled herself, staring straight ahead. Isaac reached out and put a hand on her tattooed arm. She flinched a little at his touch, but didn’t shrug him off.

  It took about ten minutes for the Medea to finish maneuvers. When the dull groan of metal on metal sounded through the hull, Reva visibly relaxed. The ship shuddered a little as the docking clamps connected, then went still. Isaac stood up.

  “I’ll be back in less than an hour,” he said, locking the cockpit controls. “You’ll be fine while I’m gone, right?”

  Reva gave him a puzzled look, obviously not comprehending. He left her and went into the cabin for a quick bathroom break. When he came out, he found her fumbling with the maroon dress, trying to put it on.

  “No,” said Isaac, taking it from her. “You stay here, understand? You stay.”

  “Why?” she asked, giving him a puzzled look.

  “Because bad men—very bad men. You stay here. I come again soon. Understand?”

&nbs
p; Her face was still a picture of confusion, but she nodded. “I stay.”

  “Right.”

  He fastened the top clasp on his jumpsuit and strapped on his wrist console. Before heading to the airlock, he glanced back at her. Her nakedness made her look tremendously vulnerable, especially with her obvious confusion at being left behind. His cheeks reddened a little, but he turned quickly and walked out.

  Stay focused, he told himself, taking a deep breath as he palmed the airlock door open. You’re here to bargain for safe passage—not only for yourself, but for Reva, too.

  Something told him that would be easier said than done.

  * * * * *

  The station itself was tiny, barely large enough for a population of one hundred. From the stench of stale body odor and the dozens of people loitering on the other side of the airlock, it was clear that the pirates had put the place well over capacity. They watched Isaac warily as he palmed the airlock shut and checked his wrist console to make sure that it was securely locked. One of them cracked a joke under his breath, and the others laughed in a way that set him even more on edge.

  He did his best to ignore them as he walked out of the terminal into the main hallway that circled the small settlement. According to his wrist console, the station master’s quarters were on the top level, near the command center and local port authority. The controller had told him that was where he could find the pirate captain, a man by the name of Aslan. Isaac didn’t know what to expect, but he tried to act confident as the eyes of the pirates followed him all the way to the elevator.

  He rode it up three stories and stepped out onto a level that was almost completely abandoned. To his left, half a dozen controllers with headsets sat in front of massive sensor displays, but most of the seats were empty. Garbage littered the hallway: torn up papers, frayed wires and broken datachips from looted electronics, and bits of rotting food. There were also some large white shards with specks of blood across them. Isaac realized with a start that those were bones from animal-grown meat. All of it combined to produce a foul-smelling odor that filled the air. Isaac pinched his nose in disgust and went on.