Stars of Charon (Legacy of the Thar'esh Book 1)

by Sam Coulson

  We stepped into the light of the distant yellow setting sun.

  “No I don’t,” Ju-lin retorted. “Why do they paint all of the buildings like that? Everything to the east is that wretched burnt orange, those six are blue, then a straight block of green. It’s wretched.”

  “I said keep down the damned sass,” Loid said between clenched teeth. “People know me here.”

  As if to punctuate his remark, a Celestrial stopped at the edge of the landing pad and raised his hand “Eti’katc’kahn!”

  Even though I had seen pictures of the Celestrial and heard stories and descriptions for the last several weeks, I was still startled by their appearance. People said they were hairless, but I suppose I didn’t fully understand that wasn’t limited to their head. They had no eyebrows or eyelashes. Their noses were narrow, and their faces were much more angular than any other human I’d seen. The smoothness of his skin made it look as if his head was plastic. His sunken cheeks and pronounced chin, and short forehead accentuated his large and colorful eyes. As I looked, his eyes drew me in, they were unlike any I had ever seen, blue with streaks of gold. He was clothed to the neck in tight-fitting layers, giving an appearance of modesty and functionality.

  “Jan, Eti’katc’Kahn,” he said again.

  “Jan te’, Kit’po!” Loid raised his left hand in reply and quickly turned back to us. “I told you, the Celestrials are orderly. They paint every building on the world to color code what the building is for. This district is devoted to industrial fabrication, so every building is yellow.”

  “You can’ be ser-”

  Loid flashed Ju-lin a sharp look before turning back to the Celestrial.

  As I watched Loid speak with the Celestrial I was unsettled, though for some time, I couldn’t figure out why until I realized that neither Loid nor the Celestrial were moving their hands, and facial expressions were minimal. Apparently the Celestrial were not an emotive people. I was glad I wouldn’t have to learn to speak their language on my own. The Earthborn speak as much with their hands and faces as they do with their voices, it had made Common easier for me to learn.

  After a few minutes Loid once again held up his hand and said a parting phrase.

  The Celestrial returned the gesture and turned back on his way.

  “Good, that’s settled,” Loid gestured us in. “Kit over there is going to fix up the damage to the Tons and clean her up while we’re out. We should be able to find some rooms to stay the night.”

  “So we’re not staying on the ship?” the idea of sleeping in an alien hotel clearly made Ju-lin uneasy.

  “The Celestrial only live in their ships when they are in flight. If you are on land, they sleep on land. And if they do it, we do it while we are here.”

  “Great,” Ju-lin muttered.

  “See, that was a little less sass!” Loid smiled. “Progress. That’s good. Run on back into the ship and get anything you will need, and Eli, stow that Draugari blade back in the ship. I won’t question your right to own it or carry it, but the Celestrials may.”

  Three minutes later we were back on the flight pad. Loid and Ju-lin had packs slung over their shoulders, I was empty handed. Without the knife in my belt, I felt exposed and uneasy. I wondered if that was my own instincts, or Lor’ten’s.

  “Alright, first things first, it’s getting late and the market will be shutting down soon. We need to track down the Noonan trader before they close up shop,” Loid nodded. “One more thing, walk single file. Ju-lin in the middle. No, no it’s not a sexism thing. It’s an efficiency thing. To the Celestrial, streets are for travel, not idle conversation. Most walking paths are designed for walking single file.”

  “And why am I in the middle?” Ju-lin asked. “Afraid someone is going to snatch me?”

  “Good lord no,” Loid answered. “I’d pity whoever abducts you! No, the locals walk in order of station. I’m the captain, you’re the pilot, so you go second, and Eli is, well, Eli. So he goes third.”

  Being referred to as the pilot was more than enough to satisfy Ju-lin, she followed behind Loid happily. I began to feel offended, but then I realized that I really couldn’t argue, I wasn’t sure what I was either.

  “Watch the first step,” Loid noted as we stepped out onto the walking path, I didn’t understand why until I got to the edge and saw that the walkway was already moving at a steady pace. In the interest of efficiency, the Celestrials had created moving sidewalks throughout the city to speed pedestrians on their way. It made sense, and probably helped reduce the public’s need to take their own hover to get across town.

  As we delved into the city, I found that, though busy, it wasn’t at all bustling. During the day, the Downs always had a sense of urgency and energy. People were walking down the streets, but they were also standing, talking, telling stories, and moving about. But here on Shindar II, the streets were quiet and orderly. It reminded me of walking down the streets of the Downs that night with Marin to go meet with Lee. It felt like an eternity ago, had that only been a few days?

  “Jan, Eti’katc’Kahn,” a Celestrial woman greeted Loid as we quickly passed.

  “Jan’te, Ten’ant,” Loid responded without slowing.

  “What is all this etch as catch—whatever?” Ju-lin muttered quietly.

  “I told you, they know me here,” Loid replied under his breath.

  “That’s Loid in Celestrialese?” Ju-lin replied.

  “No, and they don’t call it Celestrialese,” Loid quickened his pace.

  Ju-lin turned and flashed me a questioning look.

  I shrugged back.

  I found that as we turned down the various walking paths through the city, I became more and more disoriented. The uniform burn-orange buildings in the district made everything look the same. Though Loid seemed to know where he was going, I couldn’t be certain that he wasn’t taking us in circles. Eventually, we turned another corner and saw what I was certain was the market Alonso had directed us to.

  The rest of the buildings we had seen were more or less square, with sharp utilitarian angles and sloping roofs. Some had landing pads for shipping and unloading goods and large steam exhaust ports, but all of them had the look of buildings designed to suit the specific purpose. When looking at them, I could imagine that the exterior walls were built to conform to the interior form of whatever factor of processing equipment was within. Whereas humans tend to build one size fits all buildings, and then adapt their uses to fit within the building, the Celestrials built the building around their purpose.

  The Grand Market, however, had a much different aesthetic. The first thing that I noticed was that there were no walls, it was a large open-aired area covered by a sweeping sculpted roof that reminded me of rolling hills. As I swept my eyes across the scene I couldn’t find any supports holding the roof up, I figured it must be some sort of hover technology.

  We stepped off of the moving sidewalk and paused. The stalls below were buzzing with activity as traders and vendors moved from stall to stall. Though most of the faces I saw were Celestrial, smooth and hairless, there were a few rough-looking humanoids, some were short and squat with square shoulders, another had a thick V of slick and styled hair covering his brow and reaching down to the tip of his nose where it was tied into three braids that dangled around his chin. He definitely wasn’t Earthborn. Probably Lasterian or some mix of Lasterian. After the calm, orderly streets, the chaotic market seemed out of place.

  “For all things a place and a purpose,” Loid said.

  Roused from my thoughts, I glanced over to see that Ju-lin was also puzzling over the scene.

  “The Celestrials are organized,” he continued. “That doesn’t mean they are up-tight. You will find that streets are for travel, markets are for trading, and, later on, you will see that taverns are very much for drinking.”

  Loid rubbed his hands together happily in anticipation.

  “There have to be three hundred stalls down there,” Ju-lin said. “How are
we going to find whoever it is we’re looking for?”

  “Eti’katc’kahn?” The word came from a small, high voice behind us. I turned to see someone wearing a brown robe. I saw a flash of pale, white skin and red eyes under the hood. I recalled what Ju-lin had said about the Noonan, they were a humanoid race that had been discovered by the Collective nearly two hundred years earlier. Their homeworld orbited a dying brown-dwarf star, and they had evolved nearly completely underground.

  “I am Eti’katc’kahn,” Loid stepped toward the cloaked figure.

  “I hear you have some goods to sell? Yes?” The small voice said in Common with a thick, guttural accent.

  “Word travels fast apparently,” Ju-lin whispered.

  “It does when you want it to,” Loid quickly replied

  I remembered his conversation with the Celestrial Loid had spoken to at the landing pad.

  “I assume you have somewhere we can conduct our business quietly?” Loid asked as he gave a curt bow.

  “Yes, oh of course yes,” the hooded figure responded, nodding to us as it turned. “Your servants as well, come along. No need to linger.”

  “Servants?” Ju-lin seethed quietly as we fell in behind as Loid followed.

  “Actually, I told my friend back on the landing pad you two were my slaves, something got lost in the translation I suppose,” Loid answered.

  I couldn’t help but laugh, and was rewarded with Ju-lin’s elbow violently being thrust into my side.

  “We’re not going into the market,” I noticed. “Where is he taking us?”

  “She is taking us to the other market,” Loid answered.

  “Oh boy,” Ju-lin replied.

  “No, not quite like what you’re thinking, no shadowy back alleys. Crime is different here in the Empire. It’s just another kind of business, and like with all things, everything has its place. Now if you two will shut your damned traps and play your part, I have weapons to sell and information to barter for.”

  As we approached, Loid explained that the other market was an area that the locals referred to simply as the Hub; and he was right, it wasn’t dingy or seedy. If anything, it was more luxurious, designed to cater to a different type of client than the common market traders.

  The Hub was built beneath the Great Market, what it lacked in overall size it made up for in style. The grey ceiling support pillars were made of some kind of dark blue smooth stone or polished ceramic, the floor was a matte grey. The structure of the halls flowed with a natural direction, like a river or a forest path, and was full of small well-lit private alcoves and comfortable couches. Instead of booths, there were storefronts built into the wall. Some had windows with equipment on display, body armor, weapons, various computer components, though most of them had only small signs on the door written in a foreign language.

  As we followed our cloaked Noonan, I noticed that the Celestrials and other scattered aliens in the Hub were much less formal than those I had seen on the streets. I saw small groups speaking in corners. In front of one shop front, a wrinkled Celestrial and old grey-bearded human who looked like he could have been Earthborn were sitting taking turns puffing on some kind of curled pipe. The place had an air of uniform suspicion. Everyone’s eyes darted side to side warily. You knew you were watched, but few of the eyes seemed to be prying. This was a place where beings would let you go about your own business as long as you let them go about theirs.

  “I’m sure glad they didn’t make all of this yellow too,” Ju-lin said as she dropped back to walk with me.

  “Are there places like this back on the worlds in the Protectorate?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Ju-lin replied nodding to her left. “But they tend to be illegal, so not nearly as nice as this. That guy there is selling stims, out of a storefront. That’s crazy. Over there, those rifles in the back? Those are acidic micro-railguns, they shoot a few hundred tiny, and I mean tiny, half a millimeter long glass containers per second. Each one holds a tiny bit of acid. The containers burst on impact and the acid will eat right through any armor you have and then continue to chew right on through the skin.”

  “That sounds horrible,” I said, shuttering.

  “That sounds illegal,” Ju-lin retorted. “You’d have to go out beyond the Protectorate to somewhere like Smuggler’s Run to find something like that sold out in the open.”

  Our guide stopped in front of one of the windowless store fronts and gestured us inside.

  Loid bowed again to the Noonan before giving us a warning glance, and entering the store.

  Ju-lin, finally took a cue from Loid’s lead. She and I each took our bows in turn and followed him into the shop.

  The interior was in sharp contrast to the exterior. While the Hub had the smooth and elegant style that I was beginning to expect from the Celestrials, the interior of the shop was not. I would soon learn that if the Celestrials are the perfectionists of the universe, the Noonan are the improvisationalists. One of the wall panels had been pulled up from the floor and bent forward to act as a display table with all sorts of alien gadgets, the chairs were fashioned from buckets, and the desk in the center of the room looked like it was made from the hood of a land skiff.

  “Welcome, welcome, welcome,” a figure slightly taller than myself stood up behind the desk and gave three brief bows. Though I had read that the Noonan were albinos with very pale skin, white hair, and reddish eyes, I wasn’t ready for the truth of it. The figure in front of us had thin arms and legs with thin joints a square chin, sunken eyes, and thin golden hair. Beneath the loosely fitting robe and shadowed hood, I couldn’t spot any of the tell-tale signs that would indicate their gender. I glanced sidelong at Ju-lin, she met my questioning gaze with a brief shrug.

  “Please, please, please, sit down.” The Noonan waved us forward with skeletal fingers.

  The three of us returned hurried and inelegant bows, and then pulled up the closest available bucket-stools to sit opposite side of the desk.

  “They call you Eti’katc’kahn.” The Noonan nodded gravely. “The Skins do not lend their own language lightly. It’s quite an honor to hold.”

  “Some misunderstandings work out better than others,” Loid said sharply.

  “I would bet that’s an interesting story to hear, yes it is,” the Noonan responded.

  “There isn’t much to tell, and it’s far too late in the day, and far too early in the evening to tell them.”

  The Noonan gave a sharp bark-like sound that I assumed was a laugh.

  “The Skins say you keep your business almost as well as you keep your drink.” The Noonan pulled two cups from a desk drawer, filled them up with two glugs of a thick, almost syrupy black liquid.

  Loid took one of the glasses and held it up.

  “To profit, to prosperity, to happiness, to drink!” the Noonan clinked Loid’s glass and they both drank.

  I saw Loid wince as he took his drink as he choked it down, I could only imagine what was in it.

  “To profit,” Loid croaked out as he tried to clear his throat.

  The Noonan clicked its long fingernails against the desk. I couldn’t tell if it did so out of annoyance or approval.

  “I am Joof,” the Noonan said, taking Loid’s glass from him and nodding toward the hooded Noonan who had guided us from the market. “Tolo tells me that you have weapons to sell.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Loid answered, I was curious if he added the ‘ma’am’ for mine and Ju-lin’s benefit, but I was thankful for the clarification. “But I also look to buy, or hopefully, trade.”

  “Ah! A real deal, now that’s more fun,” Joof replied. “What is it I can interest you in? Cargo scanners? I have a boarding clamp modification system that is nearly silent, perfect for those times when you need discretion.”

  “Actually I’m looking for something a bit more particular, a messenger drone,” Loid answered.

  “New messenger drones?” Joof scoffed. “You should be looking upstairs in the market, we down here in
the Hub don’t trouble with such common trifles.”

  “I didn’t say I was looking for a new drone,” Loid answered. “I’m looking for a specific drone, one that was intercepted by some pirates, and one which you purchased sometime within the last week, and promptly resold.”

  “There it is,” Joof’s eyes twinkled. “Eti’katc’kahn, the Skins are right to say you are half mad. Though I would say more than half if you think that you can get me to give you information on my clients. That is, if I had seen or sold any messenger drones, and I honestly do not recall anything of the sort.”

  “I think you have,” Loid answered. “The man who sent me to you isn’t very well loved by the Celestrials. He wouldn’t go to them, he’d go to you.”

  “There are more outlanders on this world than just me,” the Noonan responded sharply. “He could have gone to Kraven the Olsterian, or perhaps the Earthborn fellow they call Titters, he’s a hacker who works out of the west end, I hear he dabbles in all sorts of work.”

  “Kraven moved to Nexus, and Titters was air-locked six months back because of some bad debt.”

  “Oh my, oh my,” Joof held up her hands, palm up. “See I don’t even know who you would go to. After all, you are Eti’katc’kahn, and I’m just poor Joof.”

  “Indeed,” Loid said icily. “So you no memory of the drone?”

  “No,” Joof responded. “Dearly no, Tolo, have you heard anything?”

  The younger Noonan standing in the corner made a low croaking sound.

  “Yes, see, I think you may have come to the wrong place Eti’katc’kahn,” Joof continued. “I’m sorry to disappoint. Now to the matter of the goods you have to sell, did I hear correctly that you have Draugari hardware? Unexploded and unharmed? That is a rare find indeed. Are they stable? Dare I ask how you came by such treasures?”