by Guerin Zand
I spent the appropriate amount of time after the deed cuddling and apologizing some more. When I believed I’d met the basic obligatory post-coital ritual requirements, I got up and headed to the shower. I’d obviously missed something. Prima joined me, making it clear, even to an idiot such as myself, that I hadn’t quite done enough yet. I pretty much lost all sense of time, but from what I could gather later, it was at least three hours before I was allowed to leave Prima’s room. I had a lot of things to do, and now I was falling behind the schedule I had set for myself. I was also really hungry.
I made my way to the galley. I figured I’d make myself a quick sandwich to hold me over until dinner time. I know in the movies the woman usually makes the man a sandwich after abusing him like Prima had just done, but this was real life, and I was on my own. Scirla and my two daughters were in the galley when I arrived. They were nibbling on some of the food they were preparing for dinner, and talking about God knows what. They all of a sudden stopped talking as I entered the room. I ignored them as I stuck my head in the fridge to grab a few things for my sandwich.
Maria looked over at me with a sick little smile and asked, “You alright, Dad?”
“I’m fine. Just a little hungry. What’s for dinner?”
Gamma smiled, “Scirla is making that Taesrin stew you like.”
“That sounds good.” I started to slap together my snack. “How long until dinner?”
“About three hours,” Scirla replied. “I was thinking after dinner you might come to my room and we can finish that little talk we were having. I could also use some help with my math studies. I’ve fallen a bit behind in my lessons while we were away.” Scirla had a funny little grin on her face as did both of my daughters.
“I was going to get the ladies squared away after dinner, before we leave for Trinix tomorrow morning. I just wanted to make sure they kept up the work on the new ship and—”
“Gamma and I can take care of that for you, Dad. I’m sure Scirla needs your help more than they do.” Maria seemed to be enjoying herself. Actually, all three of them seemed to be quite happy about something. I took a bite of my sandwich and simply shrugged my shoulders to indicate my compliance with their wishes. Oh well, a spaceman’s job is never done.
Chapter 5
Trixy
We took off the next morning for Trinix to meet up with Froshjen. The fembots would continue to supervise the construction of the new starship while we were away. The manufacturing facilities on Hell were as good as what one would find on a Bree station in terms of technology, but it couldn’t match the capacity. For example, the facilities weren’t big enough to manufacture a cruiser like the Ryvius, but a ship half that size, like the new lightning class design, wasn’t an issue. Still, production was limited to one lightning class ship at a time. With the current situation that was unfolding due to my daughter’s rash actions, I had a feeling we were going to need a lot more ships and the crews to man them. That was going to be a problem.
Anyways, when we arrived on Trinix, I found my way down to a little dive bar in the seedier section of the port city, Anthera. Like most large cities, Anthera had its own dirty little secrets and an area reserved to hide them away from most tourists. Now, violent crime was a rare occurrence on Trinix, but with recent events, I decided I’d feel better if I brought my 45, so I did. Most of the crime one would find in these parts of town were con jobs and various schemes to hack into one’s credit accounts. They’d take a little dip without the victim recognizing what happened until it was too late. They could spot a greenhorn miles away. If you were dumb enough to enter one of the establishments in the area, such as a pleasure den or gambling parlor, you were easy prey. Even at these little shithole drinking spots you had to be careful. Never let any of them scan your credit ID for payment. That was like going to a spot similar to this on Earth, back in the day, and just opening your wallet to them, and trusting them to take the correct amount out. Instead, you needed to scan their credit ID and push the payment to them. The smell of these places was, well, out of this world, and not in a good way. I don’t know why Froshjen had chosen to meet in this area of town.
I found where Froshjen said we should meet. There was a simple wood sign out front that said, “Margret’s”. I entered the bar/grill and found what I expected. No one but me and a funny looking woman behind the bar. She looked maybe in her early 30’s, a short little thing, maybe five foot tall at the most, and quite human. There was something about her that I just couldn’t figure out. She was fairly attractive and had a nice figure from what I could see. It was, I don’t know. She looked like a cross between Mary Ann from Gilligan's Island and Cyndi Lauper, if such a thing were actually possible. She was wearing a wife beater t-shirt underneath a farmer Brown’s denim coverall. I guess her natural hair color was brunette, if you could trust the roots, which then changed with the length of her hair into a neon sort of rainbow. She had it done up in straight short pigtails. But none of that was really bothering me. It was her eyes that were making me want to just run right back to the Ryvius. This was definitely turning into a “Danger Will Robinson” type of situation and I was not at all comfortable.
“Can I help you?”
I figured, why not. Sure, the DWR warning was flashing brightly in my mind, but it’s not like that ever stopped me before. I approached the bar and hopped up on a stool. “Do you have Earth whiskey? Preferably American bourbon?”
“Is a leprechaun’s piss green?” The bartender inquired.
Have I ever mentioned how much I hate trivia bars? “Can’t say that I’d know. Is it something you’re an expert on?”
“Listen, fancy boy. You don’t come into my place of business, in your fancy clothes, speaking your fancy words, and think you can insult me. That big gun of yours ain’t going to help you in here.”
Fancy boy? Me? I was wearing a ratty old Grateful Dead t-shirt, my cargo shorts, sandals, and one of my more casual bathrobes. I could see her eyeing the 45 and said, “So, you like my big gun?”
“I’ve seen bigger.” She scowled as she poured me a drink from a rather dirty bottle into an even dirtier glass.
I reached for my drink. “I bet you have.” I slammed down the drink before I had time to think about what I was about to do. I shouldn’t have, but it was all part of the dance. “Fuck me, woman. What the hell was that? Is that the leprechaun piss you were talking about?”
“Listen space boy, the complaint department is on the other side of that door, if you get my meaning. Now let me scan your credit ID so you can pay for that drink.”
“Nice try, Tinkerbell, but let me scan your’s and I’ll take care of the payment.” She sighed when she realized I wasn’t that stupid. She raised her forearm to mine for me to make the transaction. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind reaching down below and getting me a bottle of the real stuff, I’d like an actual drink.”
“The good stuff costs extra, dickweed.” The mouth on that girl. She sort of reminded me of my mother and I was getting a little weepy eyed.
“Whatever, darling. Just grab me a bottle, and while you’re at it, why don’t you look around and see if you can find me a couple of clean glasses. I’m expecting company.”
“Clean glasses will cost extra as well, asswipe.”
“Are you flirting with me, Margret?” I batted my eyes approvingly. I’m not sure what was in that first drink, but I’m pretty sure it had disabled my DWR defense.
“In your dreams, jerk slime.” Ok, jerk slime was a new one, so I was going to give her points for originality. “And my name is Trixy.”
“But the sign says ‘Margret’s’, not ‘Trixy’s’. I thought you said this was your place?” I paid her for the bottle and glasses and then poured myself a drink. Funny how she just happened to have a bottle of Pappy’s available for the right price.
“My given name is Margret Dale, but everyone knows me as Trixy.”
“Well then, Trixy it is.” I slammed down my whiskey and poured
another.
“So, you think we're on a first name basis now because we’re both human or something?”
“You’re human? Really? I know most of the humans who’ve made it out this far, and I don’t know you.”
“Fuck me! You’re that dickhead Guerin Zand, aren't you? The one that Froshjen is supposed to meet here.”
“Well, yes I am. I mean, why else would anyone come to this shithole. It’s obvious from the crowd you’re not exactly known for your hospitality or friendly service.”
“That’s it, nutsack. I don’t care if you are Froshjen’s friend. You say one more disparaging word about me, or my establishment, and I’ll come over this bar, rip your tiny little jewels clean off your body, and stuff them down your throat. And that’s just for starters.”
“Don’t hold back on my account. I will warn you though, I do have some experience with that sort of foreplay.”
The first sign I had that she was seriously perturbed was the empty glass smashing against the side of my head. I hoped she didn’t think I was going to pay for that. I instinctively grabbed my full glass and emptied it of its contents. A full glass of whiskey is a terrible thing to waste, and trust an old veteran like me, the first thing a pissed off woman usually went for was your alcohol.
My lightning fast reflexes surprised her, but it didn’t dissuade her. Next thing I saw was Tinkerbell doing some Nadia Comaneci double back gainer something or other over the bar and she ended up behind me. Still holding my glass in one hand, I swiveled around, grabbing the bottle of whiskey in my free hand. I raised my right leg and stopped the onrushing banshee.
“If you make me spill my whiskey, I’m going to demand a refund, sweet cheeks.” I grinned at her as I poured another glass and slammed it down.
Before she could react, I kicked her back and she went flying into a rather flimsy table and set of chairs. As to be expected in any good bar fight, some basic damage was done. I swiveled around on the stool once more, placing the bottle and glass safely back on the bar, and stood up as I came around to face her again. I know you’re all going to think I’m a real dirtbag for saying this, but a society where a man was allowed to give a woman a good trouncing when she needed it, as Trixy apparently needed it, made me feel a bit liberated. I wasn’t going to really hurt her. No. I was just going to give her a lesson in manners, a lesson in proper customer service. I had a lot of pent-up frustration from what I’d been through those last few months, and unfortunately, Trixy was about to take the brunt of it for all womankind.
But Trixy wasn’t going down without a fight. As she lifted herself from the ground she grabbed one of the now orphaned chair legs and charged. As she raised her cudgel over her head, and I contemplated in which direction to toss her next, a hand came from behind her and stopped her downswing.
“Trixy! What’s going on here?” Froshjen had entered the bar at some point during the festivities and I hadn’t even noticed. I guess I was having too much fun.
“Let me go, Fro. Just give me a minute to finish with this asswipe and then I’ll get you a drink.”
Froshjen smiled. “So, I see the two of you have already met.”
I smiled at my old friend. “Yea, we were just getting to know each other and doing a little flirting while I waited on you. It’s nice of you to finally make it.”
“I got detained for a bit, some other business.”
“Not a problem. Trixy’s been taking really good care of me.”
“And I’m not done, shitbird.” Trixy squirmed as Froshjen took a firmer grasp around her waist and lifted her up off the ground.
Trixy continued to scream and squirm like a little schoolgirl in Froshjen’s grip, he lowered her down and sat her in a chair. “Now, calm down, Trixy. I’m sure Guerin was only joking around.”
I smiled back towards the two of them. “Yea, I was just joshing with her. How was I to know she was a total psycho-bitch whack-job.
“That’s it! I’m going to put my boot so far up this little momma’s boy’s ass he’ll be tasting leather.” I’m pretty sure she was being serious at this point.
“Both of you, knock it off.” Froshjen gave us both a stern fatherly type look. “Trixy, if you want his help, you’re going to have to be a little nicer.”
I started laughing. “Are you serious, Fro? That’s why you had me meet you in this dump?”
Somehow Trixy had gotten one of her shitkickers loose and with a rather sudden gesture kicked the little projectile off and towards my head. I ducked and it went crashing into the shelves behind the bar, taking out several bottles and making a bit of a mess. Luckily, it wasn’t the good stuff.
Meanwhile, I stood there bleeding from the rather large cut in the side of my head compliments of Ms. Trixy and a once sort of clean whiskey glass. I think there was just enough whiskey left in the bottom of the glass to sanitize the wound, which was a good thing. I started to look around for something to clean my wound and stop the bleeding, but the only thing I could see was that dirty old rag she’d been using to wipe down the bar when I walked in. I sure wasn’t going to use that since there was no telling where that thing had been. I tossed a little Pappy’s on the cuff of my robe and used that to clean up the wound. I then took the belt from my robe and wrapped it a few times around my head, Mr. Miyagi style, pulling it tight and tying a knot in it at the back of my head to stop the bleeding. In a real-life barfight, breaking a glass upside some idiot’s head does some serious damage. Once again, after meeting a strange woman on an alien planet, I was going to need to spend some time in the med center. I couldn’t be sure, but I was starting to see a pattern forming in my relationships with women.
Froshjen seemed to have gotten the little psycho-bitch to calm down a bit. She was sitting in the same chair, but he no longer needed to restrain her. I’m sure that was temporary. “If you two are quite finished, perhaps we could get to the business at hand?”
“Whatever it is you brought me here for, Fro, you can count me out. I don’t want anything to do with this crazy bitch.” Trixy attempted to get up to assault me again, but Froshjen put his hand on her shoulder and forced her back down into her seat. “Nothing personal, darling. You’re just not my type.”
“You have no idea how happy that makes me.” That was the hell-beasts attempt at a witty response. “I’m out too, Fro. I don’t want anything to do with this asshole.”
“Why don’t both of you just settle down and try to play nice for a minute. Just hear me out.” Trixy rolled her eyes and I shook my head. What the fuck? I pulled out a chair from the table where they were both sitting. I placed it far out of reach of the flying ninja before taking a seat. “Good. Now, Guerin. You wanted information on the human Trogan agents, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, Trixy here escaped from the Trogans almost two centuries ago. In fact, it was one of your raids into Trogan space with the Vengeance that actually rescued her.”
“She sure knows how to say thank you, doesn’t she?”
“Fuck you, asshole. It’s not like you did me any big favor. You just dumped us all on Trinix without so much as a pot to piss in.”
“Your welcome.” I smiled back at the demented little pixie.
“Enough you two.” Froshjen just shook his head and continued. “The point is, Guerin, she knows where the Trogans are holding their human captives.”
“Hold on a second, Fro. What are you talking about? What human captives? How did the Trogans get past the quarantine to capture humans?”
“Well, they didn’t, but a lot of other races have been visiting Earth for centuries and abducting humans on occasion. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories.” I nodded for him to continue. “Actually, Trixy was taken from, what was called at the time, the Montana territory in the United States.”
“Seriously, she’s that old?”
“Watch it, buddy!”
“Sorry, granny.” I just couldn’t help myself.
“Yes, she’s that old. You know t
hat the Trogans, as well as many of the worlds out here, have advanced medical technology that can extend human life beyond what is even still possible on Earth. Maybe not as advanced as the Collective, but effective none the less.”
“Whatever. I guess that explains Grandma Moses here, but how did the Trogans get hold of these others?”
“Heesa was well aware of the plans for Earth long before the Collective approached you. He decided to buy these human abductees, paying a rather high price by normal slave standards, from the other races who had ventured to Earth. He knew he’d need human agents for his plans in the future.”
“Alright, but there can only be a few hundred, right?”
“Wrong again, dickbreath. Are you seriously that stupid?” I get that question a lot so I simply replied with a shrug of my shoulders. It was one of the few well-kept secrets in the universe just how stupid I actually was, and I liked it like that. I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell her the truth.
Trixy rolled her eyes and said, “Let me break it down so an idiot child can follow along. Boy meets girl, girl meets boy, babies happen. People live longer lives so people have more babies. Slaves breed more slaves. Occasionally they bring in new stock, and, well, give it three or four hundred years and you have a sizeable colony of human subjects.”
“How sizeable?” I asked.
“I don’t know exactly, but somewhere around twenty or thirty thousand I guess.”
“Well, that’s just great.” I threw up my hands in exasperation. “Why are you just now telling me about this, Fro? It would have been nice to know when we first met.”