by J. K. Mabrey
Its lack of resources and strategic value is what prompted the Iriquios to give up on it as a colony and let it be governed by its own system. The representative of Zalif to the Galaxy was now a Pakal, Equard Daly, that adopted a laissez-faire position on galactic affairs and only ever traveled off system about twice a year. Once to Tarekun to take part in an annual festival of drunken parades and promiscuous celebrations surrounding a local deity that he didn't even believe in. The other time was to Cedona, the Galactic Capital, to ensure that the Galactic budget still included the provision from Iriquim, the Iriquios home world, that was required by Council law. All past colonies were entitled to a stipend from their founding system for a set number of years based on the colony's economy and time spent being ruled by the parent system. The Council didn’t want colonies to be left to rot just because the settling system gave up on them.
Zalif needed that stipend to survive and Equard had won election to rule Zalif by promising to ensure its continued influx into Zalif's economy. Iriquim had been pressing the Council for decades to allow it to stop funding the once-upon-a-time colony arguing that their economy at one point exceeded the threshold for self-reliance. Even if now it was below the established level, the mere fact that it at one point was above should have exempted Iriquim from its continued support. It was through shady accounting and a few bribes that Zalif was able to show officially their economy remained just below the threshold.
Since then they've suppressed their economy, preferring to receive the stipend from Iriquim instead of growing their own, albeit sparse, resources. The planet's infrastructure had slowly decayed in the recent years, the stipend mostly going to placate local crime-lords in an effort to keep the system stable. Most of the cities were dirty and dangerous. The rule of law was thrown away and replaced by the rule of force. Trouble seemed to find anyone new to the system. Very few people actually wanted to live on Zalif now, those that did wished they could leave. But most were stuck, unable to afford transport off the planet, and having nowhere to go even if they could.
The Rinada landed in a shipping port in Yehvan. Zavik followed Charra out of the cargo hold as Brax was descending from the laser turret. Charra pushed Brax out of the way and stormed into his room.
"Hey! What's your problem?" Brax asked to silence. The door closed shut behind Charra and a loud crash followed. "What got into him?"
"We lost two of the crates," Zavik said.
"Ut oh."
"Yeah."
Dani came in from the cockpit and hugged Zavik. “Are you ok?”
“I’m fine.”
She looked at his clothes and checked his arms for cuts. There was a bit of black soot on his right sleeve and some on his forehead, but otherwise, he was unharmed.
“You could have been killed,” she said.
He shrugged his shoulders and said, “I was clear by at least three feet. Not a problem.”
She just stared at him, refusing to let a smile shine through. She put her head on his chest. "What was the noise?"
"Zavik lost half the cargo," Brax said.
"How do you know it was my fault?"
"If it was Charra's fault, he'd be a lot more mad than this," Brax said.
Zavik nodded. "Fair enough."
Charra didn't take losing very well and was always hardest on himself when he made mistakes. He would force himself to workout twice as hard and twice as long after every failure. Zavik was sure it was some Rovun training ritual.
"He'll be in there for an hour getting over this," Brax said.
"What are we going to do?" Dani asked.
"About Charra?" Brax responded.
"No, about the shipment. We're supposed to deliver four crates of weapons to Rodderick. You're saying we only have two."
"Did you check them? They're the right package?" Brax asked.
"Yeah, I opened them," Zavik said. "About two dozen carbine blaster rifles."
"Maybe that'll be enough to satisfy Rodderick," Brax said, his arms held out as if he were pleading for a miracle. That’s what it’d take.
"Even if we'd have gotten the whole shipment it wouldn't be enough for Rodderick," Zavik said. "I should have never gotten involved with him."
"Zavik," Dani said as she drew herself close to him and put her arm around his waist, "it's not your fault that Telamere didn't work out. Their civil war cost a lot of people, and no one saw that coming."
"She's right," Brax said. "We don't blame you. If we did, we'd be gone, at least I would." He forced a grin.
"Thanks, I think," Zavik said.
"What I'm trying to say is we're a team, and a good team sticks together even through the bad. So this shipment won't settle our debt with Rodderick, it will bring it closer. Once that's done, we can stop doing crap missions for five percent commission and get back to some real jobs. Ones we actually want to do, and that pay well. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have disposable income.
"Haven’t we all,” Zavik said. “I just hope he’s reasonable.”
“Now that is doubtful,” Brax said.
Zavik went to the rear room on the starboard side of the Rinada. It was once his room alone. Now he shared it with Dani, and he was absolutely fine with that. It was a small rectangular room that would have been cramped with four people standing in it. A fold out bed was strapped to the wall. A chest height locker sat at the back of the room and a computer terminal sat opposite the bed near the door.
He pulled the bed down and laid back. The room was a mess. His clothes were thrown in a pile against the back wall. It reminded him that he was two weeks late in finishing a systems check on the engines. Why did he always procrastinate on his ship? It used to be his pride and joy, he loved tinkering with it and improving every aspect he could. Now, it was a chore, something to dread, and make excuses to get out of doing. What was it this time? Watching the dashball match? Getting drunk down at the nearest bar? He couldn’t remember. He didn’t want to. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Dani came in after what seemed to Zavik like only five minutes, but it was actually much longer.
“How are you?” she asked in her soft and calm voice. It was a tone he'd come to love over the years.
“I’m fine,” he replied a little harsher than he liked.
“Really? You don’t look fine.” She sat down next to him.
“I just wanted this to be the last time we had to work for Rodderick. I want to start doing things that matter again, not help crimelords make more profit by ripping off other crime-lords. I never got into this business to help people like that.”
“I know, Zavik. I also know that sometimes that’s what we have to do. It’s not the first time, we both know it probably won’t be the last time. Brax and Charra understand too. We all agreed to move to Telamere and to do that we needed funding from somewhere. Rodderick was there. We’d done missions for him before and he was always fair. If Telamere had worked out like we planned, we would be through dealing with him. It was a risk that we all accepted. You can’t regret that.”
“I know,” Zavik said. “I just want to make it right. They deserve better. You deserve better.”
“I do not,” she said with a hint of laughter behind it. “I love you, no matter what. We’ll get out of Rodderick’s shadow and be able to do the jobs we want soon enough. I know Brax wants to help a contact he has on a Chokmnd colony and Charra, well, I’m not sure what Charra wants to do, but he likes to fight.”
“Good thing he excels at that,” Zavik said, “and is on our side of the fights.”
Dani was silent for a moment. Finally, she asked, "Are we going to go back to targeting Red Moon's operations when Rodderick's paid off?"
"Yes," he said, "I want to make sure they're put out of business for good."
"But all recent reports are that the whole organization has dissolved into numerous factions throughout the Galaxy. It's nothing like it once was."
"It's still a dangerous organization,” he said, “a
nd the Council has almost forgotten what they did. To them, the enemy was Varin all along, and they think he's gone, so there's no need to pursue Red Moon to its extinction."
"Zavik," she said resting an arm on his shoulder, "Varin is gone. The Council is right to think of him as the enemy, but that threat has passed."
"I know," he said trying to force himself to believe it. "I just want his network to be destroyed. Every remnant of him gone. Are you ok with that?"
"Yes," she said, "and I think Brax is fine with going after Red Moon, to a point. We have to eat, you know. I think Charra is ok for now, but I'm not sure how long he'll go along with us before he gets other ideas. Hunting Red Moon remnants doesn't pay as good as it used to."
"That's the truth," he said. "The Blue Blazes used to pay a grand just for the location of a Red Moon base. Now, they're likely to just give you a drum of fuel, not even enough to cover the trip, for an entire tactical readout of a base. They just aren't as threatening to the other syndicates without Varin."
"No, they're not," she said, "and the longer he's gone, the more worthless the organization will be to everyone, including us."
"I think that would be the best thing for the Galaxy," Zavik said. He took her hand and squeezed it tight.
"Then what will we do?" she asked. "We need a purpose, Zavik. You used to give us one before Red Moon took away your focus. I don't want to chase a ghost forever."
"I know," he said. "I'll make you a deal. After we pay off Rodderick, we'll take a job that has nothing to do with Red Moon. It doesn't even have to be in the Outer Spiral. You think they’ll like that?"
"I know I will. I can’t wait to get out of this sector of the Galaxy for a bit. It’s very…depressing.”
The intercom in the room chimed on and Brax said, "Rodderick's agreed to meet us. When should I tell him we'll meet?"
Dani said. “Are you ready to go now?”
“Hmm…do we have to go now, or do we have a few minutes?” he asked, pulling her close. He kissed her neck and she giggled.
She let out a low moan and then pushed him back. “No, I’m afraid we don’t. He’s expecting us, and with not all good news we don’t want to keep him waiting.”
Always the reasonable one, he thought.
"Uh, hello?" Brax said quietly into the speaker.
“Ok, fine,” he said, “but, I’m gonna want a rain check.”
She bent down and kissed him passionately. “Deal.”
Chapter 2
They agreed to meet Rodderick at a local bar in Yehvan. It was a filthy place Rodderick owned. Zavik had frequented the bar in the past but had a pit in his stomach at the thought of going back.
They sat in a booth in the corner of the round building. It was mid-day but the place was still packed. Two Chokmnd at the booth next to them were arguing and alternating shots of something strong. A pungent smell of alcohol and decay bellowed from their table. Dani looked like she might puke, and he felt the same way. Charra got a whiff and seriously considered ordering one before they all, including Brax, vehemently refused to allow it. A Bacarian, two Savins, an Iriquios, and three Targuns sat at the bar. They were all fixated on the screens littering the overhead of the bar. A dashball match was on and from the looks of the score, it was a tight match and near the end. Other patrons filled a few of the remaining tables, but nothing out of place caught his eye. Besides the hideous stench coming from the nearby drinking contest, a slightly burned oil smell from the fryer had lingered so long it was ingrained in their seats. At first, it was pleasing, but it quickly turned his stomach sour and any thought of ordering something to eat vanished.
"I'll get a round from the bar," Brax said as he moved out of the booth. "Anyone want some food?"
"No," Zavik said quickly. The others concurred, probably having the same sensation from the smell.
"Just the usual, then?"
"Sure," they all said, although Charra's was a disgruntled addition. The usual for Zavik was a Farlinese sour, Dani got a yemi and gond, the closest thing to a gin and tonic you could get off Earth, and Charra was fond of straight Rovun whiskey. Brax would get a chokern, Zavik thought, a nasty drink that only Chokmnd, and a select few Savins, thought tasted good.
"How long's he going to keep us waiting?" Charra asked.
"We've only been here for a minute," Dani said.
Zavik checked his watch that was reset to Zalif time and said, "True, but he's usually right on time, and now it's four minutes past."
Brax returned with four drinks. Zavik took his immediately and filled his nose with its aroma. It was so much better than letting the stink of the place continue to bombard him. He took a long sip, letting the cooled liquid dance on his tongue for a moment before it slid into his stomach. A slight burning sensation lingered in his mouth, but he didn't mind. In fact, he liked it. He took another quick sip, relishing the feeling.
Suddenly the crowd quieted as a Savin entered the bar. It was Rodderick and he was accompanied by three other Savins. Savins were an eligible Council race with far-reaching influence throughout the Galaxy. Rodderick was tall, as most Savins were, standing well over six feet. His long, gray toned face was hard and unflinching. A wide nose stretched across half his face. He stepped in giving a curious glance around his establishment before fixating his narrow and sharp eyes on Zavik.
Rodderick snapped his fingers on his right hand in the air and the Savin to his right hurried over to the table. He dragged a chair and set it up at the edge of the table. Rodderick followed and sat down gracefully.
"Rodderick, we-"
"Did I speak to you, boy," Rodderick interrupted, his voice cutting through the air in a thick swath that caught the attention of nearby patrons who were just beginning to return to their drinks.
"Uh, no," he said. A feeling of warmth crept up his face.
"Then I do not wish for you to speak to me."
Zavik's eyes dropped from Rodderick to the table, and then to his half empty glass. He felt like a scolded dog that had just tried to impress its master by doing a trick deemed not worthy. His hand moved for the drink but he held it back.
Rodderick began to laugh. "I'm just playing with you, Zavik," he said, his voice returning to a tolerable tone. "Oh, you should have seen your face. You liked that one, didn't you, Brax?"
"Oh, yes, very good one," Brax said.
Charra growled just low enough that Rodderick didn't hear over his own continued laughter. Zavik looked at Dani and gave an ever-so-slight eye roll her direction. That was Rodderick, though. He was a terrifying individual, capable of committing almost any crime in broad daylight on Zalif and getting away with it. Zavik recalled a story he heard about a worker who stole a shipping crate of Promezian weed from Rodderick's compound. He had him dragged through town on the back of a hover bike while the rest of his men threw rocks and trash. Eventually, with the man beaten and bruised, he executed him in the middle of the town, in front of over a hundred witnesses. The worker's family protested and contacted the authorities on Zalif, but an investigation turned up no eye witnesses and the case was eventually dropped due to lack of evidence.
That was the kind of power Rodderick was used to. Yet, if you were on his side, he was more than happy to help. He was charming, and personable, and willing to do things for you that no one else would. He could make you feel special, like you could conquer anything with his help. Help that would indebt you to him for much longer than you could imagine. He would suck you in and then suck the life right out of you. Zavik ran a couple of jobs for him after the Red Moon rebellion and was familiar with his work. When he needed a loan to move out to Telamere, Rodderick was the only option. He's regretted that choice almost every day since.
"So, you have my weapons?" Rodderick asked.
"We do," Zavik said with a slight hesitation.
"But...?"
"But two of the crates were destroyed."
"Destroyed? How?" he asked and a slight scowl formed on his face.
"A
Bacarian on the cargo ship detonated a grenade," Zavik said. "Almost killed me."
"That would've been too bad," he said. Zavik didn't think he meant it at all. "Well, at least you're safe. That's what's important. But you only have half of my goods?"
"Yes," Zavik said.
"I'm afraid that still leaves us a little short of full compensation."
"I know," Zavik said, "but it's not our fault."
"It never is your fault, is it?" he asked, a feigned smile stretching as wide as his nose.
"What does that mean?" Zavik asked.
"I gave you ten thousand credits and they were squandered in three months. But that wasn't your fault either, was it?"
"There was a civil war," Zavik said, his voice rising to a level he was uncomfortable with while speaking to Rodderick.
"Of course," Rodderick said. "As I said, it's never your fault."
"Hey, we couldn't plan for that," Brax said.
Rodderick's head jerked to the other side of the table. "If your intelligence was better, and you had done a little bit more reconnaissance before jotting off, you would have seen the writing on the wall. But, again, that's not your fault. And instead of purchasing a lightdrive to open up more jobs, you lost it all pursuing grander visions. Am I right?"
"Our move to Telamere was going to finance a lightdrive for the Rinada," Zavik said.
"That didn't work out," Rodderick said.
"Obviously," Zavik added. He was getting frustrated at the interrogation.
"But there was more," Rodderick said. "You wanted to set up operations on Telamere for other, personal reasons, didn't you?"
"You seem to already know enough about that," Zavik said.
"I do, because my intelligence is thorough. Look, if you want to settle a personal vendetta against a dying organization like Red Moon, that's fine with me. I only care when it interferes with my profits, which until this loan, it had not. My advice would be to forget about Red Moon's remnants, all of you," he said looking at Charra and Brax. "Going after them is only going to get you killed, and it won't do any good for the Galaxy.” He waived his hand in the air. “If that was your thinking. Their leader is gone, and you've seen how fractured they've become without his vision and guidance."