by J. K. Mabrey
"That's not what it was about," Zavik said.
"Oh, please. I know about Red Moon's base on Telamere, everyone does. You can't still be holding a grudge from their little rebellion. You have to let those things go, my boy. I'm sure it wasn't personal, just business."
"No, trust me, it was personal," Zavik said.
He pointed a sharp finger at Zavik. "See, still letting anger guide you." He looked at Brax and Charra again and said, "You should be careful. A leader like that can get you killed. One who's not thinking clearly, and following a blind rage."
"We'll take our chances," Charra said.
"Suit yourselves," Rodderick said. "Like I said, I don't care what you focus your private time on, as long as my profits are not hurt, which leaves us with our current situation."
"What's that?" Zavik asked.
"You owe me two crates of weapons and another job. Until that is complete, your ship will remain tagged by me, and I will actively monitor your movements. No more bombing Red Moon outposts or tapping into their interstellar networks. Unless you can do that from here."
"That's ridiculous! We did your job. Feels like we've done hundreds of them. We've paid our debt."
"Your debt would have been fully covered by four crates of weapons, not two," he said. "If you'd prefer to be out of debt immediately, I could just take your ship."
"Not on your life," Zavik said, his hand clenching the half empty glass so tight he thought it might shatter into a dozen pieces.
"I don't think you're in a position to threaten anyone, Zavik. I like you, you're a good smuggler, and you've done some good jobs for me, but don't make the mistake of thinking that gives you any leeway. I don't operate like that. I collect my debts, in full. Do you all understand?"
"Yes, Rodderick," Zavik said.
He stood up from the table and adjusted his shirt. "Good. Now just relax, have some drinks on the house. I'll call when I need you. One more thing, don't try and leave Zalif without my approval, or I will track you down and take your ship, over your dead body. Over all of your dead bodies."
Zavik stared at him as he left the bar. He sat quietly for a moment, his beet-red face returning to a softer shade of pink. He finished his glass and slammed it down on the table.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"For what?" Brax asked. "That he's an ass?"
"Want me to rip his arms off?" Charra asked, a noticeable snarl on his grizzly face.
Zavik squinted and said, "No, but thanks, Charra. And let's keep that kind of talk a little quieter."
"Oh, right," he said lowering his head and looking around the whole bar.
"So we just wait on this planet for him to give us a final job?" Brax asked. "He's never been that strict about how we pay him back."
"He's not afraid we're going to skip out on him," Zavik said.
"It's only two crates," Charra said. "What's the big deal?"
“That’s eight hundred credits at market value,” Brax said.
"Maybe he's waiting for the right job," Dani said.
"Whatever it is, I don't like it," Zavik said. "We make our own calls on what jobs to take."
"Let's just hope he calls soon," Brax said. "Then we can be done with it and move on."
"He's right," Dani said. "I'll go back to the ship and monitor the networks to see if we can find another shipment to placate Rodderick."
"That's a good idea," Zavik said. "Unfortunately, I have a feeling he's going to find the job for us, and it won't be as easy as the last."
Dani and Brax went back to the ship. Charra stayed with Zavik at the bar. They watched the end of the dashball match and had a few more drinks.
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Zavik was used to doing that when it was just Charra and himself. They both seemed to enjoy the silence. "What are your plans, once we get settled with Rodderick?" Zavik finally mustered up the will to ask.
"When I joined you, I said it'd only be for a year or so," Charra said. "Now, it's already been over a year and a half."
"You know you're welcome to stay as long as you like," Zavik said.
"I like your crew enough all right, it's why I've stayed so long. First time in a long time I felt close to anyone. The Milnok gang pretends to be a family, but there's no real loyalty there. Just opportunities for your own selfish advancement. Everyone wants to look good to the higher-ups. Your closest friend will stab you in the back just to get ahead."
"Well, I know I'm glad you've stayed, and I'm pretty sure Dani and Brax feel the same. I want it to feel like family. I don't want to be the ruler just because it's my ship. So if there are any concerns about that, let me know."
"Sometimes there are other jobs out there I wish I could do," Charra said, his eyes failing to meet Zavik's.
"What kind of jobs?" Zavik asked.
"Ones that pay better, for starts," he said.
"We take pretty good paying jobs," Zavik said.
"Sometimes, but that's only if they line up with your agenda."
"What's my agenda?" Zavik asked.
Charra stared at him, his head tilting to the side. Charra had no love for Red Moon, what Rovun did, unless he was a low-level enforcer just trying to get by, but even then only as a last resort. But Zavik could tell his interest in the organization had waned recently. Information on Red Moon bases and shipments had slowed. Zavik preferred to wait for jobs involving them, even going so far as to pass up more lucrative jobs just for the shot at attacking a Red Moon convoy. He knew they didn't always approve. But Charra could easily find another ride if he really wanted. He would have no shortage of pilots looking for someone with his rather impressive fighting skills. Zavik was grateful that he and Brax had stuck it out so long, and after months of Dani casually mentioning it, and then deliberately saying it, he was beginning to realize that if he didn't take other jobs, they were going to leave, and as much as he loved being alone with Dani, he needed them to survive out here. The Outer Spiral was not the friendliest place for humans or anyone without a good couple of blasters at their side.
"Don't answer that," Zavik said before Charra could open his mouth. "I know, Red Moon. That last one sure was exciting. I remember when that grenade went off next to our rover and we flipped down that ravine. You climbed back up it so fast and took out almost all the Red Moon men before we could even reach the top."
Charra leaned back and smiled. "Yeah, good times. That's what I want."
"To fight?
"To help. This Galaxy is screwed up worse than anything. The Council has their illusion of order, but we all know better. Out here, at least, in the Outer Spiral, it's lawless. The crimelords, like Rodderick, and organizations, like Blue Blazes and what's left of Red Moon, control more of what goes on out here than the Council."
"You don't mind going after Red Moon?" Zavik asked.
"If it's for the right cause and not just revenge. Revenge is messy, clouds your judgment. Gets people killed for no reason."
"You're right," Zavik said, the last part sticking particularly deep.
"Do you think he could ever come back from the Dark Sector?" Charra asked.
"I don't know," Zavik said. "I hope not, but who knows. It does seem strange to me that he risked getting trapped there without a means to come back, but the Chokmnd assure everyone that they're keeping a close watch on the one portal to the Dark Sector. Lightdrives weren't commercialized until after he was gone, so that takes away one way."
"Why would he return?" Charra asked. "He's got nothing to return to."
"Thanks to us," Zavik said with a smile. "He's crazy, power-hungry. He wants to rule the Galaxy. I'm sure if there's a way, he will find it. If he hasn't already."
"What makes you think that?"
"Those recent news stories about mysterious ships attacking Yalary and Helmstat. For some reason, it just worries me."
"It's not like it's the first time unidentified ships attacked a system. Pirates do it all the time, heck, Red Mood did it all the time..." The l
ast sentence lingered for a moment.
"Yes, they did, but these are different. Before they've always been known ships, but without any identifiable markings. According to the reports, these new ships have never been seen before. No markings, no origins, nothing. Ghost ships that fly in, destroy a structure and fly out. And the news always seems vague about what was hit. Things like, 'The Council says newly renovated offices were hit', or 'Abandoned factory demolished'. But they never say where exactly. It just feels strange."
"Sounds a little strange when you put it like that," Charra said.
"That's why I can't just drop it. It's why I can't let Red Moon just go on being a powerful syndicate. If he comes back, he can't have any resources to build off of. Otherwise, he will try and conquer again. It's the only thing that drives him. But, how about I guarantee our next job doesn't have anything to do with Red Moon. Does that work for you?"
"I can live with that," Charra said.
"So you'll stay on?"
"Yes, at least for a while longer."
A smile formed on Zavik’s face. He finished his drink and sat back. He wanted to order another one, to drown his misery at being stuck on Zalif, chained to Rodderick's every command. He wanted to rip the tracker off the Rinada, but he knew it was tied to a bomb, and any tampering would detonate the ship. His ship. It wasn't fair. They had been so close to being rid of Rodderick, but were they really? Was he really going to accept that as their last job, even if all four crates were delivered? Somehow Zavik didn't think so. Somehow he would have found a way to keep them chained to him. To continue to control their lives. His anger at Rodderick grew, but it just turned to anger at himself for ever getting them into that position. It was his idea, his plan...his fault. He was the reason they were all stuck here now.
Dani he could understand staying, for a while. She loved him, but the other two, why would they stay tied down to his failures? Maybe they really were loyal guys and good friends. He needed some of those, he thought. He just didn't realize he already had them.
He ordered another drink. No, make it a double.
Charra looked at him. A slight frown drew across his face. "You sure you want another?"
"We're drowning on this planet, so I'm just celebrating the only way I know how until the great one calls for us."
"Yes, well, I think I'm all tapped out. I'm going to head back to the ship."
"Suit yourself," Zavik said. He sat in the bar alone and drank some more as the day moved into night and the bar began to fill up in earnest.
Chapter 3
A transport ship, designation U.E.F-175, slipped out from the distorted bubble that blurred the vast reaches of space behind it. A giant planet popped into focus. It stared back at the occupants and flooded the bridge with an unsettling shade of green.
“They sure orbit these portals close to the system, Admiral,” the pilot of the small ship said.
“That they do, son,” Admiral Mike Snyder replied from the seat next to him. “You’d think that’d be something to include in the briefing material.”
“Yes, sir,” the pilot said. “Shall I make port for Yehvan, sir?”
“That’s where our reports indicate he is. Let’s hope it’s correct.”
The small transport moved away from the portal. Only the two passengers were onboard the ship traveling from Earth. Mike needed special permission from the Supreme Commander of the United Earth Forces to even make the trip. The Supreme Commander thought it was a fools mission to look for Zavik Khan. Khan, he said, was useful, once upon a time to help stop the Red Moon Rebellion. Now, though, what good could he do for the U.E.F. or Earth? They had all the supplies they needed for restoring Earth. That effort was almost complete even. With a human on the Council, almost anything Earth needed they could get, and get it legitimately. No, he knew Mike wanted to find Zavik so that he could get him steady work. Charity, the Supreme Commander called it, and he reminded Mike that the military was not in the business of being a charity. Even after saving the Galaxy from a Red Moon takeover, those in it, those he saved, still wouldn't give Zavik a break. Mike would.
Mike inhaled deeply, the artificial atmosphere of the ship, heavily processed and re-circulated, was stale and cold. A metallic taste from the catalyst stung the back of his throat. It was nothing like the warm, filling air of Earth. This was almost like inhaling in a vacuum. It worked against your lungs to breathe deep, attempting to draw the life out of you. All starships were like that, something he thought he'd be used to by now. Too much time on Earth made him forget about it.
The pilot began the descent into Zalif. Mike closed his eyes, the bright orange of the star burned through his eyelids. Quickly his thoughts flashed from one place to the next in his head. He settled in on a memory and let it flood his mind.
He was suddenly back on Earth, a rifle in his hand. Black armor covered his chest and legs. A blast helmet with the shield up rested on his head. He was skinnier, yes very much so, and had more of that red hair. He barked orders at his men. There were four of them, two rookies, an experienced soldier that had just moved over from Charlie unit, and long-time friend, Zavik Khan. He and Zavik had been friends since they were kids, and now they were training for battle in a war they both thought Earth had no business being in.
The Sequoia-Council conflict had wrecked havoc throughout a small sector of the Galaxy. A conniving new leader persuaded the Sequoia race to seek independence from the Galactic Community and they rebelled against the Council’s rule.
The Sequoia made contact with the Community about three thousand years before Earth. As far as the other races were concerned they were relative newcomers. They could stand eye-to-eye with humans but their squat faces were covered in short hairs. Most of them were brown skinned with blonde hair. They could be fierce fighters in hand-to-hand combat and the rapid development of their firearms after joining the Community was frightening to the more established races that were used to prolonged periods of peace.
Their desire to go against Council rule and challenge their authority struck deep into the minds of the Councilors and the other races. There had been conflicts between the races before, but no full-scale war had been waged in over five thousand years. A new race causing such strife made some of the older members of the Community look upon all newcomers with contempt. This war, that was not of human creation, still made them look bad, especially with their own history of wars readily known.
It was after a war that humans made contact with the Galactic Community. The Great Space War led to the development of near light speed space travel. Soon after making contact the famines came and the desperation of the human race reached its pinnacle. The Community didn't want to help Earth, fearing they were too war hungry of a race to truly fit in. It took until the Red Moon Rebellion, almost two hundred years after contact, to secure a spot on the Council and then they were finally given the resources they needed to restore Earth to sustainable living.
In response to the Sequoia threat, the Council blockaded the planet in an attempt to halt all trade with the system. Soon after the initial blockade, full-scale war broke out between the Council forces and the Sequoias. The death tolls rose quickly. It was prolonged for four years as the Council resisted pressure to invade the system, which would cause catastrophic destruction to the planet.
It was three years into the war when Earth felt it needed to provide support. The planet was still reeling from widespread famine and it was a struggle to support the life that lived there, but the Earth Council decided that sending troops to fight the Sequoias was the best idea.
Mike disagreed. He thought they shouldn’t get involved in disputes between races that could care less about them, but he was already an officer in the military, and the one thing he knew not to do was to question the orders of a superior.
Earth only sent weapons at first, hoping this would be enough to warm the Council into giving more supplies for Earth’s restoration. When it looked as if the Council would make no de
cisions on supplies until after the war was over, Earth’s Council decided that sending their own troops could help bring an end to the war, and show that they were loyal to the Council.
The first wave of ships and troops sent to aid the Council was wiped out within a month. Their training was set up to simulate human opponents, a very costly mistake. The Sequoias fought like no other race. They positioned half their Starfleet in the atmosphere of their home planet, Sequa, devastating any troop transports that tried to land. They used the other half to blockade other capital ships from reaching the planet’s surface.
When the Council decided invasion was the only way to capture the Sequoia’s new leader, and bring an end to the needless war, they needed a way to break through the Sequoia fleet.
Mike’s unit was tasked with leading a small raid to their command center on Sequa. There they would need to steal the data on the Sequoia’s fleet in hopes that a way to disable or destroy the ships could be found.
The rookies were slowing their training down. This raid was dangerous. He knew if they didn’t pull it off perfectly they could lose a lot of men. It was his first time being the commander of a unit, and he was determined to not lose any men.
The start signal echoed around the group. “Smart, Jones, take the right. Khan and Davis, you’re with me.”
“Puting the rookies together this time?” Zavik asked.
“I need to see how good they work together,” Mike responded. “We’ve got three minutes to get to that tower.” He pointed down the training grounds to a makeshift tower. The sides of the grounds were raised, boxes littered the area for cover. Guards stood at the top of the tower, ready to take out all who approached. A dropship flew overhead and began its descent to the ground just in front of the tower.