Humble Beginnings (Tri System's Edge Series Book 1)

by Ron Schrader

  Standing next to the fence, she looked around to find no one in sight. Confident she was in the clear, Kalla jumped the height of the wall, grabbed the top, and pulled her head up to get a view. The back of several buildings was about all she could see from where she hung. Satisfied the coast was clear, she pulled herself up and over the fence, dropping the long distance to her feet.

  Brushing the rusty dust from her clothes, she headed toward an alley that led out into the street. Once in the open, she located a tavern across the dirt road and headed toward it, ignoring the stares of passersby. She quickly caught on that virtually all the people around her were men, and rough-looking men at that.

  Reaching the tavern, she pushed the rusty metal swinging doors inward and entered, bringing all eyes on her as she stepped inside to a rough crowd, all men aside from the four to five girls serving drinks and providing entertainment. Without skipping a beat, Kalla walked across the room to the bar, ignoring the silence of the bewildered crowd obviously not used to seeing a woman like Kalla, who wore a gun belt instead of a corset.

  “I’m looking to unload some goods,” she said, looking at the bartender, purposely speaking loud enough that most of the room could hear her.

  “Whatcha sellin’ there, darlin’?” came a loud response from the middle of the room, followed by bellowing laughter.

  Kalla turned and stared down the crowd until the room fell silent once again. “Oh, just some stolen Directive weapons,” she said with confidence and authority. “Stuff I doubt many of you could handle.”

  Laughter filled the room once more as the rough crowd joked and teased.

  Kalla ignored them, turning back toward the bartender. “Can you tell me where to find a guy by the name of Quinn?” she questioned impatiently. “I was supposed to meet up with him over a week ago but had a setback.”

  “Don’t know about any Quinn,” he quietly replied, “but if yer serious, there is a guy in town, bigwig in the militia. He might be interested.”

  “I’m listening . . .” She leaned in to better hear the bartender.

  “Word on the street is that he’s plannin’ to bring down them Derectiv folks. Wants to shut ’em down fer good! Been stayin’ in the lodge near the end of town—Butcher’s Lodge. I bet you find him in the lounge right about now if ya hurry. They call him the general.”

  Kalla turned toward the door.

  “Tell him I sent ya,” the bartender called out as she walked out the door. “Name’s Shaw— Ted Shaw.”

  Walking down the dusty street, Kalla was reminded of her adopted home, Childus15. It was much like this place, just not quite as barren. Svati Prime was the farthest planet from the sun, truly at the edge of the Dar system. And until today, she’d never been here before, having previously heeded the warnings of others. Most of her life she’d heard the stories about the kind of people that called Svati Prime home, ruthless killers. They’d gladly take goods off your hands—after you were dead. But the day she made the call to take on Directive property was the day she’d set the wheels in motion that would inevitably lead her here. It was the only place she had a chance of finding a buyer.

  Approaching the large building Shaw had referred her to, Kalla headed up the wide wooden staircase that led to the entrance. Reaching the top of the stairs, she found a large dark-skinned man standing in front of the door. He wore black dress pants, a button-up creamy-white collared shirt, and a black tie that hung from his thick neck. Around his waist he wore a black leather belt that held four large holstered pistols, two on each side. His arms were folded, eyes glaring at her, as she approached the door.

  “And what can I do for you?” he asked, polite but with a hint of irritation in his deep voice.

  “I’m here to see a guest, the general,” Kalla quickly responded, expecting him to just open the door and let her in.

  He stood blocking her way, still glaring at her, breathing loudly as if to intimidate her. “As I’m sure you can understand, I’m somewhat particular about those whom I let into my establishment.”

  “Oh good,” she said. “I hate dealing with non authoritative types. Looks like a very nice place,” she added, hoping to sweet-talk him into letting her in.

  “And is this guest expecting you?” he replied, ignoring her attempted scheme.

  Done playing games, Kalla leaned in slightly and made eye contact before responding. With a slight degree of doubt in her mind, she attempted to persuade him, hoping to avoid a fight. “You’ll want to just open the door up and let me in now, please,” she said, not sure if she’d be able to convince him so easily.

  As if he suddenly became a different person, the man smiled politely, then unexpectedly turned and opened the door. “There you are, ma’am,” he said, letting her walk by and enter the building. “Enjoy your stay,” he added just before the door closed behind her.

  Once inside, her eyes immediately scanned the room for someone who might be able to direct her to the general. She didn’t see anyone at first, but she couldn’t help notice how luxurious the entryway was compared to the run-down and unkempt appearance outside. It was as though she was in a completely different building.

  The oval shaped room she’d stepped into was quite large and open, with a ceiling that went at least three levels high. Various animal heads were mounted decoratively along the walls amidst pictures and other trinkets.

  “Hello?” came a raspy voice from across the room.

  Kalla looked around until she located the origin of the greeting. Standing behind a barred window, the word Reception painted above it, an older man wearing a faded suit looked suspiciously out at Kalla, waiting for her to respond.

  “Hi,” she replied. “I’m hoping you can help me find someone, a man—the general?”

  “Well, uh, yes,” he responded, somewhat flustered. “But who are you and how did you get in? Do you have an invitation?” he questioned, concern in his voice. The man fidgeted as he waited for a response, unwilling to make direct eye contact.

  Kalla could see his bald head glistening in the dim light as he perspired, apparently nervous around her. “I’m Kalla,” she answered. “I was told I could find the general here. Shaw sent me. If you could just point me in the right direction, I’ll be on my way.” Her tone was clear and concise as she responded.

  “Well, I don’t know . . .” the old man said, scratching his head as he thought about what to do. “I guess if Byron let you inside . . . after all, it is his lodge.” He continued to fidget and shake with a look of confusion on his face. “But I need to see your invitation first.”

  Moving closer to the barred window, Kalla managed to make eye contact just long enough to say her piece. “No need for an invitation. Can you please tell me where I can find the general?” she asked softly, putting the old man at ease with her words.

  “Certainly,” he immediately responded. “He should be in the lounge right now, smoking his evening cigar. Through the big door over there.” The old man pointed toward the lounge doorway, then waved politely as Kalla walked away. “Have a nice evening,” he called out.

  Kalla headed straight for the entrance to the lounge, spotting the general immediately as he was the only man in the room wearing military garb. She gracefully walked over to where he sat alone, propped back in a comfortable looking lounge chair, smoking a fat cigar. Finding a seat across from him, she didn’t bother to ask before plopping down in the plush leather chair, smiling at him as she sat.

  Clearly irritated by the unexpected intrusion, the general squinted his eyes and blew a large puff of smoke toward her. “And who might you be, young lady?” he said forcefully. “I don’t recall asking for a companion tonight.”

  Kalla laughed at the audacity of the general before returning to the somber task at hand. “The general, I presume?” She paused, waiting for a response that never came. “I have something that I believe will interest you.” Her words came out slightly flirtatious as she attempted to break the ice with the general, determined to
complete this transaction. “Weapons,” she continued. “New technology.”

  “I already have weapons.” He replied as he blew another large puff of smoke toward her. “Now, please leave. I’m trying to enjoy my evening.” As though expecting her to obey, the general turned slightly in his chair to watch a large screen above the bar nearby.

  “Directive technology.” Kalla waited as the general turned back toward her, a look of intrigue on his face. “I’m just looking for an interested buyer.”

  “And who told you I’d be interested?” he asked, somewhat irritated, as if he planned to reprimand the person who’d caused this interruption.

  “Shaw, from the tavern down the road,” she confessed. “Was he telling the truth?” She held her composure as she tried unsuccessfully to read his facial expressions.

  After a brief pause, he finally leaned back against the soft cushions where he sat. “Perhaps,” he said, taking a deep draft from the cigar still burning bright at the end. “But I’d of course have to see the goods first,” came the trailing final response.

  “That’s fine,” Kalla replied. “I can meet you tomorrow.”

  The general pulled a pen and notepad from his pocket and quickly wrote something down. “I’ll be here at first light, tomorrow morning,” he said, tearing the page from the pad and handing it to her. “If indeed you do have something of interest to me, we’ll make the exchange on the spot.”

  Kalla nodded in agreement and wished him a good night, then stood and made her way to the front door of the lodge. Glancing at the piece of paper he’d handed her, Kalla found coordinates that her navigation system would have to decipher.

  Reaching the front door, she paused before walking outside. “Thanks for the help!” she said to the old man at the front desk.

  “What?” he asked. “Who are you now?”

  Kalla smiled and exited the building, where the large man still guarding the door glared at her as she walked past him and made her way down the steps and onto the dirt road. Things were going even better than planned, and Kalla couldn’t help but grin as she walked alone into the evening light, excited about the pending sale she was about to make. Simultaneously, she was enjoying the amazing vision she now had that allowed her to see as clear as day.

  When she reached the tavern, Kalla found a gang of rough-looking men outside in the street, apparently waiting for her, blocking the alley that led to her ship. They quickly surrounded her and began taunting and laughing.

  “C’mere, sweet thing!” one man called out, inciting the others to more laughter.

  “I don’t bite . . . not too hard anyway,” came another comment.

  “How ’bout a kiss?” asked a third man, ending Kalla’s patience with these crude men and their game.

  “How about you all go back to your drinking and live to see another day?” she said, standing still and confident, awaiting their response.

  Following the lead of one of the men, they all began to laugh. But as the laughter died down, the men quickly became serious about their intentions.

  “Now listen up, you wench, you’ll just do what we all says, and you’ll like it,” said the apparent leader of the gang. With that, the half dozen men all charged her at once.

  Already prepared to react, Kalla’s fist reached the first man within range, sending him flying backward several meters, knocking him flat on his back. One by one she defended herself in like manner against each assailant, blocking their attempts to connect frantic punches and kicks, sending each of them inevitably to the ground with swift, powerful blows. In under a minute, she’d effectively ended the would-be assault, rendering her assailants unconscious and lucky to still be breathing.

  Finished dealing with the unexpected distraction, Kalla headed into the alleyway, but before jumping the fence, she looked around one last time to make sure no one was watching. Standing in the shadows by the tavern, she caught a glimpse of a man, the general, staring toward her, a faint smile on his face. It was dark enough that she was certain he couldn’t see her where she stood now, but she waited to be sure. After a few minutes passed, he stepped out of the shadows and began walking toward the lodge as though he was just out for a late night stroll, whistling as he walked away. She wondered for a moment if he’d seen her brawl in the street, then brushed it aside, quickly hopped the fence, and headed back to her ship.

  Jarek was waiting impatiently on the ramp, and as she walked up to him, he greeted her with a short kiss. His strong arms gently pulled her close. She leaned back slightly so she could look into his eyes.

  “I guess you missed me,” she said softly before leaning in for another kiss. They stood together in silence briefly, holding each other and enjoying the moment.

  “So did you find your buyer?” Jarek finally asked.

  “Yes,” came the short reply, Kalla not yet wanting the moment to end. She pressed her head against his chest, imagining what their life together would be like once the cargo had been sold. She’d have the money to go anywhere, do anything.

  “Well?” Jarek prodded. “What’s next?”

  Kalla finally gave in and looked up at him. “We’re meeting the buyer in the morning. If he likes my cargo, the deal is on.” She paused briefly, remembering how she’d seen him in the street. “He seemed a bit strange, but I guess when you’re dealing with people way out here, that’s what you get.” She pulled away as Jarek slowly released her. “Let’s get ready for tomorrow, shall we?”

  The two went to work organizing the cargo and preparing samples for the general to inspect the following day, working late into the night.

  When morning arrived, Kalla awoke on the floor, Jarek holding her close. She laid her head back on his chest and looked up at his face while he slept, thinking about the events that had brought them here together. She felt a powerful bond with him now, in spite of the short time she’d known him, a bond that exceeded anything she’d ever shared with another man. She closed her eyes a little longer, wishing they could just spend the day doing nothing else, but they would need to leave soon. She sat up and woke Jarek with a nudge. “Time to get up,” she said.

  “Already?” Jarek asked, trying to pull her back down.

  “Stop,” she said with a smile. “We have work to do.”

  ~

  After a few minutes of freshening up for the day, Kalla sat in her pilot seat and entered the coordinates the general had given her the night before.

  “You ready?” she asked Jarek, who sat next to her, looking unusually tense.

  “Let’s get this over with,” he replied.

  She fired up the engines and lifted off the ground. Following the nav system’s direction, the ship darted off into the sky toward their destination. The short flight gave Kalla little time to think, but she couldn’t shake the mildly anxious feeling in her gut. Not sure why she felt this way, she convinced herself that it was nothing more than the excitement of starting a new chapter in her life.

  As they approached the designated area, Kalla could see the general and a few of his men standing in front of a small cruiser only slightly larger than her own ship. She guided the ship downward, turning it so its cargo hold faced the men on the ground, and landed the vessel. Once safely on the ground, Kalla cut the engine and waited long enough for the dust to settle before moving. “Let’s do this,” she finally said, turning to Jarek. “Just keep an eye on him for me.”

  Jarek nodded, a stern look on his face.

  Reaching the cargo hold, Kalla went straight to the control panel on the wall and opened the door.

  The general was already standing right outside as the door slowly opened and the ramp to the cargo hold folded down. “Good morning!” he said in an unexpected but friendly tone. He had a big smile on his face, and his overall demeanor was quite cheerful compared to the brashness of the night before. “I’m anxious to see what you have for me.”

  “Yeah, uh, great,” Kalla replied, a little taken aback by the abrupt change in attitude. “Every
thing’s up here,” she said, motioning for him to walk up the large cargo-hold ramp that spanned almost the entire width of the ship.

  “And you are?” asked the general, looking at Jarek, who stood farther back inside.

  “Jarek,” he answered, saying nothing more.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jarek,” came the general’s reply. “Now, then, show me what you’ve got.”

  Kalla began telling the general about each of the crates. The cargo-hold contained over two dozen of them, all containing various weapons—most of it new technology.

  Kalla conveniently left out the part about how she’d acquired it all from a Directive vessel. The ship had been severely damaged in an asteroid field en route to Vespe-Keda, the capital planet of the Tri Systems and headquarters of the Directive. She and her crew had been the first to arrive on the scene to find the ship abandoned, so it only made sense to scavenge what they could before anyone else arrived. While she didn’t proactively support any existing militia, being in the business she was in, Kalla had never cared much for the Directive either. So to her this exchange was just about getting paid, nothing else.

  After a half hour of detailing the various pieces contained in each crate, Kalla finished her tour of the cargo. “So what do you think?” she asked, hoping the deal was a go. “Interested?”

  “Definitely,” the general promptly responded. “And if you can deliver everything to my base on Asherah, I will double your asking price.”

  Quite shocked at this new request, Kalla glanced at Jarek, looking for guidance before responding.

  “Why not just finish this now?” Jarek called out. “We’re all here, and your ship is plenty big enough,” he said in an attempt to eliminate any objection.

  “I’m simply short on time right now. Something unexpected has come up,” the general countered, ignoring Jarek and speaking directly to Kalla. “So what do you say? Do we have a deal?”