StarFlight: The Prism Baronies (Beyond the Outer Rim Book 2)

by Reiter

  “I also remember that the good Duke objected to the binding of his daughter to the Sylgarr… hmmm, as memory returns, it was not declared a House until after that binding. Still, time, it would seem, has revealed the Duke’s instincts to be no less sharp than his blade.

  “But more to the point,” TrenGal noted as he turned to face his heir and most favored child, “… you have been in contact with Maradothia, yes?”

  “I have, Father,” G’Dalior said in defeat. He would not lie, not to the Throne, but he had betrayed a trust. “It was at her behest that I came here today.”

  “I would hope you now possess a vision better than that intention,” TrenGal said, walking to place his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Cynthali’s words have created a most perfect frame, and we have at last found a fault in your glorious armour of life, my son. You love your family! A fault that only increases the power of that armour. While only one head may wear the crown, my beloved son, it is a sorrowful soul that seeks to be the Throne alone.”

  “Your words are the wisdom of the Stars,” G’Dalior said, grasping his father’s forearm. “I will take this matter to resolution and see to it that it does not mar your reign.”

  “Our reign, son,” TrenGal said with a smile. “I do not foresee an early departure from this life, but I sleep a most peaceful slumber knowing that I leave this kingdom to such capable hearts and minds.” TrenGal turned to make his departure. His children bowed and his subjects saluted, taking a kneeling stance. “If only my faults were so gracious.

  “Valwonn, do not think your interest and your actions have gone unnoticed. Well done, my son. Report to the Regalion when you have settled this matter.” Despite his ability and legendary power, the Emperor walked to a stairway and took it down.

  “That is not the way to his chambers,” Valwonn remarked.

  “He goes to inform Mother,” Cynthali concluded. “She and Duke Vylprall are close and they are all fond of Lady Sylgarr.”

  “Then it is only her taste in men that is at fault,” Valwonn remarked. G’Dalior turned to address his brother, but Cynthali’s hand touched against his chest. His eyes locked on hers and his anger only increased in the stare she gave him.

  “Thank you, brother,” G’Dalior said without looking away from Cynthali. “Take your men and give me this portion of the palace.”

  “But of course, my Prince and heir to our father’s throne,” Valwonn said before snapping his fingers and turning quickly on his heels. He walked briskly, finally allowing his face to gloat. G’Dalior had volunteered to investigate the issue and the Emperor had decided to give it to Valwonn instead. It was a minor victory, but that did not make it any less sweet.

  Only when the footfalls of the departing entourage could not be heard did G’Dalior speak again.

  “This is not you, sister,” he said softly.

  “It would seem that my statement was more accurate than I would want to admit,” she returned. “Your only fault is your love for your family.”

  “And you see that as a weakness?!”

  “It is when Valwonn is a member of that family,” she quickly returned. “And, at the moment, that list also includes Maradothia, but at least she is not actively seeking to be malicious. I do not know what measure of circumstance has spun our little sister about, but you are so enraged that you are losing sight of the truth.”

  “The truth that Valwonn has agents in the palace?” G’Dalior barked. “That much I knew.”

  “And not one of them would dare draw close to you,” Cynthali argued before pointing over to Ribbisadia. “Not when you have such might so close to your person. No, brother, the revelation is that Valwonn has agents in and around Maradothia! That is how he has come to know anything! And now you’ve given him a second stroke against you.”

  “A second stroke?” G’Dalior questioned.

  “The Star Gaper,” Cynthali said, reminding her brother of the event that Ribbisadia had mentioned earlier. “He did not use it today, which means he is holding on to it for use at some later date.”

  “Which makes me question how you came to know of this matter, sister.”

  “I know hardly anything of it,” Cynthali admitted. “But I have personal reasons for keeping an eye on the movements of our brother.”

  “I am sure you do,” G’Dalior smiled. “And just how is Nassadia?”

  “When I last saw her, Lady Tramull was well in her health and proceeding with her studies,” Cynthali said, trying to sound distant from the subject.

  “Would that be physiology?”

  “G’Dalior!” she snapped in a soft voice but could not keep from smiling to see the Regalion chuckling. He ushered her to walk with him but she did not keep her elation for long. “I do not think Father would approve.”

  “As people, we are subjects of his empire,” G’Dalior stated. “But no one is the owner of the passions of their heart. No throne commands that province.”

  “Yes, I can see why Valwonn hates you in the same stride that Maradothia adores you,” Cynthali stated.

  “And where does that leave you?”

  “I am with our brother, Trenzun,” she answered with a smile, “… decidedly and most happily removed from the contest.” G’Dalior stopped walking as a frown fell over his face.

  “There it is,” Ribbisadia thought, very familiar with the look. “The plan-egg has been laid and it is about to crack!”

  “Trenzun!”

  ** b *** t *** o *** r **

  With the remaining crew finally making their way into the auxiliary hangar, there were mixed feelings in the chamber, though not in equal proportions. Llaz would have preferred to be the furthest away from JoJo; somewhere on the other side of the room would have been ideal. But those days were gone. His position was to be closer than anyone else, and, in the absence of Z, on her right-hand side. There were many who might have taken the opportunity to square their shoulders and stick out their chests, but Llaz took a simple stance, arms folded, and his eyes, for the most part, were cast to the floor at his feet, waiting for his captain to speak.

  Anxious was the word that best described most of the others as they found their choice of positions on the floor. Most patted Thomasine and Obanyo on their shoulders as they walked by, whispering sentiments of congratulations at a job well done. The former toyed with the moment, blowing on her nails and buffing them on her jacket while the latter turned around and pointed at the others who had been instrumental in the success of their little side project. Jocasta saw the mutual appreciation and nodded. She stood there, cane in her belt loop, hands on her hips, wondering what to make of what was in front of her.

  “It was certainly a team effort,” she said softly, looking back at Llaz who lifted his head long enough to acknowledge what had been said. She turned back toward the spacecraft and looked over it once more. “Sure is a pretty thing,” she remarked, stepping over to run her ungloved hand along the hull. “Damn pretty. Anyone know what the hull material is?”

  “Soborian Pearl,” Kryltane stated with a bright smile stretched wide across his face. Jocasta looked at one of her engineers-in-training and nodded at what he had said. She turned to look at Llaz, waiting until there was eye contact, and then pointed at him.

  “You shut up,” she commanded her First Mate. “Is that clear?” Llaz moved his fingers across his lips as if to seal them and Jocasta’s hand returned to her hip. “Good man.

  “Shotgun, you looked as pleased as a man with a ‘want one, get one free’ coupon at a Geek Warehouse. Try to remember I’m not a local girl.” Remembering that the mystique associated with the ship was entirely a local matter, Kryltane lost his smile in exchange for a look of stark realization. He started to speak but heeded the lifted hand of Jocasta as she turned to face Willis Siekor. “And what was your part in this?” she asked.

  “Cheerleader,” Siekor answered with a boastful smile on his face and his hands on his hips. His hands came away from his sides as he leaned forward on the s
houlders of Nielsen Feldspar and Olreye Seaton to shout, “We are pirates of a fashion!”

  “We just want the Prism Passion!” the crew replied in hearty, eager voices.

  “And how will this crew score that ship?” Siekor sang.

  “Starblazer hands blast, cut, and rip! Hu-Ah!” everyone shouted before they applauded. Jocasta smiled and pointed at Siekor.

  “Okay… that hurt. You people need to stick to ass-kicking and stealing Kot.”

  “Aye-aye, Captain.”

  “How about you, Hennix?” Jocasta asked. “What was your part in this?”

  “Escort, Captain. The Trident and two of her more incredible Z-added options saw to getting Thom and Scamps to the site where the ship was stored.”

  “Z-added options?”

  “D, would you do the honors?” Hennix requested. With one touch to his brace-com, Deolun brought up images of Hennix and Bruveia clad in armoured battle-suits. They were near form-fitting constructs with plates of armour over the chest, shoulders, elbows, forearms, hips, and knees. Gauntlets and boots covered the hands and feet. There were whooping calls and whistles in response to how formidable the two looked, and Jocasta turned quickly to look at Bruveia.

  “Hell no, there will not be a rematch!” Jocasta said with a smile and clearly conveyed intent. Bruveia pointed at Jocasta and cackled, leaning over on Hennix who was happy to hold her up. Jocasta looked back at the image and shuddered, shaking her head.

  “If it looks this good, there’s no telling how well it moves!” Jocasta thought. “He’s been wanting to make me a battle-suit for the longest, but I kept telling him no, that it wasn’t my thing. Now I know why he sighed. I so love this man’s work, but I hate those things!

  “Tolip, fill in the cracks for me, love.”

  “Boss asked– I’m sorry, Captain,” Silnee said, putting her hand to her mouth. “I meant Llaz.”

  Jocasta turned to her acting First Mate and smirked. “You give yourself that name?”

  “They did,” Llaz replied, gesturing to the crew.

  “Good name. Tank, see that it’s entered into the record.”

  “Aye-aye, Captain!” Mel shouted back with a bright smile on his face.

  “Get back to it, Tolip.”

  “Aye, Captain. Boss asked Shotgun to make sensor sweeps of the immediate area during your descent,” Silnee explained, and Jocasta looked back at her new Cutter. His eyes were once again looking at the floor, but there was something to his stance; something that had not been a part of him before this event. He was proud, and he had every right to be. Still something of significant weight was visible to her. “Shotgun found a scrambler field on the grounds of the estate west of your intended landing site.”

  “A sign that usually means mind your own business,” Jocasta remarked.

  “Or the beginnings of a trap,” Silnee added. Jocasta agreed with the perspective. “Shotgun broke through the field–”

  “Whoa!” Kryltane spoke up. “I think it should be noted that the tool I used to get through that field was built by Z.”

  “So was this,” Jocasta said, quickly drawing her blaster. “Do you think he takes credit for every shot I make? On this ship, thanking Z is a given. This is why we have the First Law of the Xara-Mansura: don’t–”

  “Piss off the engineer!” the crew cried out before most of them chuckled.

  “Damn straight,” Jocasta said as she holstered her weapon. “Get back to it, Tolip.”

  “We got through the field and found this,” Silnee said, gesturing to the pearl-white spacecraft. “She’s called the Prism Passion and she’s a local legend. And when I say local, I mean the Prism Baronies.

  “When the Soboree first ventured from the Outer Rim, it was discovered they had the natural ability to generate EnerJa. Many set about the task of trying to capture and enslave them. Two slave houses were built; one in the Inner Rim, near Primus, and one in the Middle Rim, pretty close to where Black Gate is located. The people who would eventually become the Black Assassins destroyed the one in the Inner Rim and liberated the Soboree there…”

  “Great!” Jocasta thought. “Another reason to love that man!”

  “… but it was the Baronial Council that launched the attack that liberated the Soboree. No one knows how the Soboree said ‘thank you’ to the Black Assassins…”

  “Bet I could find that one out,” Jocasta thought.

  “… for the Baronial Council, however, the Soboree commissioned the construction of the Prism Passion. The Soborian Pearl in the hull plating makes it nearly invulnerable to all energy-based attacks, and the frame is nearly indestructible.”

  “Say what?!” Jocasta barked, stepping back and looking at the ship much differently. Before she had thought it looked pretty, but relatively heavy and slow. Now she was thinking that it made for the perfect getaway vehicle.

  “Talk about luck of the draw,” Silnee continued. “The hitch of the story is this: each barony lays claim to owning the Prism Passion, and they take turns stealing it from one another. Over the years each barony has had it for a time.”

  “Who’s held it the least?” Jocasta quickly asked.

  “The Onyx Barony,” Kryltane answered. “And by quite a bit. The next closest barony is the Galena Barony with nearly twenty months more to its time of possession.”

  “That’s almost two years,” Jocasta commented.

  “The Onyx Barony has had its problems with a number of uprisings and revolutions,” Kryltane informed, “… not to mention a nearly-failed economy. However, under the leadership of the Orgen Family they’ve seriously rebounded. Now they’re considered to be one of the richest baronies in The Territories.”

  Jocasta kept her gaze on the ship. Yes, it was nearly impregnable, but it was not ‘her’ or anything she wanted for her crew. In the same way that she could appreciate the suits Z had made for Hennix and Bruveia, being cooped up in one still held no appeal for her.

  “Of course, that does bring one thing to mind,” Jocasta thought as she looked for her Trident team. She beckoned them to approach.

  “It’s time to make a few adjustments around here. It’s pretty clear that the Pinion Project is off to a very good start. But you three are without crew names, and that comes to an end right now. Deolun, you are Centerpointe, and be sure you spell that with three ‘e’s. Hennix… you’re Right Spike, and Bruveia…”

  “Left Spike?” she asked, obviously not liking the idea.

  “Nope. You’re Southpaw,” Jocasta replied with a sly grin. Bruveia returned the smile and nodded in approval. “Of course, I’m not done. Cilrus, they used to call you Ga, am I right?” Cilrus nodded his head ‘yes’. “Well I’m making CeCe official!”

  “Thank you, Captain.”

  “Thanks nothing,” Jocasta quickly replied. “Tell these people what you did at the Sylgarr Estate. They’ll figure out how I came to that one. Roc, you and Feldspar will keep your names, which leaves me with… where the devil is Culshee?”

  “She’s got herself a bit of a stomach virus,” Amos informed. “It’s not fatal and I was able to keep it from being contagious, but a regen won’t get rid of it. It’s going to take a couple of days.”

  “Okay, Nightingale, whatever you say. And thanks for the good work. Bantar, where are you?”

  “Right over here, Captain,” the young man said as he walked forward. He looked tired, and circles were beginning to form under his eyes, but he smiled in earnest as he approached.

  “You want to stay with us, Bantar?”

  “You better believe it, Captain!”

  “Make me believe it, Spectre!” Jocasta said, stepping closer. “… and yes, that’s r-e, not e-r.” Leaning to whisper in his ear, she continued, “… and after this you report to your bed. You read me, mister?”

  “Clean and green, Captain.”

  “Olreye, mean as it sounds, you’re Sonar.” Laughter rose up as Olreye was taunted. Siekor grabbed his marked ear and tugged on it. Olreye laughed
as he moved the hand away.

  “That makes you Silk,” Jocasta said, pointing directly at Synh Dayami without looking at him and he bowed to her, with his head down, in response. Jocasta then motioned for everyone to draw close. She looked at each on in turn and they moved to stand closer to her.

  “Look around you,” she said softly, “… just in case you missed it before. You’re standing in the company of legends! Look to your left… and now to your right… legends, I tell you! Today, it’s plundering an unsuspecting hidey-hole… tomorrow it will be whatever we desire.

  “Feel it!” she stressed at just above a whisper. “I want you to close your eyes and feel it. This is what it is to belong to something that wants to belong to you! Take a good sample and hold on to it, because these are the good times. The bad are just around the bend. Lift those good sails and ride them through the bad currents! I promise you, if you can hold on to that, this ship will continue to fly.

  “Tolip, set a course for the Onyx Barony. Shotgun, see if you can put us in contact with someone there who will be willing to negotiate the sale of one Prism Passion. Might as well look and see if we can put any truth to the claims of their financial standing.

  “Centerpointe, scan the Kot out of that thing! I want a report so tight with details that Z will have to use a dictionary!” There were a few chuckles as Deolun reacted to his assignment.

  “Roc, I want you to get on that stove and make it sing! As soon as we’re beyond the Garnet Barony provincial markers, break out the rum and serve my people a fitting feast. Job well done, people. That’s what I call one fine-ass haul!” The crew cheered loud and hearty before they started to go their separate ways.

  “Mr. Llaz,” Jocasta called to him as she walked toward him. She had chosen to speak in a somewhat softer tone, given that Silnee and Siekor were the only ones who stood a chance in hearing her. “When the rum is served, I will see you in my Ready Room to discuss your tactics. Bottom line: you had Kot for a plan; runny and smelly! They saved your ass, Llaz. We need to talk!”