by Reiter
“The time anchor,” Dungias thought. “I must have erred during the Jump-Stride. But I know where Alpha will be in fifteen days… and I can feel… within the message Cihpares sent me… an image… no, a memory. A memory Satithe placed into Alpha before Cihpares loaded herself into it. Yes, I can see the others as they fell into the time stream.”
Grace grabbed on to Dungias’ wrist and arm as her mind and her capacity for telepathy were taken to new heights. She gasped at the wonder of the things she was made to see and sense. “Cih-par-es,” she muttered, looking into the face of the image of the entity and the Vinthur woman she had been in life. The sight of her death, however, was more than the woman could withstand and she collapsed. Dungias eased her down to the floor and then opened the door into the corridor.
“If I can see them,” he spoke softly as he walked, “… then Alpha was the last to be pulled from the ship – and therefore the last to arrive. If I take the time between my disappearance and the last memory of Alpha as the beginning and the ending of the event, then I can calculate where and when the others will appear.
“Fortunately, Grace knew where they took my things,” Dungias thought as the facility alarms sounded. He stopped at one particular door and waited. The reader for the door did not recognize him and he held his left arm out from his body. The grouping for Ardrian Marine marksmanship was something of discussion throughout the Rims. Dungias could now put the rumor to fact. Three bursts fired, and they all struck his hand, absorbed into his body. His fist then shattered the reader, ripping it from the wall. He dodged the next three round burst and hurled the hardware down the corridor. The frame smacked against the man’s face and he fell to the floor. The door to Grace’s office opened and Dungias moved quickly to check her computer. Her report on him had yet to be filed and the surveillance for the laboratory had been sent to two stations: Grace’s office and Security. The Star Chaser sent his hand thrust into the hardware, destroying the computer. He closed his eyes as the electrical back feed was absorbed. The Traveler could feel a fight coming on.
The foundation stones for a balanced success are honesty, character, integrity, faith, love and loyalty.
Zig Ziglar
(Rims Time: XII-4203.25)
With her eyes on the readout, Jocasta leaned back in her chair. Starting at zero, the numbers for the account total began to flash… then they started to roll, increasing the amount. The first comma came quickly, as was to be expected. When the number was six figures large, Jocasta fully expected for the speed of the numbers to begin slowing down. They did not. She picked up her glass as the second comma appeared and the figure rolled past seven figures.
“Someone is trying to impress me,” she thought. “Then again, I did pretty much threaten to take him out if he paid too low a price. Quordion just might be exercising a sense of self-preservation. Either way, color me impressed!” The number stopped and Jocasta threw back the last of the rum she had in her glass. “Now Fate is trying to test my resolve,” she considered. With no one else in the room, the amount that had just been deposited was information that she held alone.
“I trust you find that amount satisfactory, Captain Starblazer?” Quordion asked and Jocasta looked at her monitor screen to see his inquiry was genuine.
“You’re a man of your word, Baron,” she said, taking her feet off of her desk. “I’ll give you that. I’m sure my crew will be most appreciative.”
“Are you really going to give it all to them, JoJo?” he asked.
“That’s the plan,” she said confidently. “Comes a time when all the sabre-rattling in the world is just that: useless noise. I have a sturdy ship and a strong crew. It’s time to see if it’s a fine crew to go along with my fine ship. Besides, at the end of the day, they took the job all by themselves. I didn’t even know they were grabbing the damn thing. Didn’t know and didn’t care what the Prism Passion was! Took guts to take on the run, and skill to pull it off. Where I come from, that’s the sort of thing that gets rewarded!”
“It would seem I am not the only one bound to a code of ethics,” Quordion smiled as he spoke.
“Baron, neither one of us can name a person worth a damn that didn’t have a code of some sort,” Jocasta concluded. “… even if that code was ‘I don’t have a bloody code’. The sky is all open and free, but you need the stars to navigate. Code.”
“Would it be outside your code to tell me where you’re headed next?” Quordion asked.
“The Pearl Barony,” Jocasta said with an eager smile. She could see a change come over the Baron’s face as he looked away for a moment. “Is it me, or did the mood just suddenly change?”
Taking another moment to weigh how he should respond, Quordion finally spoke. “The Pearl Barony can be a rather precarious place, Captain. When my barony was at its worst, there were many ‘lost invitations’ to events where more than one barony participated. But I was not the only unwanted soul on the list of barons. Ivus Straum was there with me. The position of my barony, however, has reversed itself. I am now a welcome participant to the other Barons and Baronesses. Straum is still on the ‘lost invitation’ list.
“Let me also say,” Quordion quickly added, “… Ivus and I have held many events on those occasions we found ourselves on the outside looking in. It was our way of telling the Baronial hierarchy what it could do for us! And we still enjoy each other’s company.”
“But…” Jocasta prompted, taking hold of her cigaro.
“I guess you could say he stands too close to power,” the Onyx Baron stated. “To be lord over The Territory that houses both the Star-Wing Corps and Cloud Keep... he has adopted the worst traits of both communities.”
“I have business with the Corps.”
Again, Quordion was silenced for a moment. He looked at Jocasta and started to speak twice before actually putting forth speech. “I should not be surprised. You certainly have the temperament for that group… but their lair lies in a well-protected region of the barony and to even approach that place, you’ll need the Baron’s permission.”
“No, I don’t,” Jocasta declared, “… but I can see how it might make things easier if one already has it. I have to say the gambit has piqued my interests, Baron,” Jocasta said, getting up from her seat. “I know that wasn’t your intention, and please, don’t feel bad about it. There’s no telling how I’ll come away from a conversation.
“You have a dedicated frequency for me, Quordion,” Jocasta said, making it clear the conversation was being brought to a close. “Give it to Thandace, and use it when you need it.”
“That hardly sounds like the way of a pirate,” Quordion joked.
Jocasta smiled as she shook her head once. “Don’t worry… for you, that help will come with a receipt! Starblazer out.” Jocasta walked around her desk and out of her Ready Room. She looked at her brace-com and pulled up the amount held in the crew’s new account. “Oh yeah. This should prove to be interesting!”
The multiple conversations made it impossible for anyone to know what all was being said, and Olreye lifted his hands in surrender, closing his eyes and turning his face away from the group. “Look, I’m just telling you what we heard,” he asserted. “The man said eight figures!” As the murmurs started once again, Olreye turned and pointed at Mel. “Tank, am I lying?!”
“No he’s not,” Mel confirmed. “That’s exactly what the Onyx Baron said to his sister.”
“And what did she say?” Agatha asked and Mel sighed; his hopes of not being brought too deeply into the conversation had been dashed and ground under boot.
“She said she was okay with it,” Siekor shared, patting Mel on the shoulder, “… as long as the first figure wasn’t a one.” Murmurs started in the ranks again as Siekor leaned over toward Mel. “Why didn’t you want to tell them?”
“You mean, why didn’t I want to get them wound up before we have an actual number?” Mel said with lifted brow. “No reason. No reason at all.”
“Uh, yeah
,” Siekor said as he straightened up, recognizing his faux pas. “Good point, Tank. You know, just between you and me, I don’t know why Boss put Shotgun in over you. Seems like a mistake from where I’m standing.”
“Looks the same from where I’m sitting,” Mel returned. “But what can you do?”
“Take it to the Captain!” Siekor insisted.
“Don’t you think that might be just a little too heavy-handed? Besides, this way I’ve got more time for my studies, so I guess, in a way, Llaz was just helping me out.”
“Hey, whatever gets you through it, man,” Siekor said, looking at his fellow crewmates start to share tales of what they would do with the kind of money he had mentioned.
“So says the Number Two gun on the ship,” Mel stated. “Trying to get in my head and hope it brings me off my game?”
“Now do you think I would do such a thing… after you said that?” The two laughed as Jocasta made her entrance into the Mess Hall. All voices fell silent as each crewman made their way to a chair.
“Why do I get the feeling I could get away with bloody murder right now if it meant giving you people the good news?” she smiled.
“Excuse me,” Thomasine said, standing up, wringing her hands together nervously. “Captain, you’ve delivered on everything you said you would, and I love how you keep this ship and your crew. But if you could please see your way to just telling us straight, I would certainly appreciate it.”
Jocasta smiled and nodded toward the young woman. She gestured for Thomasine to return to her chair and took another step forward, looking at Llaz. Though still very calm and cool, he was not as agreeable. In his eyes, Thomasine had crossed a line… there were many in Jocasta’s memory who would have agreed with him. Jocasta leaned toward him and spoke, “Do me a favor and let that one slide.”
“As you wish, Captain,” Llaz said, slowly blinking his eyes.
“And since you asked so nicely, after one helluva compliment, I will simply say you people have some talking to do. As of a few moments ago, the crew’s account received a deposit of thirty million cred! That means each of you just took in one and a quarter million baronial credits.” Jocasta noticed an immediate frown showing up on Llaz’ face.
“Excuse me, Captain, but that math doesn’t fly.”
“It works from here, Boss,” Jocasta said. “At the time of the job, we had a crew compliment of twenty-nine. Z left with five hands, leaving us with two dozen.”
Before the cheers could resume, Llaz moved to speak. “Crew is crew, Captain, whether they’re aboard or not. When we took the Prism Passion, there were a number of us that didn’t leave the ship at all. And since when does a haul made by the crew not include the Captain and the First Mate?!” Llaz inquired, gesturing toward Jocasta.
“Whoa!” Mel realized. “Captain, you didn’t include yourself?!”
Olkin pushed back from the table, shaking his head, looking as if he had been more than merely agitated. “No, nuh uh… that’s not happening!”
Olreye stood up to speak. “Hey, if the Captain wants to be gracious–”
“In the nicest way possible, Sonar, I’m asking you to please shut the hell up!” Pristacia said. “This is my first ship,” she admitted as she stood up, “so color me a newb, and yes, that’s with an E W and not a double-O B.”
“There’s a difference?” Agatha asked. Marlene quickly patted her arm as if to suggest she would explain it later. Pristacia only looked at the pilot for a moment before continuing.
“That is probably one of the most gracious gestures I’ve ever witnessed, Captain, and some of us are looking at those credits too damn hard.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” Cilrus asserted. “You show your face on the avenue and you’ll have credits lining up to take care of you!”
“It’s easy for all of us to say, CeCe,” Pristacia returned. “Look at where we are! Look at all we have! Captain, you say one and a quarter mill?” Pristacia continued, removing her weapons belt, tossing it to the middle of the table where she had been sitting. “Tank, put a price on that for me, please.” As eyes turned to look at Mel, Jocasta lowered hers to the floor.
“Bingo,” Jocasta thought. “I think I might just have a crew!”
Mel put his hand on the belt and tossed it back to his friend. “Princess, I wouldn’t even know where to begin. Dimensional pocket generation and maintenance as an effect of a machine?! It hasn’t been done… not that I’ve ever heard of. Anything like this in the Inner Rim, Siekor?”
“Oh yeah,” Siekor said quickly. He was leaning back in his chair with his arms folded when he turned to look at Mel. “You have to go to the better bookstores though. Vomisa’s fiction is only sold in print, and the paper is said to have psychotropic effects for anyone who touches them. But it’s good stuff!”
“How would you know if you’re high when you read it?!” Silnee asked.
“I used a glove,” Siekor explained. “Found out the hard way that the pages actually help you wrap your head around what he’s trying to say. Dimensional pockets? Outside of enchantments, I’ve heard about one the Empire uses to lock away casters they can’t handle. They say the facility’s lights dim just to open the door. That puts what we have, I would think, in the triple-digits of millions of credits. Of course, that’s just the belt alone. The holster recharges the gun. I’ve only seen that on powered armour… and the body armour is just… I could go on all day.
“Princess, serious point made!” Siekor declared, giving Pristacia a meaningful head nod. “The Captain has provided nothing but top-notch material to us. It’s the biggest reason why we were even able to do the job!”
“And of course, all of that would go a lot further if this were a democracy,” Llaz pointed out. “It’s not. The Captain will do with the money what she thinks is best.” Llaz led the applause, but it was not long before everyone joined in the clapping. Jocasta could see those who were clapping in earnest, a couple who did not want to be seen not clapping, and a few she was not sure what to think. She smiled at Llaz and held up her hand to silence the crowd.
“Okay, if that’s the way you guys want it, fine. I’ve got some personal business at our next stop and to be honest, I can’t say how long it is going to take. Boss, you are already aware that every member of this crew has a personal account, even if they were not aware of that until this very moment. Kindly see to it that each hand receives a quarter-million credits. That’s seven million out of the thirty. Take half of the remainder and put it in the ship’s account, the other half will go to the Discretionary Fund.”
“The what?” Mel asked, and he was not the only one who seemed to be confused.
“Z’s budget,” Jocasta clarified and everyone nodded. “We’re headed to the Pearl Barony, which I am told can be a challenging place for outsiders. Once we arrive, we will have ourselves a celebratory feast and a four-day stay in a place we won’t mind laying our heads down at night.”
“I’ll see what they have in the way of estates,” Llaz said.
“Lessons learned,” Jocasta agreed. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be at the helm, getting us underway.” Jocasta turned to take her leave when Hansel jumped up, holding up his hand.
“Uh, Captain!” he called as she rushed around Silnee and Olkin. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
“If you can walk and talk at the same time,” she replied without stopping. Hansel motioned to Xaedra, but she was not looking at him. She had barely heard anything of what had been said. Her mind, and subsequently her eyes, had been locked on one thing since she had walked into the room.
Xaedra thought she had met everyone, but obviously one very important person had been left out of the introduction process. He was so reserved and quiet, but his aura was not. He had attended the gathering, but it was clear he was not interested in money, which was a unique characteristic amongst Terrans. The moment everyone had been given permission to leave, he rose from his chair and walked toward the galley. Xaedra watched as
the young man started to speak with Roc.
“Xaedra,” Hansel said, shaking her shoulder.
“What?!” she snapped, agitated at the interruption. “What is it, Hansel?!”
“You said you wanted to talk to the Captain about getting to NayFall,” he reminded her.
“Why would I want to go to NayFall?” she said, looking back at the young man as Roc walked by his slender frame, patting him on the back.
“What can I get for you, Bantar?” the large cook asked as the young man staggered forward from the clapping he had received.
“A new shoulder,” he jested, rubbing where the cook had touched him. “Actually, I was wondering if you had been able to carve out enough time to brew the tea.”
“Finished it this morning,” Roc replied. “According to the recipe, I’m not to remove it from the stove for another hour.”
“Right!” Bantar replied, remembering that the brew needed to set for a very long time before it could be served. “Seven hours. I forgot about that. Thanks for… you know…”
“It was my pleasure,” Roc smiled as he donned his apron. “Something of a challenge actually. I had fun nailing it down. And I was sure not to add the recipe to the database.”
“Oh. Wow. Thanks again, then,” Bantar said, surprised at the unexpected discretion the ship’s cook had applied. “I guess I can come back in about an hour.”
“I can bring it to you,” Xaedra volunteered. She was unaware of how loudly she had spoken. “Hello,” she said as Bantar turned to face her. “I’m Xaedra.”
“That’s not all she is!” Feldspar muttered. He and Olreye started to laugh when Llaz stepped up behind them.
“You are so right,” he said in agreement. “She’s lingering around… because she’s not crew! She doesn’t have a job to do… unlike all of the rest of us!”
“Yes, Boss,” Olreye replied before walking quickly for the door.