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

by Reiter

  “Military action?!” Jovasor barked. “I thought we were pirates, not soldiers!”

  “Stow it, Cole,” Amos said, grabbing the Lead Physician by the shoulder. “We are whatever the Captain says we are!”

  “Fill in the blanks, Princess,” Llaz directed.

  Pristacia stood up, hoping that the sight of her might ease the tension of the moment. Though she was more interested in the slight change of tone in Llaz’s voice between the first three to report and the request he had put to her, there was a more pressing matter. She needed to not only deliver information, but do so in a manner that might defuse the escalating situation.

  “While we were on the Haggenshire to fence a job and perform another, we mustn’t lose sight of the fact that we weren’t the only ones there for those reasons. The Field Marshal is involved with this, and he doesn’t come cheap. That means we’re dealing with someone with a lot of leverage, deep pockets, or both. Furthermore, the man doesn’t come cheap because he doesn’t miss. The Captain has not only made him miss, but she’s managed to scar the man and his establishment pretty badly. It isn’t outside the realm of reasonable to say that there may be another attempt on the Baron and his sister.”

  “And the Captain thinks we can hold off the Field Marshal?!” Obanyo asked.

  “Scamps!” Thomasine whispered, taking hold of his arm.

  “It’s a valid question, Thom,” Llaz remarked. “The Captain managed to do it in an evening gown, Scamps. Not to mention she didn’t have even ten percent of her normal firepower. You think the lot of us can equal up to a half-dressed JoJo?”

  “I suppose it depends on which half is dressed,” Obanyo replied. Everyone in the room laughed. Llaz noticed the withdrawal of Feldspar as he shifted his concern to what he had missed.

  “That sounds more like it,” Llaz said as he turned to look at Roc. “How long before we can get these people something warm and tasty?”

  “Z had me put the sear on some steaks before we left,” Roc replied. Backs around the room straightened. “I’ve also got dough ready to go into the oven. Steak sandwiches in a half hour.”

  “Sounds like plan, Roc. Mr. Siekor, get everyone on duty shifts after you’re done with class.”

  “You got it, Boss. Will you be attending that class, sir?”

  Llaz chuckled and he looked at Olkin who was already laughing. “You’re looking at one of the two original test dummies,” he explained, pointing at Olkin. “We already had our turn at that armour.”

  “Then I’m sure you and Cupid won’t mind taking the first shift,” Siekor said. The look on Llaz’s face made the laughter shift to everyone else in the room.

  “Fine, but I’m taking Tank and Silk with me,” Llaz replied. “I’m willing to risk their learning curve.”

  “You got it, Boss,” Siekor said with a bright smile.

  Everyone started to move out of the room and Llaz took inventory of their faces. He was not aiming at trying to please everyone. Even with the technology that had been made available to them, there were those who complained about the conditions as a member of JoJo Starblazer’s crew. But he could see a difference in their collective body language. At least now the crew knew they had a job to do. That was a good beginning.

  “Gotta admit though,” Llaz thought as Olkin approached, “I didn’t see that particular Field Marshal tie-in. I figured he would be coming after us, but Princess is right; he’s got more at stake with allowing the Baron to walk. That makes thing slightly stickier. We’ve never had to be careful before.”

  “How heavy is that crown right about now?” Olkin asked.

  “Pretty damn hefty.”

  “Trust the man though, right?” Mel asked.

  Llaz sighed, blowing air out of his mouth. “Especially when he’s trusting us!” A beep came from his brace-com and Llaz looked down to see the source of the transmission.

  “Speak of the blue man and he doth appear,” Mel commented.

  “This is Llaz, go ahead, Z.”

  “Boss, I suspect by now you have had an opportunity to address the concerns of the crew,” Dungias stated. “Given the sudden departure from the ship, I expect that some of the lesser-disciplined crewmen have stirred up some measure of concern.”

  “Nothing that couldn’t be handled, Z,” Llaz quickly replied.

  “Indeed. At this time, you are receiving a data file. I have designed four different plans to resolve the Field Marshal conflict. Feel free to choose from them and edit as you see fit.”

  “Does the First Mate have a preference?” Llaz asked as he verified the transfer.

  “Indeed I do, Mr. Llaz: the plan you decide to implement. After reviewing the logs on crew performance under your command, I will trust you to make the necessary adjustments to your chosen scenario. You are closest to the issue, and you will need that freedom in order to maximize efficiency. Good hunting, Boss.” The channel closed.

  Satithe took the stratagems she, CK, and Alpha had designed and delivered them to Llaz while their Master communed with the Stars. She then prepared a report, to be delivered to Dungias, detailing her duplicity in assuming his voice and station.

  “And you don’t have to look far to find reasons as to why we should trust him,” Llaz said. “Tank, I think I want you to review these… and make sure you have Feldspar help you out.”

  “Subtle,” Mel chuckled, “getting in an ‘I told you so’ without saying it!”

  Llaz started to smile with him, but his eyes were drawn to the files he had opened. The more he read the more his eyes widened. “Oh boy! Someone went and pissed off the Engineer!”

  Never let your head hang down. Never give up and sit down and grieve. Find another way. And don’t pray when it rains if you don’t pray when the sun shines.

  Richard M. Nixon

  (Rims Time: XII-4203.29)

  Her suite had been visited by the service staffs, both robotic and living personnel, as they were cued to do so upon each departure of the tenant. The robe had been picked up off the floor… again. The flowers were put into a new vase, but the staff had decided to use one made of metal this time. The mini-bar had once again been drained of rum, but every other sort of spirit remained. The floor manager had taken it upon himself to remove the vodka and replace it with rum after he refilled the normal rum slots.

  Fresh linen was put on the bed, and more wild guesses passed between the workers as to what could have happened for the sheets to travel so far away from the mattress when no one had visited the room other than its listed occupant.

  “The lady in question has reached this floor,” the robot vacuum sweeper reported. “Once again, it does not appear she is in the best of moods.”

  “Alright everyone,” the floor manager signaled. “We’re done here!” After giving a last swipe with the duster to the top of the nightstand, the floor manager placed a folded sheet of paper on the pillow. He ushered everyone to leave ahead of him and they were just around the corner of the corridor when Jocasta turned onto the hallway. Her strides were long and fast as she looked only at the floor. Taking out a handheld remote, she signaled for the doors to open so that she would not have to break stride. The doors closed behind her and the floor manager requested a repair and maintenance robot.

  The wall panel trembled from the impact of her fist. She hurt her hand, but that only made her madder. The door to her suite opened and Jocasta’s lips pressed together.

  “Not now, please,” she said trying not to sound the way she felt. “I am… a little busy.”

  “So, you’ve come here to sulk, have you?” Alistair Codges said as he walked in and leaned against the wall, feigning concern. “That’s really too bad.”

  “I’m sorry, did you just walk into my room… uninvited!?” Jocasta asked, holding out her hand. Her cane flew to her grasp and Alistair snapped his fingers. Two security robots walked into the room, past Codges, and turned to face the pirate. She slowly lifted her hands and dropped her cane as a smile stretched wide ac
ross Codges’ face. The doors closed and Jocasta looked at the man before she winked.

  “I know what you’re here for,” she said, placing her hands on her hips.

  “You think so, eh?” Codges asked in a soft tone. “Impress me!”

  “All the time, baby.” Jocasta’s hands flew forward. A flash bomb exploded in Codges’ chest as the throwing dagger was snatched out of the air by the robot closest to the blinded officer.

  “Commander Ravinguez, I cannot say enough how much I appreciate you taking time out of your schedule,” Dungias said as he walked alongside the woman.

  “Think nothing of it, Mr. Z’Gunok,” she replied, flashing another bright smile. “And there’s no need for the formality. I am Sarshata, or you can call me Swan.”

  “And I am Dungias,” he returned as they made another turn. “My Captain and her crew call me Z. I hope my arrival has not been too much of a disruption for your facilities.”

  “I have to admit… we’re not used to having someone literally drop in for visiting purposes. How is it that your vehicle was not picked up by our sensors?”

  “Let us allow that particular mystery to linger on a moment longer,” Dungias replied. “After all, it is not my secret to share.”

  “Of course, of course. I understand,” Sarshata said. “You’re the First Mate of the ship and loyal to your Captain. No one can fault you for that.”

  “My Captain’s interest in the Star-Wing Corps has been strong ever since we left from Black Gate,” Dungias shared. “Might I inquire as to her level of progress?”

  “Well, in the Ozone Trials, as we call them, an applicant must rate exemplary in four of our various forms of piloting. JoJo literally attacked the fighter-craft form,” Sarshata advised. “She managed to take down two of her opponent crafts before her ship registered the first legitimate hit.”

  “The tone in her voice,” Dungias noted. “She truly did not expect what Jocasta was able to do. Good!”

  “Even with a hampered vehicle, she took down the third and final instructor,” Sarshata continued, brushing back her long, black hair. “Considering that the requirement for passing is being able to register two solid hits, we had exceedingly high hopes for JoJo.”

  “You had hopes?”

  Sarshata placed her hand on Dungias’ arm as she spoke. “I’m sorry. Poorly chosen words. In all my time here I don’t think I’ve seen so much potential in one person. JoJo has had her fair share of–”

  The door to Jocasta’s room fell out into the corridor followed by Jocasta’s body as her back met with the floor. She kept her momentum and rolled backward.

  “Problems,” Dungias said softly, folding his arms as his eyes squinted. Her attacker came out of the room while she was still in mid-roll. He was an older Terran, apparently still very capable of combat. It was clear he had been trained in the classic soldier’s Hand-to-Hand Combat that had been mixed, over time, with basic Kung-Fu. His straight punch was fast and fierce, striking against Jocasta’s face. Her head snapped back under the power of the blow. The man pressed, and Dungias shook his head ‘no’.

  “You did not hit her as hard as you might think,” he thought as the man’s overhand hook was blocked. Jocasta landed a speedy three-punch combination to the sternum, neck, and jaw before hopping back and flashing a very irritating smile. “And now she has your speed.”

  “You little bitch,” Codges strained to speak.

  “Oh, is that what the wife calls it?” Jocasta fenced.

  Alistair huffed, moving forward with a front kick to the ribs. Jocasta doubled over as Dungias looked at the floor. Seizing the opportunity, Alistair exploded into a spinning outside crescent kick. Jocasta looked up in time to take a step forward and catch the man’s leg on her shoulder. She stood up to keep him off balance as an uppercut found his crotch. Alistair’s eyes flared wide as his body locked.

  “Well look at that,” Jocasta said through gritted teeth, “I’m a sharp-shooter after all!” She swept the man’s planted leg and the back of his head landed hard against the floor. Jocasta jumped up, landing in a straddling kneeling position as her fist drove down into the man’s face.

  “Oh my,” Sarshata whispered, watching the effect of the powerful blow.

  “You knock before you come into my room, asshole!” she yelled before getting up and running into her room. Both Sarshata and Dungias could hear Jocasta huffing and straining. “And don’t forget your friends!” Jocasta yelled, coming out of her room with the one-armed torso remains of a security robot hoisted over her head. She eyed the downed man and moved without hesitation.

  “Captain!” Dungias said sternly, bolting forward with the Star-Stride. Sarshata gasped at the sight of a bluish blur streaking over the top of Jocasta’s head, snatching the robot piece out of her hands. She stumbled a few steps from the pull of the robbing snatch. When she stopped moving, she was ready to fight whatever had interrupted her intended justice.

  “You!” Jocasta spat, glaring at Dungias before she recognized who it was standing in front of her in the middle of the corridor. She relaxed as she panted and waved Dungias off. “Oh… you!”

  “Aye, Captain… me,” Dungias said, looking at Jocasta who was still panting as she pointed at the robot.

  “Those things are freaking heavy!” she declared.

  “Security robots tend to be at least that, Captain,” Dungias said as he examined the fragment, flipped it over and gently put it down on its back. “It has something to do with the frame.”

  “P-tah!” Jocasta waved him off again, “… the blade didn’t have any problems.” Jocasta turned around to see Sarshata, and the pirate smiled brightly. “Commander Ravinguez! Hi, how are you?”

  “I am well, Candidate,” Sarshata replied. “Having some difficulty with Calamity?”

  “Oh, I think he’s still sore that I shot his ass out of the sky,” Jocasta replied.

  “How did I know that was about to fall from your lips?” Dungias whispered as he walked over to Codges. With one hand, he lifted the stunned man from the floor and threw him into the wall of the corridor. Codges came away from the wall swinging a wild hook. A finger thrust to the inside of the forearm made the man scream in pain. Dungias then took hold of the man’s neck and started to choke him.

  “Dungias!” Sarshata called out.

  “Did she say ‘Dungias’?” Jocasta whispered as her eyebrows climbed halfway up her forehead. “First name basis?! Or should I say bases?”

  “You will tap my arm three times as a sign that these hostilities are at an end,” Dungias directed. “You see, they will end by your hand or by mine!” Alistair struggled to remove the one-handed grip, but he was unable to get the Malgovi man to budge. His hand went to his side and he drew his blaster.

  “Oh, man,” Jocasta winced. “Bad career move!”

  “Codges!” Sarshata yelled just before the man pulled the trigger, firing an energy bolt into Dungias’ chest. The glow of the blast died without a burst of any sort and Dungias frowned, staring intently at the man as the strength of his grip increased. Alistair’s eyes bulged as he dropped his weapon and started tapping Dungias’ arm feverishly.

  “Three taps, if you please,” Dungias directed and he could hear Jocasta snickering as she leaned back against the wall. Beginning to lose the ability to move, Alistair slapped Dungias’ arm three times. He fell to his knees when Dungias released him. The Traveler looked up at Sarshata, a strong component of anger still etched on his face. “So, this is an officer in the Star-Wing Corps?!”

  “A former officer,” Sarshata argued.

  “So the Corps has only recently addresses its inefficiency!”

  “Uh, Z,” Jocasta said softly as her First Mate picked up Codges and flung him down the hallway. He landed right beside Sarshata and rolled past the woman.

  “I take it he is one of the problems to which you were referring,” Dungias pressed. “That one is resolved. I shall see to the others as expeditiously!” Dungias turned toward the
room and held out his hand, ushering Jocasta to walk ahead of him. “Captain.”

  “Right,” Jocasta said, standing up straight and turning. “I go this way.” The young woman walked into the room followed by her enraged friend, and Sarshata watched as the shattered door was lifted back into place and made solid.

  “I’ll say this much for you, Calamity,” Sarshata said, taking out her communicator. “When you make a wrong turn, you don’t pussyfoot about it.”

  “We already have robots en route, Commander,” the floor manager said as he emerged from his hiding place. “They will be here shortly.”

  “Then you don’t need me to remain,” Sarshata replied. She looked at the door before turning to take her leave. “Damn you, Codges. You have no idea how bad your timing is today!”

  Jocasta walked through the living room and into the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of green liquid refreshment, tossing a blue one over to Dungias.

  “Thank you, Captain, but I am not thirsty.”

  “Who gives a Kot about thirst?” she asked, opening her bottle. “I thought it would do wonders for your complexion.” Jocasta downed the liquid quickly without stopping and wiped her mouth when the bottle was empty. “Everything alright?” she asked as she went back into the bedroom to get another shirt. She could not help but notice the folded piece of paper propped up on top of the large pillow and quickly made her way to it. “Crew? Ship? You?!”

  “Most of the crew is at the Onyx Barony, lodged at an estate provided to them by the Baron himself,” Dungias reported.

  “Yeah, that Onyx Baron is a real class act,” Jocasta said as she unfolded the paper.

  JoJo (or should I call you Silverwing),

  They don’t tell me much around here, but they don’t need to. I see, hear, and feel more about what is going on here than most of them realize.