The Empire's Corps: Book 05 - The Outcast

by Christopher Nuttall

  “The Grand Senate claims that the Empire is as strong as ever. I doubt it very much.”

  Sameena nodded. That fitted with her own observations.

  “I miss the brotherhood,” Paddy admitted. “I like Brad and Steve and James, but they haven’t been where I’ve been. The Captain ... had a different kind of experience. But I don’t miss cracking skulls for the glory of the Grand Senate. I suppose I could join a mercenary band, but I’d just end up fighting for the highest bidder.”

  He gave her a long considering look. “Have you been having nightmares?”

  “Some,” Sameena said. They’d changed after the hijacking. One recurring nightmare had had her drifting out into space instead of making it to the second airlock. “But Jayne said that they might have been caused by the drugs.”

  “They might,” Paddy agreed. “But then again they might be caused by your inner conflict. I sometimes have nightmares too.”

  “There isn't a Marine alive who would place any faith in the headshrinkers,” he added, “but if killing them is really bothering you I’d suggest talking to Doctor Maritz on Madagascar. She does have her head screwed on properly, unlike most civilian doctors. And she won’t bombard you with psychobabble.”

  “Thank you,” Sameena said. She’d never heard Paddy talk about his past before, not even when he’d been helping her with her studies. “If you hadn't taught me how to shoot ...”

  “We’re going to start self-defence too,” Paddy said. “Jayne or Ethne would probably be better at teaching you – you need to fight like a bitch, not a girl.”

  “I don’t understand,” Sameena admitted.

  “You’re slight,” Paddy said. He pulled back his sleeve to reveal a muscular arm. “If you tried to fight me directly, I’d beat you easily. You need to learn how to fight dirty. Carry a knife and a few other concealed weapons at all times and suchlike. It’s a dirty little secret that, on average, a man can always beat a woman if she fights fair.”

  “That isn’t fair,” Sameena observed.

  “Quite,” Paddy agreed. “But a knee in the groin will give the average man something else to think about other than trying to get his grubby little paws on you.”

  He turned back to the cupboard and started to pull out ration bars. “For the refugees,” he said, changing the subject. “You can take them in; I’ll wait outside, stunner in hand.”

  Sameena nodded. After the attempted hijacking, the remaining refugees had been locked in the hold. It wouldn't be very comfortable, but the alternative was returning them to the planet, where they would probably be killed or sold into slavery. She picked up the tray of ration bars – at least the Captain had allowed them to have a water processor in the hold – and carried it down towards the hatch. Paddy picked up his stunner and followed her.

  The hatch hissed open. Sameena winced as the smell struck her – Steve had rigged up a makeshift toilet, but the refugees were all unwashed and would remain so until they reached Madagascar – yet somehow managed to step inside. The refugee women looked almost listless; their children didn't seem much better. After everything they’d been through, Sameena couldn't blame them for breaking down.

  She looked for Lamina – their spokeswoman – and nodded to her. Lamina wasn't more than a couple of years older than Sameena herself, but she looked almost thirty. Her whole bearing spoke of a woman who had been beaten down by life. She reminded Sameena of some of the older women she had known on Jannah, women who had been forced into unwelcome marriages. None of the others were much better.

  “We need to talk,” she said, quietly.

  Jayne had carried out a full medical examination of the refugees – with Paddy and James standing guard – and what she’d found had shocked everyone. The children had been quite badly abused, but their mothers had been beaten and raped by the hijackers, just to make sure that they were too terrified to betray the hijackers to the Imperial Navy. Their husbands had vanished somewhere in the chaos sweeping over the planet. That, Ethne had said, was reason enough to ship them to Madagascar. At least they’d have a chance to build a new life there.

  “You’re going to be dropped off at Madagascar,” she continued. “What are you going to do with yourselves there?”

  Lamina looked blank. She’d been too badly beaten and abused to harbour the notion that there might be a future for her and her children. Sameena suspected she knew what would happen when they arrived on the asteroid. They’d be swept up into prostitution before they could find their footing. The kids might join them in the brothels before too long; the oldest girls were already pushing thirteen. It was a sickening thought.

  “Your children need education,” Sameena said. It was their only hope for a better life. “I would be willing to fund their scholarships, in exchange for a decade of service after they become qualified engineers.”

  She’d consulted with Steve and Ethne before making the offer. They’d checked her calculations and agreed that she had enough money to start the kids down the path towards becoming engineers, assuming that they had the aptitude. Once they started selling Firewater Mead, it shouldn't be too difficult to keep them in training ... Steve had pointed out, rather dryly, that a half-trained engineer should still be able to find work. He’d even expressed interest in helping to fund the scheme.

  “I don’t want a ship of my own,” he’d explained, when she asked. “But do you think that there would ever be a payoff?”

  “You have to spend money in order to make money,” Sameena had countered, quoting one of her father’s favourite sayings. Apparently, the saying predated the Empire. “And some payoffs don’t come in credits.”

  She watched Lamina carefully as she explained what she had in mind. If Lamina agreed, the other women would certainly do as she said ... but just how far gone was she? Even Jannah, for all of its belief that women were incapable of handling their own affairs, wouldn't have tolerated such abuse. Or would it? What woman in her right mind would go to the Guardians with a complaint against her husband? How could she even leave the house without a male escort?

  “It sounds very tempting,” Lamina said, finally. “And what of us?”

  The women, Sameena thought. What could they do, besides prostitution? She was damned if she was going to force anyone into a brothel. From what she’d heard Steve and James say, when they’d thought she couldn't hear them, they would be awful places for a woman. The women had no qualifications the Empire might recognise ...

  A thought struck her and she smiled. “Can you cook?”

  “Of course,” Lamina said. She sounded almost offended. “I wouldn't have trusted my husband to boil water.”

  “I can probably give you a loan to open an eatery on Madagascar,” Sameena said, slowly. It wasn't something she had planned to do, but it might come in handy later. Besides, from what she’d seen, the inhabitants of Madagascar would be happy to try a new kind of food. “The four of you could make it work.”

  Lamina eyed her, suspiciously. “And you will claim the profits?”

  “You can pay me back slowly,” Sameena said. “I haven’t worked out the details yet, but you would be able to keep most of the profits for yourself and provide a place for your kids to live.”

  She smiled at the thought. The kids would probably end up working in the kitchens or serving tables, just as similar kids had done on Jannah. It would help to cut costs ... later, when they were qualified engineers, their mothers would be able to hire additional help. Assuming the eatery was a success, of course. She'd have to look into renting space on the rock. It should be reasonably cheap, thankfully.

  The women held a brief, whispered consultation in their own language. Sameena looked over at the kids, wondering how many of them spoke Imperial Standard; they’d have to learn before they tried to join one of the educational programs. The Empire insisted that the entire population should be able to speak Imperial Standard, but there were plenty of worlds that only paid lip service to the concept. It was funny she’d nev
er realised how that crippled opportunities off-world before.

  But I never even imagined leaving Jannah until I had to run, she thought. How many of these women expected to leave their homeworld too?

  Lamina looked over at her. “We accept your offer,” she said. “Do you have a contract for us to sign?”

  Sameena blinked in surprise. “I will have to write one out for the eatery,” she said. “It might be better to do that on Madagascar, so we know the prices.”

  “Thank you,” Lamina said. She hesitated. “Is there any way the kids could get some exercise?”

  “I’ll discuss it with the Captain,” Sameena promised. He would be reluctant after the attempted hijacking, she knew. But maybe the kids could use the exercise machines under strict supervision. “We’ll get you to Madagascar as quickly as we can.”

  She left the hold and nodded to Paddy. “That took longer than I had expected,” she admitted. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

  “It could be worse,” Paddy said, dryly. He checked that the hatch was locked, then led the way back up to the bridge. “Captain wants to leave the system as quickly as possible.”

  “I don’t blame him,” Sameena said. After the hijacking, she was mildly surprised that they'd stayed in the system long enough to collect their reward from the Imperial Navy. There was nothing holding them from leaving. “I want to leave too.”

  Paddy snorted. “A very good idea,” he said. “If we’re lucky, we won’t ever have to come back here.”

  He snorted again, then smiled. “And you’re going to go back to your studies,” he added. “Hijacking or not, you don’t want to fail your assessments or people will point and laugh at you.”

  Sameena scowled. After the excitement of the hijacking, it would be hard to go back to her education ... but there was no choice. She would have to arrange something for the refugee children as well, something that would help them prepare for their own studies. Perhaps she could convince Ethne to let her bring a few of the older children to the schoolroom. It was a shame they didn’t have a real teacher ...

  Or maybe not, she thought, remembering some of the horror stories she’d heard. The Empire’s educational system seemed designed to turn out drones, rather than people who could actually think. Ethne had told her that she would rather spend hours slaving over an assignment from Professor Sorrel than spend a day in a standard classroom. Discipline was non-existent, the curriculum was designed more for political correctness than actual learning and the kids were exposed to drugs, electronic stimulation and other addictions that tore them away from their studies. And teachers often poked their noses into their children’s personal lives – or those of their parents. No wonder the trader clans preferred to have as little to do with the formal educational system as possible.

  “I’ll get back to work,” she promised. Besides, the assignments were fascinating. It was certainly better than endless religious studies, where she’d learned to recite by rote, without any real comprehension. “And we also have to prepare more mead.”

  “Make sure you do,” Paddy said. “But be careful. The cartel isn't the only organisation that might take an interest in someone else distributing Firewater Mead.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  As society became more developed – a result of the creation of national monetary standards, however imprecise – the economy developed alongside it. Workers would work for others and be paid wages, which in turn they would use to buy products ... allowing the sellers of those products to keep the money moving themselves. This led to a steady rise in the economy; the more people who were employed, the more people who could be employed, as the first group would help fund the second group. And the money kept going round and round.

  - Professor Leo Caesius. The Science That Isn’t: Economics and the Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire.

  The flight back to Madagascar was uneventful, much to the entire crew’s relief. Sameena spent most of her time working on her studies, completing all but one of the assignments before Logan dropped back into normal space and headed in towards the asteroid. The remainder was spent with the refugee children, who proved eager to learn, and keeping up with her duties on the freighter. They never seemed to come to an end.

  “You know,” Ethne said, after they docked, “I should ban you from going to Madagascar.”

  Sameena winced. She hadn't completed her final assignment. This time, she had been looking forward to visiting the asteroid, even if it was still a discomforting environment. She had to organise care and feeding – and schooling – for the refugees, start selling Firewater Mead and then starting her long-term plan. But Ethne wasn't likely to bend the rules for her again, not when the kids would complain about the unfairness of it all. They'd completed all of their assignments.

  “I know,” she admitted, finally.

  “But you do have to visit Professor Sorrel,” Ethne added. “You can do that, then attend your dinner date and ...”

  Sameena blinked. “Dinner date?”

  Ethne smirked at her. “Lieutenant Cook didn't give you his card because he thought you might like it,” she pointed out. “Besides, you have to hand over the datachip we were asked to take back for him. Drop him a message; ask if he wants to meet up with you this evening. And go somewhere nice.”

  “Oh,” Sameena said.

  The thought was terrifying. It had been hard enough to convince herself that the crew were her adopted family. Going to meet a complete stranger for dinner ... it wasn't something she’d ever considered doing on Jannah. And she'd skimmed a couple of romance movies from the ship’s database, all of which seemed to end up with the happy couple in bed together. What if Lieutenant Cook wanted to do that?

  “I think you will discover that most of those movies are exaggerated,” Ethne said dryly, when Sameena confessed her fears. “I’m sure he’s interested in you, but he probably won’t push if you want to take things slowly. There’s no obligation to go any further than you want to with him.”

  She scowled. “Do you need the talk about the birds and the bees?”

  Sameena flushed. She’d known almost nothing about sex while she’d been on Jannah, apart from a blanket statement that having it before marriage – or outside marriage – was bad and would certainly lead to eternal hellfire. Or at least punishment from the Guardians. It had puzzled her at the time because she’d wondered how she was supposed to avoid it without knowing what it actually was, but the one time she’d asked her mother had resulted in a slap and left her with the definite impression that there were some questions better left unasked.

  “I watched some of the movies,” she admitted, finally. She did have a rough idea of the mechanics now, although some of the women had sounded as though they were in pain rather than enjoying themselves. “Are they ... real?”

  “I shall have to have words with the boys,” Ethne muttered, darkly. “And we’ll talk about it later. For now, just don’t do anything beyond kissing – if he wants to kiss you. We can ask Paddy and Jayne to go to the same place if you want someone friendly nearby.”

  She headed off, leaving Sameena to access the datanet and send a brief message to Lieutenant Cook. It was nearly an hour before a reply came back, inviting her to join him for dinner at an expensive restaurant on Madagascar that evening. Sameena checked its site on the datanet, winced inwardly at how many dishes it served that included pork, then decided that she could eat the fish if nothing else. She had never even seen pork until she’d visited Madagascar for the first time, but that hadn't stopped the Guardians claiming that off-worlders ate pork all the time.

  I suppose a stopped clock is right twice a day, she thought, as she picked up a datachip containing her assignments and walked down to the schoolroom, where Steve was preparing to take the kids onto the asteroid. Ethne snapped at them the moment they started to complain that Sameena was joining them, pointing out that she was just going to visit her tutor and then going back to the ship. The kids still looked irked,
but cheered up when Steve pointed out that Sameena wouldn't be doing any shopping. That was a fixed reward for completing one’s assignments.

  “You can finish it this evening,” Richard said. His tone was so pompous that Sameena had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. “And then you can spend the rest of the week on the asteroid.”

  “She’ll be working tomorrow,” Ethne said, crossly. “Steve, make sure they have a good time, but get them back to the ship before 2000. They have an early bedtime.”

  She looked over at Sameena. “Come with me,” she said. “Professor Sorrel is waiting for you.”

  Sameena hid her amusement as she followed Ethne through the airlock and up towards Professor Sorrel’s office. Madagascar was as alien – as discomforting – as ever, leaving her wondering how the refugees would fit in. She didn't like shopping, even with Jayne; forbidding her from going into the asteroid on her own wasn't much of a punishment. But then, a few more weeks cooped up inside the freighter and she might have a different attitude.

  “I spoke to a friend in the maintenance crew,” Ethne said. “The refugees will be given basic quarters and food until they find their feet.”

  “Thank you,” Sameena said. One of the advantages of an asteroid settlement was that no one ever starved to death, even if they did become heartily sick of algae-based food. She'd checked and discovered that it was made to taste awful deliberately in the hopes of convincing the eaters to eat something – anything – else. “And their scholarships?”

  Ethne smiled. “I really should charge you a consultancy fee,” she said, dryly. “A consultant is working on drawing up contracts now. They’ll have their eatery and the kids will have their shot at gaining a proper education. And you will have some very loyal allies.”

  She gave Sameena a long look. “What do you have in mind?”

  “It depends on how much money we draw in from the Firewater Mead sales,” Sameena admitted. “Can I tell you when we find out?”