The Outpost

by JP Raymond

  Her scan did not detect an Elohiman aboard, which meant the senator’s daughter was not with them. But Gwen didn’t think that invalidated her hunch. It would be exceedingly dangerous to bring their prisoner to The Outpost. Any number of things could go wrong, including an escape or losing her to a superior criminal gang. Additionally, a Lankwin-class freighter was best operated with a crew of ten. There were only four people in that shuttle, so it stood to reason, the rest of the terrorists were back on Cataan’s Claw with the senator’s daughter.

  All the evidence was circumstantial. Gwen didn’t have a single piece of hard data to confirm her suspicions.

  But she was convinced she was right. This ship was from Cataan’s Claw. They were here to repair their hyperdrive.

  It was time to go in for a closer look. She waited for the shuttle to dock. Then she keyed her engines, left her hiding place, and made her way towards Sigba Station.

  JaQuan stood in front of the lander and flicked his gaze around the docking bay. A few dozen individuals moved about, tending ships, carrying goods, and chatting. There was not a human among them. Most were Mandra, but there were several Graur and a few Elohim. JaQuan looked up at the control center. No humans were visible through the glass.

  Worse, as soon as JaQuan and Alan stepped off the ship, everyone stared.

  Mistrust and suspicion assaulted them like rain driven by hurricane-force winds. JaQuan swallowed hard, his heart racing and old fears rising from his stomach.

  “Oh, shit,” Alan whispered, his cocoa-colored skin turning several shades lighter.

  “Yeah,” JaQuan said, “kind of like stumbling into a country bar in the South on a Saturday night.”

  “Uh-huh,” Alan said.

  Rorgun disembarked and stood next to JaQuan.

  “You three get the supplies Kitekh wanted,” he said. “I’m going to see if I can find someone who knows where we can acquire a crystal.”

  JaQuan turned and looked at him. The first mate’s face showed no recognition of what was happening.

  “Okay,” JaQuan said, making his unease plain.

  Rorgun took no notice. He nodded once and set off across the landing bay. Rischa came down the gangplank.

  “Everything’s secured and powered down,” she said. “Where’s Rorgun?”

  “He went to find someone to sell us the crystal,” JaQuan answered. “We’re supposed to get the rest of the stuff.”

  “Okay then; let’s go.”

  “Better lock up the lander nice and tight,” JaQuan said. “I don’t think our kind is too welcome around here.”

  Rischa looked confused. She cocked her head.

  “What kind is that?” she asked.

  “Human,” Alan answered.

  Rischa looked further confused. JaQuan indicated the landing bay with a quick nod of his head. Rischa looked around. Surprise followed by understanding ran across her face.

  “Right,” she said.

  She pulled a remote from a pocket on her belt and touched a control. The gangplank of the lander went up like a drawbridge and closed quickly. With another tap to the device, JaQuan heard the locks engage and the airlocks seal. Rischa tapped one more control on her remote. A brief flash from the ship’s skin indicated she had activated the deflector screens.

  “That ought to discourage anyone from breaking in,” she said. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Alan sighed heavily. JaQuan shared the sentiment. The three of them set off across the deck in search of the market.

  Gwen gritted her teeth as the gargantuan Mandran in the control room crossed his arms and stared at her impassively. He was taller sitting than Gwen was standing, and he looked to be twice as wide. The Mandra were a large species, but this one was much bigger than average for his race. His dark eyes were nearly invisible against his coal-black hide, which caused his white horns to gleam all the brighter in contrast. He sat there immovable, like a wall there was no going around.

  “Look,” Gwen said, “I’m ordering you on my authority as a Space Ranger to give me the information I want on that shuttle.”

  He continued to stare silently, his face giving away no emotion whatsoever. Gwen held his gaze tightly, refusing to back down.

  “I’ve never heard of a human Space Ranger,” he said at last.

  “Well, now you have,” she retorted.

  Several snickers escaped from the Mandran’s fellow control operators. Two more Mandra, two Graur, and an Elohiman watched with amusement to see what their colleague would do.

  “No, ma’am,” the big Mandran said. “In all my years, I’ve never seen a human Space Ranger.”

  “I have heard they apply to the Academy,” the Elohiman said. “But they are not good enough to graduate.”

  Gwen smiled unpleasantly. She cast her gaze around the room, drank in the open hostility. After a moment, she reached for her belt and drew out her ID badge. She held it out in front of her like a weapon.

  “I’m the first,” she said. “Here’s the proof.”

  The enormous Mandran didn’t bother to look at it. He kept his gaze locked on Gwen’s face. His mouth curled up in a subtle snarl.

  “Well, maybe since you’re so new, you don’t know how it works here,” he said. “The only law that goes around here is the administrator’s will. So why don’t you put away your fancy badge, turn your ugly, arsolian ass around, get back on your ship, and fly off to somewhere that gives three tinks for the Space Rangers.”

  Rage exploded in Gwen’s heart. He used arsolian – the Mandran slur for humans? She should use her beamer as a castration tool on this asshole. She’d had to put up with this same kind of shit back on Earth in the Marines. Some over-sized man thought he could bully her around and fuck with her because she was a woman. Or because she was black. Or both.

  She put her badge back in its holster and stood up straight. Then she crossed her arms, mirroring her antagonist.

  “Listen, I get it,” she said. “The dangers of the Horari Belt make it impossible for the Empire to come out here and enforce the law. You’re nice and secluded in here, so Imperial ships can’t fuck with you.

  “But the thing is, my scout ship had no trouble making it here. And if a lowly human like me can pilot her ship through the belt and get here, then so can any other Ranger. I could turn my ass around, get back on my ship, and come back with ten more. Or maybe a hundred more.

  “And then we could demonstrate that the administrator’s will isn’t actually the only law that goes around here by turning your sweet, little operation into one more dead rock in The Belt.”

  The Mandran’s jaw twitched, but he otherwise showed no reaction to her threat. Behind him, one of the Graur got to his feet and took one menacing step forward.

  “Maybe I should escort you back to your ship, Ranger Gwen,” he said. “Maybe I should take you back to it one piece at a time.”

  Gwen took a step back, squared her shoulders and let her left hand fall to the butt of her pistol. She raised her eyebrows.

  “You could do that,” she said. “Funny thing, though. Despite being human, I graduated at the top of my class for marksmanship. My instructors said they’d never seen anyone shoot as straight with as many distractions. One time, on a bet, I disarmed a classmate by shooting his weapon off his hip. I fried the holster off the belt and barely left a mark on his thigh.

  “So, yeah, you could leap over here and tear me into pieces. But I think it would be awfully embarrassing to spend the rest of your life explaining to the ladies how a human burned off your balls with a beamer before you could kill her.”

  The Graur’s yellow eyes popped open wide. Unable to resist, he dropped his gaze to his crotch.

  Gwen smiled. No matter the species, men considered their sex organ their most prized and important possession.

  “Listen, I don’t want to fuck with you guys,” she said, softening her tone. “That’s not why I’m here. I’m after some bad people. I’m after Manifest Destiny. I think that shuttle may b
e connected to an act of terrorism I’m investigating. I just need to know a few details. Then I’m out of here.”

  Dropping the name of Manifest Destiny had the effect she’d been hoping for. Belligerence turned to interest. Bravado became curiosity. The operators all looked at each other. She could smell their loathing for human terrorists. She’d been betting anyone using a racial slur for humans would be willing to sell out Manifest Destiny in a heartbeat.

  “There were two humans on that shuttle,” Gwen went on. “Based on what I’ve seen since arriving, you don’t get many of those here.”

  “There were also two Graur on that ship,” said the one who’d threatened her.

  “Everyone makes mistakes in choosing their company from time to time,” Gwen said. “For all I know, the Graur don’t know anything about what their companions are up to.”

  “And if they do, they deserve to die alongside them,” said the Elohiman.

  The Graur shot him a glare, but he just blinked, wordlessly defying them to challenge him.

  “Listen, Ranger Gwen,” the big Mandran said. “It’s against station policy to inform the police about anything a client might be doing.

  “It’s also against station policy for anyone to bring the law after them. If the Space Rangers or the Empire come looking for you, you’re on your own. So if you want to conduct an investigation to bring these arsolian terrorists in, feel free. But you stay the hell away from all other business here. Do you understand?”

  Gwen smiled. Cooperation at last.

  “Perfectly,” she said. “Did they say why they were here?”

  “They said they came to resupply,” the Mandran said. “They brought mining equipment to trade.”

  “Equipment to trade?” Gwen said arching an eyebrow. “What the hell kind of supplies would they need that they’d have to trade something that big?”

  “They did not say,” he replied. “I did not ask.”

  Gwen nodded. This wasn’t her first gig as a cop. She’d been one back on Earth after the Marines, and she’d been aboard the Santa Maria as security personnel. If there was anything she knew about these kinds of illegal merchants, it was that you didn’t ask too many questions.

  “Any idea where they are now?” she asked.

  “No, but aside from you, they are the only humans aboard the station. They shouldn’t be hard to find.”

  She nodded again. She had some ideas about how to find them, especially since they were the only two humans aboard.

  “One last question,” she said. “That’s a cargo shuttle, they came in on. They couldn’t have gotten all the way out here in that. They must have a bigger ship out there somewhere – a freighter maybe. Did they mention what ship they came from?”

  “Of course,” the Mandran replied. “We do not allow anyone to dock without knowing who they are. It wouldn’t be safe. After all, the Space Rangers might be looking for them.”

  Gwen smiled. He was definitely cooperating now.

  “What’s the name of their ship?” she asked.

  “Cataan’s Claw.”

  Bingo.

  JaQuan rubbed his head wearily as they made it back to the ship. He hadn’t shaved it for two days, and the light fuzz offered a pleasing, tactile sensation. It was the only pleasant thing on this miserable trip.

  “Did you see the look that wiring merchant gave me?” Alan said, still shocked. JaQuan nodded. “I thought he was gonna tear my throat out just for standing there. Good thing you were there, Rischa.”

  She grunted in disgust. The Graur merchant had looked on her as though she had an offensive disease when she’d made it clear she was with the two humans. JaQuan was pretty sure things might have gotten violent if she hadn’t.

  “Unfortunately, not everyone has as enlightened a view of humans,” Rischa commented.

  “Yeah, but I thought the Graur were good with us,” Alan said.

  “A whole race doesn’t think alike,” JaQuan said. “Look at us.”

  “Good point,” Alan admitted.

  “That merchant and those like him are a disgrace to my people,” Rischa said.

  She stopped cold a second later. The ship was open.

  “Do you see Rorgun?” JaQuan asked, alarm rising quickly in his heart.

  She flicked her gaze around the landing bay. JaQuan looked too. Rorgun was nowhere in sight.

  “No,” Rischa replied.

  “Maybe he’s aboard,” Alan said.

  “Maybe,” JaQuan said. He drew his beamer. “But maybe we should plan like he isn’t.”

  Alan gulped. He pulled his electroray gun from its holster and nodded.

  They approached the lander cautiously. When they reached it, they set down the equipment they’d been carrying.

  “Let me go first,” Rischa said.

  She didn’t wait for anyone to argue. With a quick look up the gangway, she crouched low and skulked into the ship. JaQuan went after her, ready to shoot at the first sign of trouble.

  Inside, they heard talking coming from the cargo hold. Rischa looked back and nodded towards the sounds. JaQuan turned and put a finger to his lips to make sure Alan stayed quiet. On Rischa’s signal, they stole silently towards the hold.

  There, they found Rorgun chatting with another Graur. She had grey tabby fur and several scars. They both turned towards Rischa.

  “Ah, there you are,” Rorgun said. “I was beginning to worry.”

  “Who’s this?” Rischa asked.

  “Urschen Gadaar,” the other Graur said. “You must be Rischa.”

  “Yes,” Rischa said, an edge of mistrust in her voice.

  “And two humans,” Gadaar said. “You’ve been keeping curious company since last I saw you, Rorgun.”

  Alarm bells started ringing in JaQuan’s mind. Rorgun knew this woman? And she didn’t like humans? What exactly was the nature of Rorgun’s relationship with her?

  “They’re part of my crew,” Rorgun said. “This is JaQuan Jones, our pilot, and Alan Park, one of our deckhands.”

  Gadaar studied JaQuan and Alan carefully. Her green-eyed gaze crawled over them, sizing them up. JaQuan’s unease grew.

  “I’m not sure Mutakh will like this,” she commented.

  “They’re with me, Urschen,” Rorgun said. “That should be good enough for His Eminence.”

  “Wait,” Rischa said. “Mutakh Kairee?”

  “Who’s Mutakh Kairee?” JaQuan said.

  “Well, I’m not taking them anywhere until they put their weapons away,” Gadaar said, ignoring both questions.

  “God damn it, Rorgun!” Rischa shouted. “You’ve involved us with the Kwin Faan?”

  “Wait, what?” JaQuan said.

  “Are you crazy?” Rischa said.

  “What the hell is going on?” Alan said.

  “No, I am not crazy!” Rorgun snapped. His eyes turned fierce, and his lips curled in a snarl. “We need a Myollnar Crystal. We have come to the most dangerous place in the galaxy to get one. I therefore contacted an old friend who can help us.”

  “An old friend!” Rischa raged. “These people are rebels and fanatics!”

  Gadaar snorted in disgust. She shook her head.

  “‘Fanatics,’” she said. “We were right! For God’s sake, Rischa, you’re standing next to two specimens of the proof.”

  “All right, everyone shut the fuck up for a minute,” JaQuan said, waving his pistol. “Y’all may know what you’re talking about, but Alan and I don’t. Who the fuck is this Mutakh Kairee?”

  “Watch your mouth, human,” Gadaar growled.

  “He’s one of the principal leaders of the Kwin Faan,” Rischa said.

  “He’s the leader now,” Gadaar corrected. “The rest were killed in the Imperial massacre.”

  “Mutakh Kairee is Graur,” Rischa went on. “Prior to joining the so-called Keepers of Truth, he was a brilliant general. He led the Kwin Faan rebellion that attempted to depose Emperor Acquineen.”

  JaQuan felt as though he�
�d been punched in the gut. Twice. What the hell had they stumbled into? First, Brody involved them in a Manifest Destiny kidnapping of a senator’s daughter. Now, Rorgun was trying to fix that by teaming up with a broken rebellion?

  “Jesus Christ, Rorgun,” he said. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I’m solving our problem,” Rorgun said. “We need a Myollnar Crystal. Mutakh can surely get us one. Because I know him, he will sell to us. Given that we are in just about the most dangerous place in the Empire, I elected to go to him because I trust him. Anyone else here, I don’t.

  “Now, I’ll remind the three of you that I am first mate on Cataan’s Claw and I’m in charge of this mission. I make the plans; I give the orders. So I suggest you all – What’s your human phrase? – get with the programming and do what I tell you.”

  “Program,” Alan said.

  “What?” Rorgun said, turning a furious gaze on him.

  “It’s ‘get with the program,’ not ‘programming,’” Alan said.

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Rischa still had a snarl locked on her lips, her muscles coiled and ready to spring. JaQuan had never seen her like this. Her face was a war of betrayal, anger, and astonishment.

  “Now, JaQuan, Alan, put your weapons away,” Rorgun ordered.

  Alan sighed heavily and holstered his pistol. JaQuan stared at Rorgun for several more seconds. He didn’t like this.

  “Tell me something,” he said as he put away his beamer. “You say you know Mutakh Kairee. He’s an old friend. You know him well enough to trust him. Does that mean you were in the Kwin Faan?”

  Gadaar grinned like a thief. Rischa’s expression turned as black as her fur.

  “Yes,” Rorgun said. “I was. I’m not anymore.”

  Gadaar chuckled. JaQuan tasted bile. He became increasingly convinced they were not going to make it off The Outpost alive.

  Gwen watched the terrorists from the comfortably safe distance of her command center. It had been easier than she’d expected to hack into the station’s security network and access its cameras. For a dangerous, outlaw hideout, their encryption wasn’t too complex. It had taken her software a little over an hour to crack it. Either The Outpost’s enigmatic administrator was careless about keeping unwanted eyes off his operations, or he figured he didn’t have to fear the Space Rangers breaking in since they never patrolled this part of the belt.