by M. D. Cooper
Tanis felt panic creep in as she studied the meager scan the escape pod was able to provide.
“Well, we’re close to a star, that’s something, and I’m picking up radio signals from it.”
“What is it, Angela?”
“Well that’s goo—. Wait, 58 not 82?” 58 Eridani was twenty-four light years further out than 82 Eridani, the star the colonists had named New Eden.
Twice as far from Sol as their original destination.
“I see something on scan, it looks like it might be a ship,” Tanis said, bringing up data and optical views. “Wait, this is wrong too, its ion trail shows antimatter and fusions drives, but the ship’s too small.”
“There it is, it came back…a lot closer, damn it’s gone again.”
Angela highlighted a point on the scan map.
“What the hell is going on?” Tanis almost yelled.
Her question was punctuated by a loud clang as something grappled the pod.
It was not often that Angela’s mental tone contained fear, but it certainly did now. Tanis was far from calm herself. Nothing made any sense, where was the Intrepid, how was 58 Eridani inhabited and how did a ship hop through space like this one had.
Optical cameras showed the pod being pulled into a small cargo bay and that was the last Tanis saw.
In the small bridge of the scout and salvage ship two men grinned at each other.
“Stasis field has the whole pod. This is going to be a good sell. That thing is from a colony ship, something called the Intrepid,” the first said. “I don’t have anything on scan, but judging by the tech on the pod she’s going to have some advanced tech.”
“Thank god, we can finally cover what we owe Padre and get free and clear,” replied the second.
“Well let’s get a move on, then.”
The pilot nodded before he activated his console and plotted a course.
“Engaging FTL drive.”
THANK YOU
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DESTINY LOST
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Read on for the appendixes and an excerpt from Destiny Lost.
An excerpt from book 4, Destiny Lost…
AN UNEXPECTED CARGO
STELLAR DATE: 4981760 / 06.31.8927 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Trio Prime Station
REGION: Trio System, Silstrand Combine
4,623 years after the Intrepid departed from the Kapteyn’s system.
Sera slammed the shooter down with a triumphant grin and watched through reddened eyes as the man from Thoria reached for his next glass. Around them crowds chanted their names and money changed hands. Her opponent downed his drink and tossed the glass onto the table where it rolled against the two-dozen empty shooters between them. With a wave of his hand and an unappealing grin, he indicated that the floor was hers.
The act of raising her arm to the table caused Sera to sway in her seat. She took a moment to steady herself and the Thorian’s grin grew wider as he watched her pause. Then, with slow determination, she picked up the next glass and threw it back without further hesitation. The alcohol washed down her throat like fire, her tongue feeling swollen in its wake. The stuff seemed to be getting more potent the further down the bottle they went. Setting the glass down, Sera gave the Thorian a steely look that she hoped appeared more confident than she felt.
In response her opponent raised his next shooter and attempted to down it with a flourish. In his current state the gesture failed miserably and the drink splashed across his face. His expression took on a look of confusion and his arms spun slowly as he slid sideways out of his chair to the floor. No one attempted to catch him and the man’s head hit the deck plate with a solid thunk.
Sera was declared the champion. Cheers and grumbles erupted around her as winners were paid out and losers tuned to the bar for another drink. In the midst of the post-contest exchange, one voice rose above the others.
“Cheater! She had to cheat, there’s no way that waif could drink him under the table!” The call came from a short, but well-built man in a dirty shipsuit. He pushed through the crowd to stand across the table from Sera. “You used nano to clear the alcohol from your bloodstream.”
Most people had some of the tiny nano-machines in their body, it was nearly impossible not to; they were almost as common as bacteria. A person’s nano was controlled by their internal computer or internal AI if they had the money or influence. Sera’s nano could clear her bloodstream with ease—though that wasn’t a fact she advertised. It took a lot of nano to filter that much booze over such a short period of time; a lot more than a simple freighter captain should have.
Sera worked her mouth for a moment, making sure it would respond the way she wanted it to. “I did not. Have the bartender do a check.” The words were slurred, but understandable.
Bartenders on Trio Prime Station were not allowed to let their patrons to get too drunk—an ordinance they rarely enforced. They had scanners on hand that could check blood-alcohol levels and determine, based on that persons size and metabolic rate, if they were too drunk to have another round.
The bartender had already stepped out into the crowd, eager to do whatever it took to avoid a fight on his shift. He pressed the scanner against Sera’s wrist and it took samples of her blood for the reading.
“She’s pissed.” He said as he straightened. “Consistent with the amount and time she’s been slugging them back.” Smirking, he turned back to the bar. “Those shooters are only a third of what she’s had to drink tonight.”
The winners cheered all the louder while the losers quieted their grumbling. Everyone knew that bartenders altered their scanners so they could give people more liquor than they should. If it said she was drunk, then she was really drunk.
Sera sent her internal AI a mental shrug. Trace didn’t like it when Sera drank; she claimed it upset the chemical balance in her body in a way that made the AI feel weird. Sera wasn’t sure how that was possible. Plus, she liked the feeling of chemical imbalance.
Trace could be annoying at times with her mothering, but Sera knew that her AI’s concern was genuine. Pulling her thoughts from the familiar debate, Sera looked around the bar.
To smooth things over, the winners were buying the losers a round. Sera had put a hundred SIL credits down on herself and collected three hundred back. The odds had been stacked nicely against her. Betting was illegal in the Silstrand Combine and this sort of thing was always done with cash. The restriction didn’t seem to diminish the illegal activity; it just meant no one had to pay taxes on their winnings. Sera thought about that for a minute. Maybe that’s why it was illegal; officials liked to gamble too.
Stuffing the hard money into an inside pocket on her leather jacket, she rose slowly; almost teetering over at the last moment. A
steady hand appeared under her elbow and Sera turned to see the dark, smiling face of Cargo.
“Good haul on that, Captain,” he guided her out of the bar and into the bustling main corridor of the station’s promenade. “I made a couple hundred credits on your drinking skill.”
“It’s good to be useful,” Sera slurred as Cargo led her from the bar toward a small coffee shop, which was renowned for its after-drunk-sober-up brew. Once inside, Sera ordered two of their strongest and let Cargo wait at the counter for the order. Her leather clothing squeaking nosily as she all but collapsed into a chair. Cursing the café’s bright lights she leaned back with a hand over her eyes praying for a power outage.
Cargo was her right hand man on Sabrina, the freighter that she owned and captained. Her other crew was likely back on the ship, securing things for tomorrow’s departure. Cargo knew she liked to get one last round in at a bar before they left a station—okay, maybe more than just a round. He often would find her and bring her back to the ship before she was too far gone.
Sera splayed her fingers and looked through them to see Cargo returning with an insufferable grin on his face. He had a coffee for himself and two of the sober-up drinks for her. He set them on the table and pushed them toward her, his smile widening.
“I bet those are going to taste horrible.”
Sera stuck her tongue out as she leaned forward to pick one up. “Prolly.”
“You should have let me know you were gonna get into another drinking competition,” Cargo said and took a drink of his own beverage. “I would have had more cash on hand to make a bigger bet.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t think to let you know so you could sate your gambling needs,” Sera gave her number two another sour look.
“My gambling habit doesn’t have the unpleasant side effects of your station drinking binges.”
Sera eyed him blearily over the rim of her cup. “What side effects are those?”
“The first day of any trip; you’re not exactly sunshine and roses the day after a binge.”
“Am I ever?”
Cargo paused, appearing to ponder the statement with great cogitation.
Her mind echoed with the light watery sound of Trace, laughing at Cargo’s pause. Sera scowled and swatted at him. “Thanks!”
He gestured with a nonchalant wave toward the second cup, indicating she get to it. Sera had already used her nano to clear most of the alcohol from her bloodstream and contained it for the next time she visited the head. However, Cargo didn’t know she could do that. Of Sabrina’s crew, only Flaherty knew that her nanotech was far superior to that of a person of her station.
Sera raised the cup to her lips and took a long pull of the vile liquid anyway. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful. She leaned back in her chair again, feeling much steadier than when she first sat down. “All things considered, it’s not a bad bit of extra credits to finish the visit with.” She patted her pocket.
Cargo grunted, “one day you’ll run out of people who haven’t seen you win a drinking contest and then what will you do for fun?”
“Dunno, I guess I’ll have to find a new way to fleece the common man.”
Cargo laughed at that, and several minutes later—with Sera moving under her own power—they made their way down the promenade and onto the commercial dock front. There was just as much traffic here, but of a different sort. Cargo transports trundled down the deck plating and service trucks were everywhere, delivering supplies or repair equipment.
Sabrina was in berth 724 station south. Long before she could see the ship around the curve of the docks, she could hear Thompson’s voice berating some poor cargo handlers. The echoing shouts eventually resolved into words and Sera hid a smile behind her hand as they approached.
“You lazy dolts, can’t you even lift a crate? I’ve seen hundred-year-old bots do a better job than you oafs. If you drop one more container, I’ll take it out of your scrawny, malnourished hides. Now get to it, I don’t have all day.”
Thompson was a large, blonde man who had been her supercargo for over six years. To avoid confusion with Cargo, they just called him The Super. He wasn’t a very outgoing man, mostly taken to brooding and stumping about the ship, but his attention to detail made him a good crewmember. That combined with his size and skill with a pulse rifle made him the right sort of super for Sabrina.
“How’s the last shipment?” Sera asked when she and Cargo reached the ship.
“Fine if these morons can manage to hold onto a dreking handle.” Thompson tossed the two dockworkers a contemptuous glare. “We’ll be loaded up with plenty of time to spare, don’t worry, Captain.”
“Good to hear,” Cargo said. “Send the final docs up to me on the bridge when you’re done.”
Thompson nodded and turned back to the handlers as another crate slipped from their grasp. “God’s great black space! What is wrong with you two, is this your first day on the job? I told you I was going to take it out of your hide and now I am. Which one of you wants to get your ear ripped off?”
“Somehow I don’t think that is helping them with their work,” Cargo laughed.
“Yeah, but I bet it makes him feel a lot better.”
“I’ll see you later, Captain; I’ve got to wash the smell of that bar you were in off me before my shift starts.”
Sera took a deep breath. “Dunno, I kind of like that malty musk on you.”
“In that case, I’m gonna take an even longer shower,” Cargo laughed and walked onto the ship. Sera stuck her tongue out at his back and walked over to an inspection port beside the cargo hatch to admire the sleek lines of her girl.
Sabrina was not a regular, boxy, freight hauler, having started her life as a pleasure yacht. Her previous owner had fallen on hard times had lost the ship in an outer system. Sabrina had needed repairs and the local shipyard, where she had been impounded owed taxes, and didn’t have the funds to make them. So the ship sat for forty years before Sera found her. With a hundred years of service before her impound, she was getting on, but that didn’t diminish the impact Sera felt when she first laid eyes on the vessel.
There was an influential man who owed Sera a favor or two and she got him to give her the money to buy the ship and furnish it with the necessary repairs. The finer aspects of the yacht’s interior had been stripped out long before Sera saw Sabrina, but it was the size of the vessel and the engines that mattered. The ship had the room to haul cargo and the power to do so quickly. There were some other modifications which had been made, but, like her advanced nano, Sera didn’t advertise those.
She noted with approval that the damage they had suffered on their last run had been repaired. They had been parked in a planetary ring, moving along with the flow of the debris, when a stray rock had damaged the port sensor array and left a long rent across a goodly portion of the ship. However, the profit from the questionable cargo, which had put them there in the first place, more than paid for the repairs.
Thompson let loose some parting curses as the dock workers finished loading the final crate. She turned to watch with a smile; the dockworkers were visibly trembling as they got on their cart and drove off.
Sera returned to viewing her ship. She enjoyed these last quiet moments alone before going on board and filling out departure docs; these last few minutes when it was just her, Sabrina’s sleek hull, and the call of empty space. She could forget her past, and previous failures. Here, she was a good captain, Sabrina was prosperous, and she had a good crew.
Her reverie was interrupted by a stinging slap on her butt and Sera turned to see her pilot, Cheeky, standing behind her. She wore a coy smile and her hands wer
e resting on her tilted hips.
“One day I’ll get you to give me some of that luvin’ that you lavish on Sabrina,” Cheeky said.
“One day I’ll get you neutered and save us all a lot of hassle.” She rubbed her stinging butt; Cheeky could really deliver a good slap. Sera found herself becoming aroused as she looked at her pilot. Cheeky was a very attractive woman who typically wore as little clothing as local law or custom would allow. On Trio that meant she wore little more than three triangles of cloth, her shoes and a purse.
Sera shook her head to clear her mind. Cheeky also had altered glands that could put out much higher levels of pheromones than any human should be allowed to. “Make sure you shut that off and take a long shower, you know what happened last time your love smell filtered through the ship.”
“We all had a good time.” Cheeky wiggled her hips suggestively and blew her captain a kiss as she walked onto the ship. From behind it was obvious why Cheeky had the name she did. Sera found herself wondering if it took a conscious effort to walk like that or if the woman had resorted to surgery.
Following her pilot onto the ship, Sera’s internal AI flashed a notification that they had made a secure connection to the ship’s private net. Sera checked the ship’s general status and greeted its AI.
Sabrina had been in a strange mood as of late. Sera chose to ignore the reply and smiled up at the nearest observation camera as Trace passed her authentication token to the bridge’s net. Sera checked in, finding Cargo already working on departure paperwork; he must have decided to skip the shower.