The navigational system changed to reflect the fact that they were in atmosphere and Ashley began feeding Jake information. She couldn’t help but spare a few glances at the landscape beneath. Shards, spires and slivers of glass were lit by soft golden light as they reached for the heavens. “Why don’t they break?” asked Clara from over her shoulder.
“They do, but not easily. They’re biological, roughly translating into amber trees,” Agameg informed them.
“Those are trees?” asked Ashley in amazement.
“Sort of. The plants excrete sticky fluid to catch insects. The sap hardens and they keep growing up instead of out because of the low gravity. It’s a small world, so it only has point seven six gees.”
Ashley marked their landing spot, a small patch in a large, flat section of ground. There were dozens of tall structures, most of them marked as habitats and military buildings. They were built to imitate the forest surrounding them. She selected a safe route for approach and nodded in satisfaction as it appeared in front of Jake. “This looks like it’ll be more interesting than I thought,” she commented.
“Oh, don’t count on it,” Kadri chuckled. “Most of this planet is swamp. You know the sap those trees are made of? It’s everywhere. I’m not leaving the ship.”
* * *
“Next time, I listen to Kadri,” Ashley said as she expanded her vacsuit until it covered everything up to the neck. “The ground’s sticky, the air’s tacky, even the smell sticks to the back of my throat. It’s like syrup without the sweet.”
“I told you,” Stephanie said as she watched the vacsuit expand under Ashley’s mini-dress. Her suit was so tightly fitted that that she still drew attention. The dress was almost too short, and had a brave neckline that pointed down. The vacsuit beneath hid skin tone, but it did nothing to hide shape. “The sun might be good for regular clothes, but she said this whole continent is some kind of sap marsh.”
“I was hoping to gather some intelligence,” Ashley whispered.
“How so?”
“Booty trap.” Ashley smiled.
“Really? Here?” Stephanie asked, hushed.
“It’s a big port, law doesn’t seem to care about what we do much, not enough to make sure info piracy doesn’t happen anyway, and every second ship has a different corporate logo on it. Maybe even more,” Ashley explained. “Besides, I don’t feel like I’m contributing enough.”
“You’re the lead pilot, you manage all the other pilots who take the helm of the Warlord,” Stephanie countered.
“You mean Clara? Our navigators? Other than some training, they’re easy. The only other pilot who takes the Warlord’s controls is Captain, and well…” She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t try to manage him. Even while we were rebuilding the Warlord I felt like I was dragging my butt. I was either carrying stuff around, running cable, or painting. Brainless work.”
“You’re not that kind of specialist, you worked harder than anyone expected you to. They couldn’t see it while we were hidden, but those records are out, and everyone’s seeing who got things done, and who dragged their butts,” Stephanie replied. “What did you paint, though? I haven’t gotten a chance to check it out.”
“Oh, it was this great decal I was going to put behind the ship’s name when we were done. A beefy screaming warrior with long hair, based on the story I read when I looked up the ship’s name after joining up,” Ashley replied, pointing to the side of the ship, where most of the workers and technicians worked at cutting ports and guns free from the bonds that formed when they expanded their ergranian hull.
“Then Captain changed the name,” Stephanie said. “Too bad, that might have been good on the side of the ship.”
“I rolled it up and scoonched it in under my bunk. Maybe we can put it up inside the ship if there’s a spot later. Anyway, if I can gather some intelligence at one of the bars that were on the port notice, then I’ll really be doing my part,” Ashley argued. “Besides, you’ll be watching.”
“From a distance.” Stephanie looked Ashley up and down.
Ashley smiled and winked alluringly. “Irresistible even with the vacsuit?”
“Your looks aren’t what worry me,” Stephanie replied. “This just isn’t the safest place for you to give it a try. We don’t know the terrain or the people, aside from Berkovitz. I know there are people here who know who we are and what we’re worth to the Order. I don’t want you caught out in the open if someone has the stones to start something.”
“Here? I bet more people would take Captain’s side. I’d have plenty of time to duck while you guys sort it out. Besides, it’s not like I’m one of the standouts on the crew, and I’ll never get caught. I’m using a passive hand scanner hidden in the glove of my vacsuit,” Ashley said, holding up her palm. “It’s that old ‘by touch’ style so no one will be able to tell I’m collecting data. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“All right, but if it looks too dangerous or starts to go bad,” Stephanie warned.
“I’ll back off and let you watch over me,” Ashley promised. “No problem.” As a final touch she shifted the colour of her vacsuit to a more complimentary shade of light purple, to match her dark blue mini-dress.
The rear hold of the Warlord opened to reveal the confiscated weaponry that had been stored on the Triton weeks before in the Enreega system. The variety of gear was already laid out for display. A whole squad of Warlord marines took their places to stand guard as Frost, Agameg, and a few other crewmen finished preparations. To one side, David and a couple of other mechanics sprayed a sign that read QUICK WEAPON REPAIR.
Captain Valent spoke to a pair of heavily-armoured visi and he handed one of them a palm-sized currency case. The sealed suits were sleek, with broad backs but unnaturally thin middles. Their arms weren’t anchored at the shoulders like a human’s, but seemed to drift from their midsection to the base of their necks at will. Across the surface of their chests lettering and shapes scrolled. Ashley tried to use the translator built into her small necklace comm but found herself bombarded with: SLIP 2118 - SELLING MUURISH HOUNDS : PLATFORM 0672 NOW READY TO PERFORM MINOR STARSHIP REPAIRS & DETAILING : SLIP 9244 - KAWAII BRAND! FULL HOLD! : SLIP 0412 - HULL & EQUIP OF SM HAULER AUCTION, BID BEFORE IT SINKS : SLIP 0009 - USED SKIDS- LOW ALTITUDE, LOW PRICES, HIGH SPEED!… and so on.
After a moment Ashley realized that Stephanie was staring at her with an amused smile. “How’s the new comm, Ash?”
“Cheap, but it’s working,” she replied as she stopped the translation. “I was wondering, how does it send images into my eyes without me looking at it?”
“It bounces a beam off something nearby,” Frost said as he joined them. “Still looking to do some shopping? You’re going to get some deals, dressed like that.”
“Nice,” Stephanie said. “In front of your significant other, you’re eye-groping a girl half your age. Good luck getting at my undercarriage when our quarters are ready.”
“A compliment! Just acknowledging the work that goes into looking good,” Frost protested. “Harmless, right, Ash?”
“From someone else, maybe,” Ashley replied. “And Steph’s right, your timing stinks.”
“Can’t win,” Frost said. “I should just stay back and sell guns.”
Ashley had seen ports without retail regulation before, but compared to Hodria they were orderly and small. The slips were all separated by a distinct lane of packed and hardened dirt. All the ships she could see in either direction had opened their holds to reveal a seemingly infinite variety of articles. The sounds of patrons moving from shop to shop nearly drowned out the droning of larger surface transport vehicles running down a road ten metres behind the Warlord.
The Warlord was seeing her first customers. The half-dozen crewmen at the weapons’ table were busy, and before long the security squad had their rifles raised, pointed at anyone who touched a weapon on the table. “Load it at the table and you get slagged!” Frost shouted as he hurriedly returned t
o the Warlord’s smaller rear hold. Captain Valent watched from the laneway near the open hatch with the visi guards at his side. To Ashley’s surprise, they did absolutely nothing as one of their customers broke from the crowd with an ill-gotten handgun in his hands.
“Shoot him,” Stephanie ordered calmly.
One of the Warlord’s marines fired three rounds into his back. A crewman ran forward, snatched the weapon, and walked back to the Warlord’s hold. Ashley could only stare in shock as the visi soldiers walked to the groaning thief on the ground, yanked his belt and backpack off then emptied his pockets. When all the thief’s articles were collected, they offered them to Captain Valent who shook his head. “Consider it a tip.”
A small, dented hover bot descended from above the crowds and scanned the thief. It turned to the visi guards and shook its round body while making several distorted grunt noises. “He’ll live with medical support, but the ship he’s registered to left nine days ago,” translated Ashley’s comm through text beamed into her eyes.
“Is the ship scheduled to return?” asked one of the guards in a guttural grunt and wheeze language.
“No,” answered the round robot.
“Feed him to the luzeet,” ordered one of the guards.
Two thin tendrils extended out of the sides of the hover bot and wrapped around the unconscious man. The bot swept him up as it flew over the Warlord to the nearest glassy spire, where it pressed his back against the sticky surface. Ashley’s jaw dropped in shock and alarm. The bot bumped the man in the chest to ensure that he was well and truly stuck before zipping off to some other business.
“Is it putting him there for safe-keeping?” she asked Stephanie, knowing that it was an unlikely possibility, but hoping she was right.
“I don’t think you’ll want to watch,” Stephanie replied. “But I’m just guessing.”
Before her eyes a whip thin, vein-like tendril grew through the inside of the hardened sap towards the thief. Ashley glanced at Stephanie, who was still watching, and looked back to the man in time to see him jerk as though he had been struck in the back. Suddenly he was awake, struggling frantically. The crowd around them drowned out whatever sounds the man might be making, but Ashley’s imagination filled in the rest. The thin vein stretching up through the hardened sap turned red from the tip down towards the base as the thief screamed. She looked away when she realized she was watching him being drained.
“So we’re settled in?” Captain Valent asked the visi guards.
“You have paid us in full, yes. The duration of your stay does not match your stock level, however. I expect your guns to be gone in an hour. It seems like a waste of GC,” the guard replied. Ashley read their side of the conversation as it was translated.
“We have other business here,” Captain Valent replied.
“Good luck,” the guards said before walking off casually.
“Frost,” Captain Valent spoke into his comm. “Slip fees came out to fifteen thou. Double your prices.”
There was barely a second’s delay before Frost could be heard over the crowd. “Introductory stock is gone! Bringing out the real gear! Come get it!”
“Did you guys do this a lot before?” Ashley asked. “And what’s with the introductory stock?”
“It’s a trick,” Stephanie replied. “They sell the standard stuff off for fair prices then break out the rest at four times the going rate.”
“Eight times,” Captain Valent chuckled. A few customers were walking away from the Warlord’s hold, complaining bitterly. Twice as many were on their way in, however. “The demand for weaponry here is so high he thinks he’ll be out in fifteen minutes. It’s David and the other machinists that’ll probably be busy for the next eight hours.”
“Fixing guns,” Ashley finished.
“Really good gig,” Stephanie said. “They get a quarter of the take on repairs, it’s going to be a nice payday for the machinists who are lucky enough to be off duty.”
“Big demand for that here, too,” Captain Valent replied. “Speaking of which.” He pulled a gun belt and sidearm from a large bag and hitched it around Ashley’s hips.
It was the ceramic shell pistol and bullet belt she’d used on the Triton. “I don’t want to carry,” she objected in a whisper. “It’ll screw up the lines of my dress.” She noticed that most of the shells had been exchanged for red and brown versions. Ashely wasn’t entirely sure what they did, but knew they were lethal.
“All but two of your shells are still bursters and web rounds, but David painted them so they look like incendiary and shaped charge rounds,” Captain Valent said. “These two at the sides? They’re real. If you hit someone in full combat armour you’ll punch a hole the size of your fist straight through.”
“I’m not a killer,” Ashley objected. “Besides, I’ll be with Stephanie and two of her security people all the time.”
“Listen,” Stephanie whispered, taking one of Ashley’s hands. “You haven’t visited a port like this. The visi actually support human slavery, they don’t care about what happens to you. If someone snatches you, law enforcement will be on their side, especially since you still have a listed price in the live goods exchange. Every human you see here is fair game and there are people here who are as good at snagging slaves as Captain is at bounty hunting. If you don’t like what someone’s doing near you, plug them in the face with whatever’s loaded in that cannon, and we’ll back you.”
Ashley’s mind was changed about carrying a sidearm, and she adjusted the belt so it hung better, bouncing on her hip as she walked. She suddenly felt less confident about her chosen role for the trip.
Stephanie must have been able to tell. “Would you rather skip this trip? You could stay aboard, or just stay with the group, no one would blame you.”
“I know.” Ashley looked around for a moment at all the people nearby. Most of them looked like normal spacers. A little mud spattered around the ankles, but she didn’t see any of the anxiety she would expect to see in such a dangerous place. If they could move about without much of a care, why couldn’t she? “No, I’ve got some coin burning a hole in my pocket and I don’t think we’ll see another port before New Years. I have shopping to do.”
“You have pockets somewhere in that outfit?” asked one of Stephanie’s marines. She was a taller woman with a broad chin who was quick to smile, but Ashley hadn’t gotten a chance to know her.
Ashley flipped the short sleeve of her mini-dress up to reveal a strap holding several slips of GC that glittered their denominations of red for 25GC, green for 50GC, and purple for 100GC. “I have smaller GC bits and other denominations on the other arm,” she told her. “You learn how to hide stuff when you live in a slave compound and have to wear whatever the masters tell you to.”
“I could imagine,” the marine said, mildly surprised. “I’m Megan.”
“Ashley, most people call me Ash,” she replied after adjusting her sleeve so it hid her currency.
“I think everyone knows who you are, Lieutenant,” Megan replied conspiratorially.
Several crewmen joined them, including the rest of one of Stephanie’s squads. They were a group of twenty-eight. “We’re all here,” Stephanie called out. “All right, here are the rules for this short leave: keep up with the group. Barter lightly with the shopkeepers, that means counter-offer once or twice, don’t argue or piss them off. Once you buy it, it is yours, we will not be going back if you’re not happy, and I doubt anyone will take returns. Do not buy anything that is too big to fit in your locker or bunk drawers. Our excursion will last two hours or until the Warlord recalls us, whichever comes first. Never go anywhere that will take you out of a direct line of sight of two of your crewmates. Even if you know you can take care of yourself here, it is in your best interest to assume you are wrong. Now let’s go see the sights.”
Ashley had never told Stephanie that she enjoyed watching her do her job, but it was true. It was always interesting to watch her friend do what
she was best at. The group moved away from the Warlord with Stephanie and another marine in the lead.
At first she didn’t see why the combination of lower gravity and sticky streets was such a big deal, then she took her first steps off the Warlord’s ramp and nearly lost her balance. The ground had a tackiness that sometimes made pulling her foot off the ground to take the next step interesting. She’d already seen someone pull too hard and fall face first. The witnesses were happy to applaud their clumsy performance for a moment before going on with their business.
“So, you grew up on a planet?” asked Minh as he surprised her from behind.
As a reflex she gave him a hug, and smiled with relief when he returned the gesture. She released him and continued to walk with the group at his side. “Yup, my master bought me young. I was lucky he shopped local, got to know my home world that way. You’re from Freeground, the same place as Captain?”
Minh hesitated a moment then nodded. “Technically he’s from somewhere else, but as far as I’m concerned, he’s my old friend from Freeground.”
Ashley decided to sidestep the complicated explanation of Jacob Valent’s origin; she already knew enough as far as she was concerned. It still gave her pause.
“Why do you call him that?” Minh asked. “I know he’s the captain, but you use it like it’s his name.”
“You know, I have no idea,” Ashley replied. “Steph? Why do we-“
“Tradition,” she answered.
“So you don’t know either?” Ashley teased.
“Nope. When I joined up most of the crew just called him Captain like it was his name. I think a lot of crews do that on mercenary ships, though. In all the time I’ve been aboard, he’s never complained about it.”
Megan smiled down at the group, from her height it was impossible to share the same eye level and added, “Before my time there were captains that had prices on their heads that were so big that they’d hide their name. They’d go by ‘Captain of’ and add whatever their ship name was. Maybe that’s where it comes from?”
“Guess that’s a good answer,” Ashley said with a shrug. “Thanks.” She returned her attention to Minh-Chu. “What was Freeground like?”
Spinward Fringe Broadcast 7: Framework Page 44