Pirates of the Dark Nebula (Hearts in Orbit Book 2)

by S. C. Mitchell

  In minutes, Harvey’d developed a hobble. She barely recognized the droid who’d been her constant companion for almost two decades. The transformation is amazing.

  She turned to Rik. “Okay, so what part does Harvey play in your plans that he has to look and act human?”

  Rik indicated the wheeled box. “I’m not going to wheel Harvey all over Port Hubble, but I want him with us. Much as he’s a liability to us here, he can also be a real asset. I want him powered up and ready to assist us, just in case. Plus, I can then use the box to transport Kristen to the ship when we go. I’m planning on taking her with us.”

  Luna breathed a sigh of relief. “I was afraid you were going to kill her.”

  Rik’s expression darkened. “Kristin Devenport is a vile, wretched creature, responsible for a great deal of pain and agony throughout the galaxy. I’d have no problem using a blaster on the kill setting on her or throwing her out an airlock without a spacesuit. Believe me, she deserves much worse. But I’m pledged to bring criminals like her to justice. Her fate should be in the hands of a judge and jury.”

  Luna breathed a sigh of relief. Kristin Devenport was contemptible but completely helpless. Could I have sat by and let him murder her?

  She pushed that quandary to the back of her mind. “So, what’s our plan?”

  “There’s a man I’ve heard about through one of my contacts. A missionary, of sorts, who’s looking to transport some refugees off this planet.” Rik shook his head. “I don’t know him. I don’t know if I can trust him. I’m taking a chance. But if a few of those refugees have the skills I need, we’ll be able to take the whole lot with us when we make our escape from Port Hubble.”

  “What type of skills are you looking for?”

  “Navigation, weapons control, communications, maintenance, the lot. I need a starship crew.”

  “Why?” Curiosity tingled in Luna’s mind.

  Rik’s eyes lit. There was swagger in his stance. “We’re going to steal The Starboard Mist.”

  Chapter 5

  Luna’s head whirled as she and Rik made their way once again through the bustling crowds of Port Hubble. From prior observations, she’d concluded he lived in the poorer section of the city.

  She hadn’t been wrong.

  As they entered the northern subdivision the crowds thinned and the squalor spread. She couldn’t believe the utter destitution of the buildings and people living here. Rickety, ramshackle huts lined filthy dirt roadways. The inhabitants dressed in rags. Naked, malnourished children huddled in dark corners, their eyes wide with want and need.

  “Don’t look.” Rik’s words were curt, whispered under his breath. “Don’t make eye contact. These are desperate people.”

  “They’re children,” she whispered.

  “Yes.” His expression was grim. “Children who will slit your throat at the least provocation. Stay close.”

  “Is there nothing we can do?”

  “Someday,” he promised, his voice edged with steel. “Someday soon, but not now.”

  He cut an imposing, dangerous figure, striding the streets. His blaster hung holstered in full view at his right side, his hand never far from the hilt. The scowl plastered across his face caused most people around them to keep their distance, though suspicion and hunger lurked behind the eyes of many as they backed away.

  He’d encouraged Luna to also keep her blaster in the open, and ready, using the sash from her waist as a facemask to hide her nose and mouth. “You’re too pretty to be walking around where we’re going.” His words delighted and frightened her at the same time.

  Does he really think I’m pretty?

  Harvey trundled along behind, his head bowed as if in prayer. The monk’s robe hid him completely and muffled all mechanical sounds. His amble mimicked that of an older human. If Luna hadn’t known better, she would never have guessed there was a droid under all that clothing.

  She’d overheard Rik setting up the meeting over a private com connection. A public place, a tavern, in what appeared to be one of the seediest sections of Port Hubble. Rik agreed, but hadn’t seemed pleased with the site.

  “Markus Stout doesn’t trust me.” His eyes darkened. “I can’t say I blame him.”

  “Do you trust him?” Luna asked.

  He’d shrugged. “No.”

  Port’s End was the perfect name for this rundown tavern. Rik cringed at the thought of taking Luna through the rotting front door, but leaving her outside was an even worse option. And after what happened with Kristin, there was no way he was leaving her behind at the apartment again.

  This whole area should be razed and rebuilt. It’s nothing but a cesspit of misery and villainy. But there were hints of ancient grandeur in the rotting buildings. He looked forward to the day the galactic marshals could take control of Port Hubble and bring some civility back to this world and the wretched people who inhabited it.

  Sudden realization hit. Most of these people are not pirates. They’re simply luckless pawns in an interplanetary game that criminals play. But could the Dark Nebulan sector even be repatriated into the Galactic Federation? How many generations would it take to wash out all memory of this miserable existence?

  That was thought for another time. Right now desperation had driven him here seeking assistance from these people. Was there any chance he’d find even one suitable person for his purposes? Hell. He needed at least three.

  A navigator was top of the list, followed by someone with starship weaponry training. Even if they successfully got off-planet with The Starboard Mist, they’d be pursued. The right course and a good gunner would be a necessity. One or two on full time ship maintenance monitoring would also be needed, in case anything went wrong or, gods forbid, they got hit.

  Even with that, it would be a skeleton crew. But enough to attempt the escape. They’d have to train some of the others in flight perhaps. Escape from the system would take days, possibly weeks.

  Rik sighed. What am I getting myself into?

  If he waited for his next contact in two weeks, he could count on the marshals to arrange his extraction, but two more weeks here meant Luna would be in constant danger . . . and he’d have to kill Kristin Devenport.

  Not an option.

  But did he even have an option?

  First he had to meet this Markus Stout, and find out what the man had to offer. And what Stout required in return.

  The door was heavier than it appeared, the hinges better oiled and maintained than expected in this rundown area. This bar is not what it appears.

  His shove sent the door careening into the wall with a resounding bang. The bustling bar area instantly quieted, as all eyes focused on him.

  Frack. So not the entrance I was planning.

  Still, maybe he could make this work. He deepened his scowl.

  Stale Karthos beer laid a base scent over the acrid smell of crinblepot smoke that billowed in the air throughout the tavern. The only sound, synthtango backbeat from a staticy speaker behind the bar. The crowd eyed him nervously, fight-or-flee decisions being made, no doubt.

  “Wha-da-ya-want, stranger?” The bartender’s Gozarian accent lisped through a jaw missing more than a few teeth. Gaze narrowing, he reached for something hidden below the bar counter. Rik tensed, as less than two meters away a burly bouncer looked ready to leap at him.

  Swinging his gaze from left to right, Rik scanned the barroom. “I’m looking for Markus Stout.” He tried to keep his tone even and controlled, but his heart was thudding in his chest.

  The silence held for two heartbeats, the faces in the crowd relaxed, conversations started back up, and he was all but ignored.

  “If you’re looking for me, you’re looking a little bit too high.” The deep voice came from a figure he’d mistaken for a child. The little
person ambled toward him. “But you sure do know how to make an entrance. You’d be Rik Mazar?”

  The man held out his hand in greeting. Cordiality like this was uncommon enough in Port Hubble generally, and completely foreign in this section of the city.

  “You’re not from Arkos, are you Mr. Stout?” Rik took his hand, but released it quickly.

  “Call me Markus. And right now, I’m not from anywhere.” He shot Rik a wink. “Come on. I’ve got a place reserved in the back where we won’t be overheard. You’re safe enough here. These are my people.”

  Not good. If the tavern was full of Markus’s people, Rik might have put Luna in greater danger than he’d expected.

  Rik had been in places like this before, but usually alone. Maybe I should have left her and the droid in the apartment.

  Why were there no good options open to him?

  He followed Markus to a small booth in the shadowy back reaches of the bar. The music was softer here, and the closest table far enough away to give them some privacy. Rik sat down with Luna sliding in next to him. Harvey continued to stand while Markus took a seat across the table.

  Markus came right to the point. “You have a big enough ship?”

  “It depends on who I’m transporting.” Rik was sure that statement would be taken wrong. He’d meant it that way, wanting to see the man’s reaction.

  Markus frowned. His brow furrowed. “They’re people. Refugees off this gods-forsaken rock. What more do you need to know about them? Do you have a ship or not?”

  It wasn’t a ruse or a trap. And it wasn’t a slave shipment, which is what Rik had suspected. The man really cared.

  The tension in Rik’s shoulders eased. “You misunderstand. I have the ship. What I do not have is the crew. Specifically a navigator, weaponry specialists, and a maintenance crew. Are there any skilled people in your group? Anyone who could man a starship bridge station in any capacity?”

  Luna had assured him she could handle communications and warp core monitoring from one station if needed. Harvey could double up on science and scanning duties. But, Rik still couldn’t run the rest of the ship alone, even from the captain’s command console.

  The crash of a bottle and voices raised in anger drew their attention to two men at the bar.

  “What did you say?” A burly pirate held the jagged edge of the broken bottle toward a wiry but taller man.

  “I said your wife’s as ugly as your ship.” The taller man swiped the bottle aside as his fist connected with the big man’s jaw.

  The pirate staggered as the other bar patrons edged back, forming a circle around the two combatants, then he charged toward the taller one.

  Markus chuckled. “They’re at it again.”

  Rik noticed the bartender shaking his head toward the bouncer. The bouncer backed off. These were obviously regulars here. Perhaps an old rivalry that needed to be settled at long last, probably leaving one of the men unconscious or dead.

  It doesn’t even surprise me anymore. On more than one occasion, he’d been one of the combatants in a barroom similar to this one.

  The two men went down on the floor, and Rik lost sight of them behind the crowd of onlookers.

  Cheers and jeers rose from the gathered bar patrons, each choosing their own champion.

  “Get ‘em Tusk.”

  “Watch his left Barney.”

  When the shorter, heavy-set one stood, raising his hands triumphantly in the air, the crowd applauded.

  “Bunch of idiots,” Markus mumbled.

  The big pirate pointed toward the man on the floor. “No one makes fun of my ship!”

  Feeling Luna tense beside him, Rik chuckled.

  “His ship?” she whispered through clenched teeth.

  Markus rolled his eyes, but then grew serious. “Speaking of ships . . . the one you’re thinking of taking us off world on . . . it isn’t your ship?”

  Rik leaned forward on his elbows and nodded. “Oh, it’s mine all right. At least, to a certain extent. But the crew on it right now is not mine, and we’d never get out of the spaceport with them onboard. I can get the old crew out, but I need some skilled people to replace them.”

  With swagger and confidence, Rik had been able to persuade Alixander Zartosovich to not only ignore Kristin’s report, but give him command of The Starboard Mist.

  “A trial run,” the man had said. “Bring me back some booty.”

  The crew, however, would be the same band of cutthroats he’d been working with for the past month. Low on brains, but filled with ambition by the bucket load. There wasn’t one of the back-stabbing rogues he trusted. If Rik brought on a band of back-world refugees as his first mission as their captain, there’d be mutiny for sure.

  Markus fidgeted in his seat. “How legal will this be . . . galaxy-wise?” The question cut right to the heart.

  What passed for legal and acceptable in the Dark Nebulan system, was oftentimes a crime from the civilized galaxy’s perspective. There was something in the little man’s eyes that sparked of integrity. He didn’t want his people to escape the pirates only to be brought up on charges of theft and piracy in front of a galactic board of review.

  It all boiled down to trust. Did Rik trust Markus? And how did Markus feel about Rik?

  He’s probing. He suspects a trap. And why shouldn’t he? I might as well tell him, gods help me.

  But Markus felt right. Honest. It had been a long time since Rik had felt that way about anyone.

  Trust is forged in fire.

  Rik leaned in toward Markus, lowering his voice to avoid any possibility of being overheard. “This operation will be approved and sanctioned by the galactic marshals. Once we escape there will be no further implications for any of your people.”

  He’d been as honest as he could be under the circumstances, without coming right out and exposing what he was. Even so, he’d just put his head in a noose.

  Markus went stiff, his eyes shifting nervously.

  Worried or considering the situation? Rik’s stomach tightened. If he’d misjudged the man, things could go very wrong very fast.

  Then Markus sighed and drummed his stubby fingertips on the table. His eyes glazed over. “Tina could probably handle navigation. I’d have to ask, though.” The man was talking to himself. “Old Pinder and his boys know farmbot maintenance. How different could it be?”

  His gaze cleared. “Okay. I might have the people you need, but there’s twenty-seven in all, and most won’t be worth their weight in space.”

  Rik nodded. “I only need three to five who are. Is there anyone who knows how to run a star destroyer class weaponry console?”

  Markus shrugged. “I can program a photon torp, but my blaster targeting sucks. Maybe Quatrain . . .” His lips pursed, and he blew out a soft breath. “But, he’s awfully young for something like that . . .” He shifted uncomfortably. “Look. I need to talk with my people. How do I contact you?”

  Rik shook his head. “How about I talk to your people and save us all a lot of time. We need to move fast.”

  This was all about trust. If Markus didn’t trust him, they weren’t getting off planet anytime soon. And a delay right now could be costly.

  Rik widened his eyes, tilting his head in question. “Well?”

  Markus sighed again. “Come on.”

  Chapter 6

  Luna paced along the back wall of the dim basement room beneath the tavern. Harvey reached out, his gloved hand coming to rest on her shoulder, stopping her forward motion. But the touch was soft and felt caring. Even mute the droid was a comfort.

  The dank underground chamber was filled to capacity. Mildew and perspiration permeated the air almost as richly as the overpowering sense of desperation. Only half of the antique illumine bulbs worked in the ceil
ing lights, and most of those were flickering.

  “I won’t lie. There’s a measure of danger.” Rik was speaking from the other side of the room, to the twenty-seven gathered refugees. “Possibly great danger.” His stance betrayed tension and concern.

  While contained, panic shown in each pair of eyes around the room. Luna could feel desperation radiate from them. Every one of them had their own reasons no doubt, but they all needed to get off this gods forsaken world. Jumping into a fire would be no less dangerous than staying in Port Hubble.

  “What do we have to do?” A raven-haired, dark-skinned woman had taken the leadership role for the refugees. Tall and willowy, she possessed the kind of beauty that went beyond pretty, into the exotic. On an outlaw world like this, her beauty could easily be the source of her troubles. Still, she offered a measure of cool self-confidence Luna hadn’t seen from any of the others.

  Rik shook his head, addressing the woman. He brought to mind Mr. Binter, Luna’s elementary school tutor, right before he was about to spring a test. “It’s not what you have to do; it’s what you have to be. I need people with skills to help man a destroyer class starship.”

  Markus stood beside Rik. “Tina, you told me once you had some navigational training. Can you handle a starship station?”

  The woman nodded. “Yeah, I can handle that. As long as I’m navigating away from this rock, I’m all yours.”

  Rik’s posture eased. “Good, now anyone else? Any skills we can use?”

  A number of the refugees started talking at the same time, offering up what they had. Luna couldn’t follow all the talk, but Rik’s smile and constant nods seemed a very good sign.