Bad Bargain: A Space Rules Adventure Part 1

by Ian Cannon

  Tawny gave him a corrective grin, said, “Uh, no sweetie. That’s a woman in there. Young, maybe. But definitely a woman.”

  “I didn’t notice.” He cleared his throat. “If she is a politician, that would be a breach of our rules.”

  “She’s a royal. Does that make her a politician?”

  “I don’t know how they do things on Orbin. I’m sure she’s got huge cultural clout. An Orbinii royal? A teenager?”

  Tawny agreed, “She’s probably a global celeb. Little Orbinii teeny-boppers probably watch her every move in packs and herds.”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t have anything to do with the war effort. How involved in Orbin strategy could she possibly be? They have whole war councils for that.”

  “Okay,” Tawny said, “so let’s assume she’s not a politician.”

  “Then we’re good,” Ben declared.

  “Unless,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Maybe her kidnapping had some political significance to the Underworld cause. Maybe the Cabal had political intentions, and here we are—interfering with their cause. That would be a breach, wouldn’t it?”

  Ben leaned forward in the chair, put his elbows on the table, hands together, thinking. He gave her a severe look. “Is that how you feel? I mean, the Cabal are your people. Would they consider kidnapping an Orbinii royal as a political maneuver?”

  Tawny’s face melted into a frown. This was where hers and his ideals clashed. She was Cabal. He was Imperium. They were supposed to be mortal enemies. Now they were soul mates. The Cabal would definitely consider kidnapping a Royal as a political maneuver. They were a hard grouping of interplanetaries, often ruthless. But did she herself? Was she that ruthless on the inside? She knew her husband would disagree; he would consider kidnapping a crime, period. She smiled, said, “No. This was kidnapping. War or no war, this was a crime. I believe that. And honestly, we don’t even know if the Cabal was involved.”

  “Agreed. From now on, we should never consider it a direct breach of our rules to save a girl from a ransom, politician or otherwise.”

  “Absolutely,” she said. “But then there’s another problem.”

  “What?”

  “Rule seven.”

  Ben pulled the window back over to him, read on, “Rule seven: There will be no contracts of a law enforcement nature, especially those pertaining to the adjudication of war crimes.” His eyes went up to her. “You think this was a wartime law enforcement contract?”

  She gave it a moment’s thought staring off to the side, then said, “Nah.”

  Ben swished the window away. Rules eight, nine and ten all dealt with delivering certain supplies, wartime communications and the ethics of their services. They had nothing to do with saving an Orbinii heiress. He said, “Fair enough. So in short, this job neither benefited nor obstructed any war effort for either side—your Underworld Cabal…”

  “Or your Imperium.” She over enunciated the words playfully, “Per-fect neu-tral-i-ty.” She walked passed him drawing a hand across his shoulders.

  “Where you going?” he asked.

  She went to the stairs leading up to the top quarters, the master suite, and said, “We’re on our way to meet the Orbin Royal Council. I want to be presentable. I’m taking a shower.” She stopped at the steps and turned her head to say seductively over her shoulder, “Come join me.”

  Hot water seethed across their skin, steam furling up from their feet. Ben lathered her down starting with the back of her neck, then her shoulders, down her arms, around front. Her body was immaculate. Fatless. Hard. Slender. Even her scars seemed oddly pinkish, as if they were uniquely joyful to be gracing her contours. And there were plenty of scars. She had one on her upper arm. A bayonet. Two low on her abdomen. Shrapnel. A few others. He thrilled over them. They were no different than his own. He had been an infantryman in the Golotha 501st, high altitude jumper squad. Landing behind enemy lines was a bitch, always worth a few scars.

  But she had a few he didn’t thrill over. The ones crisscrossing her back. He hated those scars, didn’t like what they represented. Those scars made his stomach churn. It turned his thoughts to their current situation.

  He breathed in the moist, hot steamy air and said, “We’ll be at Orbin in an hour.”

  Her head tilted, her red hair pasting against her back. “Yeah?”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  Her tiny, hard shoulders shrugged. “I’ve seen stream pics. Looks like a beautiful planet. Pretty horizons. Everything’s yellow.”

  “It’s Orbin,” he reminded her.

  “I know what you’re saying,” she said. “I’ve been to planets in the Imperium before. A few Imperium moons. An Imperium colony or two. If you’ll recall, I was even at an Imperium prison once.”

  He blinked, a bit stung. His eyes went down to those scars peeking out from under her soaking, matted hair. He said, “Don’t remind me. Not exactly my shiniest moment with you.”

  She turned around, put her hands up on his chest. His hair turned black when it was wet. His eyes like blue ice. Their look was a serious one, as if she’d breached some uncomfortable topic. Her tiny grin soothed his nerves. “Don’t kick yourself. You weren’t even there. We didn’t even know each other.”

  His eyes rolled. “Still…”

  “Look, my husband,” she said. “Just because we were technically on opposing sides of the war…”

  “They were my people,” he snapped, his self-loathing showing.

  Her hands went to his face, guided his gaze down to hers. “It doesn’t mean it was your fault. It happened. It’s over. This is better.”

  He marveled at her. She was strength, beauty, darkness, brightness, all wrapped into one. She was the whole package. She had every reason to hate and loathe every Imperium soldier that ever lived. But she didn’t. In fact here she was, showering with one, calling him husband. He capitulated to her, nodded, thought—Ae’ahm, she’s a strong one.

  She turned her back to him, pointed at her shoulders indicating more lathering. He started lathering. She said, “Look, me going to Orbin is no different than you going to planets in the Underworld. Remember Lexxum? How about Molta-Danora, remember that?”

  He couldn’t help but grin. Molta-Danora, a night planet, everything crystal clear, the air crisp, the lights stark, black water oceans, tepid breezes. They’d made love in the mountains of Molta-Danora, on the beaches, everywhere they could. Yeah, he remembered Molta-Danora. However …

  “Molta-Danora’s not in the Underworld.”

  “Whatever,” she said. “Look, as for my escapades in the war, what about you and the moons of Sarcon, hmm?” she said.

  He’d taken combustion frags to both legs, even lost one from just above the knee. It got blown into meaty smithereens. But they grew it back, patted him on the butt, sent him back to the 501st. He said, “Mmm, yeah…”

  She turned back around, faced him. “Where was it?” she said guiding her hand down his midriff, across the planes of his pelvis to his inner thigh. Found his scars. “Was it here?”

  He smiled. “Yeah.”

  “Here too?” she said moving her hand higher, finding another scar.

  He smiled bigger. “Yeah.”

  “Want me to kiss it?”

  “Hurts sometimes.”

  She grinned like a devil looking up in his eyes and said, “I’ll make it feel all better.”

  Chapter Three

  Ben trotted down the main corridor securing the top button on his nicest shirt, a beige workman’s long sleeve. It complimented his dark spaceman’s jeans. He came to Starboard One and slapped the button. The door slipped open. The heiress sat on the edge of the bed looking as comfortable as an Ae’ahm priestess in a Wi’ahr cathedral. He smiled, said, “Your Highness, I thought you’d want to know…”

  “I am an Heiress,” she demanded.

  “Ah. Heiress. Well, we’re approaching the Orbin system.”

  She snapped
, “Well, tell me when we are there. I cannot wait to get off this bucket.”

  He nodded, still grinning. “Oh, me too. I’ll let you know.” He thumped the button and the door shut. Tawny met him on her way to the cockpit. “I’m thrilled to have that one on board,” he said.

  She gave him a weary look, and they entered the cockpit. Orbin was a yellow disc still a hundred thousand miles distant. Two Orbin state cruisers slid toward them bearing the prototypically over-designed look of an impractical people. They were large yet oddly sleek with blipping running lights and visible viewports.

  “REX, how we looking?” Ben said swinging down into his flight chair.

  “Looks like a greeting party. They’re hailing.”

  His eyebrows went up, impressed. “Oh, well…”

  Tawny brought up the hail and a three dimensional image of their caller holoformed over the comm pad. He had the blue-hued skin of an Orbinii with a head and features elongated a few percentile from the standard humanoid.

  “This is Captain Dash of the private transport freighter REX. Hello,” Ben stated.

  The head looked around as if to take in the cockpit, looking both of them up and down. “I am Security Viceroy Orsic of the Orbin Royal Council. We have been informed of your approach. Do you have the heiress in tow?”

  “We do. Preparing to deliver the package upon payout.”

  “Package,” he said less than enthused.

  “The heiress.”

  “I do not see her.”

  Ben looked over at his wife, then back. “She doesn’t seem to want to come out of her compartment.”

  “Compartment?” Again, less than enthused.

  “Quarters.”

  “Is she unharmed?”

  “No worse for wear, I’d say.”

  “I assume that means she is well.”

  “Uh, yes, correct, sir.”

  “Hmm. Proceed to Orbiter One. Once there, you will be briefed. Afterwards, you will be escorted to the palace.”

  “The palace?”

  “That is correct.”

  “We’d prefer to collect the payout and be on our…”

  “You will be escorted to the palace.”

  Ben and Tawny shared a look. Ben said, “Perfect,” less than enthused.

  Orbiter 1 was an enormous, multi-decked frame, housing an endless row of vessels—cargo transports, interstellar corvettes, personal vessels, private and public. The frothing planet of Orbin was directly below shedding a brilliant yellow light on all the station surfaces. Ben was assigned a slot and told to relinquish control of his ship. Hesitant, he did so. REX was guided slowly by tractor beam until he came to the designated spot, stopped and lifted into place. There was a thud and the systems wound down.

  “REX, we good?” Ben said.

  “Ask me this time tomorrow, Cap.”

  “Right.” A long passage umbilicus extended forward telescoping until there was another bump. The inner air lock hissed down in the cargo bay and husband and wife gave each other a look. “Well, let’s go greet the greeters.”

  “I don’t know much about the Orbinii,” Tawny mentioned as they moved down the passage.

  “They’re temperamental,” Ben said. “Friendly, but stay on their good side.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed.

  He punched Starboard One’s hatch release. Before the door was fully open, Heiress Orona came whisking gracefully from her room, prideful chin in the air, turned and headed away. They followed patiently. Once all three were in the lift, they stood in silence as it lowered toward the cargo bay. Orona seemed determined to ignore their presence, so it came to Ben as a shock when she murmured simply, “Thank you.” The words seemed very much against her will, but he’d take what he could get.

  “You’re welcome,” he said.

  Viceroy Orsic stood front and center in the bay, an armed team of royal guards, all wearing military blacks, stood behind. His greeting to Orona was extremely formal. She walked to him and stopped. No touching. “Welcome home, my Heiress,” he said.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  He motioned to the guards to lead her back through the air lock, down the umbilicus. Next, Ben and Tawny stood before him, both looking up. He stood a characteristic seven feet tall, had long, narrow limbs to match his elongated head. “We of the Orbin Royal Council are indebted to you.”

  “Oh nonsense. The debt was already agreed upon. After we get paid, I’d say we’re even,” Ben said with a cargo runner’s grin.

  “Payment will arrive immediately by yield account deposit. Come with me.”

  Not wanting to, he said, “Okay.”

  They moved down the umbilicus and into the station thoroughfare. Long windows showed the awesome sight of hundreds of ships lined out as far as the eye could see. Ben eyed REX among them. The mag spires were angled down, the cargo haulers tucked between, making it the tallest ship out there, but as they moved away, he had a sinking feeling. That was his home. It was his wife’s home. He didn’t like leaving it under Orbinii care.

  They followed their escort through the station busied by a handful of differing species, from the dwarfish, powerfully-built bipeds inhabiting the Dornan moon Tremus, to the slick-faced Stothosians with their vertical forehead ridges, to the cat-faced people from the jungle moon of Saltu. Orbin had a lot of visitors. Ben even turned and gawked at what he thought was one of the mythical non-gendered no-names-without-origin of some distant star, a tall, faceless being that didn’t even have eyes.

  Eventually, they entered a security sector and went to a private office. The room was large with a panel of Orbin magistrates and administrators behind a table. Ben and Tawny were instructed to stand before them. They did so, Tawny offering a good-natured wave, Ben saying, “Hi there.”

  Viceroy Orsic took his place standing next to the center Orbin, a stoic looking fellow whose face seemed incapable of a smile. The guy said, “I am Supreme Viceroy Olan, Administer of Internal Defense. You are here for our assessment. Mission details.”

  Tawny and Ben stood silently, waiting for something, not knowing what. Finally Ben said, “Oh, you want us to speak?”

  Supreme Viceroy Olan nodded once, slowly. A yes.

  “Oh, uh, well—the mission was pretty simple. In and out. There were complications. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” He looked at Tawny for affirmation. She nodded.

  “Was there danger involved?” Supreme Viceroy Olan asked in his even, droning voice.

  “Uh, yeah. Yes. I suppose so.”

  One of the other Orbin councilors said, “There will be no added compensation for your inconvenience.”

  They looked at each other. Ben said, “We didn’t, uh, think there would be.”

  Supreme Viceroy Olan said, “And the heiress. Was she endangered at all?”

  Ben said cautiously, “Depending on the answer, will it cost us any compensation?”

  They all looked at each other. Viceroy Olan said, unamused, “No.”

  “Maybe a little,” Ben said.

  “Who were they?”

  Ben said, “We’re not too sure. One of them was named Ravekk. He was kind enough to introduce himself before trying to kill me.”

  Viceroy Olan said, “And he was not successful?”

  Ben paused, surprised at the question. He looked down, scanning himself to check for life, and said, “Uh, no he was not.”

  “And did you kill him?”

  “I can’t be certain. I shot him with a plasma gun. He was wearing armor. And he seemed very happy to be wearing armor.”

  “We are curious to know who is responsible for this crime against the Orbin royal family.”

  “I assure you, we are too,” Ben said.

  Tawny offered, “We’d never seen them. They were new, someone we’d never encountered.”

  One of the Orbin snuffled at the sound of her voice, a notion of disgust.

  “Could’ve been pirates or some for-hire clan,” Ben said.

  “What was their nature?�
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  Tawny and Ben exchanged a look. “Decently equipped.”

  “Very tactical.”

  Ben said, “I would prefer not coming across them again.”

  Supreme Viceroy Olan said as evenly as he’d said everything else, “I would prefer to eviscerate them into Molosian shark bait.”

  Ben’s eyes widened, surprised at the remark. He said, “Wow. You don’t seem… nothing.”

  “And they have no known association?”

  “They had markings. We didn’t recognize them,” Ben said.

  Tawny finished his thought, “A square. Three dots.”

  Another snuffle.

  “Which means one of two things,” Ben said.

  “What would that be?”

  “They were either very low-profile operators. Or very high.”

  One of the panel members assumed logically, “They targeted the heiress. Somebody from the Cabal. Somebody with political motive.”

  “Or…” Tawny said.

  They all switched eyes to her.

  She continued, “I wouldn’t be too quick to assume they were on the other side.”

  All eyes went back to Ben. Olan said, “What does she mean?”

  Ben looked at his wife feeling a tad guilty. He responded with, “She means they could have been one of your own, maybe an enemy within the Contingent. Do you have any? Enemies within the Contingent, I mean. Political enemies.”

  They all switched eyes murmuring amongst themselves. Supreme Viceroy Olan said, “None that would stoop to kidnapping. To whom might the female be referring?”

  Ben sighed. “They were tall. Maybe… Orbinii. I don’t know.”

  “That is absurd!” one of the panel members shouted.

  Viceroy Olan turned his head to Ben, stared at him with seriousness.

  Ben said, “We’re cargo runners, sir. We’re contract operators. The last thing we are is investigators.”

  Tawny said, “We’re afraid you’ll have to rely on your own intelligence for this one.”

  A round of snuffles cleared the entire panel. Disapproval.