by Bruce Marcom
Chapter Two
“Is the pre-flight check done yet?” Eve inquires.
“Yes, and I also loaded twenty Type-E mines, a status web net, and the cloaking device you requested. I am not sure the cloaking device will work on our ship because of its size. The device was created for smaller ships, like fighters or shuttles; our ship is the size of a Class 3 destroyer. We do have three shuttles in the cargo bay,” 42 informs.
“That is fine. I want to do a weapons check when we are in orbit and before we take off to the destination. I want all the weapons tested, including the large projectile cannons, medium pulse lasers, and the small rotating guns. Make sure we have missiles at maximum capacity for all of our missile racks,” Eve says insistently.
“We’re going to war or something? Geez, that is a lot of firepower,” 42 ponders.
“I just like to be ready for anything that might come up, especially in an area that is unpredictable and unstable as a Neutral Zone. Also make sure all 197 crew members are ready to go.”
“Why are we going out in the middle of nowhere, might I ask?”
“You may not. Just trust me, 42. I would never do anything that would jeopardize any of our lives or my ship—you should know that by now. I just want to go and check something out.”
“Okay, Boss. You know, I always have faith in you. You are probably the smartest person I have ever met. I enjoy working for you, not just for the money, or all the upgrades that I have gotten for my body, but you have an active mind and are sagacious for your years.”
“Okay, stop kissing the boss’s butt, 42, and come up to the bridge. I am having an issue with the tactical display at the weapons station,” Gartooth Hammertail says in an unimpressed fashion, standing in the cargo bay door halfway in the main corridor. 42 turns around and sees the huge Crocodile man with the protruding jawline and crooked teeth leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. “Well, chop, chop! Let’s go. I haven’t got all day, got things to do, people to kill and such….”
“You know you are the most annoying person I have ever met,” 42 grumbles and heads up to the bridge with Gartooth. Eve giggles a little; watching those two work together is somewhat comic relief sometimes. Gartooth has been the tactical officer on the ship for three years. Occasionally he can be annoying, but he knows his job very well. He comes from a Crocodile family that has had mostly security job careers over the last century or so.
The rest of the crew is a motley bunch of interesting characters. At the helm is Helma Seni, a Snake female; her twin sister Nelma Seni is at navigation. Then, of course, there is 42, who is an Android in charge of communications and accounting. Rulu Barbtail, a female Crocodile, is the chief engineer. Meto Shawn, a human male, is the First Officer and controls the science station and sensor ops. Dr. Farshe Mezeenabark, a female Wolfkin, is the ship’s chief medical officer. Pura Shitztar, cargo supervisor and ship’s cook, is a female Katlin, a member of the race of cat people.
Eve goes back to her office to attend to some last-minute details before they launch. As she sits in her chair, the Vid screen starts beeping, indicating an incoming call. She presses a button, and a Snake man appears on the screen.
“Hello, Lady Eve. I heard you were back in Hosan. How does it feel to be back home?” Fartan Balltail politely asks his favorite client. Fartan is the attorney for Eve’s merchant group and has been for about three years. His specialty is corporate law. In this case, the lawyer is literally a snake, not just figuratively.
“What’s up, Fartan? I am just getting ready to take off in a few minutes.”
“I just called to inform you that the merchant group Digtailan has just declared war on your merchant group. I received notice from the merchant guild today. Digtailan paid all the appropriate filing fees with the merchant guild, so it is an official war.”
“I thought they were a Class Eight merchant like me. How can they challenge the same rank? I thought the challenger had to challenge one rank above their own.”
“You can challenge the same rank as long as the combined total of both groups’ assets equal enough to qualify as the winner for the next rank’s license. For example, if both contestants are Class Eight and their combined total assets equal enough to apply for a Class Seven license.”
“Oh well, that sucks big time. We are already fighting two other corporations. Guess we will just add them to the list. It’s bad enough we have to fight off the companies below us. Now we have to worry about companies with the same rank as ours? I’m getting tired of this crap. I guess I will have to take out one or two of these challengers to show them not to screw with me. The higher the ranked license, the bigger the contracts, and the more money my company makes.” Reptilian merchant ships double as warships because the fighting among them is much more dangerous than anything else they might encounter. They do not fear pirates, who would never attack a reptilian merchant ship because they are far better armed, armored, and shielded than any other pirate ships.
“I will send a message out to my other ships to add that group to the list of attack-on-sight ships.” She presses a button that transmits a message to her fleet.
A few minutes later, she activates the ship-wide intercom and informs, “Attention all crew members. We will be disembarking in approximately thirty minutes. Make sure all of your tasks have been completed and that you are at your action stations and ready for takeoff at 13:00 hours.” About that time, she hears her door chime. “Enter.”
A tall, slender, black-and-white tiger-striped female Katlin in pink shorts and a pink tank top walks in the office, carrying a box on a dolly along with another thin rectangular package.
“This just came for you,” Pura Shitztar states simply. She sets the box on the desk.
“Thank you, Pura.” Eve gets up and begins to open the box. Pura shrieks at the sight of the box’s contents. Eve pulls out the severed head of a Snake man; this appears to be the head of Captain Iquzel. There is a note attached to the side of the box, which Eve detaches as she places the head back in the box. She reads the letter aloud:
My Lady, I am sorry my former employee has caused you inconveniences. I hope that this small token will make amends for any loss that you may have incurred. I hope to continue our business relationship, as you are one of the best customers I have. Please take these two gifts as a token of my appreciation for your business. May your profits always be high, My Lady. Signed, Lord Cos.
“That is so gross; I think I am going to hurl….” Pura leaves the room in a rush to get to the nearest bathroom. Eve just sits there and smiles while thinking to herself, I have just the place for this head. She presses a button on her desk and a side panel opens. There are a couple of rows of heads mounted on the wall.
“Yes, this will go nicely in my head collection. I will have to polish it up first and then it will go great right here,” she says as she checks an open slot for the head size of her new trophy. This head would be the first in her collection that was not one of her own victims. She opens up the other package, which appears to be a painting of herself done by a very famous reptilian artist. “Oh my. Look at this picture of me by Yuha Jukuna. It must have cost a fortune. Looks like Lord Cos is flirting with me with these gifts. Vid screen on.” The screen becomes active. “Lord Cos, please.”
“Well hello, Lady Eve,” the Wolfkin says with anticipation.
“I just received your gifts. You sure know how to charm a girl. Thank you so much. I am very pleased to say the least.”
“I am happy to hear our relationship has not been damaged. I am glad you enjoyed the gifts. I look forward to our next transaction.”
“Indeed, so do I. I will chat with you later since I am about to take off. I just wanted you to know that I received the gifts and to let you know that all is well with us. May profits guide you and your ventures. Good day. Vid out.”
The intercom activates once again for an incoming message.
“Boss, we are ready for takeoff. Are you coming up
to the bridge?” 42 asks.
“Yes, I am coming up there now.”