Siv had seen worse starships leave Ekaran IV for orbit, but only a few.
“I hope the internals are better than the exterior,” Siv thought at Silky.
“A traveling cult as bizarre as these bozos can scarcely afford to worry about cosmetic problems, sir,” Silky reasoned. “And they don’t need much in the way of weaponry because they’re too poor to be robbed. As long as their shields, flak cannons, and patchwork hull can protect them from orbital debris, then they’re good to go.”
“And if the engines give out halfway to the Titus system?”
“Well, sir… You’ve survived Kompel withdrawal and encounters with the Tekk Reapers and Vega Kaleeb. You’re living on borrowed time already.”
“Was that supposed to be comforting?”
“It was, sir. But I think maybe the sentiment came up short.”
“You think?”
“I do most times, sir.”
Siv walked straight across the landing field. There was no point going around. The only other ships using it had reserved spots closer to the control tower, and Silky had not detected any vessels descending from orbit and heading here.
“How do they manage to pay for the power packs, refueling, and other supplies they need?”
Siv found it hard to believe that a significant number of people would donate good money to such a ridiculous cult. Yet eleven Hydrogenist vessels roamed the Federation sectors of the galaxy.
According to Silky, the Hydrogenists traveled from star system to star system observing, chronicling, and worshiping gas giant planets. Each devotee believed they would be blessed in the afterlife according to the number of “gods” they had visited. They even had their bodies ejected into the nearest of their beloved gas giants when they died.
“I have seen no record of their origin, sir, but they must have had significant sums when they began. Otherwise, I’m sure they depend on begging and duping rich fools, along with taking on a few paying passengers here and there.”
“How could anyone be duped into this?”
“Sir, if you don’t understand how humans can be illogical, how am I to explain them?”
“You have a more objective viewpoint.”
“Ah, well, in that case… The whole lot of you are foolish asses. It’s just that some are more the fool and some are more the ass.”
“Gee, thanks. Very helpful.”
“Don’t take it too harshly, sir. If you’re an ass, then I’m just a dingleberry.”
Siv groaned. “I can’t believe I was upset when I thought I’d lost you.”
“Come now, sir. You know I always outlive those I partner with.”
“You’re so full of comfort today.”
Mitsuki suddenly appeared alongside him, having deactivated the refraction cloak. She was walking in sync with him as if she’d been there the entire time. She had scouted ahead to check out the ship and the people boarding it. They were tired of getting rude surprises.
Siv glanced around. “Are you certain no one saw you?”
“At the ship? No.”
“I meant uncloaking just now.”
“No one’s looking our way.”
“The coast was clear, sir. I triple-checked before telling her it was okay.”
“So what did you think about our new traveling companions?” Siv asked.
Mitsuki chuckled as she swished her tail and expanded her wings into a full stretch. “They’re a bunch of weirdos, and I really can’t overemphasize that.” She snapped her wings in so that they formed a cape on her back. “Aside from that, they seem like halfway decent people. Naive as hell, of course, but that’s a point in our favor.”
As Siv got closer, he could better see the group of worshipers gathered outside the ship, slowly making their way inside. They wore the traditional Hydrogenist hooded robes with multicolored swirls.
“Most of them have already boarded,” Mitsuki said, “and the ship’s taking off in twenty minutes.”
They had barely escaped Kaleeb in time. Of course, they were lucky they had escaped at all. And that they still had the voucher the fallen crime lord Condrance Wang had acquired from the Hydrogenists.
Showing up with money wasn't enough. You needed a voucher first. Once you acquired one through an application process, you could bring along up to three additional passengers, provided you paid extra. The voucher had belonged to Wang, and he was dead, but Siv felt confident they could convince the Hydrogenists to accept it by kicking over a significant sum.
Silky had yet to stop bitching about the fact that the voucher was an actual plastic chit or how unnecessary it was to conduct this sort of business in a non-electronic medium.
As they neared the Hydrogenist ship, a cult member wearing a simple black robe approached them. A bronze medallion hung from his neck. He was tall and broad-shouldered. His stride was quick and confident. Siv guessed the robes hid considerable muscle. The man kept his hands tucked into his sleeves as he made a half bow to them.
“Sir, he’s wearing shock gloves, and he has a neural disruptor tucked into a hidden pocket.”
“May I be of humble service to you?” the man rasped.
Siv held out the plastic voucher. The man pulled a hand from his sleeve. Siv almost nodded in appreciation. Appearing to be nothing more than an ordinary glove, albeit bulky, the shock glove was incredibly well disguised. Naturally, someone wearing gloves in this heat made little sense, but then the Hydrogenists had one distinct advantage in that department. Everyone thought they were nuts. That made people less likely to question oddities.
The man took the voucher and scrutinized it. The plastic card was unadorned save for a swirling planet symbol and a series of numbers. He flipped it around to the blank back, frowned, and then pocketed it.
“You were not the one this was given to.” His voice turned suspicious. “What has become of Mr. Condrance Wang?”
“Unfortunately, he has passed away,” Siv answered.
The man’s voice turned to a harsh whisper. “Did you kill him?”
“We did not,” Mitsuki said.
The man cocked his head but made no response.
“We tried to save him,” Siv added with a shrug and a sigh. “But one of—”
The cultist waved a hand. “I do not need the details. I believe you.”
“Thank you,” Siv said.
“I am saddened that Mr. Wang did not escape his karma. We do not judge those seeking to mend their ways based on their past deeds. But we also do not countenance unrepentant murderers. I sense that you are not true criminals and that you have only ever killed in self-defense.”
Siv flinched. “That’s…very perceptive of you.”
"Are you an empath?" Mitsuki asked, apparently surprised, otherwise she never would have asked something so personal in a situation like this.
“I am not.”
The man lowered his hood, revealing a bald head and wide eyes set deep within a broad face. His entire head, from the back of the neck to the tip of his chin, was tattooed in a swirl of colors. Even his ears, lips, and eyelids bore permanent colors.
Siv peered into the man's cloudy eyes and restrained a reaction. It wasn't easy. The man looked as if a tiny gas planet sat atop his head.
Silky snickered, while Mitsuki went subtly rigid. The Hydrogenist seemed not to notice their reactions.
The man bowed his head. “I am Master Oktara, and I would like to welcome you to the Solace. However, there is another matter we must first attend.”
“Of course,” Siv replied, handing him five hundred hard credits. “According to Mr. Wang, this is the rest of what was owed to you.”
“Ah, I believe Mr. Wang may have misled you. The price we gave him was at a significant discount for a service he rendered to us previously.”
“You can’t extend that same discount to us?” Mitsuki asked politely.
"I'm afraid it would not be in keeping with our sacred practices." He smiled apologetically. "Also, he earned this voucher
by reading our sacred texts and passing an exam without the use of his chippy. Neither of you had the opportunity to do so, and there is no time for it now."
“So you won’t take us?” Siv asked, unable to keep the worry from his voice.
The cultist smiled. “Normally, I would not. However, I sense great character and purpose in you. So I am more than willing to accept you onboard our ship, provided you can adequately prove your devotion…”
“You’d think a cult so desperate for money wouldn’t bargain so hard,” Siv complained.
“I’m sure he doesn’t do so normally, sir. But you and Mits reek of desperation.”
“How much should I give?”
“Two hundred more, sir. That should match their standard rate, not including the deposit Wang had already given them.”
Siv passed along the hard credits. “Are we settled now?”
“In better circumstances, it would cover the both of you. But you did not arrive through the normal procedure. And you know, times are hard, and our ship is in need of many repairs. I’m sure you understand.”
Siv restrained a curse. “Of course.”
He passed over eight hundred more credits.
“I think you gave him too much, sir. Looking wealthy or overly charitable is risky.”
“I’m trying to buy his silence. And I don’t think these simpletons are going to rob us.”
“Never underestimate someone who might chuck you out the airlock, sir.”
“This is most generous,” Oktara replied. “We will put these funds to good use, spreading our word of peace and eternal bliss.”
“I hope our presence can be kept quiet,” Siv said.
“Oh, of course. We shall say nothing of having given you transport or having seen you, not now and not ever. We do not deal in secrets, lucrative though they might be, nor tolerate loose tongues within our order.”
“Thank you,” Siv said sincerely, though he had his doubts. “Silkster, is he telling the truth?”
“If they deal in secrets or sometimes turn in bounties, I’ve seen no evidence of it, sir. And does it matter at this point? They’re your best and perhaps only shot at reaching Titus II.”
“I know. I’m just hoping the extra credits I kicked in will be worth it.”
“You don’t have anywhere near enough to counter the bounties on your heads, sir. If they find out, they find out, and you will be at their mercy.”
“I would like to learn more about your unique faith,” Mitsuki said to Oktara, sounding almost sincere.
Siv understood the play. She was trying to buy their favor by showing interest in what they valued.
“Why, of course!” Oktara bounced on his heels. “I would love to tell you all about it. Many do not understand the gods we worship. They think science explains all that one might know about the wonderful giants that grace our systems. But we know better. We see into their mysteries. I know, I know. You think it strange now, but once you’ve learned more of our truths, I believe you will see us quite differently, even if you do not wish to join us.”
“I hope so,” Mitsuki said.
“How are you keeping a straight face, Mits?” Siv asked over their shared comm.
“It’s not that hard.”
“You should have waited and faked your interest once we’d gotten a chance to spend some time with them and feel them out.”
“Sivvy, I know what I’m doing. And I’ve got a good read on this one. Trust me.”
Master Oktara waved them forward. “Come aboard. We are only a few minutes from takeoff, but you should have plenty of time to stow away your things and find a seat. Sit anywhere you like. Only the bridge, engineering, and the inner sanctum are out of bounds.”
“There’s an outer sanctum we can party in?! Hells yeah! Break out the Aware, sir, and let’s party like it’s 4099.”
“Aware is for love and connecting, dumbass,” Mitsuki replied. “If you want to party, you need Revelry.”
“Whatever you need, Batwings. I can have whatever mental state I wish by executing a simple bit of code.”
“You mean you don’t have to be set to annoying asshole all the time?”
“Bite me.”
They followed Oktara into the aging ship. The interior was only marginally better than the exterior, with darkened walls, floors worn down to the grating substructure, and overhead lights that sometimes flickered. The leather on many seats in the passenger section was cracked or stained, and the bolted-down tables bore scratches from decades of use. In a lot of ways, it reminded Siv of the aging subway trains back in Bei on Ekaran IV, only it was cleaner.
The primary vibe the interior gave off was that of an ornate tomb or an ancient temple someone had dug up and repurposed into a starship.
The thousands of runes etched into the worn walls swirled around depictions of colorful planets. Here and there, hanging bronze plaques bore names. And in every section, the order’s sacred texts scrolled across a viewscreen in a loop.
All of the cultists they passed nodded to them and smiled but made no effort to converse with them.
They found lockers for their packs and gear, though they kept their neural disruptors with them, hidden inside their clothes. He was surprised they hadn't checked them or their packs for weapons.
They located a block of empty seats in the back, as far away from the others as possible, and settled in. Despite being in new surroundings and being unsure of the situation, Siv’s eyelids began to droop.
He stirred and sat upright. "I could use some rest."
“Given what I’m seeing, I’d rather sleep out here,” Mitsuki said. “No sketchy sleeping compartments for me.”
“It would be a lot easier to defend ourselves from here,” he replied. “If it came to that.”
The ship shuddered then bounced upward as its massive antigrav engines came online.
“Sir, there’s something not right about these people.”
“Thanks for pointing that out, Silkster. I would never have known otherwise.”
“It’s more than that, sir. Far more. This ship…” Silky sighed despondently and muttered something about rotten luck.
“Silkster, what’s the matter?”
“Sir, this ship is loaded with weapons.”
Siv sat upright. “Weapons?!”
Mitsuki thumped back into her seat, shaking her head. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“Hundreds of them, hidden in well-designed smuggling compartments. Plasma rifles, force weapons, explosives, force-shields, armor, and support systems. And no ordinary customs agent would ever detect any of it, or even suspect their presence.”
Mitsuki thumped a fist into the armrest of her seat.“‘Nevolence’s tits!”
“If not for running a level five on the ScanField-3, I never would have known either.”
“You didn’t run a level five from outside?” Mitsuki asked.
“A brief one, Wings. But I had to be on the ship to pick this up. And I can’t tell you why that is. Not yet.”
“So…they’re smugglers?” Siv asked.
“Not likely, sir, given the spread of equipment available and its arrangement into sets. The number of sets also closely matches the number of cultists onboard.”
“Should we abandon ship?” Mitsuki asked.
Siv took a deep breath. “I…I don’t know.”
The ion engines roared to life, and the starship began to maneuver as it prepared to burn into orbit.
“Decide fast,” Mitsuki said.
“What’s to decide?” Silky asked. “If they mean us harm, they’re not going to let you leave the ship, and fighting them off and running isn’t to our advantage either.”
“If it comes to a fight, getting our gear out of the storage compartments will be tricky,” Mitsuki said.
“Aside from Oktara, none of the cultists are armed,” Silky replied. “Currently.”
“Unless you’ve missed that as well,” Siv said.
“Yeah
,” Silky responded despondently.
“I can’t believe these simpletons pulled one over on you,” Mitsuki said.
"Though it may seem so to you, Batwings, given your limited skills and perception, I'm not perfect."
“I think it’s fair to stop calling them simpletons now,” Siv said.
“I’m close to isolating the frequency they’re using to throw off my sensor sweeps, sir.”
“You think there’s more?” Siv asked.
"We were forbidden to go into engineering or the inner sanctum, sir. The former appears perfectly normal on my scans, and the latter is empty. So what do you think?"
Siv leaned back into his seat and groaned. “I think we’re cursed.”
“So we’re just going to sit here and wait to see if they kill us or turn us in?” Mitsuki asked.
“I think that’s all we can do, Wings. But at least we’ll have the jump on them if it comes to it.”
9
Vega Kaleeb
Vega sat slumped with his back against the control panel in the engineering station of his ship, the Spinner’s Blade. For the first time in the century since his service to the Benevolence had ended, the thought “I’m lucky to be alive” coursed through his electronic mind.
One more shot to the head. That’s all it would have taken, and Mitsuki Reel had him dead to rights. But she fired on the chemical tanks instead. He guessed so she could avoid Faisal, his sky-blade combat cog, who was rapidly recovering.
Of course, the resulting explosion in the abandoned factory also should have killed him. He was lucky his prey hadn’t stuck around to finish him off, but then they weren’t in great shape themselves and also needed to avoid the authorities and the other factions pursuing them.
The cord linking Vega’s battery heart to the fusion drive thrummed with power. It had taken him fifteen incredibly frustrating minutes to repair the socket in his chest that the charging cord plugged into.
The steel beam that cracked his ribs had nearly crushed the socket. That would’ve knocked him out of the hunt and had him limping to the Fixers, begging for help and paying them an exorbitant fee. And hoping they didn’t decide to off him while he was weak.
Breaking Point Page 5