by Reiter
“My pleasure, Captain.”
“Please wake him up for me, Satithe, and then have the robots bring me Annsura.”
“She will arrive momentarily,” Satithe replied after delivering another shock to Vobis’ body. He convulsed in pain and writhed for a moment on the floor. Jocasta walked behind her desk and took out a pair of glasses and a bottle of rum. She poured herself a drink and took to her seat.
“You have to gather, sooner or later, that maybe you underestimated what you thought you were getting into. I mean, I get it. You look at the water in the river you need to cross, and you think to yourself, it doesn’t look that deep. One step later and the only sign that you’re there is the bubbles that pop once they reach the surface.” Leaning back in her chair, Jocasta put her feet up on her desk. “I am told that InvokeRs are among the smarter of the specie, but I’ve yet to see any of that from you or your late colleague.”
Vobis Slonn looked around the office. He cataloged each of the items on the shelves; from the books to the rolled up maps, to even the decanter of rum on the corner of the desk. “Pirates!” he said softly.
“Now see,” Jocasta said emphatically, “those are the very brains I was referring to! Now, why don’t you come over here, have a seat and a drink, and let’s chat for a moment.” Still looking around the room, Vobis did not see any weapons ports, so he did not know how to defend against whatever had blasted him. “Don’t bother,” Jocasta said as she poured the rum, “the system that runs this ship is smarter than you and me combined. And no, I don’t know how she microwaved you, but I’m pretty sure she can do it again.” Electricity arched over Jocasta’s head and she nodded, offering Vobis the glass. “Make that damn sure.”
Feeling he had little choice, Vobis took the glass and sat down in the chair he had been offered. He took a sip of the rum and swallowed. His glare grew stern as he breathed in and looked at the glass. “Smooth,” he whispered.
“Cleans the hull like nobody’s business,” Jocasta remarked as she poured herself another glass. She held up the bottle to suggest she would pour more for Vobis.
“Thank you, no,” he said softly as his breathing returned to normal. “And, after sampling this, I think I know why my glyph-trap didn’t kill you!”
“One of the many secrets pirates will take to their graves!” Jocasta quickly added.
“And to think, how many of those there are,” Vobis shot back, putting the glass down on the corner of the desk closest to him. “Pirate graves, I mean.” Jocasta laughed, slapping her leg.
“Two things, Abracadabra,” Jocasta giggled. “Everybody dies, so that grave snipe is at best pedestrian. And by pedestrian, I mean inane, asinine, imbecilic, trifling, and positively puerile!” Vobis tried to look unmoved by the display of intellect, but he was simply too surprised to hear it coming from the woman. “Not having a brain and not showing it off are two different things, Junior. Any spell-chucker worth his salt, and trying to remain alive aboard my boat, would practice that with serious haste!
“And number two, one more veiled comment like that… I’m gonna shove your wand so far up your ass you’ll be casting whenever you sneeze!” Vobis’ eyes sharpened as he came to look differently upon the woman speaking to him. “I will take your silence as a sign of hope that you are not irretrievably male. Because that’s the last ten-credit word you get!”
“I understand what you are saying… is it Captain?” Vobis inquired.
“It is,” Jocasta replied.
“But I do not understand why we are having this conversation,” Vobis voiced.
“We’re talking to keep me from shooting,” Jocasta explained. “You see, Vobis, yo–”
“How do you know my name?” Vobis jumped to ask.
“Vobis Slonn of the Easterville Slonn’s,” Jocasta recited from the reading of the file her First Mate had issued to her almost an hour ago. “Sandwiched in between sisters Avulara and Qausi. How are they, by the way?”
“I’d wager they are still rather put out with me,” Vobis answered. “Despite their best efforts, the Earl’s youngest son ran off with me and not either of them.”
“Apparently the Earl’s youngest son is a man who appreciates quality,” Jocasta said.
“All right, now I am thoroughly confused!”
“Don’t act like it’s your first time,” Jocasta shot back.
“I’m a little confused,” Jocasta admitted. “Unlike your fallen Spell-Casting colleague, you’re more in line with what I expect to be serving the Inner Rim Empire. Fine brown complexion, much like your Guardians, all handsome and huggable, a shame we had to meet this way.
“But you’re young… and obviously new to this sort of thing… you’re the perfect candidate for the Empire to use. The question is why would the Inner Rim make a move on an unknown like me?”
“And you actually think I am going to give it to you?” Vobis asked.
“What are you protecting with your silence, Vobis?” Jocasta returned. She got up from her chair as the doors to her office opened. She walked to receive Annsura who looked like she was recovering from her beat down fairly well. “A bunch of old sweaty men in their glowing pajamas? They’re the ones who got your Guardian killed, and you neck-deep in pirate matters.” Jocasta waved for the young woman to approach. “What do you think your loyalty will get you?”
Vobis quickly stretched his hand toward the desk. His battle wand flew from the desk toward his right hand. He turned, lifting his left hand over his head. Streams of electricity leapt from the highest corners of the walls, but they were collected in the center of Vobis’ raised palm. He turned his attention toward casting through his battle wand, pivoting in his chair to see that the woman was still facing the door to her office. Her gun, however, had been drawn and was trained on his head. It was not the silvery gun she had whipped across his head, but a smaller firearm that had some sort of tubing at the bottom of the handle which extended up the woman’s arm. There was enough dust in the room to where he could see the targeting laser coming from under the barrel.
Annsura’s mouth gaped open at the speed with which the gun had come away from the Captain’s shoulder holster. The young fighter had seen the look before, the very glare that was now being cast upon her. It was a look indicative of heightened perception; the eyes of JoJo Starblazer were set on Annsura Flynnos, but she was seeing the entire office. Annsura slowly lifted her hands to signify that she was not about to lend any aid to the obviously eager-to-die InvokeR.
“No, she wasn’t sweating a fight with a gladiator,” Annsura thought. “Not with hands that fast!”
“I get the feeling you won’t be able to hold off Satithe indefinitely,” Jocasta surmised. “And the only way she’ll stop trying to shock you is if you put the wand back on my desk. Then again, you could take your chances that your energy shielding will stop the projectile set to come out of this gun.
“What do you think, Annsura?” Jocasta asked. “You think I’m about to call a couple of robots to clean up the mess?”
“Can’t say for sure, Captain,” Annsura replied. “He looks sufficiently rocked by your display of speed and awareness. And I’d like to take this opportunity to establish that I took no action against you or your ship.”
“Those three hopefuls you mixed it up with are mine,” Jocasta said, looking deeply into Annsura’s eyes to see Vobis put the wand down. As soon as his hand came away from the wand, Jocasta adjusted her aim and fired. The image of Vobis releasing the wand gave way to the real Vobis gasping at the bleeding wound in his chest. “Some guys just don’t get it.
“Did I fail to mention the whole settings part about the slugs in this thing?” Jocasta asked as she turned to look at the InvokeR slowly fall to the floor. “You see, I gotta First Mate who really hates MajiK. I mean he hates it in the worst way. Personally, I think it’s an envy thing, but I can’t confirm it. Anyway, he’s got a bullet that actually tears right through MannA. I told him to call it a wand-cutter.”
/> “P-p-please,” Vobis struggled to speak as his body was quickly growing cold.
“Prognosis, Sati,” Jocasta commanded.
“An eighty-seven percent chance that he can be restored if he reaches the infirmary in the next ninety seconds,” Satithe reported. “For every thirty seconds thereafter, that number drops six percent.”
“Damn shame there’s a robot right outside the door,” Jocasta said, stepping back from the InvokeR and nodding her head. Her eyes quickly locked on Annsura’s and she holstered her pistol. She waited for the robot to collect the body and her office doors to close before she spoke. “Let’s try that again. Care for some rum?”
“That depends,” Annsura said, approaching the desk. “What did he say to your offer, and was it the right response?” Jocasta chuckled as she took down a third glass, filling hers and the one meant for Annsura.
“Smart girl… now anyway. But follow me on this one; you don’t know how to pilot that ship, but you were all over it. Kinda of makes you stop and think, right? While my First Mate was able to give me all kinds of goodies on Vobis the asinine InvokeR, all he would say of you was, ‘talk to her, Captain’. If nothing else, Z’s earned my respect… which means that you and I talk before I show you what happens when someone takes hand to my crew.”
“I might have struck first, Captain, but it was Olkin who made the first move,” Annsura argued. The young woman tried to relax in her chair and threw back the rum. She swallowed and Jocasta gauged her response to the drink. Annsura pressed her lips together and blew out slightly between her lips. The young woman’s brown eyes remained clear and steady. “Thanks for the drink.”
“No problem,” Jocasta replied. “Why were you climbing all over my fighter?”
“I was looking to see if the exhaust port was big enough for me to fit inside of,” Annsura replied. “I was looking for a hide-hole.”
“Pretty smart,” Jocasta admitted. “The plating around the engine port would keep you from being seen on a heat tracker, and the burn fumes would mask your scent.” She nodded, allowing the fact that she was impressed to register on her face. “I’m not sure about a hopeful turning tail and–”
“An unarmed hopeful on a ship that had just taken on borders,” Annsura argued.
“How did you know–”
“I was shadowboxing in the lower section of the ship,” Annsura explained. “I didn’t mess with the blocked off decks, but where I was working out was just a few meters from where that aperture opened up. I had just reached a comm-console when you made that pest control announcement.”
“But what if that had been on the level?!” Jocasta pointed out, leaning forward on her desk.
“You know how many of us were filthy with all kinds of bugs and what not when we were first brought aboard?!” Annsura retorted. “By the time we sat down to eat, I saw one gnat. One! This ship has never had a pest-control problem a day since it left the maker’s docks!” With her black hair almost in her face, Annsura realized the volume and tone in her voice and relaxed them both while tucking her hair behind her ear. “Depending on what you define as a pest, that is.”
Jocasta stood up and nodded. “I agree. Pits or dojo?”
“What?”
“Where you learned to fight,” Jocasta stated. “Pits or dojo?”
“Both,” Annsura admitted before lowering her head.
“Dojo master was running the Fight Con, right?” Jocasta continued, having seen the ploy played both masterfully and tragically bad. She deduced that Annsura must have been the one behind the door back at the Slaver’s Den. That might have been fortunate for everyone involved.
“Dojo mistresses,” Annsura corrected. “They only taught girls. I cost them a fight.”
“You lost a fight?!”
“I won, but I won too cleanly, showed too much form.”
“And that was on purpose?”
“They sold Dayshe!” the young woman snapped. “We were like sisters, and they did it just to make a point! I thought that one good point deserved another.”
Jocasta opened the drawer to her desk and pulled out a thin belt that had a curved-blade dagger attached to it. She tossed it at Annsura and started for the door.
“What’s this?”
“You’re no longer unarmed,” Jocasta replied. “But don’t let that make you go and get stupid. Hide-holes are good places to launch reprisal attacks from. You’ll make everything right between you and the three you mixed it up with. Consider it an apology to me for not fighting up to your potential. You’ll also be Z’s assistant when he begins formal instruction.”
“Yes, Captain.” Annsura said as she got up from her chair. “And thank you… for the rum… and the blade.”
“Thank me by getting better,” Jocasta said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to go see a man about a cause.”
“Permission to accompany,” Annsura requested with a bright smile on her face.
“You’ve got your orders, Cutter,” Jocasta said as she looked at the young woman. “Do you know what a Cutter is?”
“No, Captain.”
“The Captain’s Second Mate. See to it that I don’t need to replace or bury you.”
“Yes Captain!” Annsura exclaimed as she followed Jocasta out of the Ready Room. They took different directions as the new Second Mate needed to find three other crew hopefuls and Jocasta needed to find Z. One command keyed into her brace-com and she knew exactly where he was.
“Most ingenious,” Dungias thought as he activated the smelting process. The doors to the lab opened as he looked to the monitor. The scanners had been attuned to specifically find one sort of energy: MannA. As the materials were melted, the magnitude of the MannA trace emission fell, dying once the molten form was further heated, becoming liquid.
“Some like it hot,” Jocasta said as she could feel her body suit turning cooler.
“The heat helps with the smelting process, Captain.”
“I love the way you call me stupid without actually ever saying the word. What are you melting down?”
“The means by which the Imperials were tracking us,” Dungias explained. “Satithe, bring the stealth field down to thirty-five percent.”
“Lowering stealth field intensity,” Satithe reported. “Permission to access signal buoy?”
“Granted,” Dungias said, getting up from his chair. “Initiate self-destruct sequence after the gravimetric pulse.”
“Uh oh, there goes his bread and butter,” Jocasta said as she put her hand on her hips. “The moment you mention gravity, I know something’s wonky!”
“It would appear that we have a very motivated Temple Chevalier,” Dungias reported.
“Is there any other kind?”
“This one is looking for Nulaki,” he continued, “and he might have even added you to his list of desirable targets. Somehow he planted an enchanted credit on our Fazbred acquaintance. The enchantment was such that it transferred to anyone, Fazerian or Terran, the moment they touched it. From what I was able to read of the incantation, the enchantment was effective but not very powerful.”
“Okay, walk me through this one.”
“I had Satithe identify the Imperial groups that have been searching for us. As it turns out, the word group is slightly over stated. Neither of the signals we picked up was more than two ships.”
“Let me guess,” Jocasta said, smacking her hand against her forehead. “… the second ship was probably a surveyor or something of the like. Bigger than a shuttle, but not exactly a combative spacecraft. You can’t tell that from simple long range scans, though.”
“You seem familiar with this tactic, Captain,” Dungias said, slightly surprised with the things she had learned during the times he had been away from her while monitoring any of the other Endigun children, the rest of The Seven.
“It’s usually used by mercenaries guarding caravans,” she replied. “Kind of like an animal that can make itself appear bigger to ward off a would-be preda
tor. These boys wanted to scare us into moving too fast or too stupid so they could pounce.
“That also explains why the away-team numbers were so light,” she continued, and Dungias marveled at what the Beta-Forms had helped to create. “Two InvokeRs was probably all they could afford to send. If I had a ready crew, I’d have half a mind to reverse course and take on those so-called groups!”
“Then fortune smiles on all of us,” Dungias replied.
“Not for much longer, Z,” Jocasta said, punching her right fist into her left palm. “We’re bound for the Gulmar System.”
“A no-tech system,” he quickly added.
“With low-tech regions, First Mate. Not to mention an ideal place to pick up some serious crew candidates.
“And you know what else they have in the Gulmar System?” she asked, flashing a bright smile.
“Aside from human resources, the chief export of the region is precious gems,” Dungias stated.
“Precious gems!” Jocasta repeated with continued elation. “How long to Fassi?”
“Twenty-eight days at our current speed,” Dungias answered. “Shall I make preparations to–”
“Drill the current crew we have, Z,” Jocasta instructed. “Make ‘em sweat, cry, and bleed. Stuff ‘em in the regens and start all over again. We’ve got twenty-eight days to Fassi, two to three days before we can even Gate, and who knows how long to wherever Nulaki’s gotta go to once we get there. That means you’ve got at least a month to make it happen, First Mate. I know you can make a damn fine blaster. Let see you make some pirates in one month!”
“And that sudden change in your voice, Captain?”
“Just trying to get you fired up there, Z.”
“I am in service of my Captain,” he stated. “The performance of each of the crew will reflect on my ability and my dedication to my Captain and her ship. Just how do you think I will respond to this task?” Jocasta said nothing as Dungias walked out of the room.
Caught between pondering and wincing, Jocasta thought, “I wonder if I should start writing apologies or eulogies! Good thing we’ve got Christmas coming… might soften the blow a bit.” Jocasta frowned before shaking her head and turning to leave the room. “Nah, who am I kidding?! This is going to hurt all of us!”