Starblazer- Through the Black Gate

by Reiter

  Jocasta chuckled. “Even their names together sound cute together,” she thought.

  “No need, Tank,” she said. “They’re wrapping things up across the river. They both looked okay to me.” Jocasta put eyes on Silnee. The last thing she wanted was a love triangle in her crew.

  “Which means you owe me ten credits,” Silnee said to Mel.

  “We don’t know that Cutter made the first move!” Mel argued.

  “Yeah we do,” Pristacia and Jocasta said simultaneously. Silnee cackled and held out her hand for her winnings. Jocasta was relieved, but felt she had to verify.

  “So Tolip, you and Cupid were never…”

  “Good gods, no!” Silnee said quickly. “He’s too pigheaded for me, though that has been curbed recently. I guess we’ve just known each other longer than any of the others. You’re not the first to assume that. I had to tell Annsura it was okay to pursue what she was feeling for him because she thought the same.”

  “Ah hah!” Mel cried.

  “Ah hah, nothing. I told you about that before we even put the bet down. Pay up, Tank!”

  “Princess, nice eyes back there,” Jocasta applauded. “It looked like that man was going to propose before Tank cut him down.” Pristacia smiled and nodded. “Obviously your conversations with Z are going well.”

  “He says I have an acumen for emotional manipulation,” the younger woman shared.

  “Coming from Z, that’s saying quite a bit. Do me a favor, Princess, and head up river about two hundred meters. Bring Z and Nulaki in for me.”

  “Aye, Captain!” Pristacia replied with a bright smile. She ran to her mount and started up river without a saddle.

  Flapping wings brought everyone to a state of readiness but they relaxed when Llaz and Adleon landed. Adleon deactivated his weapon and smiled at Jocasta. “Apparently they’ve had dealings with Chevaliers in the past.”

  “Funny that we didn’t smell that on them then,” Jocasta returned.

  “Captain!” Adleon cried out and Jocasta held up her hands and apologized for her comment. Everyone who heard it knew it was not a genuine apology and silently they wondered if the Captain was pushing the young man for a particular reason. Whatever the answer, it would be some time before she would get anything more than a verbal response out of him; the memory of the last time he lost his temper was still too fresh in everyone’s mind. Jocasta did not keep her mind on the matter for too long. Z and Nulaki had been successful in their aims, and now they could all be about the business of getting Nulaki to his destination. The sooner that could be done, the sooner Jocasta would find herself on her way to Black Gate.

  “At least… that was the plan… it seemed like a good plan,” she thought as she looked at Pristacia riding back. Apparently her manipulation skills were off for the moment. Her big brown eyes met with Jocasta’s blue, and nothing but major concern immediately registered. Jocasta turned to see Nulaki riding on a black horse. Everything about the accoutrements of the animal screamed money; even the way it ran over the ground demonstrated the sort of training that only the wealthy could afford. “… but then a bug came into my life… and I still don’t know why I didn’t squash him when I had the chance.” Behind Nulaki was Dungias, driving a covered holding cart. The bars quickly gave its function away, and it was piled to capacity with bodies. Rope had been stretched between the bars, giving those riding something to hold on to as the cart probably had to move faster than what could be considered normal. Attached to the rear of the cart was another covered cart, and then another sans any sort of covering. The second carried more slaves while the third was the catch cart they had spotted earlier.

  “I trust you left the merchants and the mercenaries… or are they in there too?” Jocasta spoke to Nulaki as she walked by his horse, stabbing him with a very angry stare. Nulaki stammered for a moment and then opted to simply dismount.

  “I thought you guys were only going to grab the ones who owned those belts,” Ephaliun said as he took hold of the reins.

  “That was the plan,” Nulaki said softly, but Jocasta could still hear him. “But plans change.”

  “I’ll show you some change,” Jocasta muttered as she quickly walked toward her First Mate. Yelling at Nulaki would gain her nothing… but Z was her First Mate – he knew better, and she was going to communicate that to him in abundance.

  “Please!” one woman cried out, reaching out between the bars. “Please, see to his wound. He was poisoned!”

  “Z?” Jocasta said, looking up at the Malgovi.

  “I assure you, Captain, I am all right. The agent might prove fatal to humans, but to a Malgovi trained in the arts of the Traveler–”

  “So, Travelers can just sweat out poison?!”

  “Effectively speaking, yes,” Dungias said as he climbed down from the seat. Jocasta studied the way he moved. He favored his right arm, but only slightly. Nothing else looked different about him.

  “He took a bolt intended for me,” the woman cried. “Please don’t let him die!”

  “Okay, let’s try the naval approach to this,” Jocasta said, taking a step back. “Report!”

  “We found out why there were so many mercenaries,” Dungias said as he reached up with his right hand and pulled down the covering. “Apparently there was a great deal of worth to be guarded.”

  “Oh, Momma!” Jocasta whispered, looking at a collection of people who were at the very least attractive. Aside from the few wearing heavy chains, they were young, clean, and smelled like the flower section of Z’s arboretum. None of them had short or unkempt hair. Most were females with only six or seven males, but even they were gorgeous. “Oh, I hate you, Rouge.”

  “Captain?”

  “She had a passion for all things Old Earth,” Jocasta explained. “Especially old movies. Right now the only thing going through my head is a woman singing the word ‘yes’ as she picked her paramours for an upcoming orgy.”

  “That sounds like an interesting movie,” Dungias replied with a slight frown.

  “It’s all in the context, Z.”

  “If you look at the base of each cart,” Nulaki spoke up as he approached. “You’ll see a black flower. That is the marker of a man who calls himself the Sultan of Cashmere. These people were intended to… refresh his harem.”

  “Indeed,” Dungias said, rubbing his bandage. The movement caught Jocasta’s eye.

  “Z, you’re certain…”

  “There is some degree of discomfort, Captain,” Dungias explained. “The bolt-head was spaded and skin was torn upon penetration. But I promise you the poison has run its course.”

  “Couldn’t manage a cleaner block?” she spoke softly enough for only the two of them to hear.

  “My hands were full at the time, Captain,” Dungias replied as he walked toward the rear of the first holding cart. Nulaki was quick to draw closer to Jocasta.

  “Simple question, Captain,” Nulaki whispered. “Where did you find him and why did you take only one?”

  “We found each other,” she answered, “and there was only one available. The Rims could only stand one of them at a time, I guess.”

  “He held off the entire rear regiment by himself while I hooked up the second cart,” Nulaki shared. “It took me about thirty seconds because the damn thing is so heavy. The last cart is heavier, and it only took him a swift kick and swing of that stick.”

  “Z would advise you not to measure yourself by comparison,” Jocasta replied, turning to go back to the encampment. “You’re a thief… he made you weapons and tools… the man values what you can do. I suggest you do the same.” Stopping and looking over the camp, Jocasta’s eyes squinted. “By the by, did you see him get hit?”

  “The caravan taskmaster declared the goods compromised,” Nulaki stated. “… and if the Sultan couldn’t have them, no one could. The bottoms of the carts are fitted with oil containers, and they had laid trails of oil along the ground leading into the camp. They lit the fuses. Z grabbed mercs to
smother the flames before they could reach the carts. He was choking two of the last mercs when the sniper got off the shot. I took the guy down with a calling card shuriken, but not before he fired.”

  “If he was engaging the mercs, what were you doing?”

  “My prize is in the second cart,” Nulaki explained. “Though it’s more like a gift to you.”

  “You think a slave is a gift to me?”

  “No, of course not! Since this is a dim-tech zone, people around here use MajiK like it’s going out of style. I brought you a Living Key!”

  “A key to what?”

  “I’m not sure what all we tripped across, but that key can open a door to a majikul pocket that I believe we will find filled with a fitting pirate’s booty!” Jocasta looked at the second cart as Nulaki pointed out the Living Key. He was clean, round, and simple looking man who wanted everyone to believe that he was meditating. “It may sound difficult, but all we have to do is find the way he opens that pocket and–”

  “Take it easy, Nulaki. I’m sold. And it just so happens we have our hands on an expert with pocket dimensions.”

  “We do?” Nulaki asked and Jocasta looked at the thief. He was wearing new belts, but all of his weapons were showing. It was then that Jocasta decided to look at everyone in her group. Cupid’s quiver, Cutter’s knife belt, Tank’s Panzer… none of them had the surprises she wore around her waist. She smiled at Dungias’ silent praise and decided she would let him work all the gadgetry he wanted… for anyone he wanted to work it for.

  “Yes, Mr. Conadier, we do.” Jocasta resumed her walk. “And I won’t go into how matters between you and this Sultan seem very personal. I’m sure that when you’re ready, you’ll go into detail about it. However, the next time you get me or mine involved, blindly, into something you’re stirring up, getting away from the people you piss off will be the least of your worries. Now I would guess that the list of people who have ever caught you is very short. Note that between me and my crew, we’re on that list… twice!” Nulaki watched the woman walk away, taking to heart everything she had said. She was still talking, which meant she was aggravated and not agitated. He was definitely walking a very thin line.

  “The mysterious Captain Starblazer, and the even more mysterious Z,” Nulaki thought. “I’ve pissed off some teams in my time… need to make sure this tandem isn’t one of them!” Turning to walk back to the carts, Nulaki jumped to see Dungias standing right there; he had come within centimeters of running into the man. He looked up into the gold eyes of the Malgovi Traveler and started to speak. Dungias put his finger to his own lips, giving the sign for the thief to remain silent.

  “I have come to understand a great many things,” Dungias stated. “One of which is that the First Mate is cognizant of so much more regarding the affairs of the crew than the Captain will ever know. I see no problem with continuing that tradition. But I will not keep secret those things which might bring this crew, this Captain, or her ship into great peril. I do not speak the language called Fazklik proficiently, but I know the word for ‘brother’. It came from one of the females just before the word for ‘silence’ came from you. You have until mid-day, Conadier.” Dungias walked around Nulaki and the Black Scarab turned to his right. It was only about an hour before sunrise.

  No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.

  Heraclitus

  (Rims Time: XII-4202.01)

  “Sorry about the pacing, people,” Jocasta said as she threw her leg over her mount to once again sit in the saddle.

  “We’re all fine here, Captain,” Mel replied. “Remember, Z got us used to a thirty-hour day on four hours of sleep. We’ve had three good rest stops today. I’d say that leaves us with about a half-tank left.”

  “Says the man who’s riding in a wagon,” Silnee shot back. “Try riding one of these things all day. That said, Captain, none of us are dropping.”

  “Appreciate that, Tolip. Cutter, please take point. Llaz will flank you. Cupid, use whatever you know to make us harder to track. And talk as you’re doing it, Princess could stand to expand her knowledge base; which means at some point the pair of you need to go over what you did with Z.” Jocasta urged her mount on and everyone went off to their respective chores. Dungias lifted up his arm and visibly tapped his brace-com as Olkin and Pristacia rode past. They both nodded and established an open channel with him as they rode.

  Before too long, the group was moving at a very good pace. Nulaki looked around to make sure he recognized the people he was traveling with. He had thought they were crewmen on a spaceship. At the moment they appeared to be hardened wranglers chasing down a fleeing bounty. They did not know how to ride all that well, but that did not keep them from urging their mounts to keep a driven pace. When they were not riding, they were jogging and doing so at a healthy clip. Falling back on their training, the new crewmen had implemented Dungias’ rest-and-work schedule. This often left the point and rear placements working alone, but the First Mate had links to everyone in the group. During their individual rest cycles, a crewman would take a nap in the back of one of the wagons. Five hours into the regimen, Nulaki was glad when Dungias declared a rest stop. He tended to each of the animals, checking their legs and rubbing them down.

  Jocasta took up a position near the river and splashed her face with the cool water before taking out her medical kit. “Everyone take a dose of supplements,” she commanded. “Distribute the meat and rations to the slaves.”

  “I’d just as soon eat outside of this cage,” one woman cried out.

  “Fine, get out and eat then,” Jocasta shouted. “Until you can do that on your own power, you’ll eat when and where I tell you. Keep it up and I’ll climb in there and show you how to eat with no teeth!”

  “Are you certain you are not going too easy on the slaves, Captain?” Dungias asked as he started rubbing down her mount. The animal was very appreciative of the touch, and nuzzled Dungias as he worked.

  “The more they get out and walk around, the more work Cupid’s got to do to cover our trail,” Jocasta said. “And once they get out, trust me, then it will be ‘can I take a bath’ or ‘can I wash my hair’. We don’t have time to take it soft, Z.”

  “You know you have my loyalty, correct?”

  “Z, I question my loyalty to me before I question yours!”

  “Then please know that right about now, you also have my pride.” Jocasta looked over and Dungias’ eyes were upon her as he continued to work. “It is difficult to be human; emotion tends to outweigh reason, making things problematic. But you manage it with distinction.” A slight smile formed on her face and she nodded her acknowledgement. She turned in the other direction as Llaz came riding back into camp. He was getting the hang of riding more quickly than any of the others, save Olkin who had probably hunted from a mount.

  “I’ve got good news, bad news, and more good news,” Llaz said as he dismounted. Dungias reached for the reins and the young man gave them to him without breaking stride in reaching Jocasta. “We’re going to hit a downgrading slope in the next hour and then it drops down into the desert again. We lose the river, but the sand is better for our mounts, right?”

  “Did you happen to see those carts? Those wheels are not made for sand.”

  “There’s a road that cuts right through,” Llaz quickly offered. “It’s wide enough and definitely looks sturdy enough for the big carts.” Dungias gave a disapproving ‘hmmm’ and Jocasta sighed, frowning as she looked at the river. Looking back between the two of them, Llaz was confused. “What? What did I miss?”

  “You did fine, Llaz,” Jocasta said, giving him a consoling pat on the arm. “It’s just that anyone familiar with this region and giving chase knows exactly where we’re going to be. We wasted time trying to mask our trail. Damn good thing Z set the pace that he did, because that’s the only cushion we’ve got.”

  “And we won’t have it too much longer,” Dung
ias said as he looked up. He had to don his goggles to get a clear picture, but he could see a caravan mercenary riding a large bird. “We can try, but that bird is out of gun-link range.”

  “And flying higher and faster than our bats can manage,” Jocasta added. A loud, popping sound made everyone look back to the makeshift stopping point. Mel was in the back of the wagon, in his chair and lowering his rocket launcher. His mouth was moving, rooting the rocket he had fired to reach the target. They saw the explosion before they heard the boom. Mel had missed, but the concussion of the blast knocked the rider out of his saddle.

  “Oh, that’s a long wait for a bad ride,” Jocasta said, watching the man fall to his death. The bird circled for a moment and then turned westward. “Nice shot, Tank,” she shouted.

  “But I missed.”

  “The rider fell off. Could have been the bang or you just scared the crap out of him. Either way, that’s one message not getting through.” Jocasta turned to look at Dungias and spoke very softly. “I would’ve sent more than one if I had the resources.”

  “The feed stores they had with them would suggest there was more than one bird,” Dungias advised.

  “Which means we took out the one who flew the most direct route,” Jocasta declared. “How much longer until we reach your stop, Nulaki?”

  “I figure two days after we reach desert sands,” Nulaki answered.

  “Cupid, any sign of hell hounds on our trail?”

  “Nothing inside five to six hours, Captain.”

  “Hmmm,” Dungias said, looking at the carts and then the river. He brought his right arm to his stomach and propped his left elbow on top of it. His lips pressed against his left hand and he gave another, “Hmmm.”

  “Gods know I love that look,” Jocasta whispered.

  “What’s that look?” Llaz asked.

  “The one that comes right before he amazes me,” Jocasta said, ushering Llaz back to the group. “Come on, let’s give him room to think it out.”