Lunar Crisis: Age of Expansion - A Kurtherian Gambit Series (Shadow Vanguard Book 2)

by Tom Dublin

  "Yeah." Jack clapped Tc'aarlat on the shoulder. "I wouldn't call her that to her face if I were you."

  Tc'aarlat opened his mouth to respond but Solo cut him off.

  "I'm sorry to interrupt, Captain Marber, but I thought you'd want to know that we are closing on our destination."

  "Thank you, Solo," replied Jack. "We'll come straight to the bridge."

  He and Tc'aarlat stepped out of the hangar, pausing to close the fake wall.

  Tc'aarlat kept his eyes fixed on the new Pegasus until the metal barrier blocked it from view.

  "Absolutely stunning!" he sighed. "I never thought I'd see anything quite as beautiful again."

  "Really?" asked Jack. "I got the impression you didn't really like him."

  Tc'aarlat scowled. "What? No, not him! I meant the—” He spotted Jack's smirk and chased him in the direction of the bridge.

  Moon of Persha, Maximum Security Prison, Visitor Entrance

  Trace Byrn flicked open the third button on her pale blue silk blouse and readjusted her push-up bra to ensure the maximum amount of cleavage was on view. She wanted Vimor to remember his first meeting with her for all the right reasons.

  She'd been in the line for security for almost thirty minutes now; the process was going slowly. One by one the inmates' visitors were searched and their identities were double-checked, and any items they had brought with them were confiscated until they were ready to leave.

  Which was why she had left her purse in a locker at the shuttleport.

  The line moved forward after the person at the front was finally given permission to pass through to the next stage of the security process.

  Pulling out a tissue she had tucked into her bra, Trace dabbed her forehead to remove the thin sheen of sweat that coated her skin. She swallowed hard. There was no way the security guards could detect the special gift she had arranged for him. Vimor had assured her that she was safe.

  Once their letters had progressed to a more personal level, Vimor had written that there was something he desperately wanted; something the overly-strict prison guards would confiscate on sight if she attempted to carry it through security in plain view.

  But he knew exactly how Trace could both acquire and smuggle in the object he desired.

  Vimor Malfic wanted a certain computer chip.

  Trace didn't understand why, but she was determined to go along with his request. She followed the directions cleverly hidden among his endless proclamations of love and desire.

  First she had to travel to the city of Ragin and locate a computer engineer in a rather seedy part of town. Once there, she was to give the computer wiz a set of detailed specifications. She didn’t understand them, but he assured her that the backstreet genius would.

  He had asked Trace to pay for the chip to be manufactured, insisting he would reimburse her for the cost ‘in more ways than one' when they finally met.

  Trace had needed a hastily-drawn bubble bath and total privacy to deal with her imagination’s reaction to that statement.

  A week later, she was to return to Ragin and collect a small silver computer chip about the size of a small fingernail.

  Then came the strange part.

  Vimor asked her to swallow it. It would require plenty of water, but the chip should slip down without causing her any unpleasant side-effects.

  Once the chip was safely inside her, she was to travel to the Moon of Persha and visit him. He promised her he had formed a friendship with one of the guards, who would arrange for them to be left completely alone for 'as long as necessary.'

  That mental image had provoked another urgent bubble bath.

  Trace wasn't entirely sure she could promise to—how could she put it—produce the computer chip whilst at the prison, but she had spent the intervening time consuming as much fiber-rich food as she could to ensure the necessary event took place.

  The tiny silver gizmo would require a thorough cleaning once it had reappeared, but that was a small price to pay to present the new love of her life with the gift he desired so much.

  The line moved forward again. Trace would be the next to pass through the metal detector and she felt her heart begin to pound in her chest.

  What would happen if the chip triggered the alarms? Would she be taken aside for a full body cavity search? If so, she hoped the guards wouldn't be too surprised at the scanty lingerie she had purchased especially for this visit.

  "Next!"

  Forcing herself to remain calm, Trace stepped forward, suddenly aware of the clack clack clack of her high heels on the stone floor of the visitor security zone.

  If she were going to be caught out for smuggling something inside, it would happen now.

  She stepped into the phonebooth-sized metal detector to be scanned.

  And nothing happened.

  No alarms, no flashing lights, no security personnel shouting and reaching for their sidearms.

  Nothing.

  "Step forward, miss."

  Trace did as she was asked and stood with her legs apart and arms outstretched as a pair of guards conducted a thorough and extremely personal body search.

  They found nothing more than the spare tissue tucked into the left cup of her push-up bra, which they handed back to her without comment.

  A moment later she was through.

  She'd done it. She had illegally transported contraband through prison security and was on her way at long last to meet the man of her dreams, Vimor Malfic, in the flesh.

  She wished she had the time to take a quick bubble bath.

  Moon of Hann, Blue Diamond Casino, Manager's Office

  "He's coming around."

  Lowlon Quell opened his eyes and found himself staring up at a ceiling painted deep maroon.

  Wherever he was, it wasn’t where he’d been.

  "How are you feeling, Mr. Quell?"

  "OK, I think..." groaned Lowlon. "What happened?"

  "I'm afraid you were taken ill," responded the voice. "Our security personnel were good enough to carry you to my office."

  Lowlon blinked hard, trying to identify his surroundings. He was lying on a plush red leather couch in a sumptuous office. On a desk made of some dark polished wood were some papers held down by a very expensive-looking fountain pen.

  He forced his eyes to focus on the blurry figures leaning over him. One of them was a smartly-dressed man he didn't recognize, but the other person he did know. She was the croupier who had dealt him the cards that had won him the jackp—

  "I won!" he yelled, sitting up quickly but immediately wishing he had stayed flat on his back.

  "Indeed you did, Mr. Quell," said the unknown , handing over a glimmering Blue Diamond chip with the casino's logo etched into it. "One million credits, no less. You're a very lucky person."

  Quell chuckled. "Luck had nothing to do with it." He accepted the chip and kissed it. "It all came down to years of study and skillful playing."

  "You're right, of course," the man agreed. "My apologies."

  Lowlon pushed himself onto his elbows. "And you are?"

  "Forgive me." The man bowed his head slightly. "I'm Thavo Domp, owner of the Blue Diamond Casino."

  This time Quell did sit up. "The Thavo Domp?!"

  The casino owner smiled broadly. "I see you've heard of me."

  "Heard of you?" exclaimed Quell, tucking the chip into his waistcoat pocket. "I've spent years researching you! You're my idol—a self-made man I've spent my entire adult life trying to emulate. In fact, I just finished reading your autobiography for the sixth time last week. Your photo on the back cover does not do you justice.”

  Quell squinted at Thavo Domp's face. "You look a lot older than your publicity photographs."

  Domp laughed. "They are rather out of date. I've been meaning to arrange a new photoshoot for some time."

  "So... My winnings?" asked Quell. "When do I get the credits?"

  "Whenever you want," promised Domp. "But surely there's no hurry. Stay awhile, pla
y a few more hands. You are, after all, one of our most accomplished customers."

  Quell felt his chest swell with pride, but he forced the sensation down. "I don't know if I should..."

  "Well, at least stay for a drink to celebrate your success," suggested Domp. "Nat," he began, turning to the croupier. "Please inform the bar staff that Mr. Quell's drinks are to be put on my personal account for the remainder of the evening."

  "Really?" exclaimed Quell. "That's great! There are a few cocktails on the menu I've been wanting to try, but I just couldn't afford them."

  "Well, now you can." The casino owner chuckled. "You are a millionaire, after all."

  "But they're still free, right?" Quell queried. He looked at the croupier. "You heard him say that, didn't you?"

  "Of course," Domp assured him. "Now, if you'd like to make your way back to the casino floor, I'll have Nat arrange for your winnings to be paid to you."

  Excited, Lowlon Quell jumped to his feet and hurried to the padded red leather office door. As he opened it he heard the unmistakable chatter, bells and music of the various games. Smiling, he scampered down the stairs to rejoin the fun.

  As the croupier started to follow him, Thavo Domp took her arm and pulled her toward him.

  "Ply him with drink and make sure he doesn't leave without losing the majority of those million credits," he hissed. "Or I'll call in the debt your father owes to me."

  Nat nodded, shaken. "Of course, sir."

  5

  Moon of Hann, Blue Diamond Casino, Gaming Floor

  High Priest Jolio Phisk strode in through the main entrance of the casino, ignoring the shivering but smiling showgirls in tiny sequined bikinis and elaborate feather headdresses posing on either side of the lobby.

  Inside, the sudden cacophony of slot machine jingles mixed with the sound of clattering coins caused him to wince. He always enjoyed his trips to the less moralistic of Taglen's twin moons, but it invariably took a short while to acclimate himself to the gaudy onslaught on the senses, especially after spending time in the pious atmosphere of the temple.

  He passed row after row of slot machines, each topped with flashing lights and a video screen on which one tiered Z-list celebrity or another shouted why gamblers should choose the one and only credit-winning system they alone endorsed as a way of passing the time and spending their salaries.

  Phisk shuddered at the sight of sleepy-eyed aliens from a dozen different worlds sitting on faux-leather stools, one hand or claw or tentacle clutching a large cup of coins while another appendage slid silver bits into the dazzling boxes of stolen dreams.

  This place would be perfect if it weren’t for the people.

  At the bar, he gestured to a gum-chewing barmaid presumably hired more for the expanse of her chest than her ability to mix drinks. "Who's the duty manager tonight?"

  "Zalah Gilt," drawled the woman, leaning forward so she could be heard over the deafening racket of a nearby arcade game tempting passers-by with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to win a speedboat.

  The movement caused her gargantuan breasts to test the mettle of her official Blue Diamond corset. Thankfully—for Phisk, at least—the corset won this particular bout.

  "Get him for me," he commanded.

  "Sure, honey," said the barmaid. "You wanna drink while you're waitin'?"

  Phisk shook his head and the barmaid shrugged and made for a phone receiver hanging next to the stockroom door at the back of the bar.

  "Hey, come on, pal!" slurred a Taglenian sitting two stools away. He had half a dozen empty shot glasses scattered on the bar in front of him and he was rolling a pair of yellow multi-sided dice. "You should have a drink."

  "No," said Jolio Phisk, flatly. "Thank you."

  But the drinker would not be deterred. "Celebrate with me! I jus' won a million fucking credits, you know!"

  Phisk regarded the man with a suspicious stare. "Congratulations."

  "Well, it was a million. But I lost abou' fif-fifty thousand on a hand just now, so I'm takin' a break to clear my head. Come on, have a drink with me. I'm payin'."

  Phisk didn't reply this time, but he didn't need to. A petite croupier with a pixie-like turned-up nose and a name tag which read Nat spotted the gambler and hurried over to escort him back to whichever gaming table was hers.

  "There you are, Mr. Quell!" she exclaimed. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Come back and play with us. We're due to make a big payout, and I have a good feeling about you and your lucky dice."

  Phisk watched as the man climbed down from his stool, stumbling slightly and having to be caught by the attractive croupier. "You're so nice to me." He grinned at the girl. "I think you're...you're jus' lovely."

  " I think you're lovely, too," promised the croupier, snatching up the yellow dice from the bar and hooking her arm through Quell's. "Now, come on before someone else wins that next jackpot."

  Amused by this miniature one-act play, Phisk watched as the uniformed girl steered her charge between the rows of slot-machines toward the slightly more sedate area of the casino floor where serious gamblers sat at any number of green-baize-covered tables.

  "Your holiness!" cried a voice from behind him.

  Jolio Phisk turned to find a slim man in a Blue Diamond blazer standing behind him. "Mr. Gilt," said the high priest, grasping the casino manager's hand and shaking it firmly. "Good to see you again."

  "Excuse the delay," Zalah Gilt offered. "You didn't warn us you were coming, so I had to arrange your room at short notice."

  He gestured for Phisk to lead on and the two men walked calmly toward the rear of the casino floor.

  "I didn't know I was coming, myself," Phisk explained, "but we had a decent collection at the temple and I thought, ‘On Persha's eyes, why not?’"

  "Why not, indeed?" Gilt beamed.

  They reached a line of four doors at the back of the vast room, each covered with the same deep-blue velvet as the walls to make them difficult to see from more than a few meters away.

  Gilt removed a card with a silver chip embedded in the plastic but paused before using it in the lock beside the nearest door. "Now, I'm afraid Chastity is away on leave for a few days since her mom is unwell, but I've hired a new girl in her place and I think you're going to like her a lot. Very lithe; amazing flexibility."

  Phisk scowled. "And the other?"

  Zalah Gilt smiled. "Slutella is ready and waiting for you, and I made certain she has a pair of fingerless gloves and a fresh selection of unwashed vegetables per your requirements."

  Jolio Phisk could barely contain his excitement as the casino manager turned to unlock the velvet-covered door.

  Polarso Major, Faithiola Township

  "Gilly Pradu!" announced Adina, reading the next name from the list on her clipboard. The young girl standing beside her gripped her free hand, eyes darting back and forth over the crowd of townspeople at the side of the field on which the ICS Fortitude had landed.

  "Here!" cried an anxious female voice. "We're here!"

  The crowd parted to allow a woman and man through to the front. They froze when they spotted Gilly with tears flowing down their cheeks.

  "Mama! Papa!" yelled the child, releasing Adina's hand and racing barefoot across the recently-cut grass.

  The mother dropped to her knees and spread her arms wide as Gilly approached. Soon the reunited family was lost in an embrace they had thought they would never share again.

  The father looked at Jack and Tc'aarlat, who were standing to one side. "Thank you!" he said emotionally, his voice cracking. "Thank you so much."

  "It's our pleasure," replied Jack, smiling.

  He turned to Tc'aarlat as the family made their way to the dusty road beyond the field, still holding onto each other. "Makes you feel good, doesn't it? Getting kids back to their families like this."

  The Yollin sneered. "It would, if it wasn't for Lord Golden Boy Von Fuck-trumpet over there."

  Jack followed Tc'aarlat's gaze to where the rest o
f the rescued children were gathered around Draven. The blond pilot was making the group laugh by telling them jokes and performing sleight-of-hand tricks with blades of grass and a silk handkerchief he'd had tucked into his jacket pocket.

  "Are you...jealous?" Jack inquired, trying his best to hide his grin.

  "Of course not!" spat Tc'aarlat. "But, look at him! Taking all the glory. Where was he when we were banging heads trying to get the location of the slave market or busy finding new and interesting ways to fuck up those bollock-faced jizz-jockeys who think it's okay to buy and sell kids for fun and profit?"

  Mist flew out the open doorway of the ship, soared over their heads, and landed lightly on Draven's shoulder, much to the delight of the gathering of children.

  Tc'aarlat growled beneath his breath. "Fucking typical!"

  "Ernil Morcab!" shouted Adina, looking at the group of children. A young boy around eleven years old flung his arms around Draven for a hug, then turned and ran to where Adina was waiting with an elderly lady.

  "Granny!" he cried excitedly.

  "That's enough!" barked Tc'aarlat. He stomped over to Adina and snatched the clipboard from her hands. "You take a break. I'll take over for a while."

  "No, it's okay," said Adina. "I can carry on."

  The Yollin fixed her with a hard stare. "I told you to take a break."

  "O...K..." said Adina, her eyebrows raised. "If you insist."

  "I do!" insisted Tc'aarlat. He glanced at the next two names on the list. "Laylo Kinna and Daw Restel." Two children broke away from the main group, looking warily at the crowd of locals as they tentatively made their way to the Yollin.

  "Hurry up!" snapped Tc'aarlat. "We haven't got all day to hand you back to your loving parents!"

  Shaking her head, Adina crossed to where Draven was now lying on the ground. The remaining half-dozen children had piled on top of him and were executing wrestling moves.

  "I can't tell who's having the better time," she commented extending a hand to help him up. "You or the kids."

  "Oh, it's definitely me." Draven smiled as he took her hand. He turned to the youngsters, who were waiting to see what he was going to do next to entertain them."