by Tom Dublin
With that he stomped out of the galley.
Sighing, Jack jumped to his feet. "I'd better..."
"It's okay." Adina smiled. "I'll stay here with Callis."
The captain nodded and hurried after Tc'aarlat. "It's loose lips, you bozo!"
Moon of Hann, Red Light District
Nerk Wassel scurried beside Vimor Malfic, keeping his eyes fixed on the pavement and trying hard to ignore the wolf-whistles and catcalls of passers-by.
"Hey, sweetie! Your place or mine?"
"Woohoo! Get a load of that guy over there!"
"Yeah, work it, baby!"
The lime-green rubber jumpsuit was the only outfit in Mildew Fester's wardrobe that had come anywhere close to fitting him.
Worse, now that Malfic had shaved his beard, Wassel could clearly see his captor's satisfied sneer as the suit squeaked and farted with each of his hurried steps.
The guard tugged on Malfic's sleeve. "Can you at least slow down a little?" he demanded. "I get that you're in a hurry, but this isn't exactly the easiest gear to move in."
For the past two blocks Wassel had been attempting to walk with his legs as wide apart as possible. This had the desired result of reducing the embarrassing noises emanating from the suit, but made it look as though he had recently soiled himself.
Malfic's response was little more than a snarl and he pointed to a bright animated sign halfway along the next block displaying a shimmering blue gemstone.
They had arrived at the Blue Diamond Casino.
ICS Fortitude, Bridge
Tc'aarlat stormed onto the bridge and made straight for the navigator's seat, where Draven was reading a page of text on a tablet.
"Give me that!" barked the Yollin, snatching it from Draven's hands and hurling it to the ground. The gadget shattered into pieces.
"What did you do that for?" demanded Draven, jumping to his feet.
"You shouldn't be reading that stuff!" yelled Tc'aarlat. "That is top-secret information for official members of this team!"
Draven scowled. "My emails are top secret?"
Tc'aarlat's mandibles quivered. "Your emails?"
"Yep," nodded Draven. "I thought I'd check my inbox while you lot were busy with that kid."
Tc'aarlat blinked.
"Oh, and I hope you don't mind," continued Draven, "but I couldn't get my tablet to connect to the ship's network for some strange reason—so I borrowed yours."
Teeth clamped tightly closed, Tc'aarlat looked down at the broken glass, cracked plastic, and smashed circuit boards that had made up the device. "No, that's fine," he croaked. "Help yourself."
"I see you two are getting along better now," Jack remarked as he strode through the doorway, sat in the pilot's seat, and spun to face his console. "Solo, can you give us the lowdown on the info Nathan sent over regarding the planet Taglen and its twin moons, please?"
"Of course, Captain," the EI responded. "One second while I compile the relevant intelligence."
Jack glanced down at the shattered tablet as Tc'aarlat slowly took his own chair. "You'll want to get that cleaned up before someone steps on it and hurts themselves."
Tc'aarlat nodded. "I'll get to it in a moment."
He leaned toward Jack, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. "Do you think we should be reviewing this stuff with you-know-who here?"
Jack glanced at Draven, receiving a friendly smile in return. "Hmmm... You're right," he replied, thoughtfully. "This is delicate info and should be for official members of the Shadows only."
"Exactly!" hissed Tc'aarlat. The Yollin reached into a small bowl of the treats he shared with Mist and popped one into his mouth.
"Leave it to me," said Jack. He spun in his chair again, this time to face the navigation desk. "Draven, how would you feel about becoming part of the team until we've got this prison break thing under control? You'd become an official member of the Shadows."
Tc'aarlat almost choked. "WHAT?"
"I'd love to, Jack, thank you," Draven replied. "As long as that's all right with Adina and Tc'aarlat, of course."
"I'm sure Adina won't have a problem with it at all," insisted Jack. "Tc'aarlat?"
The Yollin's mandibles were quivering. "No, that's perfectly fine," he said as calmly as he could. "You know me, Jack—the more, the murderer!"
Jack frowned. "I think you mean, 'the more, the merrier.'"
Tc'aarlat spun back to face the viewscreens. "I know what I mean," he muttered under his breath.
Solo's face appeared on the screens. "I have that data for you now, Captain."
Jack and Draven grabbed their tablets to take notes. Tc'aarlat sighed and folded his arms.
"The planet of Taglen," Solo explained, "suffered centuries of civil war, with opposing political parties raising armies in an effort to eradicate their enemies and seize control."
"Sounds like a fun place," commented Draven.
"The political parties met many times for peace talks, calling ceasefire after ceasefire, but nothing held longer than a few weeks. Taglen appeared to be destined for self-destruction."
Jack looked up from his tablet. "So, what happened?"
"Religion happened," replied Solo. "With the two political parties at a stalemate, a third movement rose to fill the power vacuum—a nonpartisan faction dedicated to the planet's then-undersubscribed faith worshipping the twin Goddesses of Persha and Hann."
"A holy binity," Tc'aarlat put in.
Jack's brow furrowed. "Binity?"
"Sure," said Tc'aarlat. "The Christian religion you humans brought from Earth has a holy trinity—father, son and holy ghost—and this belief system has two deities. So, a binity."
"Does it work like that?" questioned Jack. "And, more importantly, how the hell do you know this stuff?"
Tc'aarlat shrugged. "I'm smarter than I look."
Jack turned back to the viewscreen. "Thank Heaven for that."
"Actually, Heaven is a concept the Taglen religion does not have," corrected Solo. "At least, not as humans understand it."
"They don't believe in an afterlife?" Draven asked.
"In a way, Captain," replied Solo. "Taglens believe if they spend their lives following the three strict commandments laid down by the Goddess Persha, they will spend eternity in the company of her sister Hann, immersed in pure unadulterated pleasure."
"She's the fun one, then," offered Jack.
"I prefer the sound of Hann over her repressed sister," said Tc'aarlat.
Jack nodded in agreement. "And this system works?"
"It certainly appears so," replied Solo. "Taglen has been at peace for almost three decades now."
"And the moons?" said Draven.
"They are like their namesakes," explained Solo. "The Moon of Persha is home to one of the most heavily-guarded high-security prisons in the sector."
"And yet that Malfic guy broke out of there," Jack reminded them.
"He did indeed," confirmed Solo. "It is possible he may have made for the Moon of Hann, where there are few laws. The entire moon is given over to self-gratification and fulfillment. If there is a pastime you enjoy, no matter how depraved, it can be catered to on Hann."
"Sign me up for a two-week vacation!" Tc'aarlat chuckled. "After weeks on the trail of those slave traders I could go for some sex, drugs, and Tootsie Rolls."
Draven frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but Jack raised a hand. "Best not to ask."
"What are your orders, Captain?" queried Solo.
Jack thought for a moment. "I think it would be a good idea to head for the planet rather than either of the moons. Nathan apparently suspects Malfic will still be somewhere in the local system. Taglen seems as good a place to start as any."
"We're heading for Taglen then?" Adina asked as she and Callis stepped onto the bridge. "What's the plan there?"
Jack spun to face the two women. "Go change into your Sunday best. We're heading to church!"
10
ICS Fortitude, Adina's Cabin
"Try this one," she said, holding the garment up in front of Callis. "It should about be your size."
The teenager took the dress and stared at it. "I don't think so," she said, wrapping her arms around herself. "It's lovely, but I don't think it's right for me."
Adina sat on her narrow bunk and patted the blanket to indicate Callis should sit beside her.
"How long have you been wearing this thing?" she asked, gently adjusting the shoulder of her ragged dress.
Callis shrugged. "They took my clothes when I was first captured. I had a plain green dress for the first couple of years, but when I grew out of that—"
"They gave you this?" asked Adina.
"Not exactly," Callis replied. "There was another girl—Elva. She got sick and..."
The teenager fought back her tears. "I took this dress from her before they took her body away."
"Where did they take her?"
This time Callis couldn't stop the tears. "There were a handful of kids who died during the time I was there. We asked if we could bury them."
"And did they let you?"
"The first couple of times, yes. We were staying in an old abandoned cabin in the woods at the time. It was miles from anywhere and we found this little glade—just a patch of forest with fewer trees, you know? There were wildflowers growing at the edges.
"We took turns digging until the holes were deep enough, then we held hands and said a few words. We knew it wasn't a real service, but it was the best we could do."
"I'm sure it was beautiful."
"Then they took us to that warehouse in the city," Callis continued. "After that, they just took away the body of anyone who didn't make it. They didn't allow us to go with them so I don't know where they... How they..."
Adina wrapped an arm around Callis' shoulders and hugged her tightly. "You've been through so much," she murmured softly. "But you're free now, and you have to start enjoying that freedom."
Callis was silent for a moment. "I... I'm not sure I know how."
"Well," suggested Adina. "Changing your clothes is as good a place to start as any. Come with me."
She tossed the dress onto her bed, then took the girl's hand and led her out of the cabin and along the corridor to the ship's crew's bathroom.
"But first, you should take a long hot shower." She spun the dial to start the flow of water. "I'll go grab you a towel."
Moon of Hann, Blue Diamond Casino, Private Lounge
Jolio Phisk stepped out of the shower and called for one of the young females lounging on the bed in the adjoining room to hand him a towel.
"Thank you, my dear," he said, eagerly eyeing her naked frame as she wiggled back onto the bed. "I shall pray hard to the Goddess Persha for your redemption."
As always, Phisk had gotten more than his congregation's credits' worth from the casino. The girls had performed extremely well, especially the newcomer—a petite rose-scaled Snowbiral named Klarvorn. In fact, she had been so creative and enthusiastic the high priest was considering her as a permanent replacement for Chastity.
As he dried his skin he activated his tablet and brought up the remaining balance on his account.
Perfect! He had more than enough credits left to enjoy the rest of his stay. Fine food, good wine, and ample time to play the tables. He hoped to win a sizable amount to take back to the temple on Taglen. And if he didn't, so what?
It wasn't as if he were gambling with his own money.
Once he was dressed he tipped the girls and opened the door to the soundproofed room, allowing the noise of slot machines, jingling coins, and crowing croupiers to wash over him. He stood there for a moment breathing it all in.
Sometimes it was good to be a priest.
He made for the nearest card table, only to be stopped by an extremely large man in a tight-fitting suit. He was carrying a cracked leather sports bag and accompanied by a smaller companion who appeared to be dressed as a rubberized frog.
"You Gilt?" the giant rumbled, placing a huge hand on Phisk's shoulder.
The high priest glanced down at it disdainfully, but the large man did not remove it. "No, I am not," he replied, scanning the room.
"You will find Zalah Gilt over there by the bar," he added, pointing to where the floor manager was standing.
The huge figure grunted what may have been his thanks and strode over to Gilt, his lime-green sidekick scurrying after him with burning cheeks and eyes fixed firmly on the well-worn carpet.
After brushing imaginary debris from his shoulder Jolio Phisk completed his journey to the Make Twenty-Eight table, taking his seat just as the previous game came to a close.
This appeared to be a matter of dismay for one of his potential fellow gamblers, who began to shout angrily and reached across the table to where the female croupier was adding his lost chips to her tray.
"No!" he cried, lunging out with his hand. "I don't care if I went over twenty-eight! I demand to play again. I'm a valued customer, remember? I won the jackpot, for fuck's sake!"
"Mr. Quell!" snapped the croupier. "If you do not moderate your behavior I shall be forced to call security!"
Phisk spotted two burly uniformed men striding in their direction and decided to switch to a different table, making a mental note to write a sternly-worded letter to the casino's owner once he was back at home.
The Blue Diamond used to be the one establishment on Hann where one could be certain of avoiding the party-seeking vermin who perpetually flooded the moon.
If it wasn't for the quality of the girls and the thickness of the dirt on the unwashed vegetables the place provided, he'd be searching for a new sanctuary already.
"Get off me!" roared a furious voice. "Nat, get Mr. Domp for me right now! You people can't treat me like this!"
"Mr. Quell! Lowlon! Please calm down!"
Jolio Phisk rolled his eyes as the scuffle at the Make Twenty-Eight table escalated. The muscled security officers were now trying to drag the aggrieved gambler away from the croupier and her chips tray—and that brought him to a decision.
Tonight he'd be staking the temple's accumulated funds on whichever game was in the quietest area of the casino.
ICS Fortitude, Bridge
"What is that thing?" breathed Callis as she and Adina stepped onto the bridge.
Jack spun in his chair to look the two women up and down. "Hey, I said we were going to church, not some high-class fashion show!"
Her cheeks burning, the teenager tried to stop herself from smiling but failed miserably. Instead, she glanced away from the image of the vast gate filling the room's viewscreens.
"She looks great, doesn't she?" Adina smiled and Callis blushed harder. "There was a real beauty hiding beneath all those scowls."
"You don't scrub up too badly yourself," commented Draven from the navigator's seat.
Adina managed to keep her face from flushing but executed a small curtsey by way of a thank you. Having loaned her favorite dress to Callis, she had chosen a deep blue suit for herself, which she had complemented with a crisp white blouse and fashionable black shoes.
"It's just a little something I threw together." She shrugged.
"Bistok bollocks!" exclaimed Tc'aarlat. "I've never been one to get space-sick, but if you don't all stop with the soppy slushy stuff I'm going to end up smothered in regurgitated raal hawk snacks!"
SQUAAAWWW!
Mist stepped from foot to foot on her perch as she glared down at her owner, repeatedly clenching her talons.
"I think you just confessed to stealing her treats," said Adina. "And watch your language, please. We have a young person on board!"
Draven teasingly ran his fingers through his thick blond hair. "It's kind of you to say so, but I'm actually quite a bit older than I look. I think a lot of it is down to my moisturizing regime."
Callis giggled. "I don't mind,
really," she said to Adina. "I heard a lot worse from the traders when they dealt with slave owners who didn't pay on time."
"That may be," said Jack, "but once we pass through this gate we have less than an hour's flight to Taglen and church."
He spun to face his Yollin copilot. "I need everyone to be on their best behavior."
"Why did you look at me when you said that?" demanded Tc'aarlat.
Jack shrugged. "I wonder..."
"There's no need to worry," countered the Yollin. "I'll be as good as mold."
Jack sighed. "The phrase is 'as good as gold.’"
"Gold?" queried Tc'aarlat. "As in the metal? What's good about that?"
"It's expensive," replied Adina. "And pretty."
"Pfft!" Tc'aarlat scoffed. "You wouldn't say that if you had grown up in a house made of the stuff."
Draven's eyes grew wide. "Wait, you grew up in a solid-gold house?"
Tc'aarlat nodded. "At least until my four-legged family decided it was too much of a scandal to keep me around. Then I was disowned and shoved off to a grotty boarding school to be savagely bullied."
"Thank goodness it didn’t have any lasting effect on your personality," muttered Jack beneath his breath. "We'd better—”
"Wait," interrupted Adina. "I still want to know why Tc'aarlat thinks the human phrase is 'as good as mold.' What could possibly be good about mold?"
The Yollin's mandibles quivered with joy as he explained, "It's the tangiest of all spices. You clearly couldn't taste the individual ingredients in the traditional Yollin stew I made last week."
"You put mold in our food?" Adina cried.
Tc'aarlat nodded again. "Of course! It's a rare delicacy back on Yoll, but we've got a seemingly endless supply of the stuff growing in that disused cold storage room at the rear of the fourth-floor cargo hold."
Adina clamped a hand over her mouth. "I think I'm going to puke!"
"Now you know how I feel when you lot pay each other sickeningly sweet compliments!" Tc'aarlat stated.
The three original crew members began to talk rapidly over one another.
"We need to have a talk," insisted Jack with a disgusted expression. "If you think you can just add any old shit to our food..."