The Space Pirate 1 (13 page)

“Come again?” Charley asked.

“Strapped to the bulkhead,” Tyran said impatiently. “You haven’t exactly bought a first class ticket. No padded warp capsules in here.”

“I see,” Charley said, trying not to look too disappointed. “How long will we be in warp space?”

“About a week,” came the reply. “My warp tech is working out the correct dosage right now.”

“Dosage?”

Tyran looked at Charley as if she were stupid.

“Warp drugs. What, you think you can amuse yourself for a week with nothing but a pool of vomit to keep you company?”

Charley’s shoulders sagged. “I suppose not.”

“Welcome to the galaxy,” Tyran said with a smirk, realizing this was Charley’s first time. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

“Ewww,” FIGJAM said rudely. “Let’s move on, princess.”

Charley made her way to her assigned bulkhead, leaving the bemused Captain behind. This wasn’t the most romantic introduction to space travel. Charley had imagined spacious observation decks and waiters carrying trays of champagne. Her bulkhead smelled of urine and industrial cleaner. It was barely larger than a wardrobe. Feeling slightly sick already, she strapped herself to the wall, following holographic instructions that sprouted from a small operations panel.

Ensuring that FIGJAM and her weapons were secure, she waited, humming a little tune to herself over and over. FIGJAM seemed as apprehensive as she did.

At length Captain Tyran popped his head around the corner. “All systems are prepped and functional,” he said. “My warp tech is on her way.”

Within a minute a big, swarthy woman appeared brandishing a syringe. Before Charley could protest the needle was halfway through her thigh.

“First, time, darlin’?” the tech asked in a rough voice. “You’re gonna looove Danderly.”

“I hope so,” Charley managed to breathe.

And with that, everything went black.

Charley woke with a throbbing headache but her first thought was that she had finally escaped Abeyas. The feeling was so blissful that she forgot the pain of being strapped to a bulkhead for an entire week. Warp drugs were supposed to slow the body’s systems down, but they weren’t always successful in preventing the digestive system from working. Charley could feel FIGJAM stirring at her waist.

“Before you say anything,” she warned. “Think about whether you want to live.”

“Wasn’t gonna say anything about the terrible, terrible smell,” the robot replied.

Charley unstrapped herself and stumbled for a few steps. Within a minute her body had remembered how to walk and she found an open shower bay around the corner. It seemed this little section of the freighter was given over to the odd voyager traveling in less than economy class. Charley stowed her gear to one side, stripped down and luxuriated in a jet of hot water. She turned FIGJAM to face the wall but the little fucker turned around slowly, covertly. Charley didn’t mind. She even arched her back and made a show of rinsing her breasts off. It was all FIGJAM would ever get, so who was she to deprive it? She almost regretted her decision when the PalBot started making soft cooing noises.

“Weirdo,” she said, toweling herself down with her old shift and washing her utility suit under the shower jet. Fully geared up again, she headed to a grubby observation pane where she saw a blanket of stars. Danderly must be ahead of the ship and it seemed she was looking out to aft.

“Nice ride, eh?” asked the warp tech from behind her.

Charley blinked. She hadn’t traveled enough times to disagree, so she nodded.

“Come to the bridge,” the tech said. “Danderly always looks nice on the approach.”

Charley dutifully followed the tech to the bridge where she looked over Captain Tyran’s shoulder. The view wasn’t just nice, it was majestic. Danderly was dusky brown and strafed with high cloud. The Galactic Academy was an elegant off-world complex off to starboard. It was big enough to be a city. It many ways it was, a classically-designed world under a shimmering air dome. As Charley lost herself in its blinking lights she was more determined than ever to go and see Silverton’s old pirate friend.

“Got your eyes on a little education, I see,” Tyran murmured as he guided the freighter to a pre-orbital position. “That’ll cost you an arm and a leg.”

“I guess it would,” Charley replied. “Except I have no interest in a formal education.”

“I suppose not,” Tyran said, looking Charley’s weapons up and down for emphasis. “Don’t make me regret bringing you here.”

Charley realized that she had the distinct look of a troublemaker. The svelte, aggressive suit. The twin blasters. The scimitar. Even an AI hooked into her belt. She made a mental note to pick up something softer to wear before she hit the Galactic Academy.

Charley and Tyran exchanged bland pleasantries as Fortitude sank into orbit and waited for an opportunity to dock at an industrial port in the southern hemisphere.

Danderly was a bright and prosperous garden planet, heavily populated but rich enough to import many of its needs. The planet was smallish and mostly covered by land mass. The lack of oceans had a unique effect on the climate. The lack of ambient humidity made for very cold winters and very hot summers. The people of Danderly had adapted to the two extremes, seeing opportunity for rich, diverse fashions. Danderly was one of the fashion capitals of the galaxy. Its primary call to fame, however, was research. Danderly was home to many of the finest human minds. It was also where the human Navy housed its Theory Tank. This was where military tech was formulated and tested.

Charley’s eyes drank in the different landscape thirstily. Fortitude cruised low over a huge industrial estate before docking at a central terminal. From there, disembarking was a surprisingly simple process. Tyran shook her hand and wished her luck, leaving her standing dockside without so much as a direction to the arrivals lounge. She made her way through a terminal crowded with foul-mouth dock workers and merchantmen.

“I’m stumped, FIGJAM,” she said tiredly. “Can you believe we’re actually standing on another planet?”

“I believe it, hot stuff,” said the robot. “But what I can’t believe is how smokin’ hot you looked under that shower. You could deactivate me right now and my digital erection would last forever. Suck on that thought for a while, bitch-ass.”

“You really need to work on your sweet nothings,” Charley said, getting used to the PalBot’s particular way of passing on a compliment.

Her mind overwhelmed by the new situation, Charley found a bench and sat down to think. She was really hungry and thirsty. First port of call was a nice, hot meal. She checked her pockets - 79 credits. Enough for a few meals and perhaps one night of budget accommodation. Not enough for the transfer to the Galactic Academy, although she suspected the shuttles there would be subsidized in some way. No, she would need to either sell something or do a day or two of work before she made it up to that beautiful domed structure.

The industrial complex seemed to stretch forever. Charley went to find more information on Nex but her wrist pad rental had lapsed. Cursing, she realized she would need to spend more money on that.

Conceding that she wasn’t likely staying in a comfortable bed that night, Charley purchased a day of wrist pad time from a generalist kiosk and settled down with a bowl of Jementian curry to interact with Nex.

She found plenty of information on Danderly’s southern reaches. This particular region was known as the Southern Basin and it specialized in the import of raw materials and the export of cutting edge tech products. Shuttles to the Galactic Academy were possible from the far end of the dock estate. They left every twenty minutes. The best thing? Charley had just enough cash for a one-way ticket. She had no idea what she’d do once she found her contact but something told her that things would work out. Either that or she’d be deported back to Sandflower Downs for life. The thought made Charley feel sick inside.

Charley wolfed down the rest of her delicious felina and coconut curry and rushed down the crowded concourse. Being in motion made her feel giddy. She hadn’t felt this way since she was free to explore the fascinating, violent and colorful world of Sandflower Downs as a child. It hadn’t taken long back then to discover that life on Abeyas was one long battle for survival. Hopefully now she’d expanded her horizons, Charley could focus on other things.

20

The Academy shuttle was a cream-colored cog with a comfortable interior. Charley took a seat near the back, arranging her possessions and glad to travel in a little more style than how she arrived on Fortitude. The best thing about the shuttle was the transparent hull. As soon as the CabinBot had done its rounds and ensured everyone had purchased a ticket, a cool chime sounded and the captain addressed the dozen or so passengers.

“Conditions are fairly clear out there, ETA at the Academy Dock is 0732 Academy Standard Time. Charley adjusted her wrist pad - she’d been in warp space for so long she hadn’t quite adjusted to Danderly’s day cycle.

Charley had a stab of excitement as the shuttle’s prop bulbs fired and the vessel soared along a catapult track. The catapult mechanism fired the craft into the dusk sky. Charley marveled at the reds and oranges of sundown over this brown, hazy land. There was thick vegetation visible beyond the industrial port, with flocks of long-legged birds milling over a distant lake. She would have liked to explore Danderly a little more, but there were pressing matters at hand.

The shuttle soared into the mesosphere and Charley delighted in the technicolor halo generated by the atmospheric disturbance. The halo turned into a crackling orange fire, but only briefly, and then the vessel was surrounded by the ghostly silence of space. The Academy dome was visible over Danderly’s curve. The shuttle approached with surprising speed and zeroed in on a rectangular opening in the dome. Charley hadn’t noticed it before - it must have been a special portal for regular visitors.

The shuttle descended gracefully, adjusting for the introduction of human-spectrum gravity once under the dome. Charley drank in the solemn beauty of the Academy grounds. It really was like all those old school places of learning that people whispered about on Abeyas. Ivy-covered walls, heavily manicured grounds, students meeting each other to study or discuss the events of the day. Charley was amazed by the real vegetation, noticing the UV reflector tech lining the buttresses of nearly every building. The architecture was classical but with a sleek, modern touch. It gave an impression of beauty and practicality. It made Charley want to sign up for a course as soon as she could. If only she could afford it. The Galactic Academy may have been beautiful, but it was only available to the very richest in the galaxy, the elite. There were no scholarships - they had disappeared long ago. Academic merit meant nothing here. It was all about credit lines.

Luckily, Charley hadn’t come here to study. She resolved to find this Harry Teks character quickly. She had no idea what she actually wanted from him. She just instinctively believed that the seed of her new pirate career was here in the Academy somewhere.

The shuttle docked into the same rail and catapult system that launched them from Danderly. Charley alighted onto a pleasant walkway that threaded its way through a fern garden. She found herself in an open, grassy area outside the imposing facade of the Academy’s reception building. She located a staff finder inside and entered Harry’s name. A colored line appeared on the floor, leading off down one of the many branching corridors. Heart in her mouth, Charley followed it.

The Academy’s AI led her through a network of dark, pokey corridors until Charley emerged into a square quadrangle filled with chatting students. Charley couldn’t help but notice that most of them were her age. Except where she was slightly lined by exposure to the sun and wind of Abeyas, these folk could have adorned any fashion blog. Yes, many had been modded and scaped, but such procedures were seamless these days. If you had the money, there was no reason why you couldn’t look 22 and without a care in the world.

Charley tore her bittersweet gaze away from the students and concentrated on the magenta line that would carry her to her prey. She entered another building and was led into a drop shaft that raised her several levels. Two corridors later and the line terminated at the door to a cavernous lecture theater. Charley took a discreet seat at the back of the darkened theater. The auditorium was only half filled with students. The professor down on the floor behind the lectern was speaking on the ramifications of the latest trade tariffs on the so called wheat systems. The subject was as dry as the salt pans of Abeyas and Charley found herself losing interest very quickly. The subject was listed on a lightscreen - Interstellar Mercantile. Worlds apart from front line pirating, but then
that
was a subject that would never be accepted as a legitimate study topic.

Charley studied the professor with intense interest. Even though he tended to drone on about the current topic, he was certainly good looking for a man over fifty. His jaw was strong, thick with a grizzled beard. His eyes were almond-shaped pits of intensity. He carried himself like a military man. There was definitely something dangerous about him - it seemed that the Academy hadn’t quite beaten that out of him. Charley’s suspicions were confirmed when a student asking a question referred to him as Professor Teks. So this
was
the man.