Chapter 1
A Busy Day at the Outer Rim
"You the owner here?" came the high-pitched translation from the Askaran's second-rate, hand-held on the day the trouble began.
Horace sub-vocalized to the AI, "Yes, sir. Name's Horace. What can I do for you?" The AI repeated it in Askaranz to Horace's customer.
"I'm looking for a Ghaanatz freighter," said the Askaran, "Mor series, discontinued several universal years ago." The Askaran shifted his weight, drawing attention to his large talons that clacked on the space station's metal floor.
Horace ran a salvage operation in orbit around Tolkolken, a lunar settlement on the outer rim of the Desperatus galaxy. The few humans who wandered out that far didn't always receive a warm welcome.
"Were you interested in the ship or just parts?" Horace had to look up to this seven-foot lizard, and still appear in control.
"The ship. I will inspect it now."
"I have to come with you. Those are the rules in my yard and your side arm stays here," said Horace, knowing full well that this monster wouldn't need a sidearm to dispatch him in an instant.
The Askaran clacked his beak twice, but unholstered his personal laser and tossed it to him.
"The freighter's old and broken-down but she's rare, for sure," said Horace, catching the laser with both hands.
"Lots of things are rare. Not all are valuable," said the Askaran.
Horace stowed the Askaran's sidearm, trying not to let on how heavy it was for him.
"I need it very soon, human," the Askaran said out loud in his own tongue, instead of sub-vocalizing to the translator as before. His large, almond-shaped, green eyes narrowed.
Horace almost couldn't hear the translator for his screeching. He moved around the reception console to escort the hulk to the shuttle bay. Before he took two steps, the station's perimeter sensors sounded and the AI said, "A small, Titan class, Aries vessel approaching, Sir. Would you like to speak with the captain?"
The Askaran clacked his beak twice in irritation but Horace ignored him. He could not afford to show any weakness to this brute.
"Yes. Put him on, Jeeves," said Horace to the AI. "Yes, Sir, but I will put her on."
Horace didn't get many human female customers. And since he slept there, except for an occasional two weeks off, that meant he didn't see many women at all. The color of her hair reminded him of the red clay of his home planet, Vistant, and her smooth skin displayed the colors of a summer sunset of pink, yellow and orange. The gauzy fabric of her low-cut blouse did little to hide her ample breasts.
"Hello. Are you the proprietor?" she asked from the screen.
After pausing to clear his head of his horny thoughts, he answered, "Yes, Horace Whistlestop, at your service. And with whom am I speaking?"
"I am Aranna Navna, of the fifth Aries planet of Shantar. The matter is of a rather delicate nature. May I come on board?"
"Certainly," said Horace.
Then he remembered the Askaran. "This will not take long, I'm sure," he said to him, "In the meantime, please sign in here and present a universally accepted form of ID."
"Why must I be put off simply because you're in heat?" the Askaran's translator intoned following more of his screeching.
"Listen Askaran, I don't have to do business with anyone. There are other salvage companies. You can sign in or take your business elsewhere." Horace was playing with fire. Sweat beaded on his forehead.
The Askaran backed down, his quest presumably worth the wait. He signed in, and Horace excused himself to meet the woman. They could talk in the corridor while Jeeves kept tabs on the Askaran. His security system, of necessity, was the best. It helped him stay in one piece and sleep nights.
Horace nearly ran down the corridor, only slowing when he got to the corner just outside the docking port. He didn't want to appear anxious. Or panting. He slowed, took a deep breath and rounded the corner.
She moved with languid grace. Her arms and legs moving in a fluid, seemingly effortless rhythm. He stared at her like an adoring puppy.
"Why, Mr. Whistlestop, how kind of you to meet me."
"You did say that you had a problem of a delicate nature. I have a customer in my office just now that is very anxious to be escorted to an old freighter. Askarans are, as I'm sure you know, not a patient species."
"Indeed."
"So, Ms. Navna, your problem?"
"Please, my given name is Aranna. And may I call you Horace?" she said, offering her hand to him in royal fashion.
Horace didnít know whether to kiss her hand, shake it or just bow. He decided on something in between, briefly holding it in his, and bowing to her. He felt like an idiot. Normally, he couldnít give a rooka's ass about protocol.
"Why, why thank you. Certainly, you must–must call me Horace."
She withdrew her hand and stroked a cameo of a woman carved into an iridescent, oval locket dangling from a chain about her slender neck.
"And to answer your question, my father did not approve of my last amorous affair. My poor beloved abruptly left this universe when my father discovered him in my bedchamber. Suffice it to say I am brokenhearted, and have nothing to remember him by save an object which I hope to find on board a freighter in your yard. I have been searching for half a year. It is really nothing, but has sentimental value to me."
"I'm so sorry for your loss. You should be allowed some remembrance of your lost love. Which freighter?"
"It is a Ghaanatz freighter. A very old one. Mor series. I'm afraid it has all but fallen to bits by now."
What could it be that's attracting so many people?
The perimeter alarm sounded again. "Sir, there is another customer approaching and coming in hot," said Jeeves. "You might want to grab on to something. Shall I prepare docking port three before he rams us?"
"Yes! Yes!" The station shuddered, slamming Horace back against the corridor wall with Aranna falling into him.
Aranna took her time extricating herself when the station stopped its heaving. Aranna's breasts didn't stop their heaving. She meant business of more than one sort.
"Excuse me. Are you all right?" she said with her hands still on his chest.
"Sir, the incoming ship has docked, more or less," said Jeeves.
"No kidding," said Horace.
"We will need to make repairs before using that port again. What shall I tell the occupants? There are three: two humanoids of unknown origin and a Gwurkplt from Ghaanatz Nine," said Jeeves.
"Have them stay put. Tell them the station's in a security lock down, and I'll get back to them within the hour. Then contact Commander Howard on the moon base. Apprise him of the situation, and have him bring reinforcements. Quickly!"
Horace turned back to Aranna, "There seems to be a lot of interest in your memento. You'll have to wait like everyone else. I think weíre going to have a bidding war on our hands if we have a sale at all. I think you should start telling me the truth. What's on that tub that's so valuable?"
Aranna's color drained from her face, leaving it a shade of alabaster. She swallowed, then glanced up and down the hall. "It's just a trinket. I can't imagine them wanting such a thing. Surely they just want the ship. I understand it is very rare."
"I'm waiting for you to tell me what it is, lady."
Her hand went to her chest, her eyes batted as if beating back tears. "It is just a holo-cube. Images from our time together. Can there be any harm in my retrieving it before anyone else takes possession of the ship?"
"I'll think about it," Horace said. "Meantime, you need to go back to your ship until this is all sorted out. I'm putting this station in lock down."
"But...."
"Now! I'll get back to you soon. Don't leave your ship."
Horace didn't trust the look of alarm on her face as she turned to retreat. It was too forced. As soon as she crossed the threshold of the docking port, he sub-vocalized to Jeeves, "Get this station in lock down. What's the Askaran's name?"
"Darantz, sir. Our new arrivals have sent you a message. They are most eager to purchase a certain Ghaanatz freighter–Mor series. Shall I move the security hangar into position around the freighter?"
"Yes. Right away. And scan the freighter for low-level power output, download all of its logs to my implant, and prepare my shuttle. I'm going to the freighter to investigate. Have Commander Howard meet me there. His troops need to hold the station and the perimeter." Horace ran back down the corridor to deal with the Askaran on his way to the shuttle.
"I understand your name is Darantz. Seems there's a lot of interest in that freighter. My most recent customers are so anxious that they didn't bother with braking thrusters."
The Askaran shifted his weight, clacked his beak four times and leaned so close to Horace that he could quite literally bite his head off.
"I'm curious," Horace continued, ignoring his racing heart, "why there is so much interest in a beat-up freighter. Don't suppose you want to tell me what you're really after?"
After Darantz' angry screeches, his translator said, "My inquiry was the first. And the last ship can't possibly afford it once they make reparations for the damage to your docking port. Take me to the ship. I will pay a fair price, but we are wasting time that I donít have."
"I'm afraid that is out of the question. The station is on lock down until I get some answers. The only place I'll be escorting you is back to your ship." Horace instinctively backed out of beak range while the ship's translator repeated his speech in Askaranz.
Darantz lunged for Horace as Horace reached to activate the force field behind his counter. The shield went up with the lizard's beak in it. The Askaran screeched so loudly that Horace held his ears, cringing as the odor of singed beak permeated the room. The field lost integrity and failed, releasing the Askaran. Horace ducked under the counter and grabbed his nerve gun. Before Horace stood back up, Darantz was over the counter and facing him. He came at him with beak and claws at the ready. Horace willed his shaky hands to press the gun's activation button. The Askaran's eyes widened, and he convulsed and crumpled to the floor with a strangled cry.
Horace was shaking all over. "Jeeves! Clean the air. Send the bots for the body and fix that shield."
"Yes sir. And where should we put him?"
"I don't care. Just make sure he's not able to go anywhere when he recovers."
Horace shuttled to the freighter. He had no idea what he was looking for, but he meant to find it first.
#
The scorched consoles and buckling deck plates told a tale of a battle lost. The freighter must have carried a crew of four at most. A salvage ship had found it adrift just two days earlier, with no one aboard. Both ejection pods were gone. Life-support and artificial gravity were still running. Not much else worked on her. The salvage ship had given up trying to bring her back to life and had towed her in.Horace perused the highlights of the Captain's logs. Klurk was an unremarkable freighter captain from Ghaanatz. He dropped off his crew for shore leave on Kvaratt Seven and picked up a Kvargon by the name of Smurg from Kvaratt One.
"Jeeves, check all information banks for any mention of Smurg," said Horace.
Without a noticeable pause, Jeeves answered, "Smurg is an archeologist from the Kvarg system. He made news last week on Kvaratt One. His excavation site came under attack, and he escaped with an artifact. His life's work has been to find the Awesome Lavratt, the existence of which is only mentioned in early texts of Kvaratt One."
"So are you going to tell me what's so awesome about this Awesome Lavratt?"
"Sorry, Sir. Yes. Legend says that it can magnify the latent mental abilities within certain beings. The extent of its powers is unknown."
Horace plopped into the command chair and continued scanning the captainís logs. The ship had come under attack more than once. Captain Klurk had intended to shove this proverbial Jonah, and his so-called priceless artifact out an airlock to avoid losing his ship. He considered taking the Lavratt first, but he reasoned that dead men have no need of riches, and he couldnít shake his attackers. Smurg volunteered to leave peaceably in an escape pod.
Horace surveyed the navigation center. He tried to think where Smurg might hide something.
"What does it look like?" he asked Jeeves.
"No one knows, except, of course, Smurg if he has indeed found it. He has not claimed to, but obviously a number of people think he did."
Where is the artifact now? Didn't Smurg take it with him? Aranna and the Askaran don't seem to think so.
Horace paced all over the ship, peering into every zero-G cargo net, cabinet and locker. Suddenly, a mental image came into his head, that of a black cube about 0.2 meters on every side. He searched for it everywhere. He knew Smurg hid it on the ship. He could picture him hiding it. How is this possible? No matter. The Lavratt is all that matters, now.
Horace went to the crew quarters, crawled under a bunk and found a loose piece of deck plating. He crawled back out to search for tools in the engineering room, and returned with a power drill. With the plate off, he spotted his prize. Nestled among conduits, lay a shiny black cube. He gently set it on the bunk. Before inspecting it, he replaced the plate and returned the drill to engineering.
Heading back to the cube, Horace felt a peculiar sensation. Something akin to that little nagging feeling that you have forgotten something important. He couldn't shake it. He knew Commander Howard's arrival was imminent, yet he felt an overwhelming desire to bring the artifact to Aranna. Horace followed this inexplicable urge because he had learned long ago to trust his instincts.
Aranna knew everything that had transpired on the freighter since the Lavratt had been taken on board. First, through Smurg's viewpoint, and now through Horace's. Their proximity to the artifact made them especially susceptible to its powers. She stroked her locket that concealed the disk with which she remotely controlled the Lavratt—and anyone around it. It had been so easy to manipulate Smurg. She had tricked him into leaving the Lavratt aboard the freighter. Smurg had left the ship via an escape pod believing that he carried the Lavratt with him. It was, in fact, his EVA helmet. The pods depressurize at launch.
"Sir, Commander Howard will be in coupling range in ten minutes," said Jeeves.
"Have him secure the freighter. Tell him that there's something valuable on board and desperate people here who may take drastic measures to get it. I'm leaving the freighter's security in his capable hands."
"Yes, Sir. You wouldn't like to tell him yourself?"
"No, you impudent mass of self-important circuitry! Do as I say. I'll speak with him later."
"Yes, Sir. Of course."
Horace thought he detected a hint of sarcasm in the AI's tone. AIs were not very adept at mimicking human emotion and seldom bothered attempting it. The stupid thing probably thinks I'm having an intimate rendezvous with Aranna.
Horace's shuttle departed just before the Commander's shuttle coupled with the security hangar. As soon as Horace's shuttle docked with his junk shop, he raced to his locker, grabbed his clothes and nestled the Lavratt in the middle of his shoulder bag, wrapped in a pair of clean undershorts. He ran to Aranna's ship. "Why, Horace. Back already?" Aranna gestured for him to enter.
Horace admired her profile first.
"Did you make your decision?" she asked.
"I have. I also know that it's no holo-cube. What are your plans for the Lavratt?"
"What you don't know is that it is incomplete. I possess the missing piece. With it, we can make all of our dreams come true." Aranna pushed the button to close the interlock door and ushered him the rest of the way onto her ship.
"We?" Horace found himself looking at her cleavage instead of her face as she ran her fingers along the deep neckline. Horace thought she might pull her blouse open at any moment.
"But, of course," she said. You must have noticed my attraction to you. Help me get the Lavratt, and we can be very happy together. You and I. What do you say?"
"I'd be a fool to say yes, and a fool to say no." He shifted his weight, and sighed. "I'd rather be your fool than peddle junk the rest of my lonely days. I'll help you, and protect you the best I can. This needs to be a full partnership, though. It will be our Lavratt and our plans."
"Horace, dear, I wouldn't have it any other way. Is it there?" She pointed to the bag.
"Yes. We need to get out of here fast. I've got reinforcements surrounding the freighter, awaiting my report."
"And the Askaran?"
"He won't be bothering us." Horace put his hands on his hips, and puffed his chest out.
"Oh, my brave man. Let's go!" She threw her arms around him.
At Aranna's verbal command, her ship retracted from the docking port. It spun around at an unadvisable speed, at a scary proximity to the salvage yard, and went into its first pre-programmed jump.
"I need some sort of assurance that we're in this together." Horace stood from the co-pilot's seat. "Once you have the Lavratt, you may not need me, or want me. I may find myself out an airlock without an EVA suit."
"What kind of proof can I give you?" She batted her eyelashes at him.
Horace forgot what the question was. He pulled her close, and kissed her pouting lips. He let his hands wander over every curve, and she reciprocated. They shuffled to her sleeping quarters leaving a trail of clothing in their wake. She found his every erogenous zone, and he felt he knew just how to please her. Afterward, he collapsed, exhausted, drained and immensely content. She laid her head on his chest, and he dozed off.
After carefully extricating herself from him, Aranna threw on her robe, and headed straight for the shoulder bag. She lifted out the Lavratt with shaking hands. Then she pulled her chain with the locket over her head, and removed the back of the pendant. Inside was the small disk which she slipped into a corresponding slot in the cube.
She didn't know what would happen. She guessed the device would become more powerful. Instead, the constant headache she'd had since the Lavratt had been unearthed vanished instantly. Her hand went to her head. It felt cooler. She sighed and sat down on the deck, relishing the end of the pain.
A new sensation of serenity and quiet washed over her. Quiet! She couldnít sense Horace's presence or see his dreams! All of that came to an abrupt halt when she inserted the disk. What's happening?
She tried to reach out with her mind to him and wake him. Nothing! Her heart raced as she snatched up the cube. Aranna removed the disk. It burned her fingers. She tossed it back and forth between her hands to cool it off. Preferring the headache to the emptiness and loss of power, she returned the disk to her locket.
Her powers returned, as did her headache.
Horace woke up in a daze. His disorientation turned to delight as he realized the wild night of passion with the beautiful Aranna had not been a dream. The ship was preparing for a hyper-jump. With Aranna's mind occupied with other matters, he was able to think for himself, and understood his situation. The enormity of the power she now wielded hit him like a sudden shift to 2Gs from zero gravity.
"Awake now, my dear?" she said. She sat down on the bed and pushed a dangling lock from his eyes.
He didnít say a word. What was the point? She could read his thoughts.
"You look like a frightened animal, Horace. What happened to my tiger?" She leaned over him, letting her robe fall open in the middle to expose her breasts.
Horace forgot himself again, and initiated round two with vigor. He felt like a teenager again. Like a teenager who'd won the lottery. He explored every inch of her perfect body, and satisfied her better than he'd ever satisfied any woman. He knew precisely what she wanted.
When he could catch his breath, he sat up and asked, "Where are we?"
"We are nearing the Umlar Nebula." She stroked his inner thigh with the back of her fingernail, "The worlds in this part of the galaxy are populated with primitive, superstitious people. We will be welcomed, revered and adored."
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First Edition ISBN-10: 1-58832-991-7 ISBN-13: 9781588329912 Contributing Publisher: Redwood Writers http://www.redwoodwriters.org Distributing Publisher: Unlimited Publishing LLC http://www.unlimitedpublishing.com