Chapter Ten

Developments

Crush stood on the bridge, watching the tracking dots moving back through the station and toward the Talon’s dock. He ground his teeth when another detour was taken, ending in another large compartment.

How difficult was it to follow the instructions to go straight to their meeting and immediately return?

Their stay on the station was tense, to say the least. A good first impression had not been made when they first docked, and the feeling went both ways.

Viria insisted they were approaching the airlock purely intending to offer the crew an armed escort through the station. Whatever the truth was—and Crush was betting it wasn’t an escort—that plan had gone out the window the moment the airlock cycled open, and the three lines of Centrum units marched out of the Talon, Nanorifles drawn as Cara led the way with a pistol in each hand.

“Back up!” Cara had commanded with a wide smile. “Now!”

All the weapons powered up in a single second, and their hosts practically fled to the far side of the room.

By the time Crush made it down from the bridge, the two destroyers had docked, and the fifty or so Centrum units securing the dockside had caused panic to spread in the station.

Andy had printed out the definition of the words ‘Covert Action’ and framed it before handing it to Cara a couple of hours after they docked.

Just in case no one had ever explained it to her.

Crush had to admit that was pretty funny, even if Cara didn’t seem to agree. Although he noticed the gift was now on the wall of her cabin.

So, yeah, things were a little tense at the start.

Things had not improved much, and Berenice was escorted around the station by two sets of armed guards. The first was a pair of Centrum units, along with a Quad cent from each of the destroyers. They were technically there to assist Berenice, but they were armed with pistols, just in case.

The second set of guards was station security. They were a ring of ten in what passed for full armor here, all carrying frangible rounds. Crush hadn’t pointed out that they might as well throw stones at his people as use those weapons, as it seemed to make Viria happier to have them there.

“Berenice to Captain,” Berenice’s voice came over the comm line.

“Crush here; what happened to come straight back to the ship?”

“I made a few stops,” Berenice laughed. “But this last one presents a possible profit opportunity above the others.”

“Trading is your skill, Berenice, not mine,” Crush sighed.

“Touchy,” the merchant laughed, “But this is more your department, Captain.”

“Explain,” Crush ordered.

“We have a hold here with about thirty people claiming to be refugees. They have requested to join the colony.” Berenice replied. “I was about to say yes, but I was informed by a Quad from the escorts that you would, and I am quoting here, ‘go spare’ if I did that without talking to you.”

Crush put his head in his hands and resisted the urge to swear over the open comm line.

“Hello?” Berenice called back fractions of a second later. “Well?”

“A second, please, Merchant!” Crush snapped.

Crush-Cha did not know how to be a captain on a ship, an ambassador, or a trader, all of which seemed to be involved in deciding what to do about these refugees. It was all just too new to him. He would adapt in time, but time was something they never seemed to get these days. No wonder Nellie complained about things changing on her every time they spoke.

Life with the nanites seemed to move at something close to full speed all the time.

Or maybe it was just being around Nellie? How had her world ever survived having her on it?

Crush smiled and decided to stop trying to be things he was not. Crush was a soldier and, more happily, a Marshall. Those were things he knew how to do.

From that perspective, it was pretty simple.

“Berenice, tell them they can come to the dockside for interview and screening. Assuming they are really refugees, they can come on board and will be welcomed into the Colony. Any spies will be taken onboard as well, then escorted out the nearest airlock.” Crush smiled that infamous lazy smile. “Word for word, if you please, Merchant.”

“Delighted, Captain,” Berenice called back cheerfully.

Crush closed the comm line and woke Andy, who had been off shift until all this started. If they had refugees, then a doctor was needed.

After leaving Tri on the bridge to monitor the sensors, Crush took the rest of his crew and started setting things up. They needed a holding area, a guarded entrance to the ship, and a pair of tables with chairs to interview people.

After reorganizing the guards, Crush stood with his hands behind his back—parade rest always impressed the civies—and waited for their guests to arrive.

His HUD showed the progress of the trackers on his people as they slowly made their way to the dock.

“This way, people!” Berenice called as the doors opened, and the rag-tag collection of people craned their necks for a better look.

Running his eyes over the group, Crush saw that there were actually very few of the Maiusan people in the group. He could only actually see two; the rest was evenly divided between a skeletal-looking group with shiny black skin—although it most resembled a carapace to Crush’s eyes—and a bald, grey-skinned people with deep-set eyes.

“I only count twenty-two, Merchant Berenice,” Crush smiled.

“Eight Maiusian people declined the offer, Marshall,” she laughed back. “I can’t think why.”

“Spies is why,” One of the carapace people hissed. “Spies who wanted us all killed for their crime is why.”

“Clean skins and fresh scents,” another chipped in. “Not a refugee. Not at all.”

“Happily, they decided not to try their luck,” Crush replied loudly. “If there are any more here, I urge you to make yourselves known at the interview. You will not be harmed and will be free to go. That will be your last opportunity to do so.”

With that little bit of diplomacy out of the way, Crush and Cara got down to work.

Each of them was interviewed one by one. At first, nothing was very interesting. They were clearly refugees from somewhere around here, and their physical condition could not be faked—his own scanners told him that much.

It all changed when the ones who had spoken got their turn. They approached the table, holding hands and visibly nervous.

“One at a time, please,” Crush said in a friendly tone.

“We must speak,” the first said.

“As one,” the second continued.

“Spies is why,” the first added.

“Better take a seat and tell me all about it,” Crush waved Cara over so she could hear as well.

“They came to us before we left, the spies,”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“We can stay here, have money, and be safe.”

“But only if we get on Talon-ship and steal.”

“We do not steal.”

“Would not steal.”

“Intended to tell.”

They both nodded.

“Thank you for being honest,” Crush smiled. “Now, what shall I call you?”

“I am Slash-Dot,” the first answered, showing markings on the shoulder. A slash from a knife and a healed stab wound. “She is Cross-Slash.”

“Unusual names,” Cara offered.

“Our people have no names. When we came here, we used scars to name ourselves.” Cross-Slash offered.

“Our species do not need names; we know who we are and who we speak to,” Slash-Dot added.

“Doesn’t it get difficult when you have large groups?” Crush had to ask. He was getting sick of people turning up with no names. The idea of a whole civilization that way was… alarming.

“No large group,” Cross-Slash said. “All of us are here. No one else.”

“The other four died on asteroid home,” Slash-Dot added sadly.

“Your ENTIRE race was fourteen people?” Cara asked.

“Asteroid was nice,” Cross-Slash insisted. “But not large.”

“Do not take our people’s places for our crimes,” Slash-Dot asked. “Kill us if it will buy them a safe home.”

Cross-Slash nodded, a tear rolling down her face and dropping onto the table where it hissed, eating through the metal a little.

“Acid tears?” Cara whispered. “Boss, Paren will love this lot.”

“Do you promise not to steal?” Crush asked, trying to ignore the comment.

“Of course,” Cross-Slash said immediately. “Would never have stolen. Only agreed to ensure they did not ask others and doom them too!”

“Then your people may enter the Talon,” Crush sighed. “Look, try not to cry on anything that looks vital, okay?”

Crush watched the last of the glossy-skinned people file on board the Talon, where they were escorted to guarded quarters by a Centrum unit. Trust, but verify was his personal approach here. The guard would be there if a problem broke out, but other than that, they could wander freely, if well observed, to any non-critical areas of the ship.

“How is that even possible?” Cara asked quietly. “A whole species on one asteroid?”

“It happens, I guess,” Crush shrugged. “You get unique species on islands, and if the asteroid was large enough to have an atmosphere…”

“Damn, that’s creepy,” Cara shook her head. “Your whole universe is this tiny speck hurtling through space? No, thank you.”

“Not my cup of tea, either,” Crush admitted. “Let’s get back to it.”

The grey people were almost dull by comparison. They had names and places of birth, everything else you would expect. Of all things, they were victims of the docking fees.

A space fairing people by nature, they had come here to trade, only to find their goods spoiled and unusable to pay the docking fee. When their goods were disposed of, there were more charges. They also incurred fees for using station air and water, as well as power. The list went on and on. Late fees, penalty charges, and more kept on rising until they were forced to hand over their ship.

At that point, Station Control decided they were refugees and shoved them in a corner of the station.

That was it. The reason so few ships docked here.

Exorbitant fees and extortionate penalties had given this place a bad name. The traders would rather pass by and go to the next system rather than risk landing without acceptable payment.

Crush was willing to bet they took liberties with the valuing of goods as well.

He let them on board, where they happily bunked with the others. After a couple of months together, the two groups seemed quite chummy, which was a good sign. That kind of environment really showed who people were. You either saw people help each other or try to grab as much for them and theirs as possible. That this group seemed to prefer to help each other boded well for them fitting in with Nellie’s people. As for the chitin-skinned creatures with acid tears? Well, he just hoped Nellie would forgive him for any ideas it gave Paren.

The thought made Crush chuckle, putting him in a great mood as Berenice came over to discuss their latest trades.

While he listened to the excitable merchant, Crush-Cha wondered how the mad scientist was doing with a whole world to play with.

===<<<>>>===

“Coming in from the mountains,” The Girl called over their restored comms. “I have three following in a tight ‘V’ formation.”

“Roger that,” Robot acknowledged. “We are prepared at site three; watch the left side as you enter the capture area.”

The Girl veered to her right and put her head down, legs pumping as she sprinted over the hard-packed ground. Site one passed on her right, the traps and cages empty and still. Site two was away on the other side of the mesa their plateau sat on top of. It was out of action for a while after she brought back a few more than expected on the last run.

“In place in five,” The Girl called, leaping a fallen tree that marked the site boundary. Ten more steps, and she whirled to face the things chasing her.

The three creatures immediately started to fan out, lowering their diamond-shaped heads and hissing as they faced her. Bipedal things with long tails and agile necks, they rustled their frills as they crouched to leap at her. Their powerful back legs shivered a split second before they struck.

Instead of jumping up, they shot forward, their bodies flattening as their frills expanded into something like the flights on a dart. Their fanged mouths opened as their teeth shone and transparent membranes slid over their eyes to protect them.

“Gotcha!” Paren yelled in triumph as two of them were snatched out of the air by metal traps that sprung closed, catching them. The last one spun like a corkscrew, escaping the trap by millimeters.

The Girl launched herself into the air, meeting it with a roundhouse kick that sent it flying off to the side.

“Mine!” She landed in a crouch and they started to circle each other. The hissing creature wary as it tried to find an opening. Its head moved back and forth like a metronome as it started to bob and weave, trying to confuse her.

Grinning, The Girl drew a pair of long, thin knives from holsters on her hips.

“Here, little one,” The Girl spun the twin blades in dizzying arcs, sunlight flashing off the blades. “Let me show you how to—” Yelping, she threw herself flat as it sailed over her, head swinging down to snap her head off as it passed. It missed by millimeters.

Ignoring Paren’s laughter, The Girl flipped upright and kicked off, kicking the thing in the tail and spinning away as the creature whirled to strike. The spin ended with the blades plunged into both eyes, a quick twist of her wrists, and blood fountained.

It was over.

“You suck at showing off,” Paren laughed as The Girl gave her the finger. It was a successful hunt, even if it did catch her off guard. It would not happen again.

That was how it worked. You studied your prey, getting to know its every move and counter-move until you knew what it would do before even it did. Then, and only then could you master it.

Or, that was the theory.

Paren seemed to be the exception to every rule.

She was standing with her two new sub-drones on either side of her, their conversion already complete.

That wasn’t what irked The Girl, however. That was just nanites taking over their bodies—pure science. It was what happened the first time they encountered these animals that pissed her off.

The three of them had been exploring the base of the nearby mountain range, marveling at the strange way they had formed. The Rainbow Mountains, as they had named them, had diagonal stria of vibrant colors that were different at each layer. The look was striking, which might have been why they weren’t being as careful as they should have been.

To give the trio their due, this place had so far seemed to lack anything even remotely like a predatory species. It seemed to lack anything bigger than the size of a small dog from what they had seen up to that point.

Then, out of seemingly nowhere, The Girl had been attacked by these things. Four of them came shooting out from behind a rocky outcropping, almost killing her on the spot.

As soon as she yelled out, Robot and Paren came running.

Robot jumped in front of her, unfolding his arms and legs until he seemed to double in size. Still, the creatures circled and prepared to attack.

Then Paren arrived.

She strode into the center of the circling creatures and turned a glare on each one. One by one, they lowered their heads and lay on the ground, a constant sibilant hiss of terror coming from them.

“Go away,” Paren said, and all four fled like their tails were on fire.

That pissed The Girl off to no end. She knew Paren was something special, but how did they? It was like they sensed her position or something.

In her darker moments, The Girl wondered if it was just a living creature's natural reaction to someone who looked at them like some fleshy construction toy. Not a whole, but a stack of parts waiting for harvesting. Sometimes she caught Paren looking at her a certain way and KNEW she was wondering what The Girl’s insides looked like.

It was in those moments that The Girl understood the real truth.

The snake-like runners were predators, but they understood their place on the food chain.

Paren was the apex predator of this world. She had been from the moment they broke the atmosphere.

“Right!” Paren clapped her hands, breaking The Girl out of her reverie. “Let’s get these two set up, and I’ll work on the other one.”

“Mine,” The Girl insisted.

“Sis, we talked about this,” Paren teased. “Use your words.”

“My kill, my corpse,” The Girl insisted. “I want the leather and scales.”

“Okay,” Paren said with a grin. “Sure you don’t want me to do it with nanites?”

“I prefer to do it myself, thank you,” The Girl ignored the rolled eyes and got to work skinning her kill. The manual labor soothed her frayed nerves a little. This one had gotten really close to getting her. It was exhilarating and the only way to truly improve her skills. Nanites could make her faster, stronger, or even more agile, but there was no substitute for really fighting. To putting your life on the line and betting it all.

There was nothing like the feeling.

This was the third one The Girl had decided to skin, and she was getting better at it. Freeing the thick hide was easier, and the loss of scales was much less. The fins were a different story. The membranes were delicate, riddled with blood vessels, and tore easily. She had only gotten one off successfully so far, but that would change today.

Pulling the nano-bladed scalpel from a secret pocket, The Girl began to delicately slice them free.

This was their last run on these creatures. Paren had thirty now, more than enough to patrol and scout areas for interesting finds.

Tomorrow, they would start to push further afield.

Looking up, a flare of light caught her eye, and The Girl saw a trial of fire far above.

Their replacement Orb had arrived.