The electronic tone signaling the end of the match blared loudly as Dick and I stared silently at each other. The crowd, no longer silenced by confusion, became agitated and angry.
“Everyone, please remain calm and orderly while our officials investigate this stunning turn of events,” the MC said, trying to keep the crowd from rioting. There was a lot of money on the line in our fight, and I imagined people would not be happy to have it end without a clear victor or through disqualification.
As fight officials, including Rorik and his assistant, entered the cage, I became more certain that disqualification might be the way the match swung. While it might cause some trouble for Dick, I still felt it was the best scenario for our crew. We had a lot of money riding on the outcome of the match, and a disqualification should still fall in our favor.
Nobody seemed particularly concerned with me, at first. Most of the officials were crowding around Dick, asking what seemed like an endless amount of questions. I could see by his face, he was reluctant to answer any of them, but he did admit that his transformation was the result of a racial ability.
Rorik seemed the most agitated, feeling as if he had been duped and made a fool of not just in this fight but in all previous fights involving Dick. I imagined he was worried that anyone who previously lost money betting against Monster Johnson would be looking for a refund.
That was his problem to work out, in my opinion. Eventually, Rorik and his assistant made their way over to me. The other fight officials were leading Dick out of the cage and toward the locker rooms.
“Miss Alnasi,” Rorik’s assistant said as he and his boss approached. “After speaking with Mr. Johnson, we have determined that his use of a racial ability to alter his form constituted a violation of the rules. If you have no objections, we will declare you the winner by forfeit.”
I simply nodded, never taking my eyes off Rorik. He hadn’t been the one to speak, but I sensed he had a lot to say.
“Very well,” said the assistant. “If you will return to the locker rooms, we will be happy to pay out the winnings you are entitled to and settle any other...er...transactions necessary.”
Having finished with business, Rorik motioned for his assistant to leave, to which he quickly complied. The fervor of the crowd hadn’t seemed to dim with Dick’s departure. In fact, I could tell it was becoming increasingly more difficult for staff to calm or control the crowd now that it seemed apparent that those who bet on the favored fighter would be losing their money.
“I can’t help but wonder,” Rorik said, finally breaking his silence, “how much of this shocking turn of events you might have foreseen, Miss Alnasi.”
I understood his thinly veiled suspicions that I was somehow part of a scheme to rig a match. I also picked up on the dangerous undertone of his statement. But if he thought I was the type of person who would stand meekly by while he lobbed underhanded threats at me, it was time he understood just who he was dealing with.
“You seem well-respected among the circles you move in, Mr. Rorik, but you’ve already underestimated me one time tonight and lost,” I said looking him directly in the eyes, my tone hard but respectful. “I’m not sure how much familiarity you have with Outlaws, but I do know your experience with me is limited. So, let me assure you that had I desired to liberate you and your bosses of every credit they owned, I would have done so without consequence or remorse.”
He stared at me in stoic silence, his eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly. I moved to walk past him towards the cage exit, but stopped briefly as I drew next to him. My next words were spoken softly but far from gently as I kept my gaze focused on the restless crowd this time.
“I imagine a man of your professionalism will bounce back from this with ease. Much easier, in fact, than were you to insult my generous offer of a fair business transaction.”
With those parting words, I exited the arena. I wasn’t sure if I had made things better or worse, but it didn’t matter. You don’t get to live free by letting people cower you into a corner. Making my way to the back, I heard Rorik’s voice come over the announcement system as he calmly mollified the agitated patrons.
In the locker room, I found the assistant waiting to pay me my winnings and the 1,000 credits Rorik owed me.
“Where’s Johnson?” I asked, glancing around and seeing that the locker room was vacant.
“He left soon after the officials escorted him back here to retrieve his things,” the assistant said. “He probably wanted to disappear before Mr. Rorik asks him to return his winnings for the other fights he cheated through.”
“It’s a technicality, not cheating,” I said, retrieving my weapons, holster and jacket from the locker. “People bet on a Centuri fighter, and that’s what they got. Besides, isn’t it your job to make sure things like this don’t slip through unnoticed?”
I didn’t wait for an answer, just took the payment he had placed on the bench and left without another word. As I emerged from the backstage exit into the alley, I wondered where Dick was. Would he go back to the ship? Was he gone for good after our altercation in the cage?
Despite being thrown together by circumstances, none of us were obligated to find a way out of this mess together. There was nothing stopping him from paying off his portion of the debt with his winnings and splitting. At least for now, however, I knew he couldn’t leave without what he came for in the first place.
“The cargo,” I murmured to myself. He wouldn’t leave without the cargo, but if me exposing him tonight had forced his hand, he could be at the transport now tearing it out of the ship’s floor before the rest of the crew caught wind of what happened tonight at The Kraken. I needed to get back, fast.
As I hurried down the alley, however, a presence suddenly appeared in front of me. I hadn’t detected it earlier, which was something Dick had a talent for doing. I expected to see him stepping out of the shadows but was instead surprised to find Owen blocking my way.
“Owen,” I said warily in greeting.
“Miss Alnasi, I see you’ve finally figured out that not everyone on your crew is what they appear to be,” he said in a conversational tone.
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“You could have told us he was a changeling,” I said, flatly. “You outed just about everyone else.”
“Ahh. True. Consider it a professional courtesy on my part,” he answered. “It’s not very cool to go outing fellow shapeshifters.”
“Was there something you needed, Owen? I’ve some urgent business to attend to,” I said.
“Yes, actually, I’ve business of my own I needed to discuss with you,” he said. “After tonight’s debacle, there might be quite a bit of attention on you and your...team. My employers have the power to make sure there are no lasting repercussions so that our own business transaction goes smoothly.”
“Wonderful, thanks a bunch,” I said dismissively and moved to leave.
“However,” he said, stepping forward just slightly as to interrupt my departure without seeming aggressive. “It has not escaped my employers’ notice that, given their generous show of faith by expediting your clearances, you and your companions might be tempted to skip town, as they say, without fully meeting your end of the bargain.”
I gave him a long assessing look before responding.
“And you’re here to relay some threat to our welfare if we should attempt to do so?” I guessed.
“Oh no, nothing like that,” Owen said reassuringly, yet I was far from reassured. “Though of course my sponsors did ask that I convey the reality of the situation. Namely, they wish for me to remind you that those clearances could just as easily be revoked should your entire team not meet their end of the bargain.”
“I see,” I said. “So, you’ve come to proclaim me babysitter, someone who’ll keep everyone in line. You might as well ask me to wrangle that sea beast under my control.”
“Interesting analogy,” he responded, “because although such a task as bringing Lord Acheron under control does seem insurmountable, even that can be accomplished with the right tools.”
I thought of the story Perl had told us at the Merry Mermaid about a crown the regent inherited during coronation. She had called it the Drowned Diadem and said it held the power to control Acheron. It had seemed like old folklore, but the destruction at Mandala gave credence to the story being true.
“The right tool for the job, then?” I asked. “That’s what you’re here for?”
“Indeed. My employers are willing to offer you the proper tools, motivation if you will, in return for making sure your team carries out your mission to completion.”
“That is interesting,” I rebutted, “given that you’ve so far failed to even provide us with the full details regarding our mission.”
“The full details of your mission is the first tool I am offering you, in fact,” said Owen.
He pulled a small, flat item from his pocket. It was about the size of a traditional poker chip but solid black. I recognized it as a variation of a recording device. It was a burner, though, good for one use before deleting itself automatically. Owen tossed it to me.
“I trust you know what that device is and what it does once you’ve accessed its information,” he said, and I simply nodded. “Complete details of your mission are on that device. As I said, you’ll get no further instructions and these will not be available again. So, please take care to memorize what you need the first time around.”
“Fine, but how is this supposed to be a tool for me to keep the crew from going off rails?” I asked.
“I think the details might motivate at least some of your crew to see the mission through on its merits alone,” he said. “Although, from tonight’s revelations, it’s obvious that some of your associates prefer to prioritize their own self-interests over the greater good or even the well-being of the crew.”
“And what tools can you offer me to deal with that?” I prodded.
“My employers realize that offering to pay your debts was an underestimation on their part,” he continued. “It is obvious that you are all more than capable of acquiring the necessary funds yourselves. So, they want to present a different offer of payment, should you complete your mission successfully.”
He paused briefly to give me time to digest his words.
“You have my attention,” I said. “What does your boss have to offer that is better than money or the clearance they’ve already provided?”
“Information. We are aware of some areas of inquiry your crew might find enticing. As I said previously, my sponsors thrive on knowing information before anyone else. The identity and whereabouts of the assassin that attacked your cybernetic friend, for example, or what mysterious circumstances brought your transport under attack in the first place.”
“You know all of that?” I said, disbelievingly.
“Some of it,” he admitted. “The rest would be quite easy for my employers to uncover. Including answers to the questions you planned to seek out on Toran.”
At his words, I felt physically startled, and I knew he could read it in my expression and posture. How did he know why I was traveling to Toran when this all began? Since that first blaster shot had punched through the side of the transport, I hadn’t even had time to catch my breath long enough to think about what I had been doing before all of this. So, how could Owen or his bosses possibly know anything about it?
“We know you won’t bolt on the mission, Skye,” he continued. “That wouldn’t be a very Outlaw thing to do. So, consider it another courtesy from my employers for your trouble.”
There was a long silence as I considered his words. Finally, Owen tipped a hand to his brow as he walked back down the alley away from me.
“I see I’ve given you a lot to consider,” he said. “Your mission is in two days. Make sure you read the file before then and are ready.”
With that he was gone, dissolved into the shadows like part of the inky night.
* * *
My earlier urgency had vanished. I stood in the alley, frozen, weighing the implications of Owen’s words. None of the mission details, threats to revoke our clearances, or even solving the mystery of who sabotaged the transport mattered to me in that moment.
He knew why you were going to Toran, Skye. HOW did he know why you were going to Toran?
I hadn’t told a soul, not even Ascella, about my suspicions. Who exactly were Owen’s so-called sponsors? Could they read minds? And the fact that they were offering to give me answers to questions that I hadn’t even been sure were valid to ask in the first place, must mean that I was on to something. Right?
Uncharacteristically lost in my thoughts, I didn't hear Dick approach until he was right up on me, although he hadn’t been trying to sneak up on me this time.
“Skye...” he said in a concerned tone. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah...yeah,” I said, mentally shaking myself. “Although I’m surprised to see you here. I figured after I put you on the spot, you’d be headed to the cargo bay by now.”
“Oh it was definitely my first intention, believe me,” he said. “But I sensed Owen skulking around as I was leaving and doubled back.”
“You were here the whole time, then?” I asked. “Do you think he knew you were there?”
“Not a chance,” he said confidently. “He only caught me off guard the first time we met. That’s not a mistake I’m going to repeat.”
“We should talk about this back at the ship,” I said, “assuming you’re still willing to stick it out with us.”
Dick searched my face intently. He was looking for traces of what had been bothering me earlier. I hadn’t been able to hide my initial reaction and preoccupation from him.
“Why not,” he finally said with a sigh, and we turned to walk down the alley toward the street. “I can’t very well leave without what I came for, and, just to be completely transparent, I definitely still intend to get what I came for.”
My thoughts turned to the story he had told in the cage. I hadn’t really given any thought to what any of my fellow survivors had going on before this series of unlucky events changed everything. And while I had been able to file my own objectives into the back of my brain somewhere, my goals didn’t have an expiration date.
“I understand,” I said, sincerely. “You’ve got people who depend on it. If I had the chance to save the people who once depended on me, I wouldn’t let anything stand in my way, either.”
I wondered who this loved one was he was desperately trying to save and how the entity in our ship’s floor figured into it. Was someone being held hostage until he stole whatever this thing was? I decided my questions could wait until we were back at the transport.
Emerging out of the alleyway, we stopped to wait on traffic before crossing to the transport depot. I could feel his gaze fixated on my face for a long moment, again. When I finally looked over and met his gaze, he gave me one of those classic Dick sexy smirks.
“Well, hey, there are other perks to sticking around,” he teased. “I mean, as a kid, I always dreamed of having a sexy babysitter.”