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The Tale of G.O.D.
14. ~Cultural Differences~

14. ~Cultural Differences~

“Sometimes, you kick a rock and get an avalanche.”

***Pirate Base, Virtil Station***

***Antioch***

“He said that the Chimera is crap!” I complain when we finally leave the room after one hour of negotiations. Well, the Chimera is crap, but having it told to my face is still insulting. “I would like to see how he does when he is left drifting in space with the useless wrecks of three different ships.”

“He didn't know that,” Silith says placatingly. “Do we have anything else on our list? Otherwise, I suggest we explore the rest of the market. Maybe we can find something useful.”

Crossing my arms, I ponder the suggestion. “Do you think that's worth the risk? Didn't we agree to leave as soon as we have what we want?”

Despite my reluctance to admit it, Hob was very helpful and left me with an impression of him being a professional. His services were pricey, much more so because the information which we bought was for the most part publicly available – if we went to the right places. But paying him saved us time and the issue of visiting several different cultures in the galactic neighbourhood.

Apparently, everyone has their own little dos and don'ts.

Aside from giving some helpful advice, he also made it clear that we aren't paying so much for the information itself, but more so that he keeps his lips sealed about us. He also counselled us not to buy any of the ships which are available on this station. Not that we have the money for it.

“I know that. Believe me, I am also not eager to stay here for longer than necessary.” She nods, showing me that she agrees wholeheartedly. “Though, there are some points we have to take into account.”

She starts counting on her fingers. “One. It will take Hob nine hours to copy his database and transport it to our ship, whereupon we will pay him. So there is some time left which we have to put to good use before we can leave the station.

“Two. There is still the quest.

“Three. Hob mentioned that scrap yard which may have the FTL-engines of an old G.S. Destroyer. We can't buy a whole ship, but we may be able to buy a better engine.”

I pull down the corners of my mouth. “You are aware that a spaceship is a very complicated device. You can't simply cut out the engine and expect it to work in another ship. Assuming that I even manage to understand it.”

“Okay, but what do you suggest? It's not like we don't have our hardware backups back in our ship.” She shrugs. “We don't risk losing everything if we gamble for a little more.”

“Every day I manage without hardware backup is a good day.” I sigh and look at the ceiling. “Okay, but we are certainly not doing it to complete the quest. We go in a straight line to the scrap yard and then we take a transport back to our ship.”

Silith shudders and her pupils widen slightly. “Are you sure that it isn't better to walk?”

I open my mouth to deny the proposal of walking, but I stop myself just in time. “Maybe? No... We will decide once we've had a nice look at the available vehicles.”

“I guess that's fine, even though it didn't work out that well the last time,” she answers, slowly picking her way through the words.

With a new course of action, we set out and leave the information trader's business.

The street is still as busy as it was before, and it's slow going through the mob. People bump into us from all directions and more than once some tentacle tries to grab my belongings. By the end of the trip, Silith and I are walking with knives out, ready to cut any sticky appendages.

The both of us stick to each other like glue, seeking safety.

There are various vendors on the streets, offering everything there is. From items of convenience to weapons, instruments, and food, the market seems to have everything.

We stop several times to buy seeds. Silith got the idea to create a hydroponic garden. Since we aren't sure that there will always be a convenient place to stock up on our consumables, I am in on the idea. After all, we have a long trip ahead of us.

I am somewhat dumbfounded when we stop by a large gathering of people. They are all standing in front of a stage with two people in the lamplight. In the background, a menagerie of others is waiting.

One is an amphibian with a strong resemblance to the creatures who attacked me a few months ago. It is reciting numbers while a sparsely dressed and almost human-looking alien is standing next to it. Were it not for the long, furry ears and the enticing tail, I would have said that she is a human.

That's when Silith reaches for my side and gets a hold of a little bit of fat-tissue and skin. Using her strength, she twists sharply, her fingers feeling like steel pincers. “We won't buy any slaves!”

My skin is a lot sturdier and there is the additional armour, but it does little against such a devious attack. “Ow! Ow!” I slap her hand away, only now realizing what the reciting of numbers means. This isn't some sort of show, they are selling that person. Rubbing my side, I scowl at the scene. “Sorry, I didn't realize that I was staring.”

I have to be more careful in the future. One hour without major incident and I was feeling like this place is safe.

“Let's go.” Silith turns away and follows the map's guidance down the street.

I quickly follow her, hoping that she doesn't think of me as the kind of person who would buy slaves. Not that I wouldn't do something to stop it if I could. Sadly, as things stand, we would likely end up in slavery ourselves if we tried to help the poor sods.

As we leave, I am uncomfortably aware of the eyes which are following us. Our strange behaviour drew a little more attention than I would have wished for.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Once we are safely hidden within the crowd, I can finally relax again. Aside from the open slave market, we reach the scrap yard without any trouble. The building which is housing the 'aspiring' enterprise is located right next to the slaver's den, which looks like a huge warehouse.

Unlike my expectations, we don't arrive at a giant pile of trash, but at another office. After thinking about it, I have to chide myself. If this scrap-trader buys and sells wrecked ships, then it's unlikely that he will store all the ships at the station. He most likely has a large hangar somewhere, or has the wrecks floating outside the station.

Again, Silith takes over the negotiations with the tentacled being who owns the enterprise. The creature reminds me of one of the research assistants at my old home, but they probably just belong to the same species.

Allowing Silith to do the talking also gives me the chance to rummage through the station's network and the alien's computer systems. Unlike Hob's systems, which were impenetrable even to me, the scrap yard dealer's devices are easily accessible.

The old destroyer which Hob recommended to us turns out to be worth its money. According to the records, it wasn't even stripped of the vital components. Which means that it must also have the technology for artificial gravity installed.

The reason why it is so cheap is that it is totally shot up and perforated like cheddar cheese. Life support and the computer system are definitely unusable, and the same goes for the hull. Just looking at the damage tells me that someone with a big gun didn't have any warm feelings for the old pirate ship. Repairing the damage would be almost as much work as building a new ship.

While Silith negotiates for the price, I recommend a second, smaller ship to her. According to the records, the vessel isn't much more than a hull. That doesn't change the fact that it's almost as cheap as the metal which it is built of. Mining metals on the journey would cost time and effort, so having a readily available source at hand wouldn't be so bad.

We just have to take a little more time to accelerate all the crap away from the asteroid. The warp-drive itself doesn't care about the amount of mass it transports, just about the volume. And in case that the hull turns out to be usable, I could restore the thing as some sort of rescue-craft.

Silith ends up buying both wrecks, almost depleting our tradeable goods. Most of them are electronic circuits from the military transport and the pirate ship. To us, they don't hold much more value than the raw materials they are made of. My Nano-Engis turned out to be quite capable of manufacturing anything I need, given that I provide the raw elements.

The pirates, on the other hand, don't seem to have access to such ingenious 3D-printing techniques, so they hold the finished products in high regard.

I decide to share my thoughts with Silith. 'Sometime we have to find out if the Nano-Worker's ability to take any raw material and to reassemble it at the atomic level is considered forbidden technology. So far, it seems like neither the pirates, nor the G.S. have access to it. Why else should the G.S. waste the space on their transports with electronic circuits?'

'You are right, but I have a feeling that it would be a bad idea to ask about it now. The answer to that question wouldn't change our current situation anyway,' Silith answers.

It takes a little longer, but Silith finally manages to conclude the business. We excuse ourselves and leave the premises of the scrap-trader.

Since Silith leaves the building in front of me, I only notice the ring of amphibian aliens when we are already out on the street. They cleared a generous area around the entrance of the scrap-trader. Additionally, most of the previously busy street is empty.

Just as I want to turn and pull Silith back into the scrap-trader's business, metal shutters roll over the windows and a heavy blast-door slams closed at incredible speed, sealing the entrance.

“Juuust peachy,” I grumble and turn back to face the amphibians. There are ten of them and all are holding weapons.

One of them steps forward, pointing a long, iron bar at us. “Take off your hoods,” it rattles with a hissing voice. “We have reason to believe that you two might be some rare merchandise. Why else would you try to hide behind such an obvious masquerade?”

To my pride, Silith doesn't waver. “Why should we do that? It's not like you have any authority.”

“On this station rules the authority of the strong,” the amphibian answers. “Get them. Alive.”

Up until then, I had several seconds to decide on what to do. The only answer I came up with was to try out some of the many weapons which I am carrying with me. I don't like fighting, but at some point, I have to man up! And the thought of them hurting Silith is simply unforgivable! That thought is all it takes to make me angry.

I pick three egg-sized flash-grenades from my belt and throw them over Silith's shoulders. Then I grab her and whirl her around, sheltering her with my body and covering her ears.

There are three loud booms and flashes of light. Some piece of metal scrapes off my shoulder and something digs into my back, but thanks to the new nano-armour the wounds remain minor surface damage.

As I turn around and get back up, I make up my mind to thank Silith once more for advising me on that particular upgrade.

The plasma guns practically jumps into my hand and I start firing at the slavers with guns while I reach for the multi-tool at my thigh. Three go down screaming while the others are still blind and deaf from the grenades.

The multi-tool is a handle with a monomolecular blade of variable length. A flip of the switch brings the force fields to life which enhance the weapon's sturdiness. Otherwise, such an item would break with the first cut. Normally, it would be used to quickly cut through the panelling of ship-walls, but when I took it from the workshop, I thought that it's even better for cutting people.

The straight blade unfolds to its maximum length with a flick of my wrist. The amphibian closest to me neatly separates into two pieces. His upper body falls off, while his lower body keeps going down the street like a headless chicken.

Another one loses his arms and legs with two quick swipes.

Silith is still down on her butt, but by now she managed to fumble for her plasma gun. She dispatches of two of the hoodlums in quick succession, aiming the hits flawlessly between their eyes.

I disembowel a third one and shoot the others who are still stumbling around, blinded. Then my attention wanders to the amphibian's accommodation which is right next to us. There are still several slaves on the stage, together with the auctioneer. He is rubbing his eyes and is cursing in a guttural tongue.

Most of the people who were still on the street and had watched the scene are doing similar things. Maybe I should use just one of those grenades the next time.

Aiming my gun, I shoot the auctioneer twice, feeling a grim satisfaction when he goes down screaming, announcing his pain to all the world.

I intentionally aimed for spots which didn't look vital to his species.

The slave from earlier scrambles forward and rummages with quick, effective movements through the auctioneer's pockets. When he tries to stop her, her fingernails lengthen and she draws them over his throat. Green blood spurts out in a fountain and his struggles quickly come to an end. A second later, she raises a fist-sized device triumphantly into the air. “Freedom!” With the press of a button, the shackles around her neck and limbs spring open and fall off.

The same happens for another slave who was looking out from behind the stage. “Freedom! Freedom!” The little, yellow fellow picks up the chant and adds its own innocent line. Who knows how that alien's mind may work?

“Down with the slavers!” It turns and runs back into the slaver's building, continuing to chant the words like a battle cry.

Moments later, there is a chorus of voices coming from inside. At a guess, I would say that there are at least a hundred of them.

“Freedom! Freedom! Down with the slavers!”

G.O.D.: Congratulations! You have started a slave revolt!

G.O.D.: Hidden-Quest: Free the Slaves! – Complete!

Rewards: Increased standing with the slaves. Lowered standing with the pirates, should they find out about your involvement. Accelerated Mental Growth for: 10%

G.O.D.: New Side-Quest: Explore the Pirate Station! – Complete!

Reward: You get to choose one new skill!

“Nononono!” I use my palms to rub my temples. “I didn't intend to do that!”

My comrade finally manages to gather herself. She gets up and jumps over the mess of the guy who I cut in two, making her way through the carnage. Silith grabs me by the collar and starts running, pulling me along. “We have to get out of here!”

“I wouldn't have thought of that!” My legs start pumping, and together we break the speed record for Uhrr physiology, destroying the last doubts of any bystanders. By now, none of the audience should still be of the opinion that two Uhrr were responsible for the carnage at the market.