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WE WERE ASSIGNED to dock 11 this time, but the dispatchers again gave us a hangar practically at the very center of the huge discoid Kast-Utsh III station. And as far as I could tell from the docking license, its dimensions were just as modest as the last time. I suspect that after the Tolili-Ukh X frigate miraculously made it into the tiny hangar before, the dispatchers added a note to their database reading, “holy crap, it actually fit!!!” And now, from here on out, my starship would probably always be given spots just like this one.
Pilot San-Doon looked so concentrated and serious it gave me goosebumps. With Gerd Any translating commands from the dispatchers, he professionally directed the maneuver thrusters to turn the Tolili-Ukh X frigate around, reduce speed and, strictly following our provided vector, bring the ship to the dock’s capture area. A slight shiver followed, letting us know our ship was firmly held by the gravity crane and we could turn off our engines. Only after that did the Pilot wipe the tension from his face and allow himself to smile:
“Leng Gnat La-Fin, I did it! I have to admit, I was not expecting I could do that!!!”
I gave the pilot an encouraging shoulder pat. Good job! Perhaps it wasn’t quite as confident or quick as main pilot Dmitry Zheltov would have done, but what mattered was that he did what needed to be done. Experience and mastery would come with time.
And again the gravity crane dragged our starship down a two-and-a-half-mile-long tunnel at an impossibly slow speed. And although this was San-Doon’s first time on a space station and he was positively gaping in surprise, staring wide-eyed and commenting in delight on the endless rows of exotic starships in the hangars, I was already used to it. Furthermore, I had something more important to attend to. The Navigator and I were trying to figure out the hiding spot coordinates Vaa told me, which I had faithfully recorded on a piece of plastic with a felt-tipped pen.
“No, no. Other side,” I corrected Ayukh, who started entering data into the navigation system from the rectangles scratched into the back side of the plastic. “Turn it over. I wrote on the other side with blue pen. But wait... What is that? Is that actually legible Miyelonian?”
The experienced Navigator gave a rumble of satisfaction and said it was the coordinates of an object moving along a fixed trajectory. Well, well! Now that’s a surprise! When Vaa the Morphian started giving me the number, I simply couldn’t find anything appropriate at hand and took down the info on a piece of plastic I pulled from my inventory, just on the back side. I should have shown this shard of plastic to the Navigator right after finding it in the pirate captain’s berth. We could have solved this now ancient mystery and figured out what secrets the head of the Pride of the Bushy Shadow was hiding.
“Here’s what’s written in marker” said the Navigator, zooming in on his work monitor. And right before our eyes unfolded a map of a lifeless planetoid pocked with innumerable craters. “Meleyephatian space. Approximately forty days’ flight for our frigate. The Rowonti-Tor system, sixth satellite of the second planet. Somewhere around here,” a set of crosshairs pointed to one of the small craters.
Ayukh stroked his nose with his paw in thought, checking the numbers on the plastic again and staring at the screen, after which he added:
“The last number is negative, which must mean the point is located beneath the surface. Something is buried there and not too deep!”
That sounds exactly right! The stash of ancient Relict artifacts was buried not far beneath the surface of an uninhabitable planetoid. Although... it was pretty far from us. Forty days in flight. No matter how badly I wanted to reach the ancient treasure quickly, we were too pressed for time to waste forty days each way. No, that was a luxury we couldn’t afford.
“Okay, and the second set of coordinates? The ones scratched into the plastic?”
This time the Navigator spent a longer time calculating, but eventually finished up and said:
“The uninhabitable C9004/AW system, which has a small black hole next to a double star. It is considered unstable, but the first of the stars won’t be swallowed up for at least four hundred million tongs. There are no planets in the system, just an ice comet, which has a very elongated elliptical orbit centered around the system’s center of mass. By all appearances, the coordinates do not point to the comet’s core, but one of the small objects in its tail. It’s hard to say what it is exactly. The scratches here only give orbit period and a precise time.”
“Is it far from us?” I asked without particular enthusiasm after his last answer. But this time, Ayukh’s replay perked me right up:
“To cop a phrase, it’s stone’s throw. It’s the next system over from Kasti-Utsh. Just one ummi’s flight. A bit less even.”
Ugh, why didn’t I show this piece of plastic to the Navigator before?! We could have been looking for this treasure instead of sitting around out practically penniless on a Miyelonian station for the next few standard days, awaiting our crew. But clearly the black hole system would be our next destination right after we got the crew back together and intercepted the Dark Faction freighter near the station.
* * *
“I REGRET TO INFORM you, Leng Gnat, but you and your crew cannot enter the Kasti-Utsh III station,” the bushy-tailed orange-furred registration service worker pressed a button on his instrument panel, closing the glass door in front of us.
What?! Neither I nor Gerd Ayni, Tini or Anya from First Medical, who were all with me, could have ever imagined this. What do you mean we can’t enter the station? Why not?
“The captain has pirate status, level two even. Leng Gnat’s entry in the database is marked ‘banned.’ Pirates like him are not allowed to visit the trading station.”
“But I have already been to Kasti-Utsh III with the very same pirate status! They let me through no problem before, along with the rest of my crew! What changed in the last few days?”
I was not simply shocked. I was deflated because, if I wasn’t allowed to visit the trade hub, all my other plans unraveled. I couldn’t sell the platinum or the four dangerous guard robots. And I couldn’t visit the antiquities trader or buy necessary goods for our onward flight. This put us at risk of true catastrophe! And no matter how I busted my brains over my unexpected ban, I still couldn’t understand the true reason.
Maybe Miyelonian Fleet Commander Kung Keetsie-Myau had somehow guessed that the valuable crystal data drive had slipped through her paws, got seriously offended at me and was doing this to show her anger? Unlikely, to be honest. Furthermore, I had already righted that wrong, handing the crystal off to her through Second Geckho Strike Fleet Commander Kung Waid Shishish. Or perhaps the workers had traced the Jarg back to my frigate? I was reminded that the administration of the Kasti-Utsh III station had serious problems with my spiny Analyst. And although I left the Jarg back on the frigate, perhaps their anger at him was transferred to me, his official captain? I also found that somehow hard to believe. Might it be due to the Morphian? No, that was insane. No one from around here could have known there was a Morphian in my crew.
Tired of getting wrapped up in guesses, I asked the registration service worker to tell me the real reason for my ban, because clearly my pirate status was not the issue here.
“I have no way of knowing, Leng Gnat. My job is merely to check documents,” the plump, well-fed Miyelonian with shiny golden-orange fur returned my identification crystal as way to say the conversation was over. “Next!”
I probably would have dutifully turned around and trudged back to my frigate, but I heard Gerd Ayni’s voice sound out in outrage behind me:
“Captain, he’s lying! He knows everything, he just doesn’t want to say! He has a rank-five registration-service employee badge on his bracelet. That means he has complete access to arrival data. I myself worked for the registration service for quite some time, so I know perfectly well that pirates are only denied access to public trade hubs starting at danger-level five. And in practice, individual employees make a lot of exceptions to that rule! Some Free Captains are let through even at danger level nine!”
“Shut it, you murdering scum!” the rude Miyelonian hissed threateningly at my Translator. “You’re about to earn yourself a lifetime ban from all Miyelonian planets and stations! In fact, it’s weird they haven’t banned you already!”
Authority reduced to 64!
Gerd Ayni took a step back in fear and closed her mouth. I on the other hand flared up. How dare this overfed Miyelonian insult and humiliate a member of my crew, especially a high-profile one?! I was about to intervene before I received a system message notifying me that my Authority had dropped. That served as a catalyst, adding to my anger and determination.
“Shut your snout you flea-ridden ball of mange!” The registration service employer crouched down in fear at my exclamation and stayed like that, perfectly still with his eyes glazed over.
Psionic skill increased to level ninety-four!
Mental Fortitude skill increased to level ninety-eight!
You have reached level eighty-eight!
You have received three skill points.
Only after did I realize what I’d done. A magic attack on a registration service employee in the line of duty... That could lead to a very serious mess... There was no end to the trouble that could land me in. At the very least I could be expelled from Kasti-Utsh III, if they didn’t confiscate my ship and add me to the list of individuals banned from Miyelonian planets and stations. However, I absolutely could not allow a member of my crew to be insulted and have their snout dragged through the mud in my presence – otherwise what kind of captain would I be? And I’d like to see that Miyelonian try and prove that I used magic against him! Without bringing in Truth Seekers, it would be practically impossible – no logs, no traces. And with my high psionic defense, extracting information from me was not such an easy task!
There was no longer an easy way out, so I continued putting pressure on the Miyelonian:
“Look me in the eyes, you overfed piece of shit! Yeah, like that. And now tell me why I was banned from visiting Kasti-Utsh III. For some reason I can’t catch any of your scatterbrained thoughts. Think a bit harder if you still know how!”
Amidst the very powerful fear, disconnected fragments of thoughts and emotions, something sensible finally broke through:
“This man is dangerous. He is going to kill me. Just the way he’s looming over me, staring with his ghastly glimmering eyes. And he has a terrifying reputation. Oh well, no matter. I’ve already earned twenty crypto for tipping off the Pride of the Bushy Shadow that their man has arrived. So I won’t be going to respawn for nothing. And if Leng Gnat does kill me, he still won’t be able to get onto the station – the doors are closed! I added a criminal marker to his documents, so half the job is already done. And he won’t be able to leave the station either. Now we just need time so the pirate pride’s goons can get here. They’re already rushing this way. And then I’ll get more than just twenty crypto. As the informant, I’ll be entitled to ten percent of the take. The dispatchers said he has a large shipment of platinum on board. So we cannot allow Leng Gnat to enter the station and sell it!”
Oh, how interesting... It was just this fatcat’s everyday greed, conspiring with station dispatchers to place a criminal marker into my file for a payoff. I didn’t know whether a rank-five employee had the authority to do that or not, and it didn’t make much difference. Much more important was that there were killers working for the Pride of the Bushy Shadow rushing this way! And as bad luck would have it, I only had six crew members, and only Denni Marko was of a combat class, a Bodyguard. This is about to be a real shitshow, there’s no other way to put it...
No, I was not afraid, not even a little bit. But my rage was simply overflowing! The pirates had me caught in a trap... or to be more accurate, they thought they did. What they don’t know is that I’m not going down without a fight! And when you back an animal into a corner, it’s twice as dangerous! My brain was working full bore, scrolling through all my options. First of all, could I count on any help?
“Ayni, you have a better idea how this all works. Is the Pride of the Bushy Shadow really allowed to just send goons into our hangar and attack us on Kasti-Utsh III? Can they get away with it? I thought this was a place of law and order, not some pirate station. Shouldn’t the authorities step in?”
“You’re right about that, captain. No one would dare attack us and think they could get away with it. Unless the Pride of the Bushy Shadow pays the required fee to the station owners and officially declares war. Then it would be purely our concern. The station won’t interfere. But war is a costly indulgence, so I don’t think...”
Ayni didn’t finish her sentence because we all suddenly saw identical system messages:
ATTENTION!!! The Pride of the Bushy Shadow has issued an official declaration of war on the Relict Faction! Zone of conflict: all interior areas of the Kasti-Utsh III station, except residential sectors and the administration floor. A deposit of one hundred twenty thousand crypto has been paid. Combat activity shall begin immediately and last until one of the parties achieves total victory or the losing side pays the victor reparations of four hundred eighty thousand crypto.
Fame increased to 77.
* * *
HRM... NOT GOOD... By the looks of things, I could no longer count on station security for help. I was encountering this for the first time and immediately asked Ayni all details of these administratively permitted conflicts. We could end the war immediately by paying the reparations. Then the aggressor would not be allowed to initiate another war against us for the next five standard days. All structural damage to the station and damage to property belonging to uninvolved players would be paid by the losing party as well. And there were essentially no other limitations or rules to speak of – kill one another as many times as you like and however you like, as long as it doesn’t bother other players!
Tini cut into our conversation and said:
“News channels are always eager to buy footage of such battles. They have a ravenous fan base all throughout the Galaxy. Captain, if you like, I could take a video.”
And really, why not? We could touch up the footage after if needed, cut out anything we wanted to keep secret, then sell the recording. And my kitten made another suggestion as well – that we bet money at a gambling machine because “permitted” battles always drew the interest of station residents and local bookies alike. But I declined that. I didn’t have any money to spare, or confidence that we would in fact emerge victorious.
So what were our options here? A cowardly thought bubbled up that I should try and sell all our platinum and just give the pirates their payout, but I immediately decided against it. We hadn’t been beaten yet, so it was too early to consider surrender. I was also opposed to just quickly leaving the station. First of all, we wouldn’t be allowed to leave our dock with the criminal marker. Second, in ten to twelve hours the rest of my crew would be arriving to Kasti-Utsh III and I couldn’t just leave them to be torn to shreds by bloodthirsty pirates.
Okay then, so what should we do? We were short on time, but our opponent would need some time to gather their forces and run down the corridors of the gigantic station. So we’d have to prepare and show those pirates just how badly mistaken they were to think of us as easy prey! For starters, I needed access to a service terminal – there we could enter false information to throw them off. But first I need to somehow get rid of the corrupt Miyelonian still sitting there limply, staring dumbly at a fixed point. I couldn’t simply kill him. I saw video camera lenses right above the employee’s booth. And although mental attacks couldn’t be detected by camera and microphone, a physical attack would surely be noticed at once.
I needed to come at this from another angle and take advantage of a tradition of the Miyelonian race:
“Tini, challenge that scumbag level-57 Administrator to a ritual duel! He insulted our Ayni, he insulted your captain, he sold us out to our enemies!”
“Yes, captain!” my ward took a decisive step forward, pulling out an excellent pair of daggers that had once belonged to Big Abi himself. But then the kitten sized up his opponent, froze and looked at me: “Leng Gnat, this tub of lard doesn’t look like much of a fighter. What if he refuses?”
“He won’t!” I reassured my ward, not clarifying that the “tub of lard” was under my control and would do exactly as I commanded. “He’ll accept the challenge. And if he doesn’t have any blades, lend him your backup set. Say the ritual phrase and take your opponent over there,” I pointed to a section of corridor out of reach of the security cameras.
Mentally, I sent detailed instructions to Tini:
“Don’t kill him right away. Immobilize him and make sure you take the bracelet off his paw – that’s the key to the registration service terminal. Then take him out. But also take his tail just in case. I understand that this level-57 fatso is not a serious opponent for you, but we don’t want any problems with his Pride of the Heavenly Eye.”
My ward confirmed with a silent nod that he understood, and turned to his opponent, asking in proper form:
“Ah-sahntee maye-uu-u rezsh shashash-u?”
It’s probably not worth giving a detailed description of the duel because the overfed Administrator offered no resistance. Even though I released his mind, it was still entirely one-sided. Tini disarmed and immobilized his clumsy slow-moving opponent with virtuosic talent, tore off his bracelet and then, in the gruesome tradition of Fox the Morphian, put on a real snuff show, disemboweling his opponent in the literal sense of the word. And while the corrupt official died of severe blood loss and terminal wounds, the young Thief had the time to clean out his inventory.
So then, step one of the plan was complete. Now on to step two. Again mentally, I sent a message to Vaa:
“The body must be devoured. Leave no trace! Then turn into that same Miyelonian. It’s in your own interest! Spend a bit of time as him, then you can disappear on the station without a trace.”
Knowing nothing about the Morphian, Tini gasped in horror when he saw a human girl suddenly get down on all fours, turn into a voracious fanged monster and throw itself on the bloodied corpse. Gerd Ayni, although she was more aware, also had a hard time fighting back nausea as she watched the disgusting spectacle. And meanwhile, in just twenty seconds, Vaa had cleaned up all traces of the duel and taken the form of the fat Miyelonian administrator.
“Great! Take the key and activate his service terminal. Gerd Ayni can tell you how it works. And for starters, close the armored doors leading from the hallway. That’ll earn us a bit of time and force our enemy to look for another way in! Then change our frigate’s stationing bay – have the gravity crane bring our ship to a more spacious hangar, and have it position our nose cannons toward the door into the hallway. Then delete that from the system log so they won’t know we restationed – make them search for us!”
“Captain, we could also mark hangar 11-766 as our new location,” Ayni suggested and explained for the others: “According to the database, there is a Trillian escort destroyer there being repaired after a battle with Miyelonian pirates. They’re very serious guys and have their own scores to settle with pirates, so they definitely won’t be happy to see our foes.”
“Great! Do that then!” I approved the Translator’s suggestion. “And now look and see what kind of forces our opponent has at their disposal. How many Pride of the Bushy Shadow starships are currently docked here? And how many pride members are currently on the Kasti-Utsh III station?”
The “fat Administrator” started reading the terminal closely, with Ayni actively helping him figure it out. After a bit of time, they found the answers:
“Leng Gnat, the Pride of the Bushy Shadow has three starships here. Two Tiopeo-Myhh II interceptors in hangars down the seventh maneuver tunnel, and an Akati-Po II ore carrier at dock ten. Between the three ships, there are seventeen registered crewmembers. And there are another thirty-five members of the Pride of the Bushy Shadow living on the station.”
Alright, I see. Fifty players, and nowhere near all of them of combat class. Not all that many really. But still more than enough to take us down.
“Friends, let’s give the pirates a nice little distraction! Ayni, you said that two of their interceptors are stationed in the same maneuver corridor? Great, clear one of the interceptors from the database and give an order to move the second starship to the ‘free hangar.’ Override all possible collision tests. Have the gravity crane just jam the ship in no matter what it takes. Would that be doable?”
“Yes captain,” Gerd Ayni answered meekly, fearfully pressing her ears down as she clearly had a vivid imagination of what would happen when the two fairly fragile and expensive starships collided.
But she didn’t argue and her clawed paws started flying over the screen, tracing figures to give commands to the station’s robots. And while the Translator was busy, I gave out my next portion of instructions:
“Then remove the criminal marker from me so that we can go onto the station, and so our frigate will have permission to leave dock. Done? Great! And the pirate frigate is already underway to the new dock? Just wonderful! And now the most important part: we have precious little time, but we also need to sell off our cargo, buy a bunch of stuff and make a couple last-minute hires.”
