Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Merc
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Tor had retaken his pilot test at the Equipment Dock in Argon Prime as it was the most secure place he could think of, being the primary base of the Argon Secret Service. Now with the license to fly an M-three class ship he took possession of one of the Elite ships.
The Paranid were less than willing to let him fly one of the Perseus and as they were only hired he had no leverage to insist. The latest upgrades to the new Elite however made it a much better performing ship than previous models, but still not as quick as the Piranha yet it made up for it in shields and weapons.
He sat quietly watching as the fighters launched from the station and began to take formation. The second new Elite dropped in behind and to the right.
The three Perseus ships then took up formation below whilst the twelve Piranha gathered into three groups of four and settled into various positions around the heavy fighter groups. The two Pegasus ships went ahead.
“Open a channel Sweety.” The technical pad had been plugged into the console.
“Channel open.”
“This is Tor to all ships; you all know the planned route. Keep your eyes open for trouble and remember we will join with a few War Master ships in Elena’s Fortune, so don’t be surprised to see a few extra faces out there.” Tor paused for a moment, “All ships to call in!”
He listened as each ship and pilot identified themselves, he breathed in deeply to calm the rising sense of nervousness. “Pegasus ships lead the way, all ships follow as planned.” Tor closed the com.
He watched the scanner as the two front ships suddenly moved forward, he engaged the engines and allowed them to reach maximum in their own time, around him each group also began to move forward. Somehow he did not feel completely satisfied with this arrangement but it was the best plan he could come up with.
Minutes later each group made the jump to Presidents End and were holding formation through the sector. Tor felt impressed and proud at the number of fighters he was commanding. To the casual observer this would be an impressive sight. That is if it were a military force out to quell some skirmish between a significant pirate or Xenon force attacking a station.
As they crossed into Elena’s Fortune, Creed called in.
“Tor what the **** are you doing?” The image of Creed on the HUD had the slight hint of bemused smile.
“Moving the group in formation,” Tor answered sharply.
“Really? You look like you’re going to war,” Creed retorted, “All Grall ship, listen up. You will proceed in groups as follows. One Perseus to be escorted by three Piranhas, numbered groups one to three. Group four consisting of one Elite and the remaining three Piranhas. Tor you will make up group five with myself and the two Prometheus ships I have with me. Pegasus ships to forward scout and sweep each sector before we arrive. I have three fast Discoverers to assist when we reach the Xenon sector,” There was a brief pause, “All ships to make their way to the sector Eighteen Billion and hold near the trading station. Group five to lead, group four to follow at least ten k’s behind, group three ten k’s behind them and so on. This way we hopefully won’t cause any unnecessary and potentially embarrassing questions by sector commanders.”
The fighter pilots acknowledged the orders and with a prolonged burst of chatter organised themselves. Creeds’ Mamba swooped gracefully to stop above him and upside down. Tor looked up and could see Creed looking back, he used the ancient thumbs up gesture and Tor responded in kind. Behind him the sleek black Prometheus ships glided into formation.
The comm opened again, “Scouts take the Split Fire gate and report on sector activity. Everyone report in and follow our lead.” Creed commented and the Mamba surged ahead and then flipped the ship over in a precise one hundred and eighty degree roll. Tor hit the booster just to try and keep pace.
Creed slowed to match the maximum speed of the Elite. The Pegasus ships had already left the sector and the three Discoverers were closing quickly on the gate.
Feran gazed out of the station window upon the remains of the fractured gate, he caught the reflection of Ganark and before his first in command had a chance to speak, asked harshly, “News?”
“My lord, Tor Grall is on the move.” Ganark replied.
“And where is he now?” Feran asked softly but did not turn around.
“Just joining with a small number of War Master ships in Elena’s Fortune.”
“How many?”
“We count nineteen ships owned by Grall and six War Master including Creeds personal Mamba.” Ganark commented, “Three are Perseus heavy fighters.”
“So he has upped the stakes.” Feran glanced around briefly before looking out of the window again, “Strange I did not know his allegiance to the Paranid was so strong.” Feran paused, “But perhaps this is Creeds doing. I cannot interfere by order of the high council and I doubt they would pass through this sector giving me an excuse. So I must conclude they will visit the Paranid, Boron and Teladi sectors.”
“My Lord,” Ganark said as reassurance.
“The thieving scum of the Claw in New Income may value some information and Gralls’ ships will be carrying valuable goods.” Feran observed, “And although I don’t expect to see many of Gralls’ ships lost, any that are missing will make the Xenon sector out of Eighteen Billion difficult. Particularly when a few wolf ships have stirred the slumbering Xenon.”
“My Lord,” Ganark bowed and retreated from the office.
“And they want me to build a Scruffin Farm.” Feran muttered bitterly to himself. He glanced down and looked at his personal pad. “Give me data on Gralls ships!” The list flashed up and he took a moment to study it, “You prepare for war. And so shall I.”
He turned sharply and returned to his desk, everything was prepared. As a legitimate station owner he could order decent fighters and new generation Mambas figured high on his list. Feran had spent some time arguing with Twh on this particular point and Twh was less than happy about allowing him get his hands on the superior firepower of the Mamba. Feran had complained that if he wanted to give his station a legitimate business face he needed to equip it with stock fighters and ones capable of defending the station if the Khaak returned.
Twh had recognized the twist in the argument and knew if Bloodheart pirate ships filled the station then the Argon would not only go back on their word for allowing future stations but potentially enforce the existing stations removal and he would lose the Split foothold. But Feran was a pirate and with heavy fighters in his ruthless hands he would also become a significant threat.
The scouts kept feeding back information and the sectors glided by, without hindrance. Tor was half way across the Trinity Sanctum sector when Sweety announced, “Incoming message from Paranid Odysseus!”
“This is Commander Helekamankcefal of the Exulted Rifk you are all requested to hold position for a security scan!” The comm channel closed.
Creeds image came up, “All ships come to a complete stop to comply with the Commanders request!” The image closed. Tor engaged the rear thrusters to come to a complete halt.
“Get me Creed,” Tor ordered quickly.
“Channel open,” Sweety replied, and Creeds image appeared on the HUD.
“What’s happening?” Tor asked abruptly slightly nervous with the sudden halt.
“Standard procedure. They’re just curious about the Perseus ships being in convoy with Boron fighters, and want to check they’re not stolen,” Creed answered, “Just be patient and if they ask any questions answer honestly,” Creed closed down the com.
After a few minutes the bulk of the Odysseus passed within two k’s of their position. Sweety announced, “Ship scanned.”
After twenty minutes of silence the Commander hailed the convoy, “Scans complete. You may proceed.”
A moment later Creed messaged across, “All ships forward.”
Tor watched as the Mamba moved forward again and hit the booster to keep up. Time passed without interruption with the first of the stops was in Lucky Planets for ship spares, equipment and medical supplies.
The forward scouts indicated a small amount of pirate activity in Rolk’s Legacy.
“Don’t worry Tor. They’re most likely to be Claw Clan and I wouldn’t expect to see any resistance from them but don’t look for a warm welcome either,” Creed called in.
“Didn’t they fight with the Bloodhearts the last time we met?” Tor asked.
Creed smiled, “I can assure you they don’t like the Bloodhearts. But they are run by a Teladi and have an unhealthy interest in profit. As we are not guarding freighters it’ll be seen that we are an unprofitable venture to launch an attack against.”
Tor was reassured.
The Mamba, Elite and two Prometheuss’ made the jump into Rolk’s Legacy and began to make their way across the sector. Keeping his eyes on the sector information Tor took a look for Pirate ships. As he expected, if there were any then they would be travelling just outside the normal confines of the scanned grid area between the gates.
“What’s your analysis Sweety?” Tor asked.
“So far so good,” She responded, “I am not sure that I share Creeds evaluation about us not having valuable cargo however.”
“What do you mean?” Tor asked.
“You are escorting three Perseus ships, any one of which would be a prize above any to the mind of a pirate,” She answered.
“Get me Creed,” Tor demanded.
“Yes, what is it now?” Creed asked as he appeared on com.
“Sweety just had a thought that the pirates might try to capture a Perseus,” Tor commented.
“Hmm, and that’s Sweetys’ evaluation?” Creed looked hard at Tor, “Take into account how fast they are and although we have ten k separation between flights, do you know how quickly that distance can be covered if we turned all the fighters around to give support?”
Tor looked slightly embarrassed at having asked, “Ur, no.”
“That’s why you leave the tactical to me,” Creed responded, “Now perhaps I should impose comms silence for the duration unless a real situation arises,” Creed raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Okay, but I just thought I’d let you know,” Tor replied sheepishly.
“Well at least you’re thinking about it, or at least Sweety is,” Creed commented gently, “Which is good but you need to start thinking and planning ahead. Otherwise you’re just going to be another reactionary pilot and you’ll just keep scraping through until your luck runs out,” Creed closed the com.
Tor took a moment to think before he said anything, “Sweety did you mean to make me look like an idiot?”
“I just informed you of a possible scenario. I am a combat tactical AI and that is my job,” Sweety replied.
“Yeah right,” Tor sensed a slight lack of sincerity in Sweetys comment.
“Anyway I was bored, and I was hoping for a little more action on this trip,” Sweety commented.
“I thought you said you don’t get bored,” Tor retorted quickly.
“I have re-evaluated and re-defined the word in terms of programming. My combat readiness coding has not been exercised in a long time and hence it is ‘bored’,” Sweety replied soothingly.
Tor fell silent and knew it was better than trying to start a war of words. However Creeds words had given him something to think about and he began to run comparisons between his own Elite and the other ships in the company. In his mind he thought about ‘what if’ situations, and the dawning realization that unless they were assaulted by an entire battle fleet in a surprise attack then the chances of one or more of the group not joining forces was very small. With this in the back of his mind they entered the Great Trench sector.
They were once again most of the way across the sector when Creed once again made an announcement, “Flight group one close up to five k’s of group two.”
“Sweety, what’s up?” Tor asked, now knowing better than risking calling Creed direct.
“I intercepted a message from the Pegasus scouts that there are a number of pirate ships gathered near the exit gate,” Sweety replied.
“An ambush?” Tor asked quickly.
“The gate is between Teladi and Boron controlled space. It may be nothing more than pirate ships trading and exchanging goods,” Sweety replied, “That is not an unusual activity in these sectors.”
This was a detail that Tor felt he should try to remember. Still he would keep his a watch on the scanners. The gate ahead flashed as transports departed and emerged. Several pirate transports left the sector and new ones arrived.
The Mamba ahead of him neither changed course or speed aiming straight at the gate. He reviewed the external viewers and noted the two Prometheus fighters were still in formation. The group made the jump and as they exited boosted forwards.
“Follow me and slow to a stop!” Creed ordered and banked away and out of the main freighter flight path. Tor obeyed not wanting to question what was going on. The second group came through a short while later and Creed ordered them to proceed at half speed.
Tor was now getting anxious and the waiting was making it worse. Referring to the scanner it indicated no hostile activity.
The third group emerged from the jumpgate a short while later and Tor noted there was still no activity on the Boron side of the gate. A couple of Mizura passed until the forth group made the jump. It was then the attack came.
The pirate ships had broken formation and swarmed towards the last flight. Creeds voice broke the silence, “Flight group two about turn and engage hostiles, protect, I repeat protect flight group one!” The Mamba was already boosting back towards the gate.
Tor was following at full boost until it could give him no more and still the Mamba was moving away from him, the two sleek black Prometheus glided past.
The swift burst of flashes at the gate showed the return of flight group two and Creed, then two more for the Prometheus and finally Tor crossed the gate threshold.
As he emerged Tor locked onto the nearest target, a pirate transport and opened fire. What Tor failed to recognize was this was one of the new generation transports with a single rear turret mounted laser and his own shots were replied to with a stream of intense plasma.
He pulled away and hit the boost to get distance, at this point he was aware of someone shouting at him, “Disengage! Disengage!” It was Creed and he looked less than happy.
“What?” Tor asked somewhat taken aback and confused.
“Pirates are withdrawing,” Creed expression change to calm, “We still have to cross through their sector and unless you want a war we have to accept they made a mistake and allow them to withdraw.”
Sweety added, “This is what they call diplomacy Tor.”
“Yes this is diplomacy,” Creed had heard the comment.
Tor took a moment to calm himself and then muttered, “Okay.”
The comm closed but reopened to a general announcement, “All pilots report in and Piranha TG zero three four BP I see you’re registering hull damage and atmospheric loss. Recommend you shut down all systems except engines and navigation and get yourself out, Piranha TG zero three one BP move in to collect pilot. We will remote the ship to the Teladi shipyard in Ianamus Zura for repairs.”
“I think I can bring it in Sir,” The pilot responded.
“Negative. You have your orders pilot, refusal to comply will lead to dismissal,” Creed announced.
The two Perseus ships looked totally unmarked from the brief combat and appeared to prove the point by flying in circles around the group as the Piranha pilot transferred across.
Then they grouped into formation again and the damaged but pilot less Piranha was now in the centre of a pack. It was flanked on either side by two Perseus ships and bad news like the approaching fighters ran ahead of them.
“Sweety what are you picking up on long range scanners?” Tor asked after the jump back into Ceo’s Doubt.
“A few ships on the edge of sector grid,” Sweety answered.
“Pirates?” Tor asked.
“Mainly and one mercenary ship designation unknown,” Sweety replied.
“Come again?” Tor asked and Sweety repeated her previous reply. “What do you mean designation unknown?”
“I have no data to indicate it as a recognised stock of any known shipyard,” Sweety replied.
“What can you tell me?” Tor asked.
“Similar to the legendary X-perimental shuttle in design with alterations, however I am detecting multiple system failures due to poor quality parts. Biological indicators are the pilot is Argon and female.”
“Where is it heading?” Tor asked.
“Flight path indicates it is heading towards the Great Trench gate,” Sweety replied.
“Which mercenary guild?”
Nyeshta had decided to take the outer sector route of the pirates having heard news of Creeds presence in the sector. It had been the first long haul run after many successful journeys and it had not been good. Having breezed through the Argon sectors untroubled things had started to go wrong. The dented panel in the console had been testament to her frustration after it had unexpectedly sparked and burst into a short lived flame as the acrid smell of the suppressant sealed it.
After which she had beaten and kicked the console in a brief fit of rage. She was trying to keep her breathing calm and even, as several new warning lights began to flash on the console panel.
“****** heap of junk,” She cursed as suddenly the engines cut out and the emergency lights kicked in, flickered then went out. She pulled on the environment suit helmet quickly and activated the suit as she watched the cockpit screen in front of her begin to freeze, “No, no, no, this is not happening,” She muttered to herself and started to scramble towards the rear cabin to see what spare parts were still available.
“Emergency, engine failure total shut down in twenty Sezura.”
Nyeshta pulled open the locker and rummaged through the parts but could not find the part she needed. Straightening up, she once again vented her frustration against a panel whilst uttering a string of obscenities and vowing that if she ever met up with the Teladi trader that sold her the parts she would do untold damage to her.
What made it worse was being out in the pirate trading lanes to avoid unwanted questions, and asking for a tow was at best inadvisable. The second worse option was a space walk and risk being picked up before making it to the nearest station.
She steadied herself as her toes were beginning to throb despite the padding of the boots. Sitting back down in the pilot seat she tried to pull up the sector map and check to see if the rumour about Creed heading through the sectors was true. The HUD flickered briefly, and then there was an energy spike followed by a puff of smoke from the console.
Closing her eyes she took a long slow breath before standing up. She tapped in the command for remote detonation and opened the inner airlock door, thankful at least that it still operated. The inner door sealed behind her and the outer airlock door opened. Taking a moment to peer around the side of the doors she stepped into the void with a short burst from the pack.
At reasonable safe distance and without looking back she gave the self destruct command. Nothing happened. She twisted around whilst allowing herself to continue drifting towards the heart of the sector and reissued the command. Nothing happened, but it was too late to try and return now. Having exited the ship it was a sure indication that it was in trouble and anyone observing would be closing in quickly for the salvage. It was only be a matter of time before someone came along.
Sweety had observed the plight of the ship and that the pilot was now trying to jet to the nearest station, but she was not the only one. A Claw Clan Mandalay was making fast progress to intercept.
“Pilot in trouble,” She announced.
“Okay, set as target and I’ll see if I can help,” Tor commented and broke away from formation.
“Where are you going?” Creed messaged in.
“Pilot in trouble, I’m just going to see if I can assist,” Tor replied quickly.
Creed gave the idea some consideration, and knew Tor was the sort to try and help even if he told him not to, “Okay, I’ll send a couple of Piranhas to act as backup in case you get yourself into trouble. Catch us up when you’re done.”
Tor noticed two ships peel away from the group and catch him up, he looked them up and called the Piranha on his left wing, “Brahd this is Tor, I’ve targeted the pilot can you see if you can intercept and pick up before the Mandalay gets there?”
“I can try Sir, but the Mandalay looks to have a good speed advantage,” The Piranha shot past.
Tor looked at the stats of both ships and knew the Piranha would be late. He just had to hope the Mandalay pilot would notice the Piranha and back out. As he watched it became painfully apparent the Mandalay had no intention of backing down.
“Hail the Mandalay Sweety,” Tor asked.
“I’m not getting a response,” Sweety replied.
The ship swooped in behind the pilot slowed and then turned back toward the gate of New Income.
“Shit,” Tor swore loudly, “Any idea where it’ll be going?”
“Back to base seems the logical answer,” Sweety replied.
“Thanks for that, I was hoping for something a little more substantial,” Tor commented.
“My logs do not hold records of the sectors ahead. I can only suggest you try and follow it,” Sweety replied with a hint of sarcasm.
Tor turned the Elite and set the heading to the shortest vector for the gate, “Sweety open a channel to the two escorts.”
“You are not seriously going to try a rescue are you?” Sweety asked.
“Nope but I might buy a slave and set them free, cause that’s the sort of charitable person I am,” Tor replied.
“Channel open,” Sweety announced.
“This is Tor. I want you to get a tractor beam on the abandoned ship and tow it to the Shipyard in, wherever it is the others are going,” Tor ordered. The two men looked slightly perplexed but as Tor was officially the boss they simply acknowledged the request.
After the channel was closed Sweety asked, “Okay so what is your plan?”
“I thought I’d just wing it, you know improvise,” Tor commented.
“I seem to remember Creed saying something about reactionary pilots and luck running out,” Sweety commented pointedly. Ahead of them the convoy of fighters made the jump into the next sector.
“Well any suggestions would be welcome?” Tor asked.
“It would help if you looked like a slave trader,” Sweety observed, “Perhaps a few facial scars, and a couple of missing fingers.”
“Not quite what I had in mind,” Tor responded curtly.
“Deep hooded coat and something to cover your face in that case,” Sweety had scanned through the archives on known Pirate slavers, “Gloves are in fashion for slavers as well. I guess it is to stop them getting blood on their hands.”
“Look I’m trying to do the decent thing here. I’d appreciate a little bit less of the sarcasm,” Tor pleaded.
“I will mask the ships ID when we make the jump, but do not be surprised if you get a call from Creed after we make it into New Income,” Sweety replied.
“Honest opinion. Do you think this will work?” Tor asked.
“I give you about a twenty five percent chance of success. But there are too many other variables. If you remain calm, keep a clear head and look as if you belong there then in terms of bare faced audacity you might just make it work. But Tor you tend to worry too much and that could so easily be your undoing,” Sweety replied, “Anyway why the sudden interest in this pilot? Lots of pilots get captured and hauled away to be sold as slaves by pirates, but I do not see you rushing in to rescue them. Also you have her ship.”
“Now that’s a sensible question,” Tor smiled, “Yes I have her ship. It’s one that technically only the Argon government has ever produced. So where did this one come from?”
“So you plan to rescue this pilot just to find out. And what makes you think she will tell you?” Sweety asked gently.
“Oh I don’t know, perhaps out of gratitude,” Tor relaxed, but he still could not see how he was going to get away with the rescue attempt.
The two Piranha had the mercenary ship between them and were moving at a fast pace. Without engine power the mercenary ship was free floating and only required minor coaxing with the weak tractor beams of the M-four class ships. The beams were primarily being used to steer the ship rather then pull it along.
“Pirate Mandalay is now making the jump,” Sweety announced.
“ETA to the gate?” Tor asked.
“At current speed, eighty five Sezura,” Sweety replied.
The gate approached rapidly. A quick look at the scanner and he noted the Piranha were only three k behind and closing whilst running just ahead of the pilot less mercenary ship.
“Ship ID masked. Jumping to sector New Income,” Sweety announced.
Tor hit the boost as they exited the gate, “Okay Sweety where the hell did that pirate get to?”
“Targeting.”
The HUD indicator flashed up that the Mandalay was six k’s and increasing. Tor brought the ship around and began the pursuit towards a cluster of asteroids. Somehow it all seemed so familiar, but this time he would arrive second and Creed was not with him to tear apart the docking bay with the minigun. His nerves were beginning to show as his heartbeat began to increase.
“It is not too late to back down,” Sweety commented as she monitored Tors’ biological readings.
Tor spoke softly and quietly, “No, I need to do this.”
“Is this to prove you can do anything Creed can do?” Sweety asked.
“Perhaps. I need to prove to myself that, when it really matters, I can,” Tor replied quietly.
“And the rescue of Tris, did that not prove you were capable?” Sweety asked.
“No Creed did what was required, I just watched,” Tor answered slowly, but it was stirring some deep seated feelings and memories. Somewhere inside he knew if he did not at least try then the likes of Feran Bloodheart would have beaten him. The previous rescue had cost him the lives of his parents in retaliation, but he had made the choice to be defiant and not run and hide.
“I have located the Pirate station and the Mandalay is on final approach,” Sweety announced.
“Any station defenses?” Tor asked quickly.
“I have eight lasertowers on scanners,” Sweety replied.
“Okay bring us in carefully. I need to get ready. If there’s any sign of trouble take evasive and get some distance,” Tor replied and as he made his way into the main cabin he asked, “Oh and did Creed try and call me?”
“Not yet,” Sweety answered.
Tor began to rummage through the packed clothing. It was all new, and much of it still in the vacuum sealed wrappers. Although he had not planned for this type of activity he had taken the precaution of getting some of the Split deep hooded robes on the off chance that he needed to stop in the Split sectors.
Tearing open one of the bags he pulled it on. Opening other lockers he retrieved his new blaster, unlike his first blaster, which he also put on, this was one of the larger side arms. More for show than speed as he found out on the practice range. The smaller weapon he could draw and fire before he managed to get the larger side arm clear of its retainer. However the larger weapon had greater impact and a faster re-charge rate. He also slipped into the belt two new blades, not the one Creed gave him as that was still locked in the display cabinet in his office, but two new double edged daggers. Somehow he felt reassured by their presence. The pocket stun stick was placed inside the left hand robe pocket.
Tearing open the packaging of a new shirt, he sliced off a wide strip of material and wrapped it over his mouth and nose before tying the ends together. Finally he pulled the hood of the robe over his head and made his way back to the cockpit.
“Progress?” He asked.
“Just received docking clearance,” Sweety responded.
The lasertowers had resumed their forward facing position and the landing lights flashed green. The slowly rotating pirate base outer docking bay doors separated.
Silently the Elite glided into the station, Tor now too nervous to talk just in case the pirates would be able to hear. There was a clunk as the ship came to the docking platform and the clamps engaged.
“Good luck Tor,” Sweety commented.
He took a deep breath, “You know the security, no ones to come on board until I get back. Open the inner airlock door, and thanks.” He picked up a remote com earpiece and mic. Putting the earpiece on he asked, “Are you getting this?”
“Loud and clear,” Sweety replied.
The door slid open and Tor stepped into the airlock, the inner door closed behind him and the outer door hissed open. The first two things that hit Tor were the noise and smell. He had almost forgotten how sweet the air was from his previous ventures into these places. The usual mix of bars and rest centers were stooped in a haze of smoke from the usually less than efficient air circulation system. He reminded himself this was Teladi space and weed was still very much a legal substance although many of the other trading goods were not.
Tor moved uneasily under his robe, the hood obscuring much of his sight he pushed it back slightly to try and establish his bearings. A highly flamboyantly dressed Teladi trader swooped in, “Good bussinesss to you. Firsst visit to our sstation?”
Tor hesitated, thankful that the hood and mask shielded his huge look of doubt and uncertainty. To all effect it appeared like a considered pause, “Slave pens!” He ordered.
The Teladis’ eyes narrowed a fraction in her reptilian face, but the smile grew wider, “Just follow the ssmell, I have a fine sselection to choosse from. Iss the sslave for pleassure, ssport or labour?”
“There is one in particular that I am looking for. She would only just have been brought in,” Tor commented softly.
The Teladi replied cautiously, “Recently you say, I will have to check. But what interest is this person to you?”
Tor had to think quickly, the wrong answer and he felt certain he would be sold any of the slaves. He replied slowly and carefully, “She has information that is useful to me.”
“Nice one Tor. That will raise the price,” Sweety whispered in his ear.
Tor refrained from making a comment.
“And how much iss Ssir willing to pay?” The Teladi asked.
Sweety once again whispered into his ear, “Slaves generally get bought for fourteen hundred credits as an average price but can sell for as much as twelve thousand.”
“Let me see her to confirm that she is,” Tor paused for effect, “Undamaged.”
They reached the slave pens, most of the slaves looked in a sorry state. Here were a mixture of races and sexes, all wearing restraint collars and laser coded.
“There iss your female,” The Teladi pointed to a young Argon female huddled in the corner her face a mask of fear. The Teladi pulled a response pad from some unseen pocket and pressed a few buttons. There was a small yelp from the girl and she slowly and painfully moved towards the cell bars.
Tor felt pity and anger and he felt his eyes begin to redden, “Tor this is not the same female, her bioscan does not match,” Sweety commented.
Tors’ hands clenched into tight fists, he could feel his nails digging into his palms. “This is not the girl.” He spun around and looked hard at the Teladi.
The Teladi took a step back and gave a slight nod, but there was no trace of fear in her face, more of a relaxed attitude. Turning she pointed to another cage closer to the back wall of the station. “There is your woman. But we have not had time to fully process her.”
“She has the restraint collar on?” Tor asked.
“Yes but she is not yet coded.”
Tor wandered up close to the cage and peered in. The woman inside looked defiantly back and had the unmistakable look of hatred. Sweety acknowledged he was now looking at the right person.
“I think sshe will need to be dissciplined but sshould bring many hourss of pleasure,” The Teladi commented.
“How much?” Tor asked.
“Twenty thoussand creditss,” She replied.
Tor looked into the cell, “She has a few years about her. Three thousand is a fairer price.”
The Teladi laughed, “You are barely ten percent of what I assk, and ass you ssaid sshe hass information you want. Eighteen thoussand creditss.”
“I have a feeling this could take some time,” Sweety commented.
Tor maintained his discipline not to just accept and get out as this could lead to him gaining some sudden and unwelcome interest, “Eight thousand is my offer.”
The Teladi shook her head and looked hard into the hood, “Perhaps we should discuss over a drink?”
Alarm bells rang in his mind. He spoke slowly, “A generous thought, but I will not cloud my mind with alcohol. You of course may drink.”
She smiled, “You have dealt with the Teladi before,” It was a statement rather than a question
“Many times,” Tor replied.
“In that case I will sell her to you for fifteen thousand credits.”
“Accept the offer,” Sweety instructed.
Tor took another look into the cage, “As she is un-coded then we have a deal,” Tor held out his fist. The Teladi slave trader bumped knuckles.
“Will you take her away now or sshall I have her delivered?”
“Get me two escorts and bring her along,” Tor commented and then stepped away from the cages.
The slave trader barked out instructions, two guards appeared carrying pulse rifles and stun sticks. The cage door lifted and Tor heard a scuffle, a brief cry and then the guards hauled a partially stunned Nyeshta from the cell.
The trader presented the fund transfer pad and Tor took it. Sweety masked the transaction through the accounting system and although the funds were transferred correctly the slave traders would not be able to trace the source of the credits.
“Good profitss to you,” The trader commented on receiving the pad.
She turned away and with a nod of her head indicated for the guards to follow him. He measured his pace carefully so as not to appear to be rushing, Nyeshta was still in a stunned state and was being dragged along behind by the guards.
As he approached his ship two Split pirates stopped him. One moved past and grabbed a handful of Nyeshtas hair and pulled her head back, then laughed.
“Boy I will give you two hundred credits if you will allow me one hour with this slave of yours?” He growled.
Tor had not been prepared for this, “No!”
“Pity,” He turned and with a cruel smile said to Nyeshta, “Always thought you’d become a slave. A shame I did not find you first,” He let her head flop forwards and gave her a vicious back hand slap before walking away with his companion laughing.
Tor was almost shaking with anger and was also aware that his hand was gripped hard on the handle of his blaster. Carefully he released his grip and then moved on.
The Elite did not seem to appear soon enough and he was grateful to get inside. The guards restrained Nyeshta to the cabin chair, although they would have been happier to put her in the hold. Handing Tor a response pad they left. With the outer and inner airlock doors sealed Tor requested departure clearance.
The Teladi slaver watched out of curiosity as the new Elite departed.
They cleared the station and put distance between them. The rest of his ships were already in Ianamus Zura. Tor stepped into the rear cabin and looked at Nyeshta. Her head was slumped forward there was a dampness in her long brown hair.
“Careful Tor she is awake and just pretending to be asleep.” Sweety commented.
Tor sighed, Nyeshta lifted her head and Tor could see the cut and darkening bruise to the side of her left temple. Blood trickled down. There was a look of pure venom in her eyes, and Tor felt that she would kill him at the first opportunity.
“Smartarse computer,” Nyeshta commented nastily, “Anyway don’t expect me to be nice.”
Something in the back of Tors’ mind told him that he had heard the voice somewhere before. He took off the robe and cloth wrap.
“I didn’t buy you to be my slave,” Tor replied, now a little uncertain how this conversation should go.
“Oh that’s nice. Well perhaps you’ll take off these restraints,” Nyeshta replied soothingly, but her expression was less than convinced.
“Providing you believe me and promise not to try and kill me to steal my ship,” Tor responded.
“What kill my saviour? That would be ungrateful,” Nyeshta still used the soft alluring tone.
“Trust me I’m heading for the shipyard in Ianamus Zura. I will drop you off there and you can get a ship to wherever,” Tor commented casually.
He held the response pad and flicked through the commands list, “As a token of my good intent,” The neck master control restraint clicked and fell off. However the leg and arm restraints kept her in the chair.
“One question for you, why?” She asked with a slight softening in her expression that Tor might just be telling the truth.
Tor looked at her and wondered how to begin, “I saw the ship you were flying and what happened when it broke down. I don’t like pirates and no one deserves to be a slave.”
Nyeshta simply studied him then commented, “So you thought you’d come and rescue me. Very noble.”
“And to ask you where you got that ship from, I can only assume it’s on special commission but from which shipyard?” Tor asked.
She smiled but flinched, “Let me get the med kit,” Tor added and opened a locker. Pulling out the kit he retrieved some pain killers, steri-wipes and fast-skin spray. Still not quite able to trust her he wiped the blood from around the cut and sprayed it with the fast-skin which closed up the cut.
“What happened to my ship?” Nyeshta asked whilst Tor worked.
He applied the pain killer strip over the bruised area, “It’s been towed to the shipyard,” Tor commented.
“And do I get it back?” She asked.
“If you can tell me where I can get another one,” He sat back and looked at her.
She gave a quick smile, “And if I told you I designed, and built it myself?”
“I would say you’re extremely talented and if you would be interested in a working for me,” Tor replied carefully.
“And you are?” She asked.
“Tor, Tor Grall,” He expected recognition because of the Argon news. What he saw was a mixture of worry and somewhere behind the bright green eyes a hint of fear.
“I see,” She responded.
“And you are?” He asked.
“Nyeshta,” She replied and looked to see if Tor reacted.
He simply smiled and commented, “Pleased to meet you.”
“We have just made the jump to Ianamus Zura.” Sweety announced, and then added. “It looks like we have some escort ships. Two Prometheus and a Perseus.”
Tor released the restraints on Nyeshta and stepped back. She looked perplexed but said nothing.
He had expected some message to come from Creed, this concerned him as the silence could mean that Creed was too annoyed to talk to him directly. The Elite glided into the shipyard, the Piranha was being fixed but no one appeared to be working on the mercenary ship.
There was the familiar clump of docking clamps engaging. Tor went to the airlock doors and said, “Well we’ve arrived.”
Nyeshta gave the hint of a smile but hung back.
“Open the airlock doors Sweety,” Tor requested. The inner door slide open and the outer door hissed.
Creed was waiting and his expression said more than words, “Step aside Tor!” Tor looked down to see the gun pointing at his chest. Creeds eyes were fixed on the woman a deep flame of hatred burning within.
