Pirate Chaser - Prologue

Pirate Chaser: a tale of the E'tho'laknelai

Prologue



Sta'sa looked up as the door slid silently closed behind the last of The Captain's visitors, then leaned farther to the side as the small Ky perched on the table beside her head took a playful snap at her ear. Baiting it absently with the fingers of one hand, she watched as The Captain sighed and raked long-fingered hands back through her hair.

“Drink,” The Captain muttered, starting towards the mini-bar with long strides before calling in a slightly louder tone, “You want one?”

“No thanks,” Sta'sa said softly, still watching The Captain as the Ky snapped at her fingers, its leaves fluffing in nearly uncontainable excitement. The Captain was a tall woman, more striking in that lanky way some humans had than conventionally beautiful, with dark brown skin, high cheekbones, and long brown hair that fell to the back of her thighs in a sleek wave. Universally known as one of the most cunning Chaser captains of the fleet, she was one of the rare cybernetic Trance that had been bred by the Macika during the War—genetically engineered cybernetic humans who had been supposed to win the War for the Macika and their slave-built empire. That plan had failed, but the abilities left to The Captain by her heritage had made her a nearly unstoppable foe in the years since she'd escaped the Macika.

That didn't mean the strain of the last few months didn't show, Sta'sa thought as she watched The Captain pull a bottle from the racks behind the bar and then free a crystal glass. In some ways, it was almost ironic that it'd been the fall of the Macika empire that had ultimately deprived them of their home, when most of those that swore by the Outlaw's Code were past victims of the great slave-hunting empire.

“It's not like the drink can hurt you,” The Captain said, slanting a look at Sta'sa out of one eye as she poured her drink. Like all Trance, The Captain didn't have whites in her eyes, only dull black with the faintest hint of something gleaming in their depths.

Sta'sa didn't bother to reply, and with a shrug, The Captain drained her glass, then poured herself another. “So what do you think of our new home?” she asked, her mellow alto even dryer now than it had been when talking of their new base-planet with her visitors.

Sta'sa glanced at where the hologram of the newly named Middle Refuge still revolved above the table, then shooed the still-snapping Ky onto her shoulder and got to her feet. “I'm surprised they didn't name it Place of Clouds,” she said, her voice still as soft as it always was. “Or Old Poison.” The place certainly didn't look like much, only like another small, gaseous planet too toxic to support life. The whole fleet would have probably gone right on past, never knowing that it was actually an Ancient space-station, if it hadn't snared the first scout with its tractor-beams.

“There was quite a bit of debate,” The Captain said, her voice husky with amusement as a little smile curled her lips. Then she angled another sideways look towards Sta'sa. “Why must you persist in sitting on the floor?”

Sta'sa's own lips curled in a tiny, flicker of a smile, hardly there before it was gone. “It's not like the floor can hurt me.”

The Captain snorted in unwilling amusement, then angled another look towards her. This time, she didn't speak, but Sta'sa could tell what The Captain was thinking anyway.

She angled The Captain a look of her own from her single visible eye, the gleams in it's solid black depths more like sparks of bright lightning, and The Captain smiled unrepentantly. “That headpiece looks good on you, little sister,” she said in clear amusement.

Sta'sa didn't answer, only looked away, and after a moment, The Captain sighed. “The teams sent in to scout the station have found its hydroponics dome.”

Sta'sa still didn't reply, the fingers of her right hand playing absently with the ruffled Ky on her shoulder, and the silence grew for a moment. Seemingly only amused by her much younger subordinate's refusal to reply, The Captain continued, “The Elders want you to run it.”

This time, Sta'sa looked back at her, her visible eye narrowed slightly. “That was why they were here?” she asked, the quickening under her soft tone only noticeable by those that knew her well. There weren't many who did. At one time, there had been three, maybe four. Now, there was only The Captain and one other.

The Captain's lips had curled again in a smile at Sta'sa's question. “Among other things,” she agreed easily.

Silence followed, broken only by the faint clinking of the ice in The Captain's glass as Sta'sa considered this. Not so surprising for someone made by the genetic manipulation of the Macika empire who also had the ability to link with electronics on a subconscious level, she'd become quite skilled at manipulating the genetic codes of plants and tailoring them to life aboard ship. The Ky now sitting on her shoulder was one of her creations, made from the simplified gene code of a rare type of hanging fern spliced with a more rugged variety and a simple AI processor core. She was easily the most skilled of all the hydroponic techs in the fleet, and the only one that worked with genetic codes at such a level. That would definitely be a skill that the Downers would want on the new station.

“You'd have a bigger laboratory,” The Captain said, as if reading her thoughts. “And access to more types of plants, as well as all the resources of Refuge itself.”

Sta'sa glanced at her, trying to read her thoughts through that polite, interested facade The Captain used so effectively in negotiations and was now wearing. Then she turned her head to blow a long stream of air towards the Ky on her shoulder. It fluffed itself, its roots digging into the fabric of her uniform T, and went a gentle mint-green with happiness.

Sta'sa was smiling slightly when she looked back at The Captain. “I'll stay with the E'tho, thank you,” she told her softly.

A smug and very satisfied expression replaced The Captain's polite facade. “That's what I told them,” she said in purring amusement. “Without the thank you.”

Sta'sa glanced at her. “How very ruthless of you,” she said softly, her amusement at the thought barely discernible. As the last Trance the Macika had bred, Sta'sa had trouble with many human emotions, and she didn't usually show much of anything.

The Captain knew that, and by her chuckle, she was appreciating Sta'sa's deviation from the normal. She smiled, then gave a little off-handed shrug and laughed. “Well, I was a Pirate before.”

Sta'sa wasn't sure what about the comment seemed so funny to her captain. Most Chasers started off as Pirates—it was easier for a new crew and captain to prey on fat merchants than on experienced Pirate captains. Even then, it was the rare ship who'd been able to live entirely off pirate bounties. That had been at the root of the Wild-kin empire's dislike of the Pirate and Chaser community, after all—the fact that it was so hard to tell the Chasers from the Pirates they hunted, because most Chasers were Pirates simply hunting under a different flag.

“The E'tho will have to flip for a while,” The Captain said, abruptly all business. Sta'sa glanced at her to find her frowning at the liquid in her glass. “There won't be any Chasers for a while, not until we find out if the natives in this galaxy have a bounty system already in place. That won't be for at least a fortnight or two, and probably longer—and that's if they do have bounties we can collect, and if they're large enough to keep a Chaser going. You can't be a bounty-hunter if there's no bounties. Stars know the Downer's can't afford a ransom, even for the best code keeping Pirates they have. They'll have a hard enough time just getting the new Refuge up and functioning.”

Sta'sa nodded. “It would have been better if we'd been able to keep to known space on that count,” she said. As it was, they didn't even have star-charts for the galaxy they were in.

The Captain made a face. “Don't you start on it, Sta'sa,” she ordered, pointing an admonishing finger at her with the hand that held her still-mostly-full glass. “The navigation techs and Medical are already giving all of us captains a full ear on that subject, and have been for months.”

Cocking her head slightly, Sta'sa eyed her for a moment before asking, “Don't they all realize that it was this or running from the Wild-kin empire for the rest of our lives? The Wild-kin would not stop hunting us—Pirate, Chaser, and Downer alike—just because we had moved to the shattered edges of the worlds.”

The Captain gave her a dry look. “They know,” she said in a tone to match. “They just didn't realize it would be such a long trip, or such a hard one. We have half the ships we started with, and all of them—even my E'tho!—are running on heart alone. No one thought that we would have to run so far to be free. It's been almost a year since we left Ky'ithi'gyn, and we have only barely stopped to rest and repair since then. What did you expect them to feel? The Downers lost their home-world because they supported us and the Code, and we, the Pirates and Chasers, might not have lived on Ky'ithi'gyn, but it was still ours!”

By the time she finished, The Captain was scowling and angry, having come to her feet to pace aggressively back and forth by the bar. Sta'sa watched her silently for a long moment as she forcefully calmed herself down, then let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh. “Personal relations are your forte, not mine, Captain,” she reminded softly.

The Captain turned a slightly irritated look at her, then made a low sound. “As always, you draw the lines so clearly, Sta'sa,” she said in a tone that made it uncertain whether it was meant as complement or reproof.

Sta'sa simply watched her levelly, the Ky on her shoulder having tucked itself up underneath her jawbone and settled itself in for a long stay. Finally, The Captain made a low sound of unwilling amusement, her lips curling into a slightly crooked smile. “Bah,” she said, sounding more amused than not.

Sta'sa tilted her head slightly. “The Elder wants you to make an initial foray to see if we can't find some supplies, doesn't he,” she said, several things she'd been musing over in the back of her mind coming together.

It wasn't a question, yet The Captain arched an eyebrow at her, then snorted, “Yes. That was part of the reason the envoy from the Downers was here.”

Sta'sa made a soft noise of consideration, then asked, “How long will we be on station before heading out?”

The Captain arched an eyebrow at her, then laughed softly, “Thinking of raiding the hydroponic-dome, Sta'sa?”

Sta'sa's gaze flicked to her for the briefest of moments, then away. She knew all the other hydroponics techs among both the fleet and the Downers, and had even enjoyed the company of some of them to her surprise. No few among them would gladly give her anything she asked for in exchange for a chance at some of her plants, or her assistance on a problem or two. The thought of the hydroponic-dome might not have been enough to tempt her away from the E'tho and the only other Trance still living, but that didn't mean that she didn't want to see the plants that were in it.

The Captain chuckled. “We'll be down for at least five-span, probably seven,” she told Sta'sa, then sipped her drink and shrugged. “Enough for you to raid, and probably even convince the entire dome to mutiny and elect you the new elder.” Her sly sideways look met with only Sta'sa's blank face, and she sighed. “We'll be down as long as it takes to take on supplies, rotate out the injured and dirt-weary, and make our own repairs while our new sister-ships patch enough together to make a pass or two around the system.”

“Sister-ships?” Sta'sa asked. “Did the Elder assign them, or did you bargain?”

“The Elder,” The Captain said, sounding slightly grumpy. She'd never liked working pairs or trios, not since before Sta'sa had found her. “The Dusk Rose, and the Kii Tussattiia. The Elder at least did not try and put another in command over me, however. I command, and there will be no contesting it.”

Sta'sa considered this silently as The Captain sipped at her drink. Both the Dusk Rose and the Kii Tussattiia were familiar names, and not in a bad way either. The Dusk Rose was a Pirate ship, captained by a human by the name of Bail Joseph. They'd never run up against the E'tho. What she'd heard in talk was that his crew were loyal, he'd never broken the Code, and you didn't want to be on the other side from him in a fight. Not a bad ship to partner with when facing unknown dangers, she supposed.

The Kii Tussattiia was more familiar, and was probably one of those The Captain would have picked if she'd been able to. Called the Wind Song in the common tongue, the Kii Tussattiia was one of the ships that switched flags according to the situation. Its captain, a Keran half-blood by the name of kiLau, was an old acquaintance of The Captain's, and Sta'sa knew both its hydroponics techs fairly well. Its crew would fall into place beside theirs easily enough, and she supposed she wouldn't mind having other hydro-techs about.

“They both have solid names,” she said softly. “The Dusk Rose doesn't have a hydroponics, though.”

The Captain gave her that amused little smile again, only this time, she looked predatory. “And the Kii Tussattiia isn't enough of a ship to have much of one,” she purred over the top of her glass, her eyes gleaming. “So make ready—I intend for them to part our company deeply in our debt.”

That was enough to make Sta'sa smile in what, for her, was as close to actual laughter as she ever came. The Captain's meaning was clear, at least to her. Any crew, no matter what their breeding, got tired of canned rations and processed mineral tabs. The E'tho stood to make a great deal of money, and if The Captain graciously deigned to defer payment till the other captains had their ships repaired and had more money at hand? She would win both a future payment, and allies. All that she needed was some fresh produce, and fruit that wasn't in the form of a pill.

“As you command, my captain,” Sta'sa said in amusement. Then she took her leave, already making plans.