《The Pharaon (A SPACE OPERA STORY)》


 Coth XRH

    Spaceship engineer Davi Edmara blinked as the distant solar system came into view.


    For all the stories Davi had heard about the Coth XRH system, she had expected cloudy stars and grey, lifeless, pockmarked planets. She certainly hadn¡¯t expected a small yet stunning sun, its aqua rays of light dancing through belts of multicolored stardust. Twenty-one planets spun large orbits around their centerpiece ¡ª some of them little more than swirling clouds of dust and gas, some of them gleaming an icy blue or a strange mix-match of purple and red. They seemed to float, frozen in their orbits, small specks of light against inky black space.


    It almost took Davi¡¯s breath away.


    Even now, after spending nearly three straight Earth-years of her short seventeen-year life in space, it still took her breath away.


    She let herself marvel for a moment, for just a second forgetting everything ¡ª forgetting that she and her companion were crammed into a one-person lifepod, forgetting that they were barreling through space towards one of the most dangerous known systems, forgetting the passenger slumped over in her back seat¡­


    Captain Clare shifted and groaned. Davi tore herself back to the present moment. She stared at the rapidly-approaching figures.


    Of the twenty-one planets in Coth XRH, only eight were close enough to their small sun to support any organic life forms. Of those eight, only five were inhabited by advanced sentient beings.


    Advanced sentient beings who would love to shoot down Davi¡¯s little lifepod and harvest it for parts. Or capture her for their ever-dwindling armies in their ever-growing wars.


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    There was a reason no one aboard Davi¡¯s ship had wanted to go within a lightyear of the system. She didn¡¯t want to be here either.


    Behind her, Captain Leonard Clare moaned softly. Davi risked a quick glance over her shoulder.


    In the few hours since they¡¯d left the ship, his skin had taken on a dewy, purplish tint. A soft sheen of sweat glistened over his brown and his peppered hair hung limp over his mouth, which was screwed up in pain.


    Davi turned back to the small window. They were almost within range of the riptide ¡ª a shimmering stretch of dust and asteroids that traveled at high speeds, and could tear a ship to shreds if its pilot were inexperienced or distracted.


    With trembling hands, Davi input her coordinates and readied herself to maneuver through the rubble. She didn¡¯t want to be here. She glanced back at her captain ¡ª at the man who had, once upon a time, taken a chance on a thirteen-year-old scrapyard intern with fast fingers and a desperation to prove herself ¡ª and steeled her nerves. She had to do this.


    Their ship wasn¡¯t equipped with the most up-to-date medical diagnostics. He needed medical help ¡ª real, on-planet medical help.


    Unfortunately, Coth XRH was the closest system with advanced society. Warring, dangerous, criminal-ridden society on four of them ¡ª but Davi wasn¡¯t aiming for those four.


    She narrowed her gaze on the smallest planet and the one closest to the startling aqua sun. Red and covered in swirling clouds.


    Elba ii.


    Davi Edmara took a deep breath, gripped the controls, and swept into the tide.

 Port Havre

    The 24th of the Terran month of February, in the year 3815 CE, dawned early, as mornings always did on Port Havre.  This morning, however, an energy filled the air.  From merchant to guard to barkeep, it seemed to follow every occupant of the small space station as they went about their day.


    The Pharaon is returning!


    One occupant, in particular, felt the electricity of the words far more keenly than the rest as she went about her morning routine.  Payton Ladr¨®n practically vibrated with pent-up energy ¡ª she felt like a boiling pot of worry, excitement, and anticipation, all filled to the brim and threatening to fizz over the sides.  It took her three tries to run the correct key through the scanning system before she could open the door to her father¡¯s bar.


    She leaned her head back against the door once she stepped inside.  The cool metal chilled her skin and she let it, taking three deep breaths.  ¡°Everything¡¯s fine,¡± she murmured to herself.  ¡°For stars¡¯ sake, you¡¯d have heard if something went wrong.¡±


    Except¡­would she?


    Scolding herself for the maudlin thoughts ¡ª she was seventeen, after all, and far too young for such weariness ¡ª she started the process of beginning her day.


    One by one, chairs were pulled up from the floor.  The crappy old synthetic generator hummed to life (Payton still wasn¡¯t sure why her father had bought the damned thing.  Sure, it was supposed to replace their need for a kitchen, but instead it could only generate strange blue fries that tasted like pickled Earth-fish).  The bar was wiped clean, reorganized, then wiped clean again.


    Just as she had turned to the various vintage liquor dispensers propped behind her on the wall, the door swung open.  ¡°Welcome to Mercey¡¯s,¡± Payton sang.  She spun on her heel.  ¡°How can I-Mr. Moore,¡± she yelped.


    Mr. Henry Moore was a name everyone at the station knew well.  A well-to-do merchant who¡¯d made his fortune supplying both the Terran army and the Tzannic Army with food and other goods during the Bonnic Wars.  He was well-liked by many at the station and even more so by those who worked under him on one of his many ships.


    Like The Pharaon.


    And he was here.  In her bar.  Until today, Payton would have bet her nicest boots he didn¡¯t even know her bar existed.


    Mr. Moore acknowledged her squawk of surprise with a concealed smile.  He removed his hat ¡ª a strange round and wide-rimmed thing that looked more like it belonged in a museum than on a living person ¡ª revealing a neat mop of brown hair, and cleared his throat.  ¡°Miss Ladr¨®n,¡± he said jovially.  ¡°How are you?¡±


    Payton stammered something she hoped (but highly doubted) was intelligible.  After a beat, she added, ¡°Is everything alright, sir?  With The Pharaon?¡±  She couldn¡¯t think of any other reason for Mr. Henry Moore to step foot in her bar.  Her heart thundered in her ears.


    His smile flickered.  ¡°As far as I know, Miss Ladr¨®n, all is well with The Pharaon.¡±


    He didn¡¯t say what they were both thinking: that the ship should have arrived nearly a month ago, and ships were rarely late unless something had happened.  Nearly everyone on Port Havre had started to dread the worst, until on the 21st a quick communication had come into the docking office, requesting landing bay space in three days¡¯ time.


    Payton had nearly wept in relief.


    Mr. Henry Moore cleared his throat.  ¡°I am on my way to the other families of the crew to inform them that the ship is scheduled to arrive at 11:15 Earth Standard.¡±


    But I¡¯m not family, Payton wanted to protest.


    ¡°You are welcome to join us on the bay.¡±


    Payton swallowed.  ¡°I would love to,¡± she said slowly, ¡°but I¡¯m here at the bar until 7.¡±  That was when their only other paid employee, Harrison Geoff, took over for her.


    Mr. Moore dipped his chin.  ¡°A shame.  I can think of one young ship engineer who would have loved to see you.¡±


    Blood rushed to Payton¡¯s olive cheeks, tinging them pink.  She ducked her head.


    Mr. Moore allowed himself a small smile.  ¡°Stars be well, Miss Ladr¨®n.¡±


    ¡°Have a good morning,¡± Payton returned, still hiding her face behind the glass she cleaned meticulously.  And then he was gone.


    Payton sighed and put down the glass.  For the first time in nearly a month, her hands didn¡¯t shake.


    ***


    Port Havre.


    The small space station floated into view, just beyond Davi¡¯s little control desk.  The sight of it was like a glass of on-planet water ¡ª refreshing and welcome.  They were still nearly an hour from dock, and the station was little more than the size of a 2-Jade coin, but Davi could easily make out the familiar sights.


    A little red light on her board clicked on, and Davi¡¯s hands shifted over the controls.  She buzzed the ship-wide intercom.  ¡°Ten minutes to orbit.  Please find secure seating and prepare for turbulence.¡±


    Her voice echoed, strange and tinny, across the bridge speakers.


    Only five other figures occupied the large circular space.  Four of them sat at small communication desks nestled along the outer rim of the wall.  In the center of the room, on a raised platform, were two consoles.  Davi sat at one.  The other chair was unoccupied, though a lanky, brooding figure stood just behind it.


    As Davi maneuvered The Pharaon into orbit, she risked a glance at her companion.


    Brooks Dorlac, the first mate of the ship, was a gangly man in his early thirties.  He had a hooked nose, a perpetually curled upper lip, and stringy dirty blond hair.  His eyes, almost black in the low artificial light of the bridge, glared ahead and his fingers clenched over the back of the crimson Captain¡¯s chair.


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    Dorlac didn¡¯t like Davi.  Which worked out, as it was, because Davi didn¡¯t much like Dorlac either.


    Still, she sighed inwardly.  He was her first mate.  And she was the ship¡¯s engineer.  And no matter how often she wished she could bludgeon him upside the head with her hex wrench¡­it was her job to make sure everyone made it to the station unharmed.


    She cleared her throat as she reached for the depression lever.  ¡°Six minutes to orbit,¡± she said, softer this time and not over the intercom.


    The heat of Dorlac¡¯s glare burned through her left temple, but he just growled something and settled into the Captain¡¯s chair.


    Something ugly twisted in Davi¡¯s stomach.


    She turned back to the controls and maneuvered them into the station¡¯s gravitational field.


    Almost home.


    ***


    It took the better part of the hour to bring The Pharaon into the landing bay, and Davi spent the next hour powering down all the ship¡¯s systems.  The Pharaon might have belonged to Mr. Henry Moore and been captained by Leonard Claire, but it was her baby.


    She¡¯d spent most of her younger years aboard the ship ¡ª first as a child in her father¡¯s garage, parked atop his drinks case, watching his crew build the ship from the inside out.  Then as a teenager loading and unloading cargo for Mr. Moore.  The day she¡¯d turned 14, she¡¯d put in to apprentice under his former engineer, learning every nook and cranny The Pharaon had to offer.


    And so, she lingered as long as she could aboard the ship ¡ª checking, double checking the systems, before gathering her bags and stepping out into the light of the station.


    Only two figures loitered at the base of the ramp, the rest of the crowd long-since returned to their homes and families.  Mr. Moore looked up as Davi came down the ramp, her steps light.


    His eyes crinkled in the corners as he took in the girl ¡ª not yet out of her teenage years, yet no longer the stubborn little firecracker who¡¯d burst into his office to demand an apprenticeship.  Back then, she¡¯d been no taller than his elbow, with a wild mass of hair and big curious eyes.


    Now, she was tall ¡ª taller than him ¡ª with gangly limbs and curly black hair pulled into a messy tail at the back of her head.  She wore a grease-smudged tunic rolled up at the sleeves and stuffed into her heavy leather belt which wrapped around her waist twice.  Her loose gray trousers were tucked into a pair of old black boots that had certainly seen better days.


    She moved with the easy confidence of someone used to working with their body and hands ¡ª after all, most of her work was spent twisting her body to fit under and behind various pieces of machinery ¡ª though her limbs still retained the awkward gangliness of teenhood.


    She tossed the shipowner an easy smile.  ¡°Mr. Moore!¡±


    ¡°Davi,¡± he returned, grasping her offered arm.  ¡°Perhaps you can clear a few things up for me.¡±


    ¡°Sir?¡±  Davi cocked her head.


    Mr. Moore inclined his chin at his companion.  ¡°Dorlac here was just apprising me of your travels ¡ª and the reason for your delay.¡±  His expression turned somber.  ¡°I am sorry to hear about Leonard.  He was a good friend.¡±


    ¡°And a good captain,¡± Davi agreed.  Her stomach clenched, but she shoved down the tears that stung at the back of her eyes.


    ¡°How did he die?¡±


    ¡°Brain fever,¡± Dorlac cut in.  ¡°He was in excruciating pain.  Wouldn¡¯t stop moaning.  Was awful.¡±


    Awful for those of us who had to listen to it, Davi was certain he meant.


    ¡°Stars have mercy,¡± Mr. Moore murmured.  He drew three fingers across his chest.  He allowed a moment of silence to fall over the trio, the only sound the soft hum of The Pharaon¡¯s standby systems slowly shutting down.


    At last, he looked up again, his gaze startlingly clear.  ¡°Dorlac and I were just discussing the nature of the ship¡¯s next captain,¡± he said slowly.


    Davi swallowed.  She shifted her bag onto her other shoulder.  The past few weeks had been busy, and she¡¯d avoided thinking too much about who would take over for Captain Clare.  Dorlac was the next obvious choice, as first mate.


    The problem was¡­no one particularly liked Dorlac.  Not even Davi.  And Davi liked everyone.


    ¡°I understand you stepped into a fair bit of responsibility when the Captain fell ill.¡±


    Davi jolted from her thoughts.  Dread made way for confusion¡­then suspicion.  ¡°¡­me?¡± she asked, her gaze shooting between Dorlac and Mr. Moore.


    ¡°Yes, you,¡± Mr. Moore echoed, his lips twitching.  ¡°Dorlac here tells me you are the one who put in to the nearest port for medical assistance, and then took the Captain there yourself when no one else would.¡±


    Dorlac, who had told the story as a condemnation, jolted as if struck.


    ¡°Well, yes, but-¡±


    ¡°And Jen¡¯ni mentioned you took to reorganizing the chores schedule with the new changes in personnel.¡±


    ¡°I-¡±


    ¡°And I can tell I am keeping you from your day.  My apologies.¡±  Mr. Moore stepped back from the shell-shocked ship engineer with a smile.  ¡°I believe there is a certain young lady awaiting you at a certain bar.¡±


    Davi¡¯s confusion melted into a grin at the thought of Payton Ladr¨®n, who had been her best friend since she could read.  ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°On your way, now.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, sir.¡±  And with that, Davi trotted the rest of the way down the ramp.


    Once she was out of sight, Dorlac rounded on the jovial shipowner.  ¡°You can¡¯t be thinking-¡± he sputtered.


    ¡±I will consider any fit characters for the role,¡± Mr. Moore cut in smoothly.  It was clear from his tone that Dorlac was not, in fact, a ¡®fit character.¡¯


    Dorlac¡¯s face turned an ugly hue of purplish-red.  ¡°You¡¯re demoting me for a child!¡±  His last word pitched up with extra indignation.


    Henry Moore looked down on the first-mate with such polite reprimand that it sent the other man stumbling back a step.  ¡°On the contrary, you will get to remain first mate, simply under a new Captain.¡±


    ¡°A child,¡± he repeated.  His gaze turned toward the entrance to the loading bay, as if his glare could find her amidst the rest of the churning crowd.  ¡°And a liar.¡±


    That drew the older man¡¯s attention.  He swung his gaze on the first mate, his ridiculous hat wobbling.  ¡°What do you mean?  Explain.¡±


    Dorlac scoffed.  ¡°The port she put into for help?  Elba ii.¡±  The other man¡¯s quiet gasp sent a bolt of dark satisfaction through his chest.  He waved a hand.  ¡°And she won¡¯t say anything about what happened there.  But suddenly the Captain¡¯s dead and she¡¯s sneaking around with an unidentified comm drive.¡±


    Henry Moore¡¯s gaze narrowed.  ¡°You¡¯re not suggesting she had communication with Major Bonna.¡±  It was no secret where the famous military leader-turned failed revolutionary had been banished after he¡¯d led ¡ª and lost ¡ª a war to take over the Tzannic Planets.  Elba ii was notoriously difficult to reach, let alone smuggle a hidden message off.


    Besides, Henry Moore knew Davi Edmara almost as well as he knew his own son.  She would never betray him or his crew.  Of that, at least, he was certain.


    Dorlac just shrugged.  ¡°All I¡¯m saying ¡®s to think before you go around throwing out Captainships like candy.¡±  To anyone but me, came the obvious ending to that sentence, practically whispered in Henry Moore¡¯s ear.


    And then the first mate was gone, leaving the shipowner to ponder his thoughts in the empty bay.

 Merceys

    Stepping back onto the paved streets of Port Havre was like a breath of fresh air for Davi ¡ª well, as close to one as she¡¯d ever get, between the filtered air on the deck of the Pharaon and the manufactured oxygen piped through the stations.


    As she made her way down the paved street of the station, she tilted her head up to the sky and let the ¡®sun¡¯ warm her face.


    That was the thing about spending many months in space. Davi loved it ¡ª but she also loved coming home.


    Home to her beloved Port Havre. Home to her father¡¯s garage where she¡¯d spent so many hours watching his crew piece together grand metal contraptions. Home to the shipyard where she and Payton had snuck into the hulls of the sleeping ships after hours so she could get a glimpse at the interior mainframes. And home to Mercey¡¯s, and Payton ¡ª who had long-since become something far dearer to Davi than ¡®home.¡¯


    By the time Davi stopped outside the small bar, she could practically hear the conversation vibrating the walls of the pub. High above, the lights of the station that mimicked the Terran sun reflected brightly off the paved road, as midday loomed ever closer.


    The nondescript metal door had been flung open and propped against the wall with a small gear. The sign above the door, which read Mercey¡¯s scratched into the metal, swung with the slight breeze from the air ducts. What began as a trickle of customers in and out of Mercey¡¯s at the beginning of the day had quickly burgeoned into a rapid stream during lunch break. The chatter of conversation spilled out onto the street and flowed over Davi¡¯s ears.


    The young engineer strode inside.


    She stopped, just inside the doorway, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the low light. Bodies filled every table and chair, chatting and laughing, munching on steaming sandwiches and nursing tall mugs of ale. In the back corner, a few standing figures swayed to the barely-audible music.


    At the far end of the room, a familiar figure propped a hip against one of the tables, her mouth moving but Davi was too far to hear what she was saying. Payton¡¯s hair, which easily fell past her hips, had been pulled into a long braid and piled atop her head. Her green apron fit snug around her hips and her easy grin sent a pang of homesickness through Davi¡¯s heart.


    Davi wove her way easily through the maze of tables and chairs ¡ª she¡¯d spent almost just as much of her childhood here in Mercey¡¯s as she had in her father¡¯s garage or the shipyard and could probably make her way through the bar in her sleep. She offered an easy grin to those few faces she recognized (mostly her fellow crew members, because nothing felt better after a long space journey than a cold drink) and a polite nod to those she didn¡¯t.


    And stopped just behind Payton.


    ¡°For the last time, Ford,¡± the other girl was saying to one of the three table occupants, exasperation lacing her tone. She held up the hand that wasn¡¯t grasping her notepad, and glared down at the morose young man with a flop of sandy hair and a hopeful twinkle in his eye. Next to him sat the one and only Brooks Dorian ¡ª whose expression shuttered when he say the ship engineer¡¯s approach ¡ª and C¡¯ader, the large and jovial Tzannic who rented the flat across the hall from Davi and her father.


    Payton ticked up a finger, ¡°I¡¯m not interesting,¡± another finger, ¡°I¡¯m taken,¡± a third finger, ¡°and if you¡¯re not going to order anything, I¡¯m going to have to ask you to leave. Now,¡± she pulled out her pad.


    Davi tapped a finger against Payton¡¯s shoulder.


    ¡°Can I get you anything to-Davi!¡±


    The last word ended in a shriek.


    Davi braced herself against the bar as the full weight of Payton¡¯s hug hit her. For a slight girl, the seventeen-year-old bartender was stronger than she looked. Payton¡¯s arms practically squeezed the air out of Davi¡¯s lungs. ¡°I missed you!¡± she said, her voice trembling.


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    Tears pricked at Davi¡¯s eyes and she buried her face against Payton¡¯s shoulder. ¡°I missed you too,¡± the words came out muffled and quiet ¡ª so quiet, Davi wasn¡¯t sure the other girl heard her.


    Payton just squeezed her again ¡ª Davi wheezed ¡ª and let go. She snatched her hand and turned to the table of three. ¡°Sorry,¡± Payton said, ¡°I¡¯ll be back.¡±


    She moved to drag the other girl off towards the back room, but Ford protested. ¡°What about our food?¡±


    Payton waved a hand over her shoulder. ¡°Someone will be right out.¡±


    ¡°But-¡±


    A hand landed heavy on Ford¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Let them go,¡± C¡¯ader said in his deep, accented voice. He shot a knowing grin at Davi, and pink tinged the young engineer¡¯s cheeks. ¡°We have an old saying on the Tzannic Moons, ¡®young love is an asteroid. Once in motion¡­¡¯¡± He trailed off, shaking his head.


    Ford and Dorian stared at him.


    C¡¯ader just lifted his mug and drank.


    Payton only dropped Davi¡¯s hand once they made it to the room around the back of the bar. It was small, and towering shelves of various supplies lined all four walls. Payton reached down and pulled up a little round table and two chairs from the floor.


    Davi tried not to focus on the lingering warmth of her friend¡¯s hand. She failed. ¡°Sit,¡± Payton pointed at one of the chairs. ¡°And wait right here. I¡¯ll be right back.¡±


    Davi immediately melted into the chair with a sigh. Between docking the ship and running through the post-check, she¡¯d been on her feet for hours. Her legs relished the break and her feet ¡ª well, they weren¡¯t complaining now, but she knew as soon as she stood up they¡¯d be screaming at her.


    Several minutes later, Payton reappeared at the door with two steaming plates of food. She settled one in front of Davi, then perched on the chair opposite her. ¡°Tell me everything,¡± she demanded.


    Davi spoke as she ate. She told Payton about the beautiful cosmos, and the merchants at the other station who had tried to scam them out of their full price. She told her about the strange foreign fruit she¡¯d gotten to try and the Tzannic royal ship they¡¯d passed in the air. Payton gasped and laughed, and Davi relished every expression that crossed the other girl¡¯s face.


    When she got to the reason they¡¯d been so delayed, the other girl¡¯s wide brown eyes filled with tears. ¡°He¡¯s gone?¡±


    Davi could only nod, and wait for her throat to clear.


    Payton reached across the table and covered her hand. ¡°Davi, I¡¯m so sorry.¡±


    Davi just shrugged, but Payton knew her ¡ª sometimes better than she knew herself ¡ª and saw the pain filtering through her friend¡¯s eyes.


    She tensed her hand before pulling back.


    ¡°So you actually got to visit Coth XRH. Was it as terrifying as they say?¡±


    Davi shot her friend a look. After all, Davi knew Payton ¡ª sometimes better than she knew herself ¡ª and the topic shift was, well, not exactly subtle.


    Still, she leaned forward, eyes twinkling. ¡°Terrifying-er.¡±


    Payton gasped.


    Davi wiggled her eyebrows. ¡°There I was, soaring through the belt¡­¡±


    ***


    It would be another hour before both girls emerged from the back room. Hands clasped, reluctantly making their way towards the entrance, where the noonday sun filtered into the dim room.


    Their steps brought them past the table with Ford ¡ª an untouched plate of food in front of him ¡ª and Dorlac, who paused in picking at his nails with a metal screw. C¡¯ader, who was well into his cups and had never accustomed himself to the strength of Terran ale, waved a hand as the girls passed. ¡°Davi!¡± his voice boomed through the bar.


    Davi and Payton paused just inside the exit.


    ¡°Heard-¡± hiccup ¡°-yeh gotta prom¡­ promo¡­ promotion!¡± C¡¯ader stumbled out. He shot her a toothy grin. ¡°Yer ol¡¯ man¡¯s gotta be proud.¡± Burp.


    Davi grinned right back. ¡°I haven¡¯t told him yet. Had to see Payton first.¡± She squeezed Payton¡¯s hand.


    Payton squeezed right back. ¡°Go,¡± she said. Then, her eyes darting left and right, she stretched onto her toes and pecked Davi right across the lips.


    They broke apart, grinning, and then Davi was gone, disappearing back onto the streets of Port Havre¡­


    ¡­unaware of the matching glares of jealousy and hatred boring into her retreating figure.

 Letters and Liars

    ¡°I jus¡¯ don¡¯t get it,¡± Ford Mandeaux mumbled, crossing his arms and slouching further into his seat. Heavy lids fell over cold, ice-blue eyes that jumped between glaring at the unsuspecting door ¡ª out which Davi Edmara had disappeared just several minutes ago ¡ª and the young olive-skinned bartender. He sniffed once. ¡°What does she see in her?¡±


    Beside him, the twenty-something-year-old Brooks Dorlac shrugged with equal moroseness. ¡°What does he see in her?¡± He¡¯d turned his attention back to his grimy nails. ¡°She¡¯s a starry-eyed kid. Captain,¡± he spat derisively. ¡°Captain, my ass.¡±


    ¡°Come now,¡± slurred the heavy-set C¡¯ader, looking between the two men with a furrow in his brow, ¡°yer home! That¡¯s cause enough teh celebrate. Another!¡± he bellowed, hefting his mug into the air.


    Neither of the old Tzannic¡¯s companions mentioned what they might have been thinking ¡ª which was that C¡¯ader was three drinks past anymore ¡®celebrating¡¯. Instead, they sat, absorbed in their mulish, ugly thoughts while the Tzannic called for another round.


    C¡¯ader was a round, jovial man who had grown up in the Tzannic Moons, a sparkling system of opulence and wealth. There were four of them, these Tzannic Moons, and they orbited the uninhabitable gas planet of Tzannta. The four moons ¡ª Ilta 4, Emillon, Junnea KH, and Leicon ¡ª offered a front row seat to the sparkling swirls of space dust that formed the great gas planet, and it was rumored by those few who had traveled to the moons and decided to leave that the sky wa a never-ending mosaic of colors, and if you stared too long you might get dizzy.


    ¡°¡®T ain¡¯t true,¡± C¡¯ader had once rumbled to a young Davi, who had asked the man why he would ever leave such a beautiful place. ¡°The- how do you say- the, hem, atophere?¡±


    ¡°Atmosphere?¡±


    ¡°Yes, that. It¡¯s red. Durin¡¯ a space storm-¡± Which was what they called it when, every year on a different day, the planet would release bright, colorful gasses into space in a shower of color, ¡°is when the sky goes like that.¡±


    ¡°Only once a year?¡± Little Davi had frowned in disappointment. Then she¡¯d simply added this ¡®Tzannic Storm¡¯ to Davi¡¯s Grand List of Things to See Before She Died.


    (It was a long list.)


    The people who lived on the Tzannic Moons came from an early offshoot of Terran space travelers, and were ruled by the Tzannic Council ¡ª a large ruling class of affluent citizens. Since the Bonnic Wars, the Tzannic Council had claimed some semblance of control over the Terran planets and stations as well, in the form of a POLIS ¡ª or a Planetary Orbital League of Integrated States.


    More importantly to the trio huddled around the table at Mercey¡¯s, however, was the Tzannic¡¯s low tolerance for ale, beer, and other Terran-made substances. Thus, C¡¯ader was too deep in his cups to do more than stare blurrily when Brooks Dorlac suddenly sat forward. ¡°You know she went to Elba ii while we were waitin¡¯ on the old Captain to croak? To see if she could get him help.¡±


    Ford Mandeaux just frowned through his limp blond bangs. ¡°Ain¡¯t that where Major Bonna was imprisoned?¡±


    Dorlac nodded. ¡°An¡¯ now she¡¯s sneaking ¡®round with an unidentified comm drive. I bet if the proper authorities knew that, there¡¯s no way Moore would make ¡®er capt¡¯n.¡±


    Ford¡¯s eyes flickered to the bar and back.


    Dorlac followed his gaze to where Payton Ladr¨®n was clearing a set of dirty plates. She threw her head back and laughed at something the patron said, her olive skin practically glowing in the low light, eyes twinkling. ¡°And yeh know,¡± Dorlac continued, slowing his words, ¡°it would prolly leave a certain someone free for the taking.¡±


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    Ford¡¯s ice-blue eyes darted to Dorlac¡¯s bloodshot ones. His back straightened an iota, then he slumped back down. Both men were silent for a moment, relishing in the daydream of Davi¡¯s downfall.


    ¡°We¡¯d have to write an anonymous comm,¡± Ford said. ¡°You know, so no one would know it¡¯s us.¡±


    Dorlac frowned. ¡°What would it say?¡±


    ¡°Dear¡­no¡­¡± Ford pulled out his comm and opened a draft comm. A toothy grin started to peek through his lips. ¡°To whom it may concern.¡±


    ¡°Tha¡¯z good,¡± Dorlac said. He lifted his drink and took a gulp. Set it down, and thought. ¡°We, a very concerned party-¡±


    ¡°Take out the very,¡± Ford cut in. ¡°More professional.¡±


    Dorlac nodded, though he¡¯d never really made it his business to learn what was ¡®professional¡¯ or not. ¡°-wanted to bring to your attention that one Davi Edmara, daughter of Louis Edmara and ship engineer on The Pharaon, travelled to-¡±


    ¡°-made unsanctioned contact with-¡±


    ¡°Nice,¡± Dorlac said, ¡°made unsanctioned contact with a one Major Bonna on Elba ii. She returned with an anonymous comm drive and rumors of a coming revolution.¡±


    Ford¡¯s fingers paused. ¡°Did she actually?¡±


    Dorlac just shrugged. ¡°Nah. But who¡¯re they teh say? Besides,¡± he shrugged again. ¡°We¡¯re jus¡¯ playing around.¡±


    ¡°Right,¡± Ford agreed. He looked down at his comm. ¡°From, a concerned citizen.¡± He punctuated the last letter with a flourish and dropped his comm to the table.


    For a silent moment, both Ford Mandeaux and Brooks Dorlac stared at the comm screen.


    Then, between them, C¡¯ader belched. ¡°C¡¯mon,¡± he rumbled. ¡°This play-game isn¡¯t gonna get nothing done. An¡¯ that Davi¡¯s a good girl. Delete that,¡± He belched again. ¡°I mean it. ¡®nother drink!¡± he bellowed.


    ¡°Ah, no,¡± Payton called, her voice cutting across the bar. ¡°I¡¯m cutting you off, C¡¯ader. You¡¯ve had enough!¡±


    C¡¯ader¡¯s forehead slumped forward, nearly bumping the table. Dorlac shoved him upright. ¡°Time to get yeh home.¡±


    As Dorlac and C¡¯ader stumbled out into the simulated daylight of the station beyond, Ford stayed slumped exactly where he was, his eyes trained on the open comm, slipping over the words. After a few minutes, Payton wandered reluctantly in his direction. She slid the untouched plate of food a look. ¡°Can I get you anything else?¡±


    Ford just shook his head.


    Then, silently sliding the comm into his pocket, he slouched out the door.


    ***


    Across the small station of Port Havre, in a grandly-architectured building ¡ª complete with the scored ancient columns of prehistoric Terran society, and the grand arched doorways carved from cream-colored imported stone from Tzannta ¡ª a secretary snoozed softly at her desk.


    It was a quiet day at the Consulate Courthouse. A few minor cases had come through ¡ª one rental dispute had gotten particularly heated and she¡¯d had to call the enforcers to break up the fight. Otherwise, all the interesting cases were being held until the Consulate Judge was back.


    And so, it was a quiet day at the Consulate Courthouse.


    A soft ding! heralded a new comm on the secretary¡¯s account. She snorted awake. Straightening her blouse, she clicked through and scanned the comm-


    -and immediately shot to her feet.


    ¡°Bothe,¡± she called. When no one responded, she raised her voice. ¡°Bothe!¡±


    ¡°What?¡± A head appeared around the door of an open office.


    The secretary took a breath. ¡°How important did you say the Consulate Judge¡¯s appointment was?¡±


    ¡®Bothe¡¯ raised a brow and lowered his voice. ¡°It¡¯s his engagement dinner. I¡¯d say it¡¯s rather important.¡±


    ¡°More important than this?¡± The older woman spun her screen around.


    Bothe quickly scanned the comm. Then, he sucked in a breath, and read it a second time. On the third read-through, he said quietly, ¡°Harris?¡±


    ¡°Yes?¡±


    ¡°Send a courier to the Rosecrantz Hotel. Tell him it¡¯s urgent.¡±


    As Harris hurried down the hall, heels clicking, to summon a courier, Bothe barked after her, ¡°And get the enforcers here! Now!¡±