Shadow of the Chimera (Reckless Faith VII), Chapter 10

Spoiler alert: This is a new entry for the 7th book in the Reckless Faith series. The prologue may be found here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2022/12/15/reckless-faith-vii-prologue/

The New Haven Marketplace was a sprawling underground complex, crammed with shops, questionable restaurants, bars, cheap lodging, and flophouses. It had been built decades earlier as a colony for an apocalyptic cult, whose members and wealthy benefactors believed that the end of the world was inevitable, and life on the surface would be impossible. Though that never happened, on a typical Saturday night, one might think the world was about to end with the amount of drunken debauchery to be found. Wei Zhu Lesath didn’t like being there, especially late at night, but it was great for business.

That night, she found herself sitting street-side at a café stand on Scorpion Avenue, a corridor that spanned the entire length of the complex. It was the only space in the complex that was two stories in height, so it wasn’t nearly as claustrophobic as the rest of it, but it was also the rowdiest street there. Still, crime wasn’t as rampant as one might imagine, as extra-judicial punishments were the norm, and a hapless thief might quickly discover one or both of their hands removed from their bodies. Other, more serious crimes, were dealt with just as harshly. Such a system wasn’t exactly reassuring, so Lesath’s pistol was always ready by her side.

Though her primary occupation was bounty hunting, she also dabbled in gun-running when bounties were hard to come by. Today was such a day, and the dozen plasma rifles in the hold on her ship held the promise of a paycheck that would tide her and her crew over for a few weeks. The rifles were older technology, bulkier and less efficient than newer models, but still quite deadly. And while she could have sold them legally on a few planets within her reach, the duties, taxes, and paperwork made it more appealing to find a black-market buyer.

So she sat, waiting for her contact to arrive, sipping a beer with an offensively-low alcohol content, and tried to make it clear to anyone observing her that she was paying attention to her surroundings. Across the street, keeping his eye on her, was her first mate, Sargas, a Rakhar with golden brown fur and arms as wide as his own head. A bit of a character, Sargas didn’t carry a gun, only a Rakhar battle blade, proudly displayed on his belt. He was of the opinion that his size and soft-spoken demeanor was enough to keep him safe, and who was Lesath to argue? It had worked for him so far. Even so, there had been at least one situation that would have been resolved more easily if Sargas had just shot the guy, rather than close the distance and decapitate him.

“Don’t lose your head,” he had said, then laughed so hard that Lesath thought her implants would shake loose. Such levity was rare from the man; usually people thought he was angry all the time. Instead, he was level-headed and trustworthy, and Lesath was glad to have him on her side. He stood like a statue on the other side of the road, his eyes hidden behind his augmented sunglasses, as a sea of wobbly pedestrians, suicidal bicyclists, and homicidal rickshaw drivers went by. He waited with unwavering patience, a trait that Lesath could stand to improve for herself. She finished her beer, despite nursing it for thirty minutes, and ordered another.

She made it halfway through the glass when a Z’Sorth approached her. It was wearing a hooded cloak, as if it wanted to live up to a certain stereotype, and gathered its squat frame up onto the stool next to her. Saying nothing, it simply slid a holocredit chip across the counter to her. She scanned it with her PDA, verifying the funds, and nodded at the Z’Sorth.

“The Antares is in orbit,” she said lowly. “Where do you want to do the transfer?”

The creature pulled out its PDA, typed on it, then displayed to her a set of terrestrial coordinates. Lesath entered the information into her own device, then smiled at her guest. The Z’Sorth plopped back onto the pavement, and shuffled off from whence it came. She pushed the glass toward the other side of the counter, glad to be done with the ruse of enjoying it, and crossed the street to Sargas.

“Chatty fellow,” she said. “He wants us to meet him at a set of coordinates that correspond to a point just outside of Regolith, on the northeast continent.”

“Isn’t Regolith abandoned?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I’ve never been there.”

“Well, it was, last I knew. If that’s still true, then it’s a good a place as any.”

“All right, then. Let’s head back to the Antares.”

The pair made their way down Scorpion Ave until they reached the main set of elevators. Two locals flanked the way to the cars, armed with rifles, and Lesath showed them the receipt that proved they had already paid their entry fees. That done, they boarded a car and returned to the surface. The elevator building was in the middle of an arid desert, surrounded by dunes, and isolated by a hundred miles from the nearest settlement. A fleet of six bulldozers sat nearby, necessary to keep both the building and a respectable landing area clear of sand. The lot they kept clear currently had over two dozen ships and shuttles parked there, and they weaved between them to reach their own shuttle. The tiny vessel barely fit both of them, but it was small enough to fit inside the bay of its host ship. They boarded, and Sargas fired it up.

Lesath let him worry about flying, and synced her PDA with its on-board computer. A message had been forwarded to her by D’Schubba, her Residerian engineer. It was a new bounty offer.

“Check this out,” she began, “Anachrona has just posted a new corral. Four million sectarian credits, if you can believe it.”

Sargas grunted as he pushed the shuttle through the stratosphere. “You know what they say about things that are too good to be true, boss.”

“Yeah, well, it costs nothing to register as an interested party.” She scrutinized the posting further. “They want us to capture a ship, with a consolation prize of a hundred thousand for providing its whereabouts, or that of five of its supposed allies. There are names and diagrams of all six vessels here. Last known location, Anachronia.”

“What’s the name of the quarry?”

“Temeraria Fides. That translates as Reckless Faith.”

__________

Faen Leonid sat on the bridge of the Fox, watching with fascination as the ship approached a planet named Far Reach. Though she was being treated well on the Percheron, they persisted in regarding her as a neophyte, and while the circumstances that led her there seemed to justify that perception, she had grown increasingly unsatisfied with being marginalized and coddled. Having almost unlimited access to their database, and after learning as much as she could about each vessel in their ad hoc alliance, she had requested a place on the Fox. While the Reckless Faith offered a similar lifestyle, she believed she would be more useful on Kitsune’s ship. Though everyone seemed rather wrapped up in whatever the hell was going on, she was afforded the time to make her case to Reveki and the rest of her crew.

It was then that she learned that the Fox had recently lost their best engineer, a Kau’Rii named Arture Talyn, who had been killed in combat. A simple verbal interview with Captain Kitsune, Mister Venator, and the Parmenter siblings, was enough to convince them that she was qualified enough for the role. Christie had replicated for her some clothing, an EVA suit, a sidearm, and other field accoutrements, and then Faen was transferred to the Fox. Whether or not she would be happy there remained to be seen, but at least she now had her own quarters.

She was particularly excited that afternoon, because the Fox had been given an interesting mission. Far Reach had been identified as a world where they could probably purchase information without interference, and while it seemed unlikely that anyone there would have scanners as advanced as Anachronia, the Terran and Vastuvian ships were going to hold back at around 5 AU just in case. The Fox was a natural candidate for the task, as its design was less likely to draw attention than the others; not by virtue of its appearance, but by its conventional engine and weaponry. It would burn a lot of fuel to land it, but apparently the Reckless Faith could simply replicate more fuel for them.

So off they went, with a fresh supply of element 79 to try to entice some sellers into parting with their knowledge. The rest of the crew of the Fox was also excited to explore a new world, especially since so little was known about Far Reach. The info they got from the Anachronians about it was cursory, at best. The planet itself was an otherwise unremarkable blue-green world, 0.9 AU from its host star. Cane had been scanning the area since they dropped out of FTL, and now that Vecky had brought them to within visual range, he scrutinized the results.

“I’m still not reading any ship traffic,” he said. “There are a dozen or so satellites in orbit; all of them are broadcasting signals, but only three of them are unencrypted, and they’re part of a weather monitoring system. There are no automated welcome messages. Ship traffic appears to be unregulated.”

“That certainly simplifies things,” replied Vecky. “I’m going to establish an orbit at three hundred kilometers, one OPM. Let’s see if we can spot some larger cities.”

Vecky maneuvered the ship until they were in orbit. Off the port side, the planet took up their entire field of view. Cities were hard to spot with the naked eye at that distance, but as they swung around to the night side of the planet, several locations were easily recognizable.

“It’s pretty sparsely populated. According to our scanners, only four of those metropolises look like they’re over a hundred thousand in population. Most cities appear to be a tenth of that, or less.”

“I’d like to choose one of the larger cities on the daytime side. Without anything else to go on, let’s hope our first guess is fruitful.”

There were no objections, so Vecky prepared the ship for entry and guided it into the atmosphere. The city she had chosen was nestled within a horseshoe-shaped ridge of mountains on the southwestern continent; snow-capped peaks gave birth to rivulets on their slopes, which coalesced into a fair-sized river which bisected the city. Though sprawling in area, the city’s buildings were generally uniform in appearance, with most not exceeding ten stories, and a small extension of suburbs ringed it on three sizes. As they drew closer, it was apparent that while streets and infrastructure had been planned for the suburban areas, construction had been halted at some point. A slow circle around the city revealed entire blocks that had finished roads, but no buildings.

A half a mile to the east of the bulk of the settlement was a larger building that was meant as either a trade port or a space port; the lack of any activity made it difficult to tell. Still, it offered plenty of hard-top to use as a landing spot, so Vecky brought the Fox toward a clear section just south of the dome-shaped structure. She had maneuvered close enough to the ground to see faded lines painted on the pavement, when a transmission was received.

“We’re being hailed,” said Cane. “Audio only.”

“Put it through.”

A stilted voice could be heard, obviously artificial in construct. “Delphinus-class vessel, landing fees to Valley Crest are five hundred thousand sectarian credits. You must present a form of payment before you will be allowed to land.”

“Any idea how much that is in terms we can understand?”

“No fucking clue.”

“All right, then. Open the channel. Valley Crest, we are willing to pay the landing fee, but we need more information…”

Vecky’s message was cut off by a barrage of large plasma bolts that shot across their bow, from previously unnoticed batteries to the west. She punched her flight controls, juking backwards for a moment before pulling back on the stick and heading for clear skies.

“They’re still firing at us.”

“What the hell? They can get all the way fucked.”

By the time the Fox had reached thirty thousand feet, incoming fire had ceased.

“We should teach them a lesson,” began Dalia, “and take out those plasma batteries.”

Cane rolled his eyes. “It would be fun, but there are plenty of other cities to try. We’re trying to make friends here, remember?”

“Just get me the coordinates for the next closest city, would you?” asked Vecky.

Cane displayed the requested information on the HUD, and Vecky steered the ship in that direction. It only took about five minutes to get there. The next location was on the coast of the same continent, at the delta of the river that formed at Valley Crest. This one was about half the size of the one previous, but had taller buildings and a much smaller suburban area. As they drew closer, Vecky spotted a parking lot outside of what looked like a grocery store. Completely empty of any vehicles, it made for an acceptable place to land. As the ship made contact with the ground, it became clear that the store had been closed for a long time.

Vecky locked down the flight controls, then spoke. “All right, Penrose, Sam, Dalia, I want two of you to stay here and mind the ship. Flip a coin or something.”

Penrose smirked. “So, you’re just going to assume that you, Cane, and Faen are going out?”

She elbowed him on the shoulder. “I’m in charge, Cane has street-smarts, and Faen hasn’t smelled fresh air in years. I’m just trying to be fair.”

Sam produced a coin, and the trio in question quickly figured out who would be the lucky winner, though the honor would be dubious if they were all killed. Penrose won, much to his satisfaction.

Dalia frowned. “You really think sending such a skilled doctor into the field is wise?”

“Call it a morale effort. I don’t need anyone here getting bored; I’m not the only employer in the galaxy. Come on, then, let’s get kitted up.”

Faen was beside herself with glee as she and the others grabbed sidearms, body armor, and a few basic supplies. She had been given by Christie a pistol called a Beretta PX4, and while the moniker meant nothing to her, it had been easy for her to learn how to use it, with Evangeline providing the instruction. Of all the choices offered to her, she liked it the most.

The body armor was a concealable type that protected the torso, and was constructed of tightly-woven synthetic fibers and front-and-back ceramic plates, the latter meant to absorb energy at the expense of their own integrity. Together, the combination had been proven to be effective against both projectile and energy weapons, though she had been advised that it was still preferable not to be hit in the first place.

Once they were ready to go, she and the others gathered at the starboard-side airlock, and Vecky opened both sets of doors. She then extended a set of stairs to the pavement, and they exited the ship. Faen paused briefly to take in a deep breath of the planet’s air, reveling in how crisp and fresh it felt. As Vecky had mentioned, it had been a long time since she’d visited any world other than her home planet.

It was about a kilometer to the city proper from there, and their walk was uneventful. As they approached, they observed a marked increase in normal metropolitan activity, including businesses, vehicle traffic, and pedestrians. The locals were humanoid of amphibian origin, though at this point in their evolution they appeared more like primates than their froggy ancestors. Still, the lineage was undeniable, especially in their faces. For the most part, they were ignored, though some of the more curious folks gave them greater than just a cursory glance.

They had traversed several blocks, passing increasingly tall skyscrapers, until they found what they were looking for. A restaurant serving alcohol, busy with customers, lay before them. Faen noticed that there were no other species inside, a fact that gave her pause, but Vecky and Cane seemed undeterred by this. So they entered, claimed an unoccupied table, and waited. Eventually, a waitress approached them, her large, round eyes reflecting multiple light sources. Fortunately, the translation earpieces they were all wearing had no problem with her language.

“You guys lost?” she asked.

“Not really,” replied Vecky. “We’re new to this sector, and we’re trying to gather information about it. We tried Valley Crest just now, but they were less than accommodating.”

The waitress made a guttural sound. “Yes, they’re rather cautious of outsiders.”

“That’s putting it mildly. We’re glad this city is more welcoming. What do you call it?”

Faen’s translator gave its best guess at the response. “Pacifica.”

“Thank you. We’ll start with some beer.”

“Beer?”

“Uh… an alcoholic beverage fermented from grain and/or barley.”

“Okay. I’ll bring over a sampler for each of you, then you can tell me if any of them suit your fancy.”

“Sounds good.”

The waitress went up to the bar. Penrose looked at Vecky.

“You’re not going to ask her anything else?”

“All in good time,” said Cane.

A few minutes later, the waitress returned with four planks, each bearing five small glasses of liquid ranging in color from amber to dark brown. After carefully placing them on the table, she produced a piece of paper from a pocket on her apron and put it down in front of them. Faen had to guess that it was a description of the drinks, though she had no hope of reading the language. Vecky retrieved a small, thin gold ingot and offered it to her.

“Is this element 79?” she asked, the translator changing the word for them from what she actually said.

“Yes,” said Vecky.

“This looks like way too much.”

“Consider it a tip, and also a way for us to ask you a question.”

She put the ingot in her pants pocket. “Go ahead.”

“As I mentioned, we’re in need of information about this sector; in addition to basic stuff like military powers, their spheres of influence, and known threats, we also need to know where to get work, whether routine transport, escorts, or even mercenary opportunities.”

“Far Reach wasn’t your best bet, we’re fairly isolated here. However, there is a place where you can probably find what you’re looking for, in one form or another. I’d recommend you visit the New Haven Marketplace.”