The Fate of Terra Ch. 16

The alien frowned and answered dismissively, "It exceeds fifty different kinds. I'll send you the list."

As he turned away again, Michael asked, "Do Aurein credits happen to be on that list?" It was, if he remembered correctly, what he recalled the merchant consortium dealing in.

The alien froze and he recognized the indiscriminate emotion of greed cross his face. "You have this?" he demanded. Michael tilted his head in acknowledgement as Pandora paid the fees to rent out a hangar slot for twelve hours... or rather, convinced their computers that she was doing so.

They only took two shuttles. The trade delegation members wanted to meet with some of their contacts and check in through the usual channels so they took one. Marcus and a security team would be going with Sun Mi to check out the markets and try to catalog what was sold as well as search for leads on the black coating. Michael, Kat, and Pandora would be coming along -more to sightsee than anything else.

As they landed in the dingy, metal bay filled with grime and miles of questionably harmless electrical cables, Pandora practically buzzed with excitement. "Master, I found another one!" she exclaimed.

Kat looked at her curiously, but Michael knew his creation well enough to know what would cause her reaction. "And, is it as advanced as you are?" he asked curiously.

She pouted and shook her head, locks of raven hair waving back and forth. "The artificial intelligence is quite primitive. It has specific functions to operate the trader's ship and nothing else. There are a host of limits placed on the program and doing anything besides what it's expressly ordered to do is forbidden. It is far from sentient."

Kat gave her a reassuring smile and bumped her shoulder. Michael said, "Well, keep talking to it. You might learn something from how it was created." Pandora nodded her head absently as they filed down the lowered ramp. He'd been surprised to learn that the station actually had a breathable mix of oxygen, though he should have expected it. They'd learned in one of the lectures aboard that species of their general physiology were in the majority, making up something like 77% of the estimated habitable planets in the galaxy.

They approached what could only be described as Customs and the security guards almost had a fit when the scanners designed to search for weapons came up empty as the troopers were clearly armed and Michael wore his sword openly. In the end though, they didn't make too big an issue out of it considering the Intrepid was still orbiting around the station. What did a few guns matter when they could blow them to bits whenever they wanted?

Sun Mi was amazing and had found the interface used to buy and sell goods as well as services before they'd even set foot on the station. She'd already had three messages in her queue offering to trade for information regarding the black substance before they'd even started looking. Two of the offers were made by independents that looked more than a little shady, but one of the messages was sent from what appeared to be a sizeable business that was headquartered in the market area.

Michael told the others that he, Kat, and Pandora would check out the two questionable leads while they went and ran down the legitimate-looking one since they needed to make a pass at the market anyway. Marcus was against this plan, muttering something about suicidal leaders, but Michael waved away his concerns and walked off, his two beauties keeping pace with him.

The inside of the space station was much as one might expect. Bare metal corridors with a medley of sights and sounds unique to the area that reminded him of visiting a new country. The center levels were more airy and open, dotted with shops and what he could only assume were restaurants, showing off an assortment of vines and flora as the first image visitors were greeted with.

Individuals of all shapes of sizes and from all walks of life moved around them in a sea of activity, some walking from place to place with purpose, others simply milling around and enjoying the atmosphere. Most wore some type of vacsuit with the helmet off and after Michael's recent adventure he could understand the precaution.

Their first contact resided in the upper levels. As they exited the lift, they could tell this was a more upscale area. Some type of plastic covering hid the harshness of the bulkheads and a few of the sections they passed by looked downright gaudy. They entered the listed establishment and were met with an empty room and a panel. Pandora typed in the code they'd been given, commenting that this place appeared to be some form of hotel with multiple lounges and meeting rooms.

The entire platform they were standing on began to rise in the air. The walls became transparent and they enjoyed a nice view of the square below before the lift stopped and the far wall retracted. They stepped through the hallway that was revealed, eventually reaching a single circular hatch that spun open as they neared.

Walking into the room, they were met with an open, dimly lit area. There were numerous benches and lounge chairs that looked decidedly uncomfortable for a human to sit on. Out of what the aliens probably assumed was darkness --though the three could see the figures hiding in it perfectly well- a lanky bipedal alien, reddish purple in color, stepped forward and gave them what was probably the most disconcerting smile Michael had ever seen.

It made a strange hissing noise that was apparently an actual language because Pandora translated, "He wants to know if you are the leader of the massive ship in space. He's quite insistent that he will only provide the information he has to the overall commander."

Kat rolled her eyes and threw her arms out in a disgusted gesture. Michael gave a snort and in passable Standard told the alien, "Well, now that we know this is a trap... I mean honestly, where'd you learn to lie, a fucking... uh," he poked Pandora in the ribs, "how do you say convent?"

The alien's beady little eyes grew wide and he backpedaled furiously as those waiting in the shadows drew funny-looking side arms. Michael sighed insufferably as Kat and Pandora blurred into action. He lazily raised his arm and a dart shot out and hit the speaker, not really caring if the being had a reaction to the tranquilizer because of the difference in biology. He looked up and observed the gore-spattered room with mild distaste. "Well?" he asked.

Pandora answered, "Records show him as being a high-ranking security official. It appears that he was doing this off the books though, whether for ransom or he felt safer with a hostage I don't know. I've silenced any alarms and we should still have a few hours before anyone notices his absence."

He sighed and said, "Then this was solely a ploy and there's virtually no chance of him knowing anything about the Rhemish substance." He shrugged and waved a hand. A bolt of plasma shot out from Pandora's palm and ended the unconscious alien's life. Michael reached down and picked up one of the aliens' weapons. It shot out a wicked-looking dart and his eyes rose. "Nifty," he observed. "More importantly, it looks like they were trying to be covert as well."

Kat picked up a bottle of... something and sniffed it curiously. She wrinkled her nose before placing it back on the table. She walked over to Michael and kissed him soundly as she came down from her adrenaline rush --though truth be told, she'd barely been able to enjoy it for more than a couple of seconds. "You take me to the nicest places," she declared with a teasing grin. Pandora came up behind her and rubbed her ass through the greatcoat.

Michael felt himself grow hard and looked around at the dead bodies frowning. He sighed and muttered, "I'm getting too desensitized to this shit..."

They exited the hotel and took a lift down to the bowels of the space station where their next meeting was scheduled. As they came out onto the second to last level, the corridors narrowed considerably and it soon became apparent that this was the slums. The scents, sounds, and lighting were all different and gave the place a dark, sinister aura.

They passed by plain, unadorned doors with no windows and nothing to advertise what type of business they were. Every once and awhile they'd see aliens scurrying back and forth huddled in clothes or loose covering of some sort. On the other hand, they saw quite a few individuals that practically swaggered and were most definitely armed. Outside one establishment, there was a crowd of such characters milling around outside talking with each other.

Peeking through the doorway past them, Kat stopped and exclaimed, "No fucking way!" Pandora and Michael crowded around her and looked.

"Huh," Michael commented, surprised. "An alien strip club... Though, it looks like they're doing more than taking off their clothes." Kat looked at him pitifully and he laughed, "Maybe after the meeting." The place they met their contact resembled a dingy, darkly lit bar that had an assortment of different-looking patrons. Stepping through the entranceway, Michael frowned. "Damn. No cantina music."

Kat laughed and Pandora directed them over to a table where she'd scoped out their contact, matching his image with the one registered to the license number on his networked profile. The alien looked impressed when they came over to him without any direction. He was a tall human-proportioned individual with dusky blue skin, a ripped and patched flak jacket, and wearing boots with metal attachments Michael guessed could stick to the deck resting crossed atop the table.

He put his feet down as they approached and a hand slid inside his jacket. A red beam shot from Pandora's left eye to where his hand rested and she warned in a low voice, "Slowly." A look of wary surprise crossed his face before quickly being replaced by one of appreciation. He pulled out a case and the three sat down across from him on a kind of cushioned bench. He turned a dial on the case and a hazy holographic screen encompassed the booth. "Audio and visual jammer for recording devices," Pandora explained in a voice that clearly said it was a waste of time with her present.

"You're definitely the real thing," their contact observed in Galactic Standard, looking Pandora over. "It's not every rotation we get to see a newly discovered race of such... advancement. Usually one of the preservation committees is dispatched to protect them from a lone pirate trying to come in and declare himself king. For a modest twenty percent of their available resources over the next hundred or so cycles, of course..."

Kat scoffed and noted, "Sounds like the B'Amuf. Maybe we should be glad those slugs came. I have a feeling fighting bureaucracy would have been harder."

Their contact looked suddenly fearful and glanced around. "You don't mention their name," he cautioned. "No one likes them, but we all have to deal with them. Not directly, as no one knows their language, but you keep their mediaries happy or else they might recommend to their masters that you are better off ruled directly."

He swallowed nervously. "There are a few that resist, of course, the Rhemish that you are so interested about, a few of the bigger alliances, and one of the bigger merchant conglomerates... There are even rumors of even more powerful races being gobbled up by a super race coming out of the center of the galaxy, but that's a little farfetched."

"I've a feeling there will soon be a few more added to that list," Michael stated enigmatically. "Now, the black coating?"

The alien leaned back and said, "Let's discuss price first."

A wicked-looking dagger appeared in Kat's hand and she growled, "How about you tell us what you're offering so we know that we aren't wasting our time."

Something in her glare left the alien shaken and he got to the point. "I know where the Rhemish get it from and the dangers involved in the process. Personally, I think it's impossible obtain, but I'm offering the exact location."

Michael rapped the table. "How much?" he asked.

"Oh no," the alien denied. "I know you somehow hacked this place's systems. I won't accept any of your fake credits. No, I want something material." As the three continued to stare at him, he nodded his head in Pandora's direction and said, "her."

Michael waited for Pandora to cut off a few of his fingers for his audacity and was surprised when his AI just sat there. He turned to her with a raised eyebrow and noticed her head bowed, resigned. He felt a flash of anger and grabbed her chin, turning her to face him sharply. "You still don't trust me?" he demanded heatedly. Her eyes grew wide and he snarled, "We will discuss this later."

Kat had in the meantime reached across the table and grabbed the alien by the neck and, faster than he could react, pulled him off of his seat and flipped him so he was facing upwards with his back against the flat surface. She squeezed as his hands flapped around helplessly and he trembled in fear. She lowered the knife to his eye and said, her tone turning deadly, "You've just caused offense. You're lucky to still be breathing, but if I find the next offer you make to be unreasonable I will carve you into a thousand tiny pieces."

The alien gasped and looked out at the bar, but because of the distorted screen no one knew what was going on, not that it would have made a difference to Kat. He finally gurgled, "Fine! Anything... Please don't kill me!" Kat threw him back to his side disgustedly. The alien started talking before he'd even hit the bench. He rattled off dimensional coordinates that only Pandora was able to understand and began babbling too fast for Michael or Kat to follow.

Pandora translated, "There's a binary system that has a black hole and a companion star with three planets revolving around it. At some point, other when the black hole formed and material and energy flooded out and hit the planets, or from the x-ray nova outburst that's caused when the gasses from the companion star accumulates around the black hole, materials on two of the three planets were changed chemically and that is where the substance is found."

"He discovered it accidentally piloting a mining carrier when they were attacked by the Rhemish. He barely managed to capture images of the solar system before he escaped in a scout ship. According to him, the place is crawling with Rhemish and there's no way for anyone to get close," Pandora finished.

Michael stood and the other two followed suit. As he was leaving, he ignored the cowering alien and said, "Give him one of our old infiltration programs. It should be enough for him to liquidate himself a small fortune before he's able to get in trouble with it."

As they exited the bar, Pandora touched his shoulder mumbled, "I'm sorry, master. I did not think you would give me up, but I didn't think it was my place to make that decision-"

Michael reached out and grabbed her, bringing her close to him forcefully. "Damnit, Pan! Don't make me order you to help yourself. I don't want you to just sit there and take it. I don't care if it was just a ploy to get him to talk, I will never toy with the idea of sharing you, let alone losing you," he stated harshly. Her eyes widened at the intensity of his voice, then her eyes softened and she surprised herself by daring to initiate a kiss. Kat smiled and hugged her sister.

The trio began walking in the direction they'd seen the 'strip club.' Marcus commed and told them that they were almost finished exploring the market. Their contact had been a bust. It turns out the business was a big chain that sold a variety of goods and services and for a small (outrageous) fee you could use them to advertise a bounty for what you were looking for. Michael gave an amused snort at the economic similarities the galactic community had with Earth and filled his general in on the progress they'd made.

As they were walking past an establishment, an alien with three legs and four arms wearing a brightly-colored spacesuit exclaimed in Standard while admiring Pandora, "Very beautiful! Sir, how much? I give you great price for the both of them. What d'ya say? Sir... Hey!" Seeing they were ignoring him, he reached out a chubby hand to grab hold of Pandora. The android's right arm seemed to flicker slightly and the reaching arm was swiftly removed at the elbow.

Michael winced at the bloodcurdling scream that was released from the now-kneeling alien. Green blood spurted across the deck as he writhed back and forth trying to stem the flow. Kat ignored the display and bounced over to Pandora in childlike interest. "Wow," she commented in an impressed voice. "That looked like an invisible retractable beam blade. You must have developed that from the plasma cutters the Brotherhood used."

While they chatted away, Michael caught an image through the open doorway and froze. Kat noticed immediately and stopped to follow his gaze. She immediately commed Marcus as Michael started inside, telling the man to take his team and secure the customs checkpoint and to begin deploying the troops. They were invading. Pandora hacked into the Station Master's room on the upper levels and told him that they were taking over for a time and if he wanted to save the lives of his people he should order them to stay out of their way.

Michael walked through the entranceway as if in a daze. He ignored the alien that only came up to his waist pestering him that he had to pay a fee to view the merchandise. Michael advanced through the crowd of sweaty and inebriated aliens sitting at the viewing tables and approached the ravenous crowd of betters fighting for the sale of the present auction.

He felt his skin crawl as he observed the long line of slaves waiting to be sold off behind the present bid. His eyes were focused on the one at the center of the stage though, held roughly by the auctioneer. She was petite, afraid, and helpless in her chains and shock collar. The Felician was about Tanya's age. Her brilliant blue fur was matted, her light shift torn. She had various self-defense wounds and whip marks, most that didn't look like they'd been treated properly, if at all. He could tell she had fought before she was taken, but the dulled light of her eyes told him she'd almost given up hope.

One of the aliens in the throng that wrapped around the stage cried out in Standard, "Why do you set the starting bids so high? Half your merchandise is damaged before we even get it." Shouts of angry agreement were hurled from the crowd, but he could see the looks of hunger in their eyes.

The greasy alien directing the show chuckled nervously and beseeched them, "Come now, come now. This one is quite exotic. A passing trader was able to smuggle her off her home planet --and we all know that's quite a feat given the current state of that region. While she didn't get the life of freedom she'd been hoping for, you all now have a chance at a one-of-a-kind possession. The... damage is merely part of the cost of attaining this feisty ornament.

"At least throw in the cost of removing those fangs," another in the crowd yelled out, "and the claws, too." The Felician shuddered at that and an appreciate rumble ran through the watching mass.

The auctioneer let out a mock sigh of despair and said, "You wound me. I won't be able to feed my family with such concessions, but if that's what it takes to get her off my hands..." Cries of hearty amusement and disgusted proclamations of what they thought of his nonexistent family went up, but there was a renewed sense of seriousness and eagerness that settled over the bidders. They knew that it was time to get down to business. At the viewing tables, bets exchanged hands on who they thought would win the prize.