SWNOVELS Chapter Hoard of criminals
“Eight million, that’s my price!” a Davoc dealer rumbled loudly, and he had to be. A crowd of interested and jumbled buyers bustled in front of his cheap, wooden stage, but it was not for that that the customers queued. They were interested in the considerable battery of rockets the merchant was offering for sale and whose versatility he was touting . “This weapon is not just made to attack or repel, oh no! Such a weapon gives you authority and can decide a fight without having to be fought!”
No one here was a regular shopper or the nice next door neighbour. Almost everyone shouted out robbers, mercenaries or warmongers with their get-up alone. “I’ll give you four million!” shouted a Talin from the crowd.
The merchant wanted to haggle over that. “Only if you become my personal slave afterwards and bring at least three other delightful ladies with you!”
“No way, you hairy filthy beast!”
“Then we have no deal!” said the Davoc, waving his hand wildly. Such batteries were normally found on cruisers or battleships and he knew how to play that off. “We’re talking about a CT 32! That means thirty-two warheads ready to fire, with whose firepower you can devastate an entire city and that’s not all! Thanks to the integrated energy converter, the missiles are covered with a regulating particle bubble and that means they are not only conditionally protected against attacks, but slip through most shields without any problems!
That brought life to the auction. “Six million!” bid a one-eyed Hishek, surrounded by a dozen of his kind and they were all clearly under him.
“Six million?!” the Davoc got artificially excited. “Six million is what Scarface wants to give me! A good start, but I want no less than seven and a half million! Who will bid me that?!”
A galig raised the previous bidder’s price. “6,4!”
“Bid 6.4 and I want 7.4!”
“And I’ll go up to 6.7!” a visibly aged person bid, triggering an avalanche of prices.
“6,8!”
“6,9!”
“7,1!”
“7.25!” a Calanian blubbered. “The battery is mine!” Such a sentence was all that was needed, for it inflamed the mood even more and a wild tumult arose among the bidders, but the trader on the stage was more pleased than frightened, and he literally rubbed his hands together.
He was not the only one, however, for the market was not limited to the rocket battery and stretched for an immense distance, surrounded by narrow canyon walls. Everything the heart desired was for sale here and the foreign currency flowed in streams. Especially goods that you wouldn’t find in any normal shop, like drugs, slaves or heavy war machines, were the focus of the customers and those who had the foreign currency could buy without restraint. There were hardly any rules or laws.
That’s why even an indolent Eporanian could sell his guardian bots in the middle of the street, which normally required a licence - both to sell and own. “They are used, but their condition is almost like new!” he promised wholeheartedly. “A brand new guard costs 100,000 foreign currency, but with me you only pay 90,000! Buy five in one go and you’ll get another 10,000 foreign currency discount for each machine, which means you’d only spend 400,000! Get them from me individually and you’ll pay 450,000 for the same number or 500,000 fresh from the factory, but why would you do that?! Better strike and secure my bulk discount!”
Trade, trade and more trade! This was the Sleepless Counting House as they called it and as her alter ego Nora Faith, Kysaek stood in the middle of it. She looked down from a high bend into a lane where a dozen hoodlums were currently facing each other and all of them had their fingers or other extremities already on their gun belts, ready to attack at any moment, but she knew that was normal here. She had heard enough stories and Tavis had confirmed most of them. It was hot all the time, but not only because of things like that, because there was a decent heat in the canyons. Thirty degrees was the standard and made Kysaek feel uncomfortable and exhausted. Now she wished she were a Hishek or a Palanian. Then these temperatures would be mild for her and even at double that, it would only start to get nice and warm.
“Seen anything interesting yet?” asked Tavis, who came up beside Kysaek and also looked down.
He still didn’t know who Kysaek, Thais and the others really were. “This is my first visit here. Apart from the heat, I should be looking more for uninteresting things, but I don’t see them.”
“Better not look for them. Uninteresting can quickly become a trap here.”
The corners of Kysaek’s mouth twitched. “I’ll make a note of it. Has Pashalia contacted you yet?”
“She has rented the room,” Tavis replied. Thai’s job was to get a room in a small but centrally located hotel in this area, which the Palanian had deemed trustworthy - if hush money was paid.
“And did you have any ideas in the meantime?”
“I’m still thinking. We know what we’re looking for. Only the where, remains unsettled.”
“You’ve had plenty of time on the flight here,” Kysaek commented. Caution was still in order for them, which was why Thais should ask around for Tavis during their hotel assignment. It was a good opportunity for the Talin, without the Palanian, Kysaek inquired. “Is that so hard?”
“One yes, the other no,” Tavis replied as he surveyed the sleepless Counting House and gripped the railing in front of him. “Finding out who’s organising these transports should be an easy one. But with the list we have no clue where the mass of slaves are being distributed here before they are transported on.”
“If we know who’s doing all this, couldn’t we just grab another list?”
“This isn’t a cheap port on Central where just a few thugs are our worry,” Tavis admonished, tightening his grip on the railing. “If we do the same here, someone is sure to get suspicious very quickly and hunt us down and find us. We need to be extremely cautious about our next moves.”
“I guess that’s a good point,” Kysaek reluctantly admitted. A quick fix probably wouldn’t present itself to her, but after running and hiding all the time, she was eager for some real success. “Let’s meet with Pashalia. If we want to find out who’s behind the transports, we should do it together.”
“We definitely should.”
Even cloaked and with a connoisseur like Tavis at her side, Kysaek had a healthy dose of respect for Themis. Threats were not uncommon, as were the occasional gunshots, and from what felt like every other bar, she heard the sounds of a brawl, or saw patrons heading for the entrance in a brawl, when a bouncer wasn’t throwing out a drunk or unwanted patron and giving them another good kicking. However, that was certainly only one side of what this world had to offer and despite the rough environment, Kysaek enjoyed the atmosphere in places. If one disregarded the flourishing trade and the pronounced gambling in the dense canyons, alcohol also flowed in streams, there was laughter in the crowd and the light girls glamoured people, often even very open-hearted and revealing.
“And this is everyday life?” asked Kysaek, simply unable to stop looking around. “Every day? Every hour?”
“The market isn’t called the sleepless Counting House for nothing,” Tavis underlined with a claw in the air. “It never rests and the lights always shine bright.”
For Kysaek, radiant was almost the wrong word, for she had already seen the shining lights of the canyons clearly from space. Like rivers of gold, the fine, animated scars stretched across a vast area of this barren world. “It’s hard to believe what has been created here,” Kysaek commented, as the many canyons were not a natural creation.
Themis had been discovered over a thousand years ago, and it wasn’t long before it was discovered that the planet was a bulging chamber of minerals - a veritable gold mine, the likes of which were not found every day in the galaxy. These were resources, especially rare and rarer ones in masses, that were in high demand in modern space travel and by interstellar civilisations, and so the term overexploitation took on a whole new meaning with Themis. The irony was that no consideration had to be given to the environment, as the planet offered a hostile environment. It was a lifeless desert of rusty stone, without the slightest sign of water, plants or air to breathe, and the local sun did the rest. It was in fact in the final cycle of its existence and was on its way to becoming a red giant, which meant that the surface temperatures on Themis were hot as hell and the night phase lasted only three hours as the sun was almost continuously in the sky due to its inconceivable volume. However, the governments and especially private companies had put up with these adversities, given the indecent profits and quantities of resources, until after two hundred and fifty years the most productive areas of Themis had been completely plundered and further mining was no longer worthwhile for most, compared to their immense costs. Only a few, insignificant mining companies lingered on Themis, to this day, as there were still enough small deposits, but the important names disappeared immediately, leaving behind not only the dug gullies. An unused, heavy industry stood idle and within the mining scars the infrastructures, such as housing and all kinds of consumer facilities, that the companies had originally built for the needs of their workers, were orphaned, as was a veritable network of underground tunnels, chambers and magnetic railways. No one wanted to live there anymore or had any use for Themis, with one exception: pirates and smugglers. They made the neglected world and its legacies their own in a few years and although today no one knew how and who exactly had started it all, it was the foundation stone for the present Themis and the emergence of the so-called Maw, the most extensive spot on the galactic map where the criminals were in charge.
What were the chances of meeting someone like Tavis who knew his way around? Who was in his element? But maybe it was just time for a bit of luck, or maybe it was because of the paths Kysaek and her group had taken. An inevitable run-in? “Pay close attention here.” ,Tavis remarked as they made their way from the sleepless Counting House into one of the underground, well-constructed tunnels, where the Palanian was careful to keep his volume down. “If you take a wrong turn here, it could quickly prove fatal.”
“Come on,” Kysaek said, slightly arrogantly. She was no more or less scared than before, but she matched the tone. “I suppose you’d have to tell me what I can safely do here rather than keep pointing out this threat and that threat. It’s a bit annoying.”
“I take my job very seriously and safely .... mh, safely ...no, sorry. There’s no such thing on Themis.”
“And what about the tunnels?” asked Kysaek, disregarding the fact that dwellings were worked into the stone. “Is it about the fact that someone could rob us here at any time?”
“That could be.”
“Great,” Kysaek sighed sarcastically, still venturing the dubious hope that she wasn’t doomed to be in such holes all the time. “How can such a chaotic place be hold together?”
“Many areas on Themis are divided and controlled by different groups and they all defer to one Eporanian - Ilia Volon.”
“She is well known,” Kysaek nodded. “And who does she have under her command? Who bows to her here?”
“Let’s take the Disciples of Dealith.”
This mention came as a surprise to Kysaek and almost made her drop out of character. “The Disciples are here?”
“The Disciples operate all over the galaxy and you wonder why they’re on Themis? There’s no end of missions here.”
“And do we have to worry about the Disciples?”
“I don’t want to bug you again, but we should-”
“Everything, already understood,” Kysaek smirked. “You’re only too happy to repeat that, aren’t you?”
“What can I say,” Tavis replied with satisfaction. “It’s my trade and I’m good at it. Besides, I want to keep this little thing called life and at the moment that includes bringing you and Pashalia through here too, so I guess I’ll be endlessly annoying.”
“At least you’re getting it across without coming across as a smartass.”
“How flattering.”
“My speciality, but tell me, what makes Ilia so powerful that she has a grip on Themis?”
Tavis replied matter-of-factly. “If you’ve heard a story or two about Ilia, you know what she can do, and that’s only half the truth. No one knows for sure, but rumour has it that Ilia is close to four thousand years old and she made a name for herself before the Maw was created and a name alone can be powerful. It doesn’t take hordes of thugs or weapons.”
“But neither is useless and I don’t think Ilia can do without henchmen.”
“She doesn’t depend on the loyalty of outside groups because she controls two of the largest mercenary organisations in the galaxy, besides her own henchmen.”
This was definitely new knowledge to Kysaek and made it all more plausible to her. “A proper mercenary army, that would be something for us,” she joked as Thais appeared.
“How did it go?” the Talin asked, for she wasn’t the only one who was supposed to be doing something.
Kysaek had not merely dawdled with Tavis, but had run a few errands in the sleepless Counting House and they had got everything. “Fine. The equipment will be deposited not far from our hotel.”
“And all that technology is actually necessary?” inquired Thais. “A little more firepower seems rather appropriate here.”
Tavis was firm in his conviction. “We’re not here to start a war and force will only help us to a limited extent and then probably draw unnecessary attention to ourselves. Aids to deciphering code locks and kits are more important than weapons. We should only use them and explosives if we really have to.”
Kysaek felt the same way. This was not a brute force mission, but a secret one. “We have enough to fight back if it comes to the extreme.”
“We do,” Thais nodded. A cloth tied around her covered her mouth, for camouflage, but it lifted. A sign that she was grinning. “More firepower never goes amiss, though.”
“Is that the wisdom of a Hishek or Davoc?” doubted Tavis, trying to gain an appreciation. “Since when have Talin been so fixated on combat?”
“Since I fought in the greatest of all wars.”
“Ah yes, the old days,” Tavis understood, with some humour. “I’m sure it was a wise philosophy at the time, but keep an open mind and rather do as the young Palanian before you, who didn’t live through those times.”
Thais tapped her pistol holster. “As long as the young Palanian in front of me shows results, I could put aside my old way of thinking.”
Kysaek shook her head in amusement, but this was no place for small talk “Let’s better talk about everything else back at the hotel.”
“We probably should,” Thais replied. “And there are nice soft beds there.”
“Yeah,“,Tavis raised a claw. “Let’s say beds.”
Thais went ahead, already knowing the way to the hotel, but the further e went into the tunnels and smaller and larger chambers, the more care was needed. It was confusing in places and a perilous atmosphere took over where before there had been the glistening and bustling atmosphere of the sleepless Counting House. Obviously, gangs or mercenaries presented themselves here and there, keeping an eye on who was walking around or trying to enter their territory. Drug sellers transacted their business as a usual day’s work and they passed their wares to a wide clientele, from respectable consumers to down-and-out addicts.
“Don’t look at anyone,” Tavis said. “Look straight ahead and keep walking.”
The Palanian didn’t have to tell Kysaek twice. “I have no interest in looking straight at anyone here.”
“Wait and see.”
At the end of a living chamber, a desperate and shaky Davoc found himself surrounded by dodgy individuals, to whom he held out a cheap magnetic pistol. “You won’t get one more motto from me!” he nagged, swallowing hopelessly. “Your boss screwed me and I’m tired of paying his exorbitant interest! I can’t make ends meet anymore and I’ve paid back all my debts twice! Enough!”
None of the figures around the Davoc flinched from him or his drawn gun. They were even amused by it, holding their own much better magnet and plasma rifles loosely and with their muzzles lowered. “Are you trying to scare us?” asked the only female Galig in the group.
“No! I just want this to stop!”
“I’ll have to disappoint you on that - it won’t and we’ll get our foreign currency.”
Another blackmail and it stirred fresh feelings in Kysaek, which she still had from Vincent Luan’s gang. She wasn’t going to just sit idly by and let these hoodlums get their hands on the Davoc.
“Don’t look!” murmured Tavis softly, grabbing Kysaek’s arm like a child not to be let out of sight in the big, wide world. “Don’t interfere!” The Palanian was about a head taller than Kysaek in normal stance, but not an overly powerful representative of his kind, and yet his grip was enough to restrain her without it being too noticeable. Besides, Tavis crowded in beside Kysaek in such a way that her field of vision to what was happening was impaired.
“I’ll say it again!” the Davoc gulped, aiming his pistol randomly and shakily. “You will get nothing more from me! I’d rather die than let you continue to exploit me! Leave me alone, you cheap Stree-” Suddenly a bullet pierced the side of the man’s head.
A Calanian criminal had shot him from a blind spot and after the debtor lay on the ground, the Galig scoffed in the round. “We can get by with that. We will then repeat the foreign currency from your family.” All she had to do was wave her hand and the group retreated, while the Davoc’s extremely dark red blood quickly lined the path and no resident cared that the man was lying there like a pile of rubbish, let alone that he had been killed.
“You can let go of me again, Dad!” said Kysaek ill-temperedly, wrenching her arm free from his grip.
So far Tavis did not seem like a cold-hearted man, but that just now raised the suspicion or he was simply used to it. “I know what you were up to,” the Palanian replied dryly. “However, we have enough to do, so put your principles aside.”
“Listen to him,” Thais added. “We’re not here to help people, we’re here to help ourselves.”
There was nothing Kysaek could do about it anyway, and she tried to catch herself. “For now ...” she gritted. It was unclear to her, however, whether she could look away from Themis all the time when it came to things like this.
“You seem instinct-driven and impulsive to me,” Tavis said frankly. That did not make him happy. “Does this happen all the time? This urge to do heroic deeds?”
“What’s that got to do with heroic?” retorted Kysaek, aggrieved. “In what normal galaxy, do people just stand by and watch this kind of thing?”
“You clearly need to relearn your definition of normal,” Tavis opined, suddenly sounding like Thais did then. He was merely less philosophical. “There are no uniform rules, no absolute morals. I despise unnecessary violence and nefarious depravity, but one must also think of one’s own life, as this Davoc just did. He may be dead now, but he thought of himself and defended himself. It was not for us to save him. Neither was it up to us, nor could we have done it.”
“Sounds a bit like an excuse to me,” Kysaek replied, looking around. One thing puzzled her. “How was he supposed to survive anyway? Surely anyone who is not a criminal has no foreign currency here?”
“On the contrary,” Tavis remarked elegantly. “Criminals can live quite well here, but ordinary people and honest work have their place even on Themis.”
“There is honest work here? Apart from the Miners?”
“Seekers, transporters, technicians, food vendors and whatever else a world needs. I won’t say that ordinary work makes up the majority and it’s not the best infrastructure, but a maglev doesn’t run on goodwill and rotten rails, any more than sewage runs through leaky pipes and electricity doesn’t just bubble out of a generator.”
“Let me guess,” Kysaek guessed, rubbing her thumb against her index and middle fingers. “Even though people like this keep everything running, they still have to cede their share to the criminals?”
“It doesn’t matter how you make your foreign currency here - everyone has to pay someone, somehow, somewhere and this is especially true of ordinary people. Often they have to give away a good half of their income spread over several places.”
“Quite a mess.”
“Why do you say that? What’s so bad about it?”
As much as Kysaek appreciated Tavis’ knowledge and talents, and kept in mind that he was a criminal, she didn’t find the Palanian`s belittling of him all that titillating. “Are you kidding me! People keep everything going and get robbed in return?! What do you call that, please?!”
Tavis’ reply was short and incisive. “Taxes,” came tersely from him. “I’m sure there are many words for it on Themis, but elsewhere you pay taxes. Taxes, taxes and taxes again.” With this statement he managed what few had managed before -he left Kysaek speechless for the moment.
Private guards, armed security bots, automatic defence systems and the obligation to hand over all weapons on entry: This was the hotel they had booked. Contrary to what it looked like from the outside, it was even somewhat acceptable. It was not a holiday resort, but there was no sign of trouble here. Handing in the weapons at the entrance was an additional guarantee for some peace and at the same time a risk.
Kysaek in particular felt at the mercy of her empty weapons belt after all that time on the run, but there was no way to outsmart the scanner at the entrance desk and she was reassured by the fact that she could still fall back on her prismatics in an emergency. Otherwise, she continued to be amazed by the solid condition of the hotel, which, in the face of Themis, she had expected to be more of a flophouse for drug addicts.
“I need to sit down,” Thais sighed exhaustedly when it was finally time to go into the room, where she dropped onto the sofa there.
The Talin’s condition reminded Kysaek of the situation at the parcel warehouse, only now it was less extreme and she wasn’t worried. “How exactly do we go on from here? We keep racking our brains and can’t come to a solution.”
“A break might do us good,” Thais recommended, rubbing through her now no longer covered face. “All this stress and pressure all the time. A little more rest might clear our minds and bring fresh ideas. Besides, I have a huge thirst. This heat is drying me out and not good for my skin.”
Tavis put his bag down on a metal dresser. “A strong woman like you worries about such trivialities?”
“Sure, to keep everything nice and smooth,” Thais smirked slyly. She stretched out her arms and fingers and the following went to the Palanian. “I like to feel everything when I’m beating someone up.”
“I forgot,” Tavis said, walking over to a small fridge that was even stocked with drinks. A puff of cold air gushed from the container and he took out a clear misted bottle of water, which he brought to the thirsty Talin. “Mammals have other problems. With us Palanians, our shell is more of a tool and practical in nature.”
“Barely saved it,” Thais replied, accepting the misted bottle with a grateful nod.
“What would you have been more understanding of?” asked Kysaek straightforwardly, sitting down on one of two beds in the room. “Teeth?”
“Claws,” Tavis replied.
“Claws?”
“Oh, yes. Palanian women’s claws can’t be thin and long enough. Men should have thick ones, of course, but above all, cleanliness is very important,” Tavis remarked fastidiously and showed his claws: sharp, rough and strong, but shiny.
Kysaek considered and went more for fetishes rather than aesthetics “Some people have it with fingers too, but I don’t understand the appeal of it.”
“You don’t? The beautiful feeling when a woman’s long, delicate claws wrap around your broad fingers like tendrils around hard stone,” Tavis said, as if he were just picturing it. “Well, I don’t think you can understand that. Still, I’ll give you the Palanian views of beauty for once: claws, bone ridges and eyes.”
“I’ll be sure to internalise that,” Kysaek joked, rubbing her slightly wet face as well. Fortunately, the bio-layer over her true appearance was of good quality and defied the heat by letting the sweat from the inside out, just like a normal face.
“So, we’re all exhausted and it’s been a long walk,” Tavis stated, interlocking his claws. “And as the minority of our company, I will occupy the bathroom first.”
“No one’s stopping you,” Kysaek waved off, burying her face between her hands. Her fatigue was genuine, but she used it as an excuse for the Palanian to leave the room.
“But after that, it’s my turn,” Thais volunteered, letting a refreshing gulp of water gurgle down her throat. It looked delightful, as did the press of the cold bottle against her cheek.
After Tavis had disappeared into the bathroom and the electronic door to the room got a red lock, Kysaek pushed her way to the bottom of the bed. “So, have you heard anything about him?” she asked quietly.
Thais closed her eyes and spoke more guardedly because of her tiredness alone. “Can’t it wait till later? I’m done.”
“Only if you don’t mind a shotgun in the back.”
“Don’t ask for details though,” Thais groaned. She kept her eyes closed and drank from her water now and then. “If there was anything to worry about, I certainly wouldn’t have walked all the way here with him.”
“So everything is true? Is he what he claims to be?”
“Not that he’s the most well-known outlaw of the Maw, but if anyone knew him or had heard of him, they all spoke of him in pretty similar terms,” Thais reported, grinning as she lifted her legs relaxing over the sofa back. “Some people aren’t too keen on Tavis and his rules, but that’s more in his favour than against him. I think we’ve got a good hit on our hands.”
“That would be something,” Kysaek agreed, adopting a thoughtful pose. “That doesn’t mean it’s good with him in the long run, though. We still need to remain cautious.”
“Above all, we need to rest,” Thais waved it off. All that remained of the cold water from the bottle was the steamed-up glass, with Talin’s fingerprints on it. “At least we’re certainly not going to have a for or against us situation with him in the next few hours, so shake off those thoughts and relax.”
“Mhh, that might even work,” Kysaek nodded, running her hand over the bedclothes with a grin. “It’s comfortable and looks so tempting ... But not until after my shower.”
“Sure, after me,” Thais sighed frugally and quietened down. It was questionable whether she would be awake for her shower.