Volatile Cargo - Original Sci-fi, A short story of some length Options

[Colonel Mustard]

This is (yet another, I know) a new project I'm starting to keep my writing hand in while I go about editing my novel into something fit to submit to an agent (for those who missed it, I completed a novel! Hurrah!). I'm writing partly because I want to write something while I edit, and also because I quite enjoy the novel's characters and want to write some more of them. So what this is is a prequel of sorts about Captain Julia Marthan and the crew of her ship, the Marco, detailing a week(ish) in their lives and one of the jobs they've run; I won't be touching on any of the major content of the novel, though they share the same characters and universe.

I'll be posting up brief chapters as rapidly as I can, so sit back and please enjoy.


Volatile Cargo

Chapter 1

As always, Blight was misty. White water vapour choked the world, floating moisture shrouding its single, damp colony of the hopelessly optimistic name of ‘Prospect’, a viscous airborne mucous of chill, low cloud loitering on the jetty of its dock. It got everywhere, soaking into clothes, caressing the skin with clammy tendrils, perspiration dripping into the eye even though the temperature left one with no inclination towards sweating.

“I hate this place,” Julia muttered, more to herself than anyone else. She flicked worthless jewels of moisture off the dark blue naval jacket she wore. The damp was making the already battered brocade on the smuggler’s coat look even worse for wear, and had soaked into the tricorn her she wore as well, a severe undermining of her attempt to look swashbuckling; as it was she merely looked wrung out. “Of all the worlds I’ve ever visited, it has to be the worst, no contest.”

“What about Zwarget, captain?” Yun asked. Unlike Julia, he seemed not to be bothered by the mist or the damp, his stance easy and relaxed with the long duster he wore seemed to keep out the worst of the weather. A hand rested on one of the revolvers on the gunbelt he wore, and the barrel of a carbine poked out from over his shoulder. From experience, Julia knew that there would be a pair of sawn-off shotguns at his up, covered by the coat, a knife at his boot and probably a holdout pistol or two tucked in some concealed pocket of the mercenary’s jacket.

“Nah, Zwarget just tried to kill us,” Julia said. “This place is depressing, thought.”

“So you prefer a homicidal planet to a dreary one?”

“Yeah. Homicidal’s more interesting, if nothing else.”

Yun just shook his head and scanned what they could see of the jetty for any approaching company. Behind them, the starship they came in on hovered, the Marco tethered to the large wooden pier with its cargo bay door resting on the flat surface. The large glass dome of the vessel’s prow and bridge was misted and slick with damp, as was the rest of the ship’s brass-coloured hull, the swallowtail sweep of its wings dripping with water as if the vessel itself were discomfited and sweating. The large zeppelin balloon that kept it suspended in midair sent the ropes connecting it to the ship creaking as a faint breeze blew into it and nudged it a few inches along.

“You’d have no idea that there’s a whole bloody colony at the end of that pier, not with all this mist,” Julia remarked.

“I don’t like it,” Yun said. “Makes things too quiet, too easy to hide in. Could be anybody out there watching us and we’d have no idea.”

“So you’re feeling edgy,” Julia nodded. “Nothing new there.”

“There is no need for alarm,” a third voice rumbled, this one coming from the fifteen foot, four-armed colossus of steel and brass that had stood behind the pair without speaking. “My sensors detect no untoward activity in the area around us.”

“In mist this thick, I wouldn’t like to rely on just sensors, Dravvit Klomar,” Yun replied. “Besides, they’re not infallible.”

“Pah, you doubt too easily, Mr Yun,” the immense Machtoro said. “Besides, captain, I can see someone coming on heat vision; two humans and khusi.”

A few moments later, four people emerged from the mist. Three of them were human; two bulky men lugging a crate between them, one tall, graceful and pale-skinned woman. The last was a khusi, carrying almost as many guns as Yun had, though it had enough arms to use them all at once, and its mandibles twitches as the multifaceted domes of its eyes looked them over. By the lack of egg-sacs clinging to its abdomen, Julia guessed the alien was still in the male phase of his life.

“So much for your sensors,” Yun muttered.

“Julia!” the woman at their front exclaimed in delight, stepping forward and grabbing her in an embrace. She placed a kiss on each of the captain’s cheeks. “How are you, my darling? And Mr Yun and your Machtoro are with you as well, how wonderful.”

Dravvit Klomar scraped the metal hoof of his foot along the jetty in displeasure at being called Julia’s, but Madam Sangue ignored the gesture. Yun merely nodded a greeting to her, knowing that any talking would be best left to his captain.

“I’m well,” Julia nodded. “Wondering how you put up with this world.”

“Oh, a number of reasons,” the new arrival replied. “It’s near some favourable Inverse currents, the League doesn’t hold any authority here and there’s a great deal of degenerates and curs here for me to employ. That and the lack of sunlight certainly helps.”

“Eh, suit yourself,” Julia said. “So, what did you want to see me about, Madam Sangue?”

“A delivery I want you to make,” she replied, gesturing to the crate. “I need you to bring this to a gentleman by the name of Mr Aloysius Cranmer in New Olympus. I don’t want it going through customs, and I don’t want the crate to be opened, tampered with or have its contents damaged.”

“A delivery to Mars, eh? Sounds simple enough,” Julia said as Madam Sangue’s two human lackeys advanced and placed the crate down on the damp planks of the dock. There was a whirring and thumping as Dravvit Klomar stepped forwards and picked it up with the lower pair of his hands, the huge machine lifting the load with ease. “Dravvit Klomar, get that aboard, stow it somewhere where it won’t be found easily.”

“It should be easy,” Madam Sangue replied. “But this is important, Julia, and I don’t want you failing this, not with the amount of money running on this job. After all, if you do...” she looped an amicable arm around the smuggler’s shoulders. “I’ll cut your throat and drain you dry, and that would be a terrible shame.”

“No pressure then,” Julia said. “I’m going to need more details than a name in New Olympus, though.”

“Of course, of course,” Madam Sangue nodded, handing Julia an envelope. “Everything you should need is in here. Read it carefully, Julia.”

“Don’t worry, I will,” the Marco’s captain replied. “One last question; what’s this job worth to me and my crew.”

“Provided all goes well, three thousand Sovereigns,” Madam Sangue said.

“Three thousand?!”

“I take it that that will be suitable motivation?”

“Gods, yes.”

“Wonderful. Remember, Julia,” Madam Sangue smiled, and her smile was a smile of frightening needles. “Don’t let me down. Everyone would be very upset if that happened, you most of all.”

“Trust me, I know,” Julia said.

“Just making sure, my darling, just making sure,” Madam Sangue said. “Now, there are three thousand Sovereigns waiting on that delivery, and perhaps a bonus if you make it quick, so why don’t you head off on your way, hmm?”

She kissed Julia on the cheeks once more.

“Best of luck, Julia, and do try your hardest to make sure you’re successful,” she said. “I’d hate it so very much if I had to kill you.”

“Not half as much as I would, trust me,” Julia said.

Madam Sangue laughed at this.

“I’m sure of that, darling,” she replied. “Now off you go.”

As Julia boarded her ship, Yun lingering a moment to untether the Marco from its dock, Madam Sangue left, accompanied by her henchmen into the mists and back to the colony that formed the capital of her galaxy-spanning criminal empire. The ship’s cargo door whirred shut, and its engines flared as it began to rise upwards and out of Blight’s atmosphere.

The Marco was on its way to Mars.

[Colonel Mustard]

HER: Thanks very much!

Cheers for pointing out the nit, I'll go and fix that now, and I'll honestly admit that the whole 'Bones' thing hadn't occurred to me. I'm going to have to slip that in somewhere now

Grit: Set your phasers to FUS RO DAH!


Chapter 5

“Three of them, all in marvellous condition,” Hirstoff said. “Ready to hatch as soon as the conditions are right. Something worth snubbing dear Wilhemina for, even without my own reasons for doing it. How much were you being paid to deliver these, then, Captain?”

“Three thousand Sovereigns,” Julia said. “I should have asked for thirty. Or not done this damn job.”

“Yes, I’m sure you’re regretting all of this in hindsight,” Hirstoff replied. “Rest assured that this is nothing personal.”

“Oh, that’s fine then,” Julia said. “You’re completely forgiven.”

“You know, for someone whose chances of survival lie solely in keeping me appeased, you seem to be trying very hard to irritate me,” Hirstoff said.

“Guess I don’t appreciate guns being pointed at me while you act nice,” Julia shot back.

“Well fine,” Hirstoff said. He replaced the egg and snapped the lid shut. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter, after all. Your askriit and the Machtoro can stay here, you and your crewmate will accompany me-” Julia snorted at ‘accompany’ and Hirstoff glared. “Will accompany me back to the airlock, and then we will leave. After that, you will be so good as to inform Madame Sangue of what happened and who did it.”

He nodded to two of his pirates, and the pair of the stepped forwards and took the box.

“You realise that she’ll kill us, you know,” Julia said as they made their way back to the airlock. Ivris and Dravvit Klomar glared after them in impotent fury.

“Oh, really? My word, captain, look at how all of that isn’t my problem. Astounding, isn’t it?”

“As soon as I get the chance I’m slamming a stake through your heart and then I’m venting you into a star,” Julia glowered.

“Julia,” Farko said, glancing at her with a warning look in his eyes.

“Listen to your friend, captain,” Hirstoff said. “I’d recommend that you don’t push me too far; you live only on my sufferance.”

Julia grimaced, but said nothing as they reached the airlock. The two pirates carrying the crate were first through, and one by one the boarders left, weapons still trained on Farko and Julia. Hirstoff was last to go, still grinning at them as the door swung shut.

As soon as she was gone, Julia swore. She spat out every single profane term she knew in Earthsperanto, all that she had from her limited vocabulary of Askriitacht, those khusi curses that her vocal cords could actually enunciate and the q’relli cusses which didn’t require her changing the colour of her skin or emitting pheromones. Finally, she kicked the airlock door, and cursed once again as she grabbed at the toe of her boot.

“You got all that out your system?” Farko asked.

“Yeah,” Julia said. “Gods, that smug, arrogant bastard! I just wanted to jam my thumbs into his eyes and see the condescending little arse squirm!”

“I think you made that plenty clear.”

“Gods, I’m sorry,” Julia groaned, leaning against the wall and sliding to the floor. “He just made me so angry.”

Farko sat down next to her, sliding his hand into hers and giving it a squeeze.

“So, what now?”

“Do you think we might get away with it if we ran straight away?”

“Doubt it,” Farko said. “This is Madam Sangue we’re talking about. She’d find us sooner or later.”

“We could make a break for Andromeda,” Julia said. “Long-distance run, that sort thing. She can’t catch us in another galaxy.”

“She won’t be able to catch us because any ship that gets out of the galaxy’s gravity well is eaten by Inverse Wyrms,” Farko pointed out.

“The yarika manage it.”

“Yeah, but I doubt they’re going to share that secret any time soon.”

“True. Besides, they’re weird, creep me out. So that’s that plan off the books. Any other bright ideas?”

“We could just tell Madam Sangue,” Farko suggested.

“What? So she can shoot us for losing her dragon eggs and however many millions of Sovereigns they’re worth?” Julia asked.

“Look, if this Hirstoff person is as big a player as he says he is, then Sangue will be too worried about him to think about raking us over the coals,” Farko said. “Besides, this entire thing didn’t feel right.”

“We’re going to get killed by a pissed-off vampire. Nothing about that at all fits the definition of ‘right’.”

“What I mean is, how come Hirstoff knew that the Marco was going to emerge where it was?”

“Popular smuggler spot, not often patrolled. Just wait here, intercept some poor bastard and take their stuff. Clever little operation.”

“And how come he knew to wait for just this moment to arrive, to look specifically for the Marco and that we were carrying those eggs,” Farko said. “It seems to me that Hirstoff was tipped off about this job before we even set off.”

“Of course!” Julia said, grinning. “Farko, you are a bloody genius! And if she’s got someone on the inside who stabbed us in the back, then she’s less likely to want to kill us if we do her a favour and let her know that there’s a mole in her organisation.”

Her smile faded a little.

“Less likely,” she added. “Still, I suppose it’s our best shot.”

“We’re going to have to gamble on it,” Farko said. “But there’s no way we can take Hirstoff on our own.”

“That hadn’t occurred to me,” Julia said, mulling it over. “I mean, we do have Dravvit Klomar and Mr Yun with us, maybe we can-”

“No.”

“I was just saying.”

“No. That’s a bloody insane idea.”

Julia shook her head.

“So we’re gambling on the kindness of Madam Sangue instead,” she said. “Fantastic. I guess it’s slightly better than us trying to take on a whole load of pirates.”

“What do we tell the crew?” Farko asked. “Mr Yun probably wants to know why he wasn’t warned about Hirstoff and his lot.”

“Suppose he will,” Julia said. “Though in retrospect, I’m glad he wasn’t there; he’s a one-man army, sure, but I doubt even he’d be able to fight through all of Hirstoff’s lot. And knowing him, he’d put up a fight.”

“He does have that paradox revolver,” Farko pointed out.

“Yeah, but Hirstoff had that sword of his,” Julia said. “Something about that weapon just didn’t feel right and I don’t know if a paradox revolver would be enough to stop it.”

She pushed herself to her feet and sighed.

“Right, let’s go have a word with the crew,” she said. “See what was can salvage of this godsdamned mess.”