Valkyrie Reborn, S1 E2

[Esplandia]

“Barbara Bishop?” The voice asked over the hubbub of the market, drowning out the hundreds of different voices calling for their orders.

“Yes?” The woman asked, looking up. She’d been on Lamplight now for six months, one of the first Terranid arrivals on the station. She’d hoped to find work on a mining ship but as of yet there weren’t enough jobs in that sector. So now she was working a produce stall on the stations central market ring.

The man who knew her name was tall with a scraggly beard that hadn’t been trimmed very recently. He was wearing a brown coat, nothing fancy, but it was in better condition than any of her own wardrobe. “I wanted to discuss a job opportunity with you.”

“Do I know you?” she asked. She didn’t have time for timewasters. Though he knew her name meant very little. There were so few Terranids on the station it would be weirder that he didn’t know it.

“We’ve not met before,” he said, pushing closer to the produce counter as a scaly denizen of the station grabbed his order and scurried away. “We do have a mutual friend. Gwynn Segorio.”

She looked at the man more intensely. He was definitely not a time waster. She now noticed he carried himself like an INDF officer, someone who was used to commanding a starship. “And who are you?”

“James Morrison of the Valkyrie…”

“No need to tell me more. I know who you are. It’s the beard that threw me off.” She turned to her employer, an eight eyed insectoid who was busy helping three customers at once. “I’m taking my break,” she told him and then stepped away as he chittered something at her. She didn’t listen.

She followed the captain a few stalls down to a place that sold roasted meats (she dared not consider what kind of meats) and sat at an open table, ordering a drink for herself.

“Make it two,” he said taking a seat across from her. He looked directly at her and she got the feeling that he was sizing her up. It was a similar look to how her former commanding officer had looked at her.

“Have you seen the admiral recently?” she asked.

“Not since Syfax,” he said with an obvious twinge on the planets name. They’d both been there, fighting on the same side. A moment of mutual understanding passed between them.

The waiter brought them their drinks. Captain Morrison sniffed it. He wrinkled his nose in disgust and then downed it in one shot. He grimaced slightly and coughed deep in his throat. She chuckled and downed her own. She’d come to enjoy the rancid concoction.

“What’s this job opportunity?” she asked, after a quick cough from the drink.

He met her gaze once again. “The Valkyrie Reborn finds itself in need of a new second officer. You served under Gwynn for the entirety of the resistance war, and she spoke highly of you. And I heard you were looking for work on a ship.”

“Look Captain…” she paused. “Can I call you James?”

“Call me Valentine. Only my mother called me James.”

“Ok. Valentine. I’m not looking to get involved in any new resistance. One crushing defeat is enough for me and the NTO have had almost a decade to rebuild. Freedom is a lost cause.”

“I’m not involved with any resistance. At least not a military one. I was looking to help set up a Terranid colony out here in Inaius but at the moment I’m just picking up what work I can out here.”

“What kind of work?”

“Honestly, a lot or merc work. Some odd jobs here and there. Some illegal one’s when necessary.”

“Illegal? The captain of the Valkyrie breaking the law?”

“I prefer eating to honor these days.”

She laughed deep and hard. “Okay, yeah, I get that. What’s it pay?”

“Eight percent.”

“She leaned back. “Ten.”

“Merc work isn’t exactly steady work. And I’ve got a ship to keep in working order. Nine.”

“Nine and a half,” she said flatly. She raised her shoulders in defiance.

He nodded. “Nine and a half.”

“I assume there’s a job lined up if you’re gonna cave that quickly?”

He smiled warmly at her. “I see why Gwynn kept you around. Yeah there’s a job. Or, hopefully, this meeting I’m headed to will lead to a job. Either way, I’d made up my mind to hire you before I came here.” He stood up and gave her a casual salute, still smiling at her. “Welcome aboard Commander.”

 

[Esplandia]

The Trivanion was sitting in a heavily cushioned high-back chair. He wore a silver embossed bio-armor waistcoat and the livery of a Tech Baron, but Valentine could see it was of shoddy quality. In fact it looked quite cheap. So he wasn’t a member of the Eidolon Council.

“Gee Odani, Captain,” he offered as a greeting as Valentine and Barbara took a seat across from him. The Trivanion had picked a fancy lounge near the inner residential ring and at this time in the station’s daily cycle the crowd was small. The inhabitants had seen enough Terranids over the last few months to not even look twice and the single Trivanion didn’t stand out from the regular crowd that passed through Lamplight.

“Tchee Homen, Khur-Ban,” Valentine returned the proper response. “I didn’t expect a member of the Tech Barony to be here.”

Khur-Ban held out his upper arms placatively, while spinning his lower ones in tight circles, his way to say the gesture was of no significance. “The Eidolon’s would like you to think you’re a high value asset but truthfully I’m here because the Eschelons are indisposed, what with the recent shakeup.”

“I’m crushed. I thought the council held me in much higher regard,” Valentine said, faking hurt. Valentine also pointedly ignored the morsel of information the Trivanion had dangled in front of him. It was better not to question Trivanion politics too deeply or accept anything they offered for free.

“Ahn-Shur values you greatly, but he is not the entirety of the council.”

“How is he?”

“Leading the faction that calls for sanctions against the Republic. So he is likely fighting off weekly assassination attempts.”

Valentine nodded. He turned to Barbara and gave her a conspiratorial nod. Though he knew this was all foreign to her he had coached her a little in the proper way to handle the Trivanion. To be quiet and watchful, and above all else look like you understand more than was said. She nodded back tersely.

“I suppose this leads me to the obvious question: what can I do for the Trivanion Corporations?” Valentine asked.

“You’re aware of Behk-Torn?”

Valentine allowed a visible grimace of disgust to show on his face. “Intimately,” he said.

“Behk-Torn is trading heavy Trivanion weaponry with the NTO. Now he’s just an intermediary, we don’t know who his supplier is, but they’re not Baktark weapons.”

“Which is why Ahn-Shur didn’t come here personally,” Valentine said, starting to piece things together.

“Correct. He didn’t want it to look like he was trying to sabotage his competition. Nothing Behk-Torn has done has been strictly illegal. He’s not required to disclose his supplier, and until the council agrees on sanctions he’s well within his legal rights to sell to the NTO. But it’s all damned peculiar and has a number of Eidolons suspicious. At least enough to have some outside help look into it. We need to know who’s supplying him and how they were able to make weapons on par with Baktark Corp without us learning of them. Which is where you come in. How do you feel about a little piracy?”

 

[Esplandia]

“What recent shakeups was he referring to?” Barbara asked as they made their way towards the station’s tram system.

Valentine dodged out of the way of a furry beast who came hurtling through the crowd, pursued by two scaly, six legged aliens. “Apparently there was some sort of attempted coup in the council. A number of lesser barons tried to seize power. While it’s mostly been kept quiet, there does seem to be some fighting still going on.”

“And you think this has something to do with this Behk-Torn?”

He shook his head. “Behk-Torn is a different issue altogether,” he answered as they reached the tram. He put two coins in a machine and got two tickets. He passed one to her. “He was secretly providing tactical information to the NTO during the war, and was involved in the assassination of Grand Admiral Winters.”

They showed their ticket to the team master who allowed them to pass. They followed a small crowd as it boarded. “And that makes you okay with piracy?”

“Against trash like Behk-Tor? Yeah.”

Valentine took a seat but Barbara remained standing. She stared down at him. “I’m not sure I’m okay with this. If you’re in this for vengeance, I’m out.”

He returned her gaze and shrugged. “I won’t stop you. I certainly want to make the bastard pay. But do you know what will happen if the NTO acquires a full arsenal of Trivanion weapons?”

She didn’t have an argument in response. “Fair enough.” She sat down next to him. She sighed. “If it had been Gwynn they’d murdered I’d probably want to kill him myself.”

“That we can agree on.”

She shifted in her seat. “One more question before we move ahead on this,” she asked as the tram doors closed, and the next stop was announced. “How do you know Gwynn?”

Valentine laughed. “I married her daughter.” And then the tram wooshed away from the stop.

 

[Esplandia]

Og Novadek looked at the two dozen idiots that had decided to apply for work on the Valkyrie and mentally dismissed over half of them before he even started. Some were Terranids, but most were just lowlifes and criminals from across the galaxy. He needed competent fighters not thugs, but a lot of them hadn’t gotten that memo.

He turned to the ship’s quartermaster, Drel Razstafor, and asked “Any look good?”

The Jerhlambra’s tale twitched as he studied the small crowd. “Yeah, those two in the back. The Terranids. They look like they’re experienced.”

Og looked at the two and studied them. The woman was short, with a robotic arm and she seemed to be more interested in the crowd than in Og or Drel. The man standing next to her was the opposite. He stared directly ahead, returning Og’s gaze, his scarred face hidden a little under his hood. Og agreed with Drel’s assessment.

“Anyone else?”

“The plump whatsit there in the front.”

Drel was referring to an alien that stood head and shoulders below the rest of the crowd. What he lacked in height he made up in girth. His eyes were set wide apart on protrusion sticking out of the side of his head. What Og first noticed about him was that was reading some sort of holographic display and on it was an image of the Valkyrie. A mechanic perhaps?

“Do you want to start?” Og asked his companion.

Drel smiled cruelly through rodent teeth and then stepped forward. “Thank you for coming. I understand that a lot of you are here just because work is hard to find these days. So let’s just get things moving along. How many of you have worked on a starship before?”

About half present raised their hands or appendages. Og suspected the number was actually lower and some of those raised limbs were lies.

“Those of you who’s hands are up can stay,” Drel continued. “The rest of you, better luck elsewhere hmm.”

After they had left Drel spoke again to his remaining crowd. “How many of you have used a weapon? Plasma or projectile or anything else? And have you killed before?”

Again over half left, leaving just five.

“I’ve not killed anyone,” spoke the plump alien. “But I’m just here for a technician job.”

Drel laughed, a high pierced wheezing laugh. “Could you kill someone if you had to?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Good enough for me.” He looked at the other four, the two Terranids they’d spotted before, and two aliens. “We only have one last question.” He turned to Og. “You want the honors?”

Og stepped forward, folding his four upper limbs together. “Are any of you wanted for crimes for which there is a reward?” He asked matter of factly.

And then there were three candidates left, the two Terranids and the plump alien. “Welcome aboard then. Your rate is 3 percent each. Speak with Drel to sign your agreement. Now what’s your names.”

The plump alien stepped forward. “I’m Povol Koareiss.” He shook Og’s and Drel’s hands. The two Terranids approached. “Amanda Wolf,” the woman said, “and this silent man is Johnny.”

They signed some papers and then Drel lead them up into the transport ship. Og had been pleased so far. They’d been back on Lamplight for only a few days and had nearly filled up their crew roster. They’d been lucky enough to get some experienced crew on the first day of their arrival, and now they were just filling out spots. Hopefully the captain had a job lined up.

 

[Esplandia]

“Would you stop that!”

Sariah looked up and feigned ignorance as to what he was addressing. “Stop what?”

“The thing with your tail,” he said just as her tail came swung upwards and tapped the back of her chair with a loud thunk. “It’s bloody annoying.”

The third man at the table sighed, placing his cards face down in front of him. “She’s doing it on purpose, Julian,” he said. “And it’s only getting to you because your losing.

Julian Markov tossed his cards down. “I’ll take that as a damn sign to cut my losses.” He scooped up what was left of his money and knocked his chair over as he got up.

Sariah looked at her remaining opponent and raised an eyebrow.

He responded by tossing another GBD token into the pot. “I call,” he said.

Sariah placed her cards up, showing a straight. Petrov Androkar furrowed his brow in irritation. “Damn,” he said, and then followed his companion away from the table. Both men stood muttering off to the side, realizing they’d been had from the start.

Sariah gathered up her winnings. The captain entered the room and saw the irritated looks on the two men’s faces and didn’t have to ask what happened. He turned to Sariah, approaching the table. “Senior staff meeting in twenty minutes.”

“We have work?”

“Yeah.”

She finished grabbing up her winnings and headed out of the room. The other two men watched her go.

“I lost six months pay the first time I ever played her,” Valentine said. “She’s a lot better than any of us.”

Petrov gave a sidelong glance but didn’t say anything. The captain had the distinct impression that he had a problem with authority. Julian however just shrugged. “I’m shit at the game anyway. That’s why I’m working as your mechanic.”

“My advice,” Valentine added. “Play low stakes next time.” He started out of the room. He stopped and turned back to the men. “Make sure to stow your gear. We’ll likely be lifting off before the end of the day.”