The Valerra system is composed of nine planets each with its own ruling house. They are all traders. The house of Necli on Siecom is the weakest. They have been trying for three hundred cycles to move up in their position among the houses. Lying, cheating, stealing, and murder are not uncommon among the houses but it seems to run rampant in this one. And it’s just not the ruling houses it’s all of the planets inhabitants. Every one of them living a life in which trading whether its information, pulse pistols, slaves, is all for the opportunity to move up in class. The more you have the higher you go. Living in a society where one’s parents can kill their offspring if they feel that their wealth is a threat. The planets in this system seem content to fight it out themselves without bothering the other nearby systems. Nor has any other system expressed an interest in them preferring instead to use the resources available to them. If it exists and you are willing to pay the price you can probably get whatever you are looking for on one of these planets. Everyone comes here to talk business and to do business since these planets do little to attract attention and is just out of reach of peacekeeper territory. A perfect place to go if you want to lay low and make contacts.

Although each planet has its own military force, they do little to enforce the laws. But they do try to maintain the appearance of formality to keep face. The military commanders of each ruling house have been trying in secret to combine forces to overthrow all the houses in the system but because of disagreements and distrust little has been accomplished. The houses have been aware of the attempted coup and have hired mercenaries to assassinate suspected leaders and have paid other military figures for their loyalty. But the military does like to know who is on their planet and why and have paid informants who gather the information they require. Information is power and if they can use it to their advantage they will. However, those recon ships are another story.

The recon ships are pirates hired by the houses to spy. To see what the ships are carrying and if they pose a threat to them. The arrangement is that if any of the houses suspect that any ship is carrying what they considered “contraband” than the house has the right to keep some if not all of the contents of the ship including its passengers whom sometimes end up as slaves or are sold to the highest bidder. What ever the house does not want the pirates are free to keep which is usually the ship and what ever remains inside. The ships are either modified or sold for scrap which ever is the most profitable. The only ships that are allowed free passage are food freighters and medical frigates. They are identifiable by a special homing beacon that all of the houses have agreed upon. There is a representative of each house present to monitor the loading and unloading of the cargo to ensure that the cargo poses no threat. So far it’s been very profitable for both the houses and the pirates.

He scanned to see if he had received any hails. There were none but a medical frigate attempted a long-range scan but the ship managed to jam them. Great now they are using med frigates to scan. Things are going to go from bad to worse if any of the other houses finds out he thought. He maintained a high orbit until he would receive a coded signal that he would have to secure then enter the cypher key in order to decoded it. Until then he would begin to prepare.

He made his way to the lower level of the ship to where the weapons storage bin was. He affectionately named her sat, Sperian Automated Transport. One of the few remaining ships in her class left in the galaxy that survived the Hundred Cycle War. She was in decent shape after what she had been through. These transport ships were used for rapid deployment of troops and were heavily armed. The ship had four levels including the command deck and a cargo bay that was large enough to hold a recon ship or two prowlers. He made some modifications on her but essentially she remained the same. When he gets to the bin, a massive door separating him and his prized possessions, his lifeline. “Please come forward for retinal scan.” He moves his head forward looking straight into the blue light. The scan proceeds as normal. “Scan complete. Identification verified. Welcome back commander.” The heavy doors opened up to reveal an arsenal of weapons. He already knew what he wanted. He grabs his pulse pistols; two for his holsters around his waist and two for the ones that he would carry on his shoulders. He reached for two plasma grenades, which could be put to good use, should he get caught in a tight scrape it would be his way out. He leaned over to his left and reached for his thermal sensor. A little gift from his days as a black ghost. Slightly modified but essentially the same, the sensor regulates body temperature, after all he was sebacean, but the added little feature is that it also masks heat signature making it impossible for anyone to track him by using thermal and infrared scans. He doubled checked his body armor to ensure that it was in good condition. It was one of his payments from the Zipeaga mining guild. They hired him to bring back a miner that had gotten too greedy and tried to smuggle out ores and metals. He knew a good thing when he saw it. The armor gives him excellent protection and so far it’s the only one of its kind and he was never found another individual with this type of body armor. The mining guild told him that they found the armor while mining on Ajorka along with some other artifacts. He always promised himself that one-day he would try to track down its origins. He stopped to think to make sure that what he was taking with him was enough. One of his shortcomings was that he was extremely meticulous. Even his commanding officers told him that this was an asset and a weakness. He laughed it off when he thought this. The ship alerted him that the signal had been acquired and he made his way to the command deck.

Once on the command deck he made his way towards the communications console and began to enter the cypher key. “Cypher key accepted. Decoding signal. Standby for incoming message,” read the console. A voice cracked out, “…Ah my old friend so happy to see you again. I trust that your trip was uneventful?” “As uneventful as this conversation,” he quipped. “Same old Traynor I see.”

U’ave, the vilest in the house of Necli, always working an angle looking for the edge. He was not so concerned with bringing his house upward in status as much as he was looking to gain power over the entire system. This made him dangerous and someone not to be trusted. But he did have many contacts that have always proved useful. “Everything has been arranged. Shall we meet at our usual location?” he asked. “Fine by me. And U’ave, I’ll know if the items that I requested are second hand so your price better be fair.”

“Traynor you know you can trust me. Have a little faith. I’ll will see you in eight arns.” He took the ship out of high orbit and contracted the control port.

“Sperian transport permission granted. Please commence landing procedures and follow flight path to dock 4478. Welcome to Siecom.”

The ship began to its decent following its guided flight path. As the city began to emerge he saw that it had become larger. The whole planet was used up. Every piece of available land was either bought, waiting to be traded or was destroyed and in the process of being restored. Food and water were grown and recycled underground mainly because of the layers of the upper planet’s atmosphere had been destroyed due to industrialization. He began to see beautiful buildings pierce the horizon as the city came into view. Ships and support pods swarmed all over the skies. He could see food and water being brought to the surface being loaded onto pods that would head for the docking bay and be loaded onto freighters under the watchful eyes of one of the representatives of the opposing house. He started to feel the filth cover all of him. He hated to feel this way but these people were a means to an end. His survival depended on them.

The long tunnel that was the entrance to the docking bays grew closer and he could begin to see the streets cluttered with people hustling about making their little deals. The ship made a sharp right turn and he looked up just in time to see the ship enter the tunnel. He could see the exit a long way off, a perfect place for an ambush he thought. His mind began to race with different scenarios that might happen and he came up with the four most likely. One: a ship could be waiting for him at the end of the tunnel waiting to fire once he emerged and was clear of it. If that did not happened then any number of ships that were landing or taking off would be able to fire on him. He was not so concerned with Sat taking on the blasts she could take it. What he was concerned about was the pulse blasts that would cause her to be pushed into a number of structures or people. On her current flight path she would have little room to maneuver. And if any of the blasts ricocheted off of her hull he knew that it could hit other ships. If he timed it right he would be able to veer out of the line of fire but a lot of people and things would be singed. Two: They would hit him once he was on the ground and he was out of the ship and on the landing deck. With all the noise on the deck, a sniper with a suppressed pulse rifle would be the way to go. He could to try to escape by blending in with the quickly moving crowd. He wasn’t worried about being hit, his body armor would protect him…but not against a headshot. He knew that in these types of situations, snipers are trained to aim for the head the easiest and most visible part of the body. He had been to this planet before, landed in these same docks. There was no real advantageous position for a sniper to be. Its not unheard of mounting a sniper on a moving ship. This would be easy with all of these ships moving about. But this was way too expensive and attracts too much attention. But you never know how high someone is willing to pay to get rid of you. He had to play out the hand that was dealt to him. Three: When he landed and exited the ship the crowd would open fire on him. He knew that he could probably handled three of four of them but if he was caught in a crossfire or overrun then he was in trouble. In which case he would use this plasma grenades and if he was lucky he would be able to escape without killing himself. And lastly nothing would happen. He would soon find out.

The ship exited the tunnel and Sat was in a holding pattern until traffic ahead was cleared. Now is a good a time as any. He grew anxious. He looked out of the cockpit window trying to see if he could spot any ships that looked like they were in an offensive position. He saw nothing. Because of the holding pattern his only field of view was directly ahead he could not see to his left, right, below or above. “Twenty more microts then resume course,” the control port blurted out. “Wonderful” he replied. Hurry up lets move, he felt way too exposed like this. Those microts seemed like arns to him. Finally the control port signaled that all was clear to proceed. She resumed her flight path to dock 4478. Still no signs of any ships. He looked out of the left side of the cockpit window and saw the crowds. The sound of the landing beacon went off signaling that the dock was approaching. He took one quicker glance out of the window and saw nothing. One down, three to go.

The ship entered the dock loudly, dust spewing in the air as the thrusters fought the gravity. The retro thrusters fired and Sat slowly began to lower herself to the pad. She landed with a gentle thud. Her engines shut down and the sound of coolant being sprayed on her hull and engines started. He saw the ground crew begin to scurry around her. He began a self-diagnostic on the ship and made his way to the landing ramp to inspect her hull wondering what to expect.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3