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WARNING! You are leaving governed and charted space! Risk of disorientation and death is extreme. Ship will automatically resume course to charted space in 5…4…
“No, you won’t,” I tell it firmly, cancelling the homing sequence. The ship resists, actively fighting my efforts to continue. We slow to a crawl as I wrestle with a very stubborn craft who wants to go home with all its might.
WARNING! Ungoverned space is not subject to laws, which means anything could happen and nobody could do anything about it.
“Yes, that’s the idea,” I mutter.
WARNING! Friends and family may find your disappearance into illicit space distressing, as you are wiped from civilization in one fell swoop.
Whoever recorded these messages really felt free to get dramatic with them. They are not broadcasting in the ship’s usual soothing monotone. Instead, they are booming in the officious voice of an annoyed man.
“No friends, and all the family I have is right here,” I reply. It takes a lot to disable these warnings without turning navigation off entirely. I’d look up the process, but the information web doesn’t extend to illicit space. There are no web towers here. There is an illicit web, but we don’t have a log on for that, and I have no interest in tugging at those strands just yet.
Kail is letting me handle this, as he has little experience in matters of interplanetary politics, and I have no intention of letting him down. I am going to be careful, as careful as anybody can be in this dark space.
This is not my first foray into illicit territory. I’ve worked here before on behalf of the Colony. It did not go well, and the Colony did not renew any contracts in illicit space. I’m now grateful for that experience, though it almost killed me at the time.
“There are a lot of raiders and pirates,” I warn Kail. “It’s important, if they manage to board, we don’t fight. They have no qualms about slaughter. We’re playing by a whole new set of rules now. To survive, you have to negotiate. Some pirates are outright killers, but most want to make a deal that sees them uninjured.”
Kail listens, but doesn’t say much in return, and I have the distinct feeling all my warnings are going to go right out the airlock if such a conflict ever eventuates. That means I need to do what I can to stop it from happening.
I set the ship’s scanners to their most sensitive setting, turn all the external lights off, and run as low power as we can.
“We are sneaking,” Kail says. “I thought our reason for coming here was to seek allies.”
“Not allies in general, one ally in particular. I made her acquaintance when I worked for the Colony. She showed me mercy once, I am hoping she will do so twice.”
“It is a woman,” he says.
“It is the strongest woman I know. She’s not human, though. She’s more of a matriarchal type. If we can get to her, we’ll be safe. But she’s nomadic, and a pirate, and we’re likely to encounter her fleet first. That’s why I’m saying we don’t kill anybody. We don’t want to kill her friends or family before we ask her for help.”
“So we are hiding, knowing that we will be intercepted, but hoping we are intercepted by the right people.”
“Actually, I am hoping we come across one of their outposts, or perhaps a ship. It would be much better if we were the ones to initiate contact. What we don’t want is…”
“SURPRISE!”
There is a yowl of glee as three heavily-armed, very furry pirates appear on the bridge behind us. This is what I was afraid of. They must have spotted us a while ago, followed us under stealth, and transported here. There are only three of them because there’s only room for three of them on the bridge.
It has just gotten very, very crowded in here, and their booming voices risk waking the baby.
“YER HAVING THE PLEASURE OF BEING ROBBED!”
Their announcement is lost in Kail’s reaction, as he roars and turns about, fists clenched, teeth bared. I have to leap around in front of him.
“Parlay! Parlay!” I hiss-shout the word over and over. As I suspected, Kail is having a very hard time taming his aggressive instincts. If he puts his hands on them and a fight breaks out, it would be very, very bad.
I turn to Kail, putting my hands on his chest.
“Let me do the talking, please,” I say to Kail. “Remember, we’re here to make friends.”
There is snickering of laughter at my comment about making friends.
“I invoke parlay,” I say, turning around. “And I beg audience with Siryn Iyengar.”
At the mention of Siryn’s name, at least half the hostility leaves their eyes. These are Peltbars, a very furry and very powerful species known as being capable of surviving in hostile circumstances. They have been eradicated from lawful lands because they are also known to be absolutely ungovernable.
Not a single one of them is dressed the same. Pirates do not have a uniform. They are wearing disparate clothing, though they are all wearing thick boots with rubber soles. I know those boots well; they are designed to resist shocks from anti-pirate repellent systems. Other than that, the one who has spoken is wearing a velvet and gold velour jacket, while the one behind him is wearing nothing but a white vest, through which great puffs of dark fur are visible. The third is only wearing pants, but those pants are bright red. They are not dressed for stealth. All of them are festooned liberally in gold and silver jewelry, rings and earrings and bracelets. None of them are the slightest bit feminine. If only their fashionable attire ended there, but it does not.
