The Wench– Ch. 5: A Pirate's Life

Hals spent about half an hour trying to learn how exactly Silver’s Culling had been captured by Redblink and his crew, and she heard ten different stories that didn’t match up hardly at all. She’d been groped, shouted at, shot at, and she was angry, tired, and ready to kill the next pirate who swept in for a “victor’s kiss.”

The sim-lamps that lined the streets started to brighten to signal the rise of the nonexistent sun, and Hals found Li-Cha again. They met up at the main intersection of all four crescents called Wazishaki Concourse, which was usually full of market stalls and featured a gigantic water fountain; the only one on the station. A great many of the Redblink pirates had convened here. There were several were swimming in the fountain and laughing, others were already drunk, as someone had started passing out mugs of frothy ale. The savvy business owners could smell the opportunity a bunch of rowdy, victorious pirates presented,  so the eateries and pubs and distilleries around the square and all across the entire station threw their doors open to the newly arrived pirates who were eager to spend their loot.

Li-Cha was sipping on an ale and looking perturbed, leaning against the side of a parked skimmer.

“Got a bunch of different stories?” Hals asked her.

“Yes I did. There was a peculiarness to them I am not accustomed to.”

“I know. Nobody seems to have been involved personally, they were all like, manning the guns or working in the kitchen when everything went down. And since when have you known a pirate not to brag?”

“Never,” Li-Cha answered. She offered Hals an ale, and together they leaned.

She surveyed the party that was happening around her, feeling oddly detached. The pain of her injuries throbbed, trying to draw her attention. She hadn’t slept, she’d been shot at, fallen out of a window, and walked half the length of Adumon Station, while it snowed, and she was ready for bed.

“Screw it. I’m more tired than curious. I’m going to sleep.”

“Where?” Li-Cha asked.

The weight of that question hung in the air between them. Hals stared into Li-Cha’s purple eyes and felt her face heat up. She stuttered a response.

“I’ll go to Asendor’s place, kick that kid out of the cot maybe. I’ll… see you tonight at the Lament. Maybe we can get some answers there.”

“You’re welcome at mine,” Li-Cha said quietly. 

“I don’t want to interrupt your investigation,” Hals said, trying to make a joke out of it. She and Li-Cha looked at each other, an unspoken thing passing between them. Whatever had happened in the bathroom had passed, at least for now. Hals was too tired and hurt to think of anything but rest now.

“Okay. See you at the Lament.”

Hals had everything she valued on her person at the moment, and the streets were filled with pirates and thieves. She decided it was worth hiring a skimmer to take her to Asendor’s, even though she didn’t really have the money for it. She used her legible to hail one and in a few minutes, a single-person craft arrived, banking sharply down out of the air and landing near the edge of Wazishaki Concourse. It disgorged its occupant, a very drunk pirate wrapped in one of Redblink’s flags, and Hals stepped into it. It stank, presumably due to its previous passenger, but she turned the cool air on full and tried not to breathe too deeply.

Once she was seated, the skimmer floated upward and shot through the simulated atmosphere of the station quickly, entering the void of space that existed between the prongs of Adumon Station’s crescents. Before long she was dipping back into the atmosphere of Red Crescent. Flying in straight lines, rather than following the ponderous curves of the station itself, made the journey exceedingly short. 

The skimmer landed and Hals got out, but instead of walking around the building to the back, she rapped on the front door. It was morning, sort of. Asendor wouldn’t be able to blame her too much. But it wasn’t he who opened the door, it was Fifth. She didn’t look as small and scared now that she had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a steaming cup in her hands. Her blonde hair was damp and no longer braided, and her eyes were a lovely shade of blue that made Hals think of comet ice. It was easier to appreciate them now that she wasn’t terrified.

“Hey, you’re ba– what happened to you?” she asked, giving Hals a once-over.

“Killed most of your former crew,” Hals replied, pushing into the storefront. She looked up to the second floor balcony, but Asendor wasn’t there. She heard clanking from the small kitchenette. Bless him, he was trying to be a good host.

“You did what?” Fifth asked, following her. “Wh-- I don’t-- why?”

Hals ignored her and found Asendor in the kitchen. She poured herself some tea and leaned against the counter, watching him putter. It was sweet, really.

“You look rough,” he said without looking up. “They find you?”

“They did. I walked away, they didn’t. But I’ve got no place to stay. At least, nowhere that’s not full of laser holes.”

“Why did you do that?” Fifth almost screamed. “They were my friends, my crew! They--”

Hals whirled on her and raised a finger. “Don’t you dare come at me like that. I saved your rotten life, and I kept you from having to go back to daddy. You owe me gratitude, not a blasted guilt trip.” She hadn’t meant to yell, but it felt so unfair to be taken to task for saving someone.

Fifth froze, and her lower lip started to tremble. “They were my friends,” she insisted. This time, Hals tried to be gentle. She reached out to Fifth to hold her hand, but the girl flinched back. Hals didn’t try again.

“No, sweet-thing, they were gonna sell you, ransom you back home. They came to my place to find you because you were a payday to them. And I killed them because they shot at me when I wouldn’t give you up.”

“But…” Fifth trailed off, and tears leaked out, just a few at first. She shook her head angrily. “They told me. The Captain swore he saw something in me, something he wanted to train. He…”

But she seemed to be waking up to reality, because Hals didn’t have to say anything else. Fifth just leaned back against the wall, and then slid down, clutching her cup of tea like it would anchor her to the new world she found herself in. Hals groaned and joined her, her strained muscles protesting. Asendor peeked around the corner out of the kitchen, and when he saw what was happening he returned to the food he was attempting to cook. It started to smell good, like roasting meat and sweet tubers baked in grease and salt. Hals felt her stomach rumble.

“How can you be sure?” Fifth asked after a minute. 

“Overheard them talking when they were tossing my apartment. I was on the roof.”

“Are they, all-?”

“Not all. The youngest kid I didn’t kill, but I did hurt him. And somebody was back at the ship, talking to the rest. So whoever she is, she’s alive too.”

“That was probably Sbarra on the ship,” Fifth said. “She’s second to the Captain. I guess she’s the Captain, now. And the boy was Jul. He was kind to me.”

Another tear fell down her face, and she swiped it away furiously. “Stupid. Everybody wants something. Of course they weren’t--” she cut herself off with a shuddering breath. “I’m glad they’re dead.”

“Well,” Hals said. “Good then.” 

“Food’s up,” Asendor said, leaning around the corner again. “Come and get it.”

There were three plates of some adequately cooked eggs, a fried meat that was making a good attempt at passing as bacon, and potatoes. Hals tore into hers, glad for the warm food and the savory flavor. Fifth didn’t eat much, but she did try to. Asendor ate quietly and watched them both, then cleared his throat.

“So, what will you do now, Fifth? Do you still want to be called that?”

“I don’t know,” she replied. “I think so. For now. But where can I go?”

“You don’t have to go anywhere,” Asendor said, glancing at Hals. “I’ve been meaning to hire an assistant around the shop. Do you have any skill with mecha assembly, or prosthetics growth?”

“I don’t have any skills,” Fifth said sadly. “I can’t believe I thought that the crew of the Esposs saw something special in me. I’m just a rich brat trying to outrun her obligations. I didn’t even finish studying at university.”

Asendor grunted. “You seem like a quick learner though. So long as you don’t mind getting your hands dirty.”

“That, at least, I can do,” she said, glancing at her fingertips. She’d showered and Asendor had given her some of his clothes to wear, so she looked much less out of place than she had before in her grubby finery. She looked like a working woman. She could blend in and disappear.

“Who was it flying that planet crusher?” Fifth asked, changing the subject.

“He’s one of the Flagged Lords, name of Ilum Redblink. Heard of him?” Hals asked.

“Flagged? And no, I haven’t.”

Hals blinked rapidly, trying not to laugh. Fifth truly knew nothing.

“There’s plenty of pirates, and scavengers, and spacers in the world that don’t fly for anybody but themselves. They often have logos, or mottos, or even actual flags. But the Flagged Lords are the pirates who own massive swaths of space, dozens of crews and ships. Their flags are the ones everybody recognizes, markers of status and they offer protection, to a degree. Fire upon a Flagged ship and you’ve made an enemy of every other one. They’re basically admirals, or kings, and any pirate that isn’t under one of their banners is called Flagless.”

“The Golden Esposs had a flag, but it was just an egg with a star.”

“Not one of the Flagged,” Hals confirmed. “There’s four, currently.” She pulled out her legible and started pulling up images of the flags from the local network.

“Redblink’s is this; jawless skull and crossbones with red eyes. He’s got synthetic irises. Rumor is he stared into a black hole too long and lost his eyes.”

“I heard he stared into an exploding sun to learn the secrets of navigating Neverspace, Asendor said. Hals shrugged. 

“Pirate stories are all like that, though. A hundred explanations, and usually none of them is worth the air it cost to speak them.”

“Who are the other Flagged Lords?”

“There’s Jonox Hean. Used to be a man, till he got an addiction to synthetic surgeries. Nobody’s sure how much of him is human, now,” Asendor said. Hals pulled up his flag: a skeletal looking mecha hand, and a hovering key above it. “Most of his pirates are augmented, like me or Hals,” he said. Then he breathed in sharply, glancing at her. Fifth didn’t seem to notice.

“The other two are Lurien Alabrig, and Bulkhead. Bulkhead is a monster, kills anybody not under his protection. The other three Lords have a truce together, but not him,” Hals said. She showed Fifth his flag: a bloody set of silver teeth on a red background. “You ever see that flag, you burn fuel in the opposite direction,” Asendor said.

“Lurien is actually a former Admiral from the Centurium,” Hals continued. “Defected with a dozen experimental, high-power ships. Nobody knows why. His symbol is the Centurium heart and leaf, but upside-down and with a big slash through it.”

“And Redblink stole a planet crusher,” Hals said. “And no one seems to know how.”

“It’s called the Silver’s Culling,” Asendor said. “After it appeared I looked her up, to see if there was news of a ship that size going missing. There’s not; but Silver’s Culling was deployed only a few systems away according to the reports I could find. It was the closest one. Sent to the planet Lingoorar for pacification. Sounds like it never made it there.”

“Good,” Hals said firmly.

“Seconded. How Redblink got it, I’d love to know though,” Asendor said. “Those ships can have fifty thousand people on them if they’re fully equipped. Basically a floating battle station fused with a moon.”

Fifth was staring at the empty cup in her hands, so Hals took it and filled it again. Asendor wasn’t much of a cook, but he always had an excellent collection of tea on hand. She warmed up her mug as well. She was starting to feel drowsy from the food and the warmth. She sighed contentedly.

“I suppose you want to stay here,” Asendor said. “But if I’m housing Fifth too, I’ll need to go buy another cot.”

“I just need to sleep here for a few hours. I’ll stay with Li-Cha.”

“It’s no trouble,” Asendor said. “Cots are cheap. Maybe I should invest in a guest bedroom.”

“You’d have to clear out that junk room upstairs,” Hals said. “That’d take a year, and I need to sleep before then.”

“What do you want from me?” Fifth broke in. Both Asendor and Hals turned to her. She hadn’t looked up from her cup, but she was clenching it firmly, and her voice had a hard edge to it.

“What?”

“You saved me, but everybody wants something. I can see that now. So what is it? You want the reward for yourselves, maybe? Well I’m not going back!” She shouted that last part, sloshing some tea on her hand and then swearing.

“It’s hot,” Hals warned. Fifth stuck her burned fingertips in her mouth, looking considerably less fearless now. She was blushing.

“One of the things that makes rules true is the thing that breaks them. Hals breaks most rules,” Asendor said. “She’s not trying to get anything out of you.”

“Bullshit,” Fifth said, looking from one to the other.

“Now me? I’d like you to work around the shop, if you’re going to stay here, at least until you get on your feet. But Hals, she just collects lost souls like you and I. I think she’s secretly building a menagerie, but I haven’t been able to prove it.”

Hals gave him a gentle punch, and he smiled warmly. “She’s a good person.”

“When I’m not shooting people because they ruined my evening by breaking into my home,” Hals pointed out. “Good is relative.”

“You’re good to me, and to her,” he said, pointing at Fifth. “That’s enough.”

Hals shrugged. This was an argument she could win if she told Asendor her life’s story, but she didn’t particularly want to. She glanced at Fifth, who was trying to look fierce, still.

“Sweet-thing, if I did want something of you, it would be that you’d stop treating yourself like a damn damsel. You’re a capable woman, and a pirate. Nobody’s coming to save you. Act like it.”

Fifth opened her mouth, but closed it again without speaking. She looked worried.

“I don’t know how to fight, or fly a spaceship, or fix things,” she said. “I studied art in school. Literature.”

“Maybe you can be a skaald, and write pirate shanties,” Asendor said. “Can you sing?”

“A little,” she admitted.

“Well taverns are often looking for serving girls who can carry a tune. Maybe you could try that. That’s what I did,” Hals said. “Started working as a serving wench. Never really stopped, come to think of it.”

Fifth grimaced. “I don’t like that word. It’s demeaning.”

“It is, unless you choose it for yourself,” Hals said. “If you’re the one who puts it on you, when others try to make it hurt you, it doesn’t. ‘Cause you chose it for yourself.”

Asendor was quiet at this, but he did give Hals a long look. She just smiled at him.

“Anyway, I’m exhausted. I’m taking the cot. Do whatever you want, it’s your life. But I’d recommend sticking around. Not everybody on this station is as friendly as us,” Hals said. She saluted Asendor with her mug of tea and wandered through the kitchen and into the back room, where the messy cot lay. Fifth still had the blanket around her shoulders, but Hals was tired enough not to care. She collapsed and fell asleep in seconds.