Chapter One: Finding Fifth

by Lucas X. Wiseman

Halsirena hated it when gunfights broke out at the end of her shift. It was winter, or as near enough as the spaceport’s weather generator could make it seem, and winter was usually when the most rowdy Flagless ships made port. And that often meant Hals spent the last hour of her workday cleaning up scorch marks and blood.

A hoarse voice shouted: “Yer a cheater and a scoundrel!” which was the only warning Hals got before blaster bolts started to sizzle the air inside the Maiden’s Lament. She was no fool; even when she was working she wore her deflector ring-- pierced through her nose, instead of on an ear or on a finger like most spacefolk chose. And good thing too, because one of the wayward blasts knocked her on her ass as the two trawlers drew down on each other and started shooting. Hals stayed on the ground and sighed as more bolts of laser fire flew overhead. She was so close to going home, too. Her ring heated up slightly as it absorbed the blast-- it was synced with a few dozen different pin-sized implants across her body designed to distribute the energy and heat of a bolt and dissipate it, but it still got a little hot when she got shot.

Next to her, a young and frightened looking patron had dropped to the floor too. She’d been on the way back from the privy, and looked absolutely terrified; the whites of her eyes shining bright against the barely clean floorboards of the Lament. The two scoundrels shooting up the place had a few buddies with them, who joined in the battle. It wasn’t an even fight, the accused cheater only had two of his crew, while the other man had four cohorts fighting with him. In a few seconds the cheater’s shields would be overwhelmed and the fighting would be over. But it appeared the cheater had shields of a decent potency, so the other side swapped from blasting uselessly pulling out knives. People were either watching and cheering, sprinting out of the bar, or trying to ignore things best they could. Hals took pity on the young pup next to her.

“You know, this isn’t uncommon. Card cheating, usually-- or somebody stole from somebody’s mother’s uncle’s ship 20 years ago, or… well, there’s usually a reason, but not always.”

“This happens often?” the girl said, her voice a horrified squeak.

“Weekly,” Hals sighed. “I was almost off, too. You doin’ ok?”

“I mean, I--” there was a big thump and cheers from the middle of the bar. The accused card cheater had finally slumped over, a knife sticking out of the side of his head. His two cronies took one look at each other and scattered, leaving their buddy’s body. Hals sighed. More work for her. Her new friend on the floor gagged as the man died.

“You’re new to all this, huh? First time in a lawless port?” Hals said. Now that there was no danger of getting accidentally blasted, she sat up and brushed herself off, surveying the damage to the Lament. A few broken chairs, but the tables were hardened gossamer steel; it would take more than a small bar brawl to break them. Where the dead man lay, a thick pool of blood was forming.

“They just killed him,” the young pup said, her voice shaking.

“You know, shields only work on lasers, not physical objects. Most pirates don’t have slug throwers anymore, for fear of shooting through their own ships and killing themselves. That’s why everybody and their mother carries a blade.” Hals said. She looked at the terrified girl again and took pity on her. “Let me bring you something.”

She got to her feet and helped the quaking would-be pirate into a sheltered corner booth that had been vacated by a trio of pirates who had conveniently forgotten to pay their tab. She scowled, and committed their faces to memory. If they ever came back in, she’d have words for them. And a swift kick in the ass, if they refused to pay up.

She went back to the bar, where Olfadden was. He hadn’t even ducked during the fight; he’d just kept on polishing glasses and pouring drinks. He was a very large man, with dark eyes and big, scarred hands. He was one of the few successful pirates Hals had heard of that had gotten out of the life with a fistful of treasure, and managed to stay out. He’d bought the Maiden’s Lament and fixed it up, turning it into a hub of trade and gossip on Adumon Station. Most of the Flagged pirates who landed on the station made sure to stop into the Lament, which meant everybody else did, too.

“I need a pick-me-up, three kinetic ales, and a 50/50 shot,” she rattled off. Getting blasted was no reason to forget the orders she’d taken, after all.

Olfadden nodded and started pouring worlessly. Across the Lament, Hals caught the eye of Li-Cha, the other serving girl working with her. They both wore the uniform of the Maiden’s Lament, a full-body workman’s overall with the legs cut almost completely off, so their legs and thighs (and almost everything else) were available to be seen. While Hals felt like the uniform made her look like an adolescent girl, Li-Cha managed to make the thing look elegant and sexy. That, combined with her purple core-world eyes, and she was by far the most popular server at the Lament. She zoomed around a table of privateers who displayed the dark blue armmark of the Mad Emperor and winked at Hals.

“Now here I thought you’d dodge out of the way of a blast that slow, ‘stead of getting slapped upside the tit by it,” Li-Cha said with a grin. Hals had noticed her use her serving tray as a shield when the fight broke out, catching a blast on it deftly without seeming to try. She and Li-Cha had known each other for about six months, ever since the other woman started working at the Lament. They had a curious relationship, never really skimming past the surface. Hals wanted to, of course, but Li-Cha always seemed to keep her at an arm’s length. Even when they’d had tea together at her house, she was cordial and friendly, but never more. Hals shook her head.

“Well, I just know how good my shield ring is,” Hals said, tapping her nose. “If I was worried, I might have stepped aside; but neither of those twinkle-eyed gamblers were going to pack anything that could hurt me.”

“I see you’ve got another lost pup under your wing,” Li-Cha said, using her chin to point at the corner booth. She was stacking her tray with food as fast as it arrived in the galley window behind the bar.

“She’s a bit shaken up. I’m just going to give her a pickup.”

“Mmhmm,” Li-Cha said, giving Hals a knowing look. “You can take care of her. I’ll take care of the cleanup. I know you’re almost off, anyway.”

Hals felt a rush of gratitude, then scowled at Li-Cha . “What’s with the charity?”

“I just happen to think it’s delightful you still care,” Li-Cha said. “A guy got dead fifteen feet away from here and you don’t give a coyote’s burp, but you want to take care of that girl. It’s–” Hals waved her hand, cutting Li-Cha off. “And you want my tips, right?”

“And I want your tips,” she confirmed. “Not the ones you’ve already gotten, but anybody you haven’t finished serving. I'll take that,” she said, holding out her hand for the tray Olfadden had stacked with drinks. “Fair trade,” Hals agreed. She gave over the tray, taking the pick-me-up for her new lost puppy, and then reaching behind the bar to get an ale for herself.

“Have fun,” Li-Cha said, almost skipping back into the taproom. Hals glanced at Olfadden, who’d been watching them.

“I heard it,” he said gruffly. “Enjoy the rest of your night. You’ll pay for any extra drinks you get, but those are on the house.”

“Thanks, Olf,” she said, trying to capture some of the sweetness Li-Cha seemed to exude effortlessly.

He grunted, and Hals found herself sitting across from a young, terrified stranger. Her fear-stricken eyes were still wide, which made their pale blue color even more apparent. Hals didn’t see the tell-tale chip lines, which meant they were probably the peepers she was born with. The girl wore an artful, twisting blonde braid that was impractical for long-term spacetravel. Hals guessed that clothes were once very handsome, but weeks of use had made them grubby and thin. They were not built for the hard work of flying a ship-- more like they were printed for mass production. Any Flagless crew worth their oramite knew durable clothes were just as valuable as a high-quality shield ring. Nobody had seen the sense in telling the young girl, though. Despite her clothes, the girl was comely enough. Hals adjusted the straps of her uniform and then passed the sparking drink across the table.

“Name’s Halsirena, call me Hals,” she said. “You’ll want to pinch your nose when you shoot that. It’ll sting otherwise.”

The girl was staring at the sparking drink with unease. “What is it?”

“Pick-me-up. Most places around here serve one, or something like it. It’s better not to ask what's in it.”

“What does it do?”

“Makes traumatic experiences seem funny,” Hals said. “Up you drink. Pinch, remember.” The young pirate did as she was told, throwing the shot back impressively enough, though she did choke as the last bit of sparks went down her throat.

“What’s your name, kid?” Hals asked.

“I’m Orianna, and--” her pupils dilated to nearly the full width of her eye, then shrank to the size of a pinprick. She started to giggle. Hals sipped her ale.

“Orianna, huh. That’s a core planet name, I reckon.”

Orianna hiccuped and then gave her head a shake. “No, sorry. My name’s, uh. They’ve been calling me Fifth. On account of, my first night I drank a fi--”

“I see,” Hals said, cutting her off. “So Fifth, you running away from something? Ran recently, if you can’t keep your name straight. What’s got you on a pirate’s ship?”

A pick-me-up happened to make it very hard to lie, but Hals didn’t think Fifth needed to know that just yet. She seemed flustered and a little embarrassed. All concern about the dead man, which Li-Cha had somehow persuaded one of her regular patrons to haul out of the Lament for her, seemed to be gone.

“I’m um. This is my first trip off-planet. My parents wanted me to marry some clod-headed brat to secure some kind of a business merger. I don’t even like her. So, I left.” Hals passed Fifth the rest of her ale, signaling Li-Cha for another. Her drink arrived quickly and her friend deposited it with a smile and a purple-eyed wink.

“So you are from a core planet. Which one? Ekthellios? Ur-Sing? Maris? How’d you find a Flagless ship there?”

“I um, I just asked around,” she said sheepishly. “Went into the worst looking taverns near the spacedocks and just asked if anybody had work. I got picked up pretty quick.”

Hals felt her stomach clench, and glanced around the Maiden’s Lament to see if anybody here seemed to be with Fifth. Nobody seemed to be looking for her. In fact, there had been an extra empty chair at the card game when the shooting started…

“Wait, that guy who got stabbed. Was he--”

“He was my captain,” she said sadly. “Said he wanted to keep an eye on me, first time out. I didn’t--- he cheated on the ship, but the crew let him. I guess…” she stared at her drink, swirling it slightly. Her hands were shaking. “Everybody left.”

A yawing pit was opening in Hals’ stomach, and she tried to keep the uneasy feeling from showing on her face.

“So that captain--”

“Captain Pobrownaa,” Fifth said. Her voice had gotten very small.

“Captain Pobrownaa heard you were looking for a way off- planet, and offered you work. Fifth, are your parents rich?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Mom owns about a quarter of the planet, I think. I never really paid attention to the business side of things.”

“I see,” Hals said evenly. She glanced over at the man who had shot Fifth’s captain, a tubby fellow with a massive scarred hole where one eye should be. He was laughing and back to his game of cards, with a sizable pile of coins in front of him. It appeared nobody was willing to call his bluff anymore. She wondered if he knew he’d just saved a girl from getting kidnapped. Or if he’d care.

Fifth tossed back her head and started to drain the ale like an old pro, putting the entire thing away in a few seconds. She slammed it down with a goofy grin, one pupil fully dilated again.

“How many crew on your ship?” Hals asked. “Was that all of them in here?”

“No, there’s seven, plus a servitor mecha. I guess six, with the captain--”

“And what kind of craft is it?” Hals pressed.

“I don’t know ships,” Fifth said. “But it’s uh, called the Gilded Esposs.”

Hals hadn’t heard of that ship, which meant it was small-time. And with a crew that size, they weren’t exactly going to be bringing an army to look for Fifth. But soon enough, somebody would be coming. Hals made up her mind.

“Alright sweet-thing, we’re going home together,” she said, affecting the kind of loud, sultry voice she’d heard a dozen different working women use over the years. She glanced around the bar again to double-check that a member of the Gilded Esposs’s crew wasn’t here looking for Fifth. Nobody was paying attention to them.

“Oh, I’m flattered, and you’re cute, but--”

“Come on,” Hals said, dragging Fifth by the hand. The girl stumbled and Hals caught her in what she hoped looked like a lecherous embrace. She couldn’t bring herself to grope the poor girl just for show, but she did her best to look like she was hoping to get lucky tonight. A few patrons glanced at them as they stumbled toward the door together, and Olfadden grunted as she passed. Only Li-Cha seemed to sense that there was something other than lust at work here; she gave Hals a concerned look.

“Later,” she mouthed, hoping her friend would get the message.

And then they were outside, in the blustering, simulated atmosphere of Adumon Spaceport. Hals had lived here for almost a decade now, and she still loved the sight of it, especially from outside the Maiden’s Lament. When seen from space, the station looked like a pair of crescent moons merging together at their midsections, a sort of flying, curving X. The outfacing curve of the station was all gun turrets and shield generators, making it a formidable and dangerous enemy to have to battle.

The opposite side of the station was where Hals was standing and where everybody lived, thousands of souls all surviving together on the skin of the station thanks to artificial gravity and a simulated atmosphere. Hals didn’t even try to understand the science behind how it all worked; she just knew it was beautiful. She doubted Olfadden had realized he’d built his bar near the perfect point along Red Crescent to get a great view of all three of the other crescents, Blue, Silver, and Green. Normally the various docking towers or residential buildings would block your view, but not here. He’d probably just picked this place because it was cheap, and near Red’s main road.

The curves of the four arms were graceful and gentle, and allowed ships as small as single passenger pods and as large as planet-conquering war frigates to dock without jeopardizing one another. That was part of why it had managed to remain flying, despite the crackdown in the last few years from the Centurium: assaulting Adumon Station would be like attacking a large asteroid. An asteroid full of angry, heavily armed pirate ships. So far, the Feudal Queens hadn’t deigned to send one of their planet-crushers to enforce law and order on the fringes of space, which was just fine with the spacers, smugglers, Flagged pirates, and Flagless ne'er do wells who called Adumon Station home. Hals took a deep breath of the cold air and smiled. She loved it here.

Then Fifth hiccupped, and brought her back.

“Okay, Fifth. We’re going to go see a friend of mine, he’s going to keep you safe while we sort things out.”

“I can’t,” the young girl said firmly. “If we get separated, I’m supposed to wait. And-- oh,” she caught herself. “I thought they’d be waiting outside.”

“Most Flagless crew don’t stick around after their captain has died,” Hals said. “Just worry about yourself now, sweet-thing. Those spacers aren’t your friend.”

“We’ve been flying together for weeks!” Fifth objected. But she didn’t stop Hals from pulling her away, down a triplet of alleys and onto the main drag of the Red Crescent. Each of the four had a strangely colored tinge to the metal it was made of. Some said it was because Adumon Station was actually originally four different spaceports welded together by ancient Flagless pirates over the years, but Hals suspected it was someone’s artistic choice. Not everybody who became a pirate wanted to. Maybe one of those cruel, cutthroat bastards had loved painting once, and had decided to express that love a little when building the station. Or maybe it was just random. Anyway, Asendor lived across the station down in Blue Crescent, and so they walked.