The Wench– Ch. 6: Queen's Red Vint

The Wench– CHAPTER SIX

The Queen’s Red Vint— A wine born from a dead planet’s ashes.

Hals woke up sore. The cot wasn’t comfortable, but it was better than the floor, and somebody had draped her blanket over her sometime while she slept. Hals groaned softly and checked the time on the legible wrapped around her wrist. It was evening. Almost time to head to work. Outside, she heard the sounds of revelry. Silver’s Culling was still in port, then. 

Hals got up and went to the bathroom to change and clean up. She stripped down and took a moment to survey the bruises and wounds. She was healing well, and nothing looked broken or infected. That was good, at least. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a spare uniform for work (well she did, but it was back at her exploded apartment). She eyed the balled-up, grimy, blood-covered work clothes she’d thrown in her go-bag with dismay. She’d have to show up to work in her civvie clothes. Olfadden wouldn’t be happy.

A knock on the bathroom door. “Hals? Li-Cha dropped by earlier to check on you. She brought you a uniform too, I’ve got it here.”

“If it's one of hers, it’ll be tight in all the wrong places,” Hals said, opening the door . Ascendor had his back to her and was very pointedly looking away as he handed her the jumpsuit. “Better than going in nude,” he said, still not looking. 

Hals flashed him a grin that she was pretty sure he saw before letting the door close most of the way. She changed out of her clothes and did her best to comb her hair with her fingers. The jumpsuit wasn’t the perfect fit, but it was better than nothing.

“You know, you’ve seen me naked before,” Hals said as she dressed. “You don’t have to act like you haven’t.”

“Your being naked was incidental to the work I was doing at the time,” Asendor said. “It’s different.”

“If you say so,” Hals said, zipping the suit up and stepping out. “Fifth still around?”

“She went out, but she promised she’d be back tonight. She helped me around today, cleaning things. Dusting. She’s a tall girl, got to the top shelves.”

“You believe her?” Hals asked.

“That she’ll be back? I hope so. She’s out of her depth, Core-world girl like that in a place like this.”

“She’s got grit. She’ll be okay.”

Asendor nodded. “I hope so, too. I could use the help. Not as young as I used to be.”

“Me either,” Hals sighed. Asendor laughed, and it sounded a bit like a skimmer coming in for a bumpy landing. “You’re barely thirty.”

“You’re barely fifty,” Hals countered. 

“Honestly I’m not sure about that. I spent a lot of time out in the black. Time can do some strange things to the body in Neverspace.”

Hals nodded. She’d spent her fair share of time there, too. Not so much as him, of course, but enough.

“Anyways. What’s up with the Culling?”

“It’s still there, and it’s still disgorging pirates at an alarming rate. I’ve had a few people come in from it for repair work, or patch jobs. I’m almost out of synthetic skin. A few others were selling parts they’d stripped, either from that ship or some other one they raided. Got a real nice cell-printer for almost nothing. Poor trollop didn’t know what she had.”

“I could use a tune-up on my foot, once I get the money together,” Hals said, eying her left leg. “The joints are getting pretty visible.”

“Care to show me now?” Asendor asked. “Nobody in the shop currently. I’ll probably lock up soon. Nobody will be coming in here anyway; every place that serves beer and food has thrown their doors open wide. There’s going to be a lot of business to be had tonight.”

“Hopefully I’ll make some nice tips, then,” Hals sighed. “I just love depending on the generosity of pirates.”

“About that. Hals… you sure going back to the Lament is smart? You killed a group of people yesterday like it was nothing, and the ones still alive know you work there.”

Hals bobbed her head for a moment, waiting for the rest. 

“Get one with it, then,” she sighed, leaning against the security mecha. “Tell me what I should do instead. I’m sure Li-Cha gave you the whole story.”

“As much as she knew, yes. You left the weapons you took off those pirates at her place, by the way. She brought them here.” Asendor gestured to one of the messy tables, where a small corner had been cleared. There were four carbines, and an extra hand cannon. Blue-beamers, she remembered. 

“So?” she asked. “What do you really want to say to me, Sen?”

“I want to know how the fuck you killed that many people with barely a scratch,” he said. “I know… we don’t talk about the past, here. With us. But that’s…”

Hals shrugged. “What do you want me to say? I used to run on a pirate ship, same as you, and probably Li-Cha, and half the people on this station. I got good at using my guns. But that was a long time ago!”

“I’m not mad at you, Hals,” Asendor said, raising his hands. Hals realized she’d taken a step closer to him, her hands balled into fists. She took a calming breath. 

“Sorry.”

“I’m only asking because I care. Most tavern girls don’t murder people and then sleep that easily.”

“Not your average tavern wench,” she said in a sing-song voice. Where had she first heard that song, anyway? She couldn’t remember.

“I’d wager not. I guess I just want to know that you’re ok. Not just physically,” he said, cutting her off. “But, I guess… that you’re not in trouble.”

Hals sighed. She did not want to have this conversation right now. “I’m fine, Sen. Really.”

He regarded her for a long time, then nodded. “Okay. I know someone I can sell those weapons to, get you some decent coin. Especially with the Culling in port, I’ll wager there are some ambitious pirates looking for an upgrade. And that hardware isn’t bad.”

“I’d appreciate that. Take a cut of the profits, for your troubles,” Hals said, relieved they had changed the subject.

“Fret not, my dear Halsirena; I was planning to,” Asendor said with a grin. “I imagine you used the Declaration? How’d it hold up?”

“I hate that name,” Hals moaned. She walked to the kitchen and started to root around in the fridge for the makings of a sandwich. 

“It’s a great name for a gun! That piece has history, a legacy! Least you could do is use it.”

“It’s a ZSO-1. Just because that particular gun did something a few hundred years ago doesn’t make it special.”

“It started the Kaliphox War, the first shot that signaled independence from the Core! That gun was a part of that!”

“And now it’s mine. How the mighty have fallen. And I don’t need to remind you how that war ended for the Kaliphox.”

“No, I suppose not. But that weapon still matters.”

“Not to me.”

Asendor screwed up his face in frustration. “You are unbelievable,” he sighed. “I suppose you need more ammunition, but I don’t know if I want to get it for you now.”

“I know how to get it myself, Sen.”

“Well yes, but I could trade one of those guns to my client for a full Hefty bandolier of uranium slugs.”

Hals raised an eyebrow. “No shit?”

“But you have to promise to respect what that gun is. What it was, anyway.”

Asendor’s face took on a superior glee as Hals groaned and nodded. “Fine, I’ll call it the Declaration. Happy?”

“Not remotely, that beautiful piece belongs in a museum.”

“You can sell it to one when I’m dead,” Hals teased. She made herself a sandwich and one for Asendor, and they ate in companionable silence.

“Still gonna go in?”

“I’ll go for a bit. Chat with Olfadden, explain that I might need to lay low. With this many pirates in the port, I’m not too worried about retribution,” Hals said.

“If you’re sure. I should have a real bed for you this evening, or at least something better than that old cot. And for Fifth too. I’m going shopping.”

“Don’t burden yourself on my account,” Hals said around a mouthful of food.

“I’m not. I’m taking the cost of it out of the money I’ll make pawning those blasters.”

Hals almost choked from laughing. Asendor pounded her back, and she got herself some sort of purple juice from the fridge and chugged it to clear her throat. It was tart, with a tingle of sweetness after.

“That’s good stuff,” she said.

“It helps me stay regular,” Asendor said.

“What?”

“It’s prune juice. Don’t drink too much, you’ll regret it.”

“You are getting old,” Hals said. Her legible vibrated, and she stretched it out to the size of a small screen. It was a message from Li-Cha, checking if she was OK, and asking if she’d be at work that night. Hals responded in the affirmative.

“I’d better get going. Hals walked into the front of the store and looked out the bay window at the steadily falling snow. 

“I’d hoped the atmosphere regulators would have put a stop to that,” she sighed.

“I’ll call you a skimmer. Don’t want you to show up to work wet and cold and tired,” Asendor said.

“I’d really appreciate it,” Hals admitted.

“In fact, I think I’ll go with you tonight. I haven’t been to the Maiden’s Lament in a few weeks.”

“You just want me to slip you free drinks on the sly,” Hals teased. Asendor grinned, using his own legible, a much more sophisticated model that included a digital projector instead of a physical screen. 

“I’m glad we understand each other, my friend.” 

The skimmer arrived, and they flew. Now that she was less exhausted, Hals took the time to appreciate Silver’s Culling in full. It was so large it was actually causing skimmers to have to redirect their normal flight paths. As they floated over it, Hals evaluated it with a practiced eye.

“That’s interesting. There’s no battle scars, at all.”

“How do you mean?” Asendor asked, leaning over to her side of the skimmer to look.

“Normally when you take over a ship like that, you do it by forcefully boarding around one of the big airlocks. You can establish a beachead, sort of a base of ops, and from there you can plan your attacks. So there, that big launch bay? That should have lots of damage around it where they killed the shields before boarding. But it doesn’t.”

“Perhaps they entered another way. The ship is supremely large, there might be another airlock on the other side, where we can’t see.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Hals said. “I’d have hit them all at once, though.”

The skimmer continued flying. Hals had too much on her mind, and she was sure this wouldn’t be a fun night of work. She was distracted. She barely noticed how beautiful the station was covered in snow. From on high, as they skipped around Silver’s Culling, Adumon Station looked like it was made entirely of crystal. Like a pure ice comet, with none of the dirt and rock. She barely saw it. The skimmer finished its route and settled down near the Maiden’s Lament. 

“Should we arrive together, or should I walk the block?” Asendor asked.

“I don’t care.”

“I’ll take a stroll. It’s a nice evening. Beautiful when it snows, isn’t it?”

Hals murmured an affirmative and Asendor seemed to pick up on her mood, because he gave her shoulder a squeeze and left her without another word, whistling slightly as he strode along the powdery streets. With his silver walking stick and the big coat he’d put on before leaving, he looked almost regal, trotting out of sight down the road, tipping his hat at passersby. Hals smiled a bit. 

As she assumed it would be, the Maiden’s Lament was an uproar of rowdy pirates, all drinking and gambling and having a terrific good time. Li-Cha was there, as were the other two serving wenches, Bishop and Azphira. They all looked a little haggard, except Li-Cha, who also looked like she was having the time of her life. Olfadden saw her and waved her behind the bar. She got there quickly, dancing and weaving between tables and people. He looked relieved to see her too.

“I have a special job for you tonight,” he said, wrapping a massive hand around her arm and steering her to face the bar. Hals normally wouldn’t let someone touch her that way, but Olfadden was one of the few who got a pass. One, she didn’t think he even realized what he was doing; that was just how he dealt with people, and two: she wasn't sure if she could stop him without breaking his nose and losing her job.

“See that woman with the big blue hat?” he asked, leaning close. He didn’t wait for her to respond. “She’s a high up Flagged, off of Redblink’s ship. Called the Silver’s Culling, I heard tell. I want you to serve her and her table tonight, and nobody else. Whatever they need, you bring it. Okay?”

Hals frowned. It was incredibly busy in the Lament; there were easily a hundred people. Having her focus on one pirate, even a high-up one, seemed nonsensical. She was about to say so when she caught Olfadden’s gaze. He looked frightened. He was holding himself with a kind of tension, like he was expecting a glass to break. Hals hadn’t seen him that way, not in all the years she’d worked for him.

“Okay,” she said, touching his hand gently and removing it from her arm. “What am I really doing, though?”

“Don’t give her a reason to be unhappy,” Olfadden said in a low voice. “She can make problems for us, and no force on this station could stop it if she decides to start trouble.”

“She’s that high up?”

“Second Flagged, after this most recent mission. You can see the patch on her left.”

Hals looked and indeed, the blue hatted woman seemed to be sitting in a way that everybody could catch a glimpse at the freshly sewn patch on her collar, a mocking approximation of a naval badge rank a Core sailor would wear. It was a red pair of dots with an upward facing arrow. Hals hadn’t seen its like before; but it clearly meant something to Olfadden.

“Did you fly with Redblink, once upon a time?” she asked him. He nodded, but said nothing else. “Take care, okay? She has a temper. Her name is Jane Neind.”

“You got it boss,” Hals said solemnly. In the back of her mind, she wondered if she’d be able to learn about the Culling at the same time. Surely this woman would know how the ship was taken.

Hals counted the number of people at Jane Neind’s table and loaded up a tray with ales, plus a fizzing, sparking pick-me-up. She approached the table, shouted: “These are from Olfadden, on the house!” and started passing the drinks out. The pirates around Jane Neind accepted with excited roars or by draining whatever drink they were working on to replace it with a fresh one. Most were tipsy already, Jane Neind was absolutely sloshed. This close, Hals took a moment to study her as she slammed back the pick-me-up. 

Jane Neind was first and foremost a big woman; loud, boisterous, and heavy with muscle. Hals next got the impression of the color blue: from her hat to her clothes and even her eyes, the color was everywhere on her. Her large leather coat had no sleeves to better show off her powerful arms. Her hair was a curly muddy brown, and her eyes were never still, always jumping around to see who was talking, who was listening, and who wasn’t. Her gaze skated right over Hals.

“Anything else I can get you?” Hals asked sweetly. 

“Flyin’ Dog for me!” one woman said. 

“Two of those!” added another.

“Get me a Shock and Awe, wench!” the only man at the table shouted.

Hals dutifully memorized the orders, then turned to Jane Neind. “And you, lady?”

The pirate snorted. “A lady I am not. Captain, though, ye can call me.”

“Of course, Captain Neind,” Hals said. “Care for another drink, or some food?”

“I want the most expensive bottle in this place,” she drawled. Hals stiffened; free beers were one thing, but Olfadden had some truly top-shelf stuff. Things you couldn’t really get outside the Core. He couldn’t just give that to her for free, could he?

The question was resolved before Hals could ask it though: Jane Neind dipped a fist into the cavernous pocket of her big blue leather coat and passed something to Hals without even looking at it. A fistful of treasure into Hals’s hand. A few pieces of starglass shimmered, as well as a large gold coin, and a finely wrought bangle of some kind, covered in twisting wires of gold, reyfinite, and platinum.

“Keep us in drink until we pass out,” she added, then shooed Hals away. Hals closed her fist quickly around the payment and scurried back to the bar to fulfill the orders and give Olfadden the payment.

“She wants the most choice bottle you’ve got. Is this enough to cover it?” Hals asked, showing him the treasure. Olfadden had given up the lifestyle, but like a true pirate, his eyes still lit up when he spotted treasure. He took it from Hals and examined the haul. Li-Cha scooted past and refilled her tray, flashing Hals a smile as she did, and Bishop grabbed a big tray of food from the kitchen window and turned to deliver it. 

“Here, Hals,” he said, passing her the gold coin. “Keep that for yourself.”

Hals pocketed the coin with a puzzled expression. Olfadden didn’t usually tip-out the wenches in his tavern.

“That old louse just paid for the drinks of every pirate in here twice over. Least I can do for you. Heard there was trouble last night. If you need to get scarce for a week or two, just let one of the others know.” 

Hals stared at him, deep into his big, kindly eyes that crinkled in a smile for just a second. 

“You’re made of starstuff, Olfadden.”

“You know it,” he said. Then he cleared his throat and banged his huge, meaty fists on the bartop thrice. Somehow the sound carried through the Maiden’s Lament, silencing conversations and stopping drunk pirates mid quaff. 

“Attention! You’re all about to witness something that hasn’t ever been seen outside a Core planet. I am about to open a bottle of Royal Red for that pirate, the great Captain Jane Neind.” 

Olfadden reached under the bar and pressed his hand against a nondescript panel, which beeped as it scanned his palmprint. It slid open without a sound and Hals caught sight of three very different bottles, one huge and thick like a club, one tiny like a bottle of perfume, and a sphere of some kind. That was what he grabbed, and he held it aloft for the entire Lament to see. It caught the light and shimmered a dull ruby color. The bottle was almost perfectly round, except for the few centimeters where the spout was. Something white glimmered where the stopper normally would be. Hals leaned closer to get a good look.

“Now, what’s so special about this bottle?” Olfadden asked the bar. “Does anybody know?”

The rowdy pirates were unusually rapt and quiet at the question. One woman in the back corner raised her whiskey and said: “It’s made from a dead planet!”

“She drinks for free tonight!” Olfadden responded, eliciting a few cheers from the woman and her companions. “That’s exactly right. The first planet the line of Feudal Queens conquered was Alador II, a bastion of herbs, fruits, and drink the like of which this galaxy has not seen since. That planet rebelled against Feudal Queen Sibyl Tillida the Mad, and she didn’t have an army big enough to take the planet back. So, she burned it from space, killing everyone and everything. And after forty days of bombardment, when the ashes of every living thing were swirling in the air, the oceans boiled, and the atmosphere naught but ash, she had a sample of the planet’s soil brought to her,” Olfadden said. 

At some point during his story Asendor had snuck into the bar, and was now standing near the door listening with an amused expression on his face. The bar was rapt. Even Li-Cha, Bishop, and Azphira had stopped serving to listen.

“The Mad Queen took the last harvest of grapes from that planet and the charred soil of Alador II and planted herself a private garden. I’m not at liberty to say how I got myself a bottle of this vint,” he said, spreading his hands wide and accepting the groans from the crowd with a grin. “But I can tell you that it is genuine, I stake my reputation on it. This is vint only Queens can drink, made from fruit that only exists in one place in the galaxy, grown in the soil of a million-million dead things, the ashes of an entire planet. And lest ye doubt the authenticity, every authentic bottle is sealed such as this one, with a piece of perfect starglass. Captain, if you would approach and inspect it?”

Jane Neind stood and tottered over to the bar. Every eye was on her, and she seemed to be absolutely loving it. She leaned on the bar and took the bottle with both hands.

“Do you see the starglass, captain? It is wider at the base and narrow at the tip, as you can see. This bottle was formed around the piece of starglass, and filling it with vint pushed the stopper into place. It is said to be impossible to get a starglass stopper back into one of these bottles after it has been opened. But see for yourself: has it been opened or tampered with in any way?” Olfadden asked. 

He was still performing, but he got a little nervous as Jane Neind approached. Hals doubted anybody else would have noticed the little lines of strain that appeared around his eyes, or the way his hands pressed against the bar top harder than they normally did. Something about her made him wary, and it put Hals on edge too. For her part, she seemed to pay him no mind.

“It’s perfectly sealed!” she declared, after she gave it a languorous once over in full view of the rest of the bar.

“And so it is. If I may?” Olfadden took the bottle back gently, wrapped it in a towel, and set it on the bar. Then he got out a shot glass and a small, smoking cube of comet ice. 

“Starglass shrinks in the cold, and expands in the heat. That’s why its so useful in ships, and why we value it so,” he told the crowd, trapping the piece of ice against the bottle stopper with his shot glass. “The only true way to open a bottle sealed like this is to do exactly what I’m doing; otherwise you risk shattering it and wasting this precious vint. Watch closely, now.”

Using the meat of his hand, he tapped the shot glass against the starglass stopper a few times. Each tap seemed to echo throughout the silent tavern. The glass stopper trembled with each blow, contracting visibly until on the fourth strike, it popped loose and fell into the bottle with a small splash. A few people gasped, and Jane Neind looked at the bottle with avarice in her blue eyes. Olfadden held it out to her gently, and she took it with a reverence that surprised Hals. She had been moved by Olfadden’s speech. Or she was pretending she had been.

Slowly, she raised the vint to her lips and took a sip, her eyes closed. The whole room listened as she slurped and a soft ‘ah’ escaped her lips. Jane Neind sighed like a she’d just been kissed. 

“It’s like falling in love,” she whispered. She drank again, more seriously this time, and the entirety of the Maiden’s Lament watched her wipe a tear from her eye.

“It’s just booze,” she said. “How?” She cradled the bottle like a newborn and gave Olfadden a very serious and surprisingly courtly bow. “I did not know this is what you had, when I asked for the best.”

“Which is why I gave it,” Olfadden said so quietly, Hals wasn’t sure anybody else had heard him. Their eye contact held for several seconds before she nodded and went back to her table. Everyone in the tavern, particularly her companions, watched her as she sat. Hopeful, perhaps, that she’d offer a taste of the legendary vint. But she did not. She held the bottle to herself, sipping it and sighing, and very slowly, the noise returned to the tavern. Asendor scooted up to the bartop and raised two fingers in salute. 

“I came in just at the right time,” he said to Olfadden. “Truly, a bottle of the Feudal Queen’s vint?”

“Truly,” Olfadden said. “The greatest treasure I ever found.”

“And you did not drink it yourself,” Asendor said. “I admire the strength of your resolve. I’d not have been able to resist.”

The big bartender shrugged.” I knew it would come in handy, one day, for settling a debt.”

“And what debt is that?” Hals asked, stepping close to him. “Surely no debt wasn’t so large as that. The treasure she paid you in, it couldn’t begin to scratch the cost of that bottle, if half of what you said is true.”

Olfadden gave her a flat look. “It’s all true,” he said. “And this is not a matter of coin and treasure. It’s a debt far deeper. She did not come here to drink and be fawned over by Flagless pirates. She came to see me, to settle our accounts. And now it’s done. Without violence, thankfully.”

“You expected a tussle?” Hals asked. Olfadden gave her a very long, heartbroken stare. Then he smiled, just barely.

“Even when we were married, I never knew what to expect from her. And when I left, I did it without giving her a goodbye. I thought… well, it matters little, now. She accepted the peace offering, I think.”

Hals felt her jaw drop, and Asendor looked equally surprised, his eyebrows leaping near the top of his bald head. Olfadden grabbed a glass and started polishing it. “Hals, you don’t need to give their table so much attention now. Help the other girls out,” he said. “Hop to.”

Hals nodded, still wheeling from the revelation that Olfadden had been married. And he’d left her, and the life of a pirate, seemingly at the same time. Hals wondered why. She didn’t have the courage to ask him, so she went back to serving.