Mostly Deadly - Part 1
Posted: Mon Jun 06, 2011 12:50 pm
As promised here is my first piece of oofic. I hope you enjoy it and please any comments or critics are gratefully received. Please excuse my bad spelling or mis-typing, I write quick and dirty.
I'm not too keen on how it's pasted into the box, would be nice to fix the width of the page, but it will do for now until I get my webpage sorted.
Now updated and corrected. Thanks Drew.
Mostly Deadly PT1
Regardless of how supposedly equal a society is, being hit in the face is generally not something most women are prepared for when growing up in the galaxies. The fist in question drew back again at the end of a rather flabby, hairy arm, ready to meet its target again.
Velisa Hayee was just gaining her balance and focus in the direction of the offending fist to try and protest.
“No, wait a min…” was all she managed to get out before the next punch connected directly with her cheekbone and the side of her nose. There was a distinct crack, followed by a large amount of pain and the strange sensation on the floor rushing up to meet her face as it pivoted away from the source of the impact. She pushed herself up on her hands, observing the pool of blood spreading out on the floor, which was leaking swiftly from her right nostril.
“You blue face scum,” she spat as her head turned to glare at the assailant behind her who was still on his feet.
He was an obligatory standard spacer that spent too much time in the command chair of his ship and not enough time in the exercise clubs. Guys like him ended up a little too overweight, then turn the gravity off to make them feel relaxed from time to time and then get even fatter due to not having to make any effort to move themselves around. This guy had not gone too far, but was on his way. He was obviously fresh from his pilot seat, still a little sweaty and unwashed. His appearance was made even more unpleasant given that his skin had a slightly blue tinge to it and around the neck was some evidence of now probably useless gills. Obviously, his ancestors somewhere far back were some type of aquatic life form.
Velisa observed him with contempt and wondered how his humanoid and whatever else ancestry had even managed to produce offspring. The thought sickened her and made her contempt for him grow. This is exactly the situation she didn’t want happening to her today. She’d come into the bar for a nice quiet drink and been very pleasantly surprised that she had been approached and chatted up by a man who for once she had not found utterly repulsive, annoying or stupid. She’d even been starting to consider inviting him back to her hired quarters when it had all been spoiled by the appearance of the fat frog descendent pirate and his cronies. He was obviously new to the whole pirate thing. Any longer term scumbag wouldn’t have bothered, but this one was up and coming with something to prove.
Velisa eyed the two cronies standing just behind her assailant. They glared down at her, with mocking expressions, hands resting on the concealed weapons in their coats.
The frog man pointed a flabby blue tinged hand at Velisa causing the fat on his arms to wobble slightly and it was as though he waited for it to stop before saying his piece.
“You’ve been told before, not to come into our bars.” The slight gurgle to his voice confirmed his probable amphibian ancestry.
She stood up slowly, smoothing back her now slightly messed up hair. Most of it was still tied in a ponytail but some had now escaped, framing one side of her face. She tried to move it again and failed as it fell back with one hand and wiped the blood from under her nose on the back of the other. It was a useless gesture as it was quickly replaced by a fresh batch that ran down her chin, dripping on the floor and down the front of the immaculately white top she was wearing.
“Look, I’m sorry…” She spat out the blood that had run into her mouth, “I’m sorry if you’re annoyed by my presence, but come on. This isn’t really an official bar is it?” She looked around at the other assembled patrons who tried to look innocent. “You move them every day to another empty section so that the station officials don’t get wind of them and even if they do, you wouldn’t be here when they come looking for you.” She drew herself upright a bit more and grabbed a towel from the bar to wipe her face on. “I obviously know the right people to be able to even know where to look for the place, so what’s the big deal?”
“You are not a member of the clan. You have no right to be here and pumping our other members for information is the kind of thing that will get you killed, quickly.”
One of the cronies un-concealed his sidearm and pointed it at Velisa’s chest.
“You are well known as being a serious pain in everyone’s side, underhanded, massively annoying and you’re not far off a general shoot on sight order.”
“Oh come on.” She put her most innocent, girly face on. “Little old me.”
The fat frog man turned to a crony.
“Just shoot her please. Now!”
The tall human crony eyed her up and down around the sights of his gun in appreciative manner. Velisa posed slightly as best she could with covered in blood and let him get a good look.
“Do we have to?” he said, “I don’t like killing a good looking woman. It makes me feel so bad afterwards.”
His view was instantly blocked by the bulk the fat man.
“I don’t care how you feel. She’s trouble. We don’t want her around any more. Shoot her.” His arm wobbled into pointing at Velisa again.
“Do we have to actually kill her?”
The frog man’s gills flexed slightly.
“Fine, shoot her in the knees.” He turned back to find Velisa right in front of him, nearly nose to broken nose.
“Oh come on. You wouldn’t do that would you?” Trying the innocent girly approach one more time.
“Oh I would.” He grabbed her round the neck with a fat greasy hand, and the stench of him managed to permeate her nostrils past the pain and swelling that was just starting to set in.
Velisa’s would be suitor who had decided to keep a safe distance from the affray at the start, chose that moment to step in.
“Hey,” he said. “The lady isn’t doing any harm. We were just having a quiet drink together.”
The second crony drew his own gun and pointed towards the approaching suitor who raised his hands instantly.
“Back off scumbag,” shouted the fat pirate. “This has nothing to do with you. Besides, do you really think your chivalry is going to have any effect on this piece of hermit dung?”
The fat man’s expression sudden changed to a state of shock, his breath held. He stared wide eyed into the face of the suitor who returned his gaze with puzzlement.
“He’s right you know,” said Velisa, her voice changing. “Although I don’t know any woman who wouldn’t appreciate a little chivalry, it probably won’t work on me. Besides, I can take care of myself. Also, I’m no lady.”
The frog pirate slowly turned to look downwards towards his chest, where Velisa’s hand was pressed against him.
“I would have let you get away with just a bit of a fight and some harsh language, but I was having a nice time, with someone I didn’t instantly hate. Secondly, you ruined my brand new, really expensive top and that really pisses me off.” She looked down at her hand. “You need a matching stain.”
The pirates hand dropped from Velisa’s throat and his cronies started to move round to see what was actually happening. His other hand began to lift shaking violently towards Velisa’s head and started to poke his fingers into her bright red hair, separating it more from the tie at the back. Velisa bared her teeth towards him and with sharp movement of her head, she jerked away from him and withdrew her hand revealing he source of discomfort. Protruding from the underside of her wrist-mounted, multi-function device was a thin blade about six inches long, covered in the frog man’s blood. He stared wide eyed at it, the apparent obviousness of the situation just starting to dawn on him. He looked down again at the growing stain of blood appearing in the chest of his own shirt.
“And don’t ever touch me with those fat, greasy, stinky frog hands.” Her comment raised the eyebrows of a couple of other aquatic ancestry life forms within the bar, but they quickly decided against saying anything.
The two cronies began raising their weapons towards Velisa and quickly stopped because of the sensation of a hard metal object pressing into the back of their skulls. A tall man with a face covered in hair and a split lip leaned over the first one’s shoulder and spoke closely and directly into his ear, revealing his pointed teeth.
“I really wouldn’t be so stupid as to point that thing at the mistress.” The whiskers on his face poked the crony in the ear and side of the neck making him shudder.
“That’s the kind of thing that gets a guy’s brains shot all over the wall.” A furry hand closed round his throat and claws dug in.
“Jansen. You really didn’t have to get involved you know.” Velisa smiled towards the feline mischievously and he smiled back. They’d done this routine before.
“I know mistress, but I couldn’t possibly let this one shoot you. He’s way to nice looking for that.” Jansen licked the neck in front of him with his rough tongue and clamped his large, well-built arm around him restraining him as he struggled uselessly to get free. “You ain’t going anywhere yet sweetie.” Jansen slowly took hold of the pistol being pointed at Velisa and pocketed it.
Velisa drew closer to the fat pirate frog again, staring directly into his slowly drooping eyes and he started to shake. She was amazed he’d managed to stay standing this long.
“Consider this a warning.” She looked at the two cronies in turn. “To everyone.”
Through gritted teeth, she spat the next words in his face.
“Leave me the hell alone.”
The first crony struggled again.
“If you really want to do something sweetie, go ahead,” Jansen whispered in his ear. “I wonder if she’ll just shoot you or drag you behind our ship through witchspace without an EVA suit on.” He was convinced and stayed still.
Crony number two was still holding his weapon wondering what to do.
“Is this guy ever gonna fall over?” Velisa asked, pushing the fat man in the face. He began to pitch backwards the second crony, decided he had a chance.
“You complete bit...” He just had a chance to say as his finger went to pull the trigger. A bolt of light sprung outwards from his face, splattering Velisa and some of the other patrons with his blood. He dropped to the floor, leaving a trail of smoke that ran back to the pistol of the second man stood next to Jansen. Barely a second later, the fat man finally hit the floor and rolled a little to one side with a distinct wobble.
Velisa’s face was screwed up, eyes closed against the incoming blood and gunfire. She wiped a hand down her face and blinked here eyes open, glaring at the gunman.
“Damn it Sobal. Did you have to do that?”
“I did warn them,” said Jansen. “Now where are his brains?”
“He shoot mistress.” Sobal’s voice was high-pitched and very quiet. “Cannot allow.” His grasp on common speak was not as good as Jansen but he got the point across.
“You could have warned me,” she said, wiping one eye.
“Short time. Must shoot.” Sobal holstered his weapon.
“What shall I do with this one?” Jansen pulled the only remaining member of the gang towards Velisa. She eyed him up and down.
“Not sure what makes him so pretty, but I’m only human,” she shrugged “You can have him if you want. Or just let him go.”
“Your lucky day big boy.” Jansen kissed him on the cheek, digging his claws into his neck just enough to draw a little blood and let go of him. The crony needed no further prompting, running straight out the door.
Velisa shook her head and wiped her hand under her nose again, sending a fresh bolt of pain through her face. She kicked the soles of the fat man lying in front of her.
“He broke my damn nose, that disgusting slime faced scum.”
She uselessly tried to wipe some of the mess from the front of her shirt then turned to face her would be suitor who had been slowly trying to back away the entire time.
“So,” she said smiling, “Does that offer for dinner still stand?”
He stared back at her, fear on his face, blood all over hers.
“Err... I’m not… Maybe another…” he stammered.
“Thought as much,” she said.
“Mistress.” Came a voice behind her. Jansen and Sobal were standing at each shoulder. “I really think leaving would be prudent.” Jansen said in his gravelly voice.
“Leave must. Patrons aggressive looking. Lots of.” Sobal said.
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” She nodded, and then knelt down next to the two corpses. She rummaged in the frog mans pockets, trying not to be sick. She pulled out a card, and pressed it against her wrist device.
“Credit transfer,” said the small computer voice.
“199.9 Credits,” Velisa said into it.
“What doing mistress?”
“Place thumb print.” Velisa pressed the fan man’s thumb onto her wrist device and gagged slightly when she saw the greasy fingerprint it left.
“This is a genuine Ranne Kranvech,” she said pulling at her top. “It doesn’t look like much but under certain light conditions, when you are close to a sun with the right frequency of light, it has the most amazing pattern on it. Like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
“Have you ever actually seen it?” Jansen asked.
“It’s brand new. How could I?” She tossed the card back onto the fat mans corpse. “That’s why he’s paying for a new one.”
The Night Whisper’s engines fired blasting the ship out of the station leaving behind a blood splattered bar a fair amount of worried lowlifes.
Velisa was sat in the command chair, scowling. She was wearing a different shirt, and her face was cleaned up. All that was left to give evidence of the incident in the bar was a slowly spreading bruise that started on the left side of her nose and spread across her top lip. Next to the command chair was a small bag with a gold K on the side.
“Seriously.” She said. “That guy sucker punched me.”
“Well of course he did.” Jansen’s athletic frame was lying under a control panel at the back of the command deck, tools scattered on the floor. “He was a pirate.” He slid himself out from under the console. “They’re not known to be the most honest and fair fighting people in the galaxies now are they, mistress?”
“Yes, yes.” She waved her hand dismissively at him. “Just fix the damn food dispenser. Next time I get a coffeen, I want it under 100 degrees.”
“Yes mistress,” he said and slid himself back under the console.
“And for the last time, stop calling me mistress.”
“I cannot do that mistress. You are my commander and…”
She cut him off. It was a very old argument.
“I know, I know. I’m a woman, I’m your commander, you call me mistress, that’s the way it is on your home world.” She turned the ship away from its direct course towards the planet and brought the engines up to full power. “Can’t you just call me Captain?” She pivoted the seat around towards Jansen.
“That would imply a military rank, that you do not hold mistress.”
“Just forget it.” She hit the hyperspace button and stood up from the chair, ignoring the countdown timer and picked up the top out of the bag, holding it against herself.
“I do like the way these fit. Nothing else comes close.”
She wandered to the side of the command deck, and looked into the small mirror that hung on the wall, inspecting her nose in the reflection. She pulled the tie band off and shook her bright red mass of hair out in order to re-tie it.
Being a red headed woman, gave her the usual dose of pale skin that went with it. Being out in space most of the time and rarely being in any kind of position to get a bit of colour, she was even whiter than most white skinned humans were. This had earned her the nickname of The Flame Ghost, not only for her appearance but also for her combat tactics, of seeming being able to disappear at will, during combat only to reappear in the most unexpected place and blast opponents to bits. Velisa just put down her combat tactics as being better than anyone else. They wanted to give her a scary name, more the better.
She juddered to one side slightly as the ship jumped through the wormhole and popped out the other side. She wandered back with a bored look on her face, pointed the ship towards the sun and hit the jump drive.
“Not going to the station?” Jansen asked.
“Quick top up of fuel and then on to the next system. Probably a good idea to keep out of station scanner range for a few jumps at least.”
“Precaution sensible.” Sobel said as he entered through the open door at the rear of the command deck. “Pirate grudges. Get mistress.”
“And another thing.” Jansen was on his feet this time. “Do you really think that girly innocent look is going to work? Trying to appeal to his chivalrous nature? Those concepts are long forgotten.”
“It might work on some.” She tilted her head to one side. "Back home when I was young, I once had 2 men fight a dual for my honour."
“Aquatic ancestry?” he said. “I seriously doubt that amphibians have any sense of chivalry.”
She waved him off.
“So where are we headed, mistress?”
“Isinor. Time for some easy pickings off the newbies.”
Part 2 to follow soon....
I'm not too keen on how it's pasted into the box, would be nice to fix the width of the page, but it will do for now until I get my webpage sorted.
Now updated and corrected. Thanks Drew.
Mostly Deadly PT1
Regardless of how supposedly equal a society is, being hit in the face is generally not something most women are prepared for when growing up in the galaxies. The fist in question drew back again at the end of a rather flabby, hairy arm, ready to meet its target again.
Velisa Hayee was just gaining her balance and focus in the direction of the offending fist to try and protest.
“No, wait a min…” was all she managed to get out before the next punch connected directly with her cheekbone and the side of her nose. There was a distinct crack, followed by a large amount of pain and the strange sensation on the floor rushing up to meet her face as it pivoted away from the source of the impact. She pushed herself up on her hands, observing the pool of blood spreading out on the floor, which was leaking swiftly from her right nostril.
“You blue face scum,” she spat as her head turned to glare at the assailant behind her who was still on his feet.
He was an obligatory standard spacer that spent too much time in the command chair of his ship and not enough time in the exercise clubs. Guys like him ended up a little too overweight, then turn the gravity off to make them feel relaxed from time to time and then get even fatter due to not having to make any effort to move themselves around. This guy had not gone too far, but was on his way. He was obviously fresh from his pilot seat, still a little sweaty and unwashed. His appearance was made even more unpleasant given that his skin had a slightly blue tinge to it and around the neck was some evidence of now probably useless gills. Obviously, his ancestors somewhere far back were some type of aquatic life form.
Velisa observed him with contempt and wondered how his humanoid and whatever else ancestry had even managed to produce offspring. The thought sickened her and made her contempt for him grow. This is exactly the situation she didn’t want happening to her today. She’d come into the bar for a nice quiet drink and been very pleasantly surprised that she had been approached and chatted up by a man who for once she had not found utterly repulsive, annoying or stupid. She’d even been starting to consider inviting him back to her hired quarters when it had all been spoiled by the appearance of the fat frog descendent pirate and his cronies. He was obviously new to the whole pirate thing. Any longer term scumbag wouldn’t have bothered, but this one was up and coming with something to prove.
Velisa eyed the two cronies standing just behind her assailant. They glared down at her, with mocking expressions, hands resting on the concealed weapons in their coats.
The frog man pointed a flabby blue tinged hand at Velisa causing the fat on his arms to wobble slightly and it was as though he waited for it to stop before saying his piece.
“You’ve been told before, not to come into our bars.” The slight gurgle to his voice confirmed his probable amphibian ancestry.
She stood up slowly, smoothing back her now slightly messed up hair. Most of it was still tied in a ponytail but some had now escaped, framing one side of her face. She tried to move it again and failed as it fell back with one hand and wiped the blood from under her nose on the back of the other. It was a useless gesture as it was quickly replaced by a fresh batch that ran down her chin, dripping on the floor and down the front of the immaculately white top she was wearing.
“Look, I’m sorry…” She spat out the blood that had run into her mouth, “I’m sorry if you’re annoyed by my presence, but come on. This isn’t really an official bar is it?” She looked around at the other assembled patrons who tried to look innocent. “You move them every day to another empty section so that the station officials don’t get wind of them and even if they do, you wouldn’t be here when they come looking for you.” She drew herself upright a bit more and grabbed a towel from the bar to wipe her face on. “I obviously know the right people to be able to even know where to look for the place, so what’s the big deal?”
“You are not a member of the clan. You have no right to be here and pumping our other members for information is the kind of thing that will get you killed, quickly.”
One of the cronies un-concealed his sidearm and pointed it at Velisa’s chest.
“You are well known as being a serious pain in everyone’s side, underhanded, massively annoying and you’re not far off a general shoot on sight order.”
“Oh come on.” She put her most innocent, girly face on. “Little old me.”
The fat frog man turned to a crony.
“Just shoot her please. Now!”
The tall human crony eyed her up and down around the sights of his gun in appreciative manner. Velisa posed slightly as best she could with covered in blood and let him get a good look.
“Do we have to?” he said, “I don’t like killing a good looking woman. It makes me feel so bad afterwards.”
His view was instantly blocked by the bulk the fat man.
“I don’t care how you feel. She’s trouble. We don’t want her around any more. Shoot her.” His arm wobbled into pointing at Velisa again.
“Do we have to actually kill her?”
The frog man’s gills flexed slightly.
“Fine, shoot her in the knees.” He turned back to find Velisa right in front of him, nearly nose to broken nose.
“Oh come on. You wouldn’t do that would you?” Trying the innocent girly approach one more time.
“Oh I would.” He grabbed her round the neck with a fat greasy hand, and the stench of him managed to permeate her nostrils past the pain and swelling that was just starting to set in.
Velisa’s would be suitor who had decided to keep a safe distance from the affray at the start, chose that moment to step in.
“Hey,” he said. “The lady isn’t doing any harm. We were just having a quiet drink together.”
The second crony drew his own gun and pointed towards the approaching suitor who raised his hands instantly.
“Back off scumbag,” shouted the fat pirate. “This has nothing to do with you. Besides, do you really think your chivalry is going to have any effect on this piece of hermit dung?”
The fat man’s expression sudden changed to a state of shock, his breath held. He stared wide eyed into the face of the suitor who returned his gaze with puzzlement.
“He’s right you know,” said Velisa, her voice changing. “Although I don’t know any woman who wouldn’t appreciate a little chivalry, it probably won’t work on me. Besides, I can take care of myself. Also, I’m no lady.”
The frog pirate slowly turned to look downwards towards his chest, where Velisa’s hand was pressed against him.
“I would have let you get away with just a bit of a fight and some harsh language, but I was having a nice time, with someone I didn’t instantly hate. Secondly, you ruined my brand new, really expensive top and that really pisses me off.” She looked down at her hand. “You need a matching stain.”
The pirates hand dropped from Velisa’s throat and his cronies started to move round to see what was actually happening. His other hand began to lift shaking violently towards Velisa’s head and started to poke his fingers into her bright red hair, separating it more from the tie at the back. Velisa bared her teeth towards him and with sharp movement of her head, she jerked away from him and withdrew her hand revealing he source of discomfort. Protruding from the underside of her wrist-mounted, multi-function device was a thin blade about six inches long, covered in the frog man’s blood. He stared wide eyed at it, the apparent obviousness of the situation just starting to dawn on him. He looked down again at the growing stain of blood appearing in the chest of his own shirt.
“And don’t ever touch me with those fat, greasy, stinky frog hands.” Her comment raised the eyebrows of a couple of other aquatic ancestry life forms within the bar, but they quickly decided against saying anything.
The two cronies began raising their weapons towards Velisa and quickly stopped because of the sensation of a hard metal object pressing into the back of their skulls. A tall man with a face covered in hair and a split lip leaned over the first one’s shoulder and spoke closely and directly into his ear, revealing his pointed teeth.
“I really wouldn’t be so stupid as to point that thing at the mistress.” The whiskers on his face poked the crony in the ear and side of the neck making him shudder.
“That’s the kind of thing that gets a guy’s brains shot all over the wall.” A furry hand closed round his throat and claws dug in.
“Jansen. You really didn’t have to get involved you know.” Velisa smiled towards the feline mischievously and he smiled back. They’d done this routine before.
“I know mistress, but I couldn’t possibly let this one shoot you. He’s way to nice looking for that.” Jansen licked the neck in front of him with his rough tongue and clamped his large, well-built arm around him restraining him as he struggled uselessly to get free. “You ain’t going anywhere yet sweetie.” Jansen slowly took hold of the pistol being pointed at Velisa and pocketed it.
Velisa drew closer to the fat pirate frog again, staring directly into his slowly drooping eyes and he started to shake. She was amazed he’d managed to stay standing this long.
“Consider this a warning.” She looked at the two cronies in turn. “To everyone.”
Through gritted teeth, she spat the next words in his face.
“Leave me the hell alone.”
The first crony struggled again.
“If you really want to do something sweetie, go ahead,” Jansen whispered in his ear. “I wonder if she’ll just shoot you or drag you behind our ship through witchspace without an EVA suit on.” He was convinced and stayed still.
Crony number two was still holding his weapon wondering what to do.
“Is this guy ever gonna fall over?” Velisa asked, pushing the fat man in the face. He began to pitch backwards the second crony, decided he had a chance.
“You complete bit...” He just had a chance to say as his finger went to pull the trigger. A bolt of light sprung outwards from his face, splattering Velisa and some of the other patrons with his blood. He dropped to the floor, leaving a trail of smoke that ran back to the pistol of the second man stood next to Jansen. Barely a second later, the fat man finally hit the floor and rolled a little to one side with a distinct wobble.
Velisa’s face was screwed up, eyes closed against the incoming blood and gunfire. She wiped a hand down her face and blinked here eyes open, glaring at the gunman.
“Damn it Sobal. Did you have to do that?”
“I did warn them,” said Jansen. “Now where are his brains?”
“He shoot mistress.” Sobal’s voice was high-pitched and very quiet. “Cannot allow.” His grasp on common speak was not as good as Jansen but he got the point across.
“You could have warned me,” she said, wiping one eye.
“Short time. Must shoot.” Sobal holstered his weapon.
“What shall I do with this one?” Jansen pulled the only remaining member of the gang towards Velisa. She eyed him up and down.
“Not sure what makes him so pretty, but I’m only human,” she shrugged “You can have him if you want. Or just let him go.”
“Your lucky day big boy.” Jansen kissed him on the cheek, digging his claws into his neck just enough to draw a little blood and let go of him. The crony needed no further prompting, running straight out the door.
Velisa shook her head and wiped her hand under her nose again, sending a fresh bolt of pain through her face. She kicked the soles of the fat man lying in front of her.
“He broke my damn nose, that disgusting slime faced scum.”
She uselessly tried to wipe some of the mess from the front of her shirt then turned to face her would be suitor who had been slowly trying to back away the entire time.
“So,” she said smiling, “Does that offer for dinner still stand?”
He stared back at her, fear on his face, blood all over hers.
“Err... I’m not… Maybe another…” he stammered.
“Thought as much,” she said.
“Mistress.” Came a voice behind her. Jansen and Sobal were standing at each shoulder. “I really think leaving would be prudent.” Jansen said in his gravelly voice.
“Leave must. Patrons aggressive looking. Lots of.” Sobal said.
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” She nodded, and then knelt down next to the two corpses. She rummaged in the frog mans pockets, trying not to be sick. She pulled out a card, and pressed it against her wrist device.
“Credit transfer,” said the small computer voice.
“199.9 Credits,” Velisa said into it.
“What doing mistress?”
“Place thumb print.” Velisa pressed the fan man’s thumb onto her wrist device and gagged slightly when she saw the greasy fingerprint it left.
“This is a genuine Ranne Kranvech,” she said pulling at her top. “It doesn’t look like much but under certain light conditions, when you are close to a sun with the right frequency of light, it has the most amazing pattern on it. Like nothing you’ve ever seen.”
“Have you ever actually seen it?” Jansen asked.
“It’s brand new. How could I?” She tossed the card back onto the fat mans corpse. “That’s why he’s paying for a new one.”
The Night Whisper’s engines fired blasting the ship out of the station leaving behind a blood splattered bar a fair amount of worried lowlifes.
Velisa was sat in the command chair, scowling. She was wearing a different shirt, and her face was cleaned up. All that was left to give evidence of the incident in the bar was a slowly spreading bruise that started on the left side of her nose and spread across her top lip. Next to the command chair was a small bag with a gold K on the side.
“Seriously.” She said. “That guy sucker punched me.”
“Well of course he did.” Jansen’s athletic frame was lying under a control panel at the back of the command deck, tools scattered on the floor. “He was a pirate.” He slid himself out from under the console. “They’re not known to be the most honest and fair fighting people in the galaxies now are they, mistress?”
“Yes, yes.” She waved her hand dismissively at him. “Just fix the damn food dispenser. Next time I get a coffeen, I want it under 100 degrees.”
“Yes mistress,” he said and slid himself back under the console.
“And for the last time, stop calling me mistress.”
“I cannot do that mistress. You are my commander and…”
She cut him off. It was a very old argument.
“I know, I know. I’m a woman, I’m your commander, you call me mistress, that’s the way it is on your home world.” She turned the ship away from its direct course towards the planet and brought the engines up to full power. “Can’t you just call me Captain?” She pivoted the seat around towards Jansen.
“That would imply a military rank, that you do not hold mistress.”
“Just forget it.” She hit the hyperspace button and stood up from the chair, ignoring the countdown timer and picked up the top out of the bag, holding it against herself.
“I do like the way these fit. Nothing else comes close.”
She wandered to the side of the command deck, and looked into the small mirror that hung on the wall, inspecting her nose in the reflection. She pulled the tie band off and shook her bright red mass of hair out in order to re-tie it.
Being a red headed woman, gave her the usual dose of pale skin that went with it. Being out in space most of the time and rarely being in any kind of position to get a bit of colour, she was even whiter than most white skinned humans were. This had earned her the nickname of The Flame Ghost, not only for her appearance but also for her combat tactics, of seeming being able to disappear at will, during combat only to reappear in the most unexpected place and blast opponents to bits. Velisa just put down her combat tactics as being better than anyone else. They wanted to give her a scary name, more the better.
She juddered to one side slightly as the ship jumped through the wormhole and popped out the other side. She wandered back with a bored look on her face, pointed the ship towards the sun and hit the jump drive.
“Not going to the station?” Jansen asked.
“Quick top up of fuel and then on to the next system. Probably a good idea to keep out of station scanner range for a few jumps at least.”
“Precaution sensible.” Sobel said as he entered through the open door at the rear of the command deck. “Pirate grudges. Get mistress.”
“And another thing.” Jansen was on his feet this time. “Do you really think that girly innocent look is going to work? Trying to appeal to his chivalrous nature? Those concepts are long forgotten.”
“It might work on some.” She tilted her head to one side. "Back home when I was young, I once had 2 men fight a dual for my honour."
“Aquatic ancestry?” he said. “I seriously doubt that amphibians have any sense of chivalry.”
She waved him off.
“So where are we headed, mistress?”
“Isinor. Time for some easy pickings off the newbies.”
Part 2 to follow soon....