He's definitely not after us for our credits. Especially not a corsair that can afford to feed an entire score of a'ani bodyguards as well as a crew. So then…what does he want?
We're led down another hall, and at the far end of this one, double doors are flanked by uniformed, red-skinned clones. One nods at our guards and taps the door panel, then steps aside. We're then brought into a large chamber, and I stare at my surroundings in utter surprise. I expected a war room and this…looks more like a keffing fancy retreat. There's art on the walls, old paintings of important-looking nobles, tapestries from distant colonies, and a few golden-looking weapons that are clearly for show and not actual defense. In the corners of the room, expensive flowering plants curl around wrought trellises, and I swear I can hear the tinkling of a fountain somewhere. On one wall, there are several large star maps pulled up on-screen, and across from the screens there's an enormous window that looks out on deep space. Right now it's full of the V'tarrian moon's dark side, but I imagine it's a nice view most times. There are vases and books on elegant shelves, which is kind of ridiculous in a spaceship that can lose gravity control in a solar storm, and I spend a happy moment imagining those expensive vases flying through the air and landing on our captor's head. At the far end of the room, near the wall of vid-maps and star charts, is a huge desk made of impractical wood and covered in ornate carvings. It looks very heavy, very expensive, and completely ridiculous. There's a marble bust of a mesakkah lord on the desk, and it only adds to the realization that stupid amounts of credits have been spent on this male's room, a room that would be completely destroyed in a single battle.
Something tells me this lord never actually gets into fights. He just shows up and browbeats his opponents with his superior ship and masses of troops at his disposal.
Lord Straik sa'Rin stands with his back to us, gazing at one of the star charts, hands clasped just above his tail. His hair is long, which isn't surprising as most mesakkah society lords prefer that sort of thing. He turns and I'm surprised to see that he's young. Certainly younger than me, and I'm the youngest of my brothers. He looks a bit sulky, this lord, dressed entirely in black clothing with dozens of fasteners and a shoulder cape. His horns are extremely ornate, the metal tooled with intricate patterns, and he's got piercings all up one ear. His collar is high so it's impossible to tell if he has any tattoos or scars, but I suspect not. I'll eat my trou if he's seen a sniff of war.
Guess it doesn't matter if he has or not, because we're his captives now.
4
ADIRON
"So it's true that there are other mesakkah in the Slatra system." He sounds bored as he addresses us, striding forward, his hands still clasped behind his back. "You know you're not supposed to be here."
"And you are?" Mathiras shoots back, glaring at the lord.
Lord Straik scowls at my brother, his expression one of extreme distaste. I imagine his nose crinkling up like Zoey's when she smells Kaspar's boots, and smirk. "I have reason to be here," the mesakkah lord eventually states. "And your presence is affecting my business." He pauses and looks at me. “Why is this one naked?”
“That’s my business,” I quip.
Mathiras smacks me with his tail. Lord Straik just looks at me as if I’m a bug. He turns to one of his clone soldiers, and in the next moment, one of the males steps forward and wraps a towel around my hips. Guess my junk was a little offensive to high and mighty Lord Straik.
Mathiras glances over at me and Kaspar. I'm watching him and the lordling, and I don't look over at Kaspar on my other side, because I know he's shifting and flexing his wrists, trying to loosen his cuffs. I'm not too worried about our situation. This isn't the first time we've been outnumbered or taken captive, and as long as we keep our wits about us, I'm sure we'll be fine. Wits aren't my strong suit, but Mathiras is smart. He'll figure something out.
And until then, I'm kinda interested in hearing what this lordling has to say.
Mathiras eventually speaks again, drawing the attention back on himself. I flex my wrists in my cuffs, too, but all I get is shooting pain going up my arms. Ow. "I don't see how our presence affects you at all," he says. "We're not here for trading or anything of the like. We're just…pleasure cruising. Exploring."
"You started a bar fight on V'tarr Station," Lord Straik snaps back. "My invitation from the Voo Rees has been rescinded thanks to you. Another mesakkah showing up would put too much of a target on their dealings, and so I've been told to leave the system."
"Well now, that is a pickle," Mathiras says easily. "The Voo Rees, did you say?"
He doesn't look over at me, but I know what my brother's thinking. The Voo Rees is an infamous cartel that operates on the fringes of known space. I've never dealt with them, and they're just a legend to most of the universe, because they control far-flung systems that the mesakkah empire doesn't touch…places like the Slatra system.
Also, the Voo Rees are connected to the Buoyant Star, our legendary lost ship. It's rumored that there was supposed to be an utter fortune-making cargo on the Buoyant Star, heading right for the Voo Rees cartel headquarters on V'tarr, but it never made it there. What that cargo was, no one knows. But it wouldn't keep making stories circulate if it wasn't something impressive. Even if it's not, the Buoyant Star itself was a sleek, well-made vessel. If we find her, we can scrap her for parts and at least break even.
That's the theory, anyhow. Me, I'm holding out for a big payoff. If nothing else, I want an adventure out of things…and right now, it's paying off.
Lord Straik looks irritated. "It's none of your business what my connections are."
"Is that why you're here in the Slatra system? You doing their dirty work?" Mathiras is clearly trying to get under his skin, insult him. "Playing pirate?"
Straik narrows his eyes at Mathiras. "I could shove you out my airlock right now, you know. No one would be the wiser."
"Or you could turn us in to the cartel," I add helpfully.
Mathiras kicks me.
I give him a glare, because I'm helping, damn it. "What? I'm just saying." At least if he turns us in to the cartel, we're still alive. "I'd rather be cartel bait than bouncing off an asteroid."
"Or…" Mathiras drawls, glancing over at Straik. "We could tell him what we know about the Buoyant Star as collateral."
Oh. Or we could do that. "Probably a better option," I mumble.
Lord Straik stalks over to us, his black robes swirling around his legs. That's another impractical thing for space. I know the mesakkah lords prefer flowing materials and ornate robes for clothing to show how rich they are or something, but in space, clothing is best when it fits tightly. I imagine Lord Straik floating through his room of vases, his skirts above his head because his ship lost gravity, and fight back a snicker.
Everyone looks at me like I'm crazy.
Straik glares at me, then at Kaspar, who's utterly silent, and then moves to Mathiras. "Did you say the Buoyant Star?"