On The Imperium's Secret Service

A new idea. Comments would be welcome.


Chapter One



“Hey, bitches!”



Mariko looked up as one of the prison guards came bursting into the underground complex where they’d been held ever since they’d been arrested. She’d lost track of time as the days wore on, leaving her unsure if they’d been held for a week or much longer. The other prisoners hadn't been much help; they’d either been shipped out to start their sentences or bribed the guards enough to secure their release before they’d been willing to chat openly with the girls.



The guard leered down at her as he stopped outside her cage. It was a neat prison, she had to admit, a network of wired cages that allowed the guards to move freely without giving the prisoners a chance to plan an escape together. And even if they had managed to break out, where would they go? Mariko and Mai, her sister, both had the Japanese features that had been engineered into their line by their distant ancestors. They’d stick out like sore thumbs on Dorado and their freighter, according to the guards had been confiscated and sold for a small profit. The guards had claimed that the profits had barely been enough to pay for their stay in prison.



“The bidding war has been completed,” the guard informed her. He smiled as he heard Mai gasp from behind him. Mariko winced. Her sister was only sixteen, barely old enough to be allowed out on her own...and now she was looking at lifetime involuntary servitude as punishment for a crime she hadn't committed. “Your new owner should be along to take custody of you within the hour.”



Mariko blanched. Despite herself, she’d hoped – prayed – that there would be a way out of the trap, but nothing had ever materialised. Their father was rich enough to pay a ransom, yet there wasn't enough money in the universe to soothe the man they’d offended. And yet what else could they have done?



It had been less than six months since they’d left their homeworld and headed out to the Rim, the very outskirts of the Imperium itself. As independent freighter owners, they could hope to make a reasonable profit and perhaps even found a proper shipping line of their own, but first they had to make contacts and build a reputation. Dorado was one of the worlds which lay off most of the shipping lanes, so she’d decided that they should go and see if the world had anything to offer the rest of the sector. In hindsight, it was clear that most of the bigger shipping corporations had good reasons not to visit Dorado.



The first two days had gone well, well enough that she’d agreed to visit a nightclub near the spaceport with her sister. There, Mai had caught the attention of a half-drunk local who had tried to ply her with drink, and then, when she proved resistant, had tried to have his way with her by force. Mariko had stepped in and kicked her sister’s assailant in the groin, only to discover – too late – that the bastard had had friends. The beating they’d received had been savage, and when the local police had finally arrived they’d arrested the two sisters instead of the local youths. And then Mariko had discovered that the man she’d kicked in the groin was actually the son of one of the local aristocrats, the big men who ran the planet.



She’d tried to argue, but the local courts were as corrupt as they came. Their trial had been brief, formal and edgy; the judge had dismissed their pleas and sentenced them to involuntary servitude. Carlos – the man she’d assaulted – had watched them from the audience as sentence was passed, his eyes silently promising bloody revenge for what had happened to him. Mariko had no doubt that Carlos would win the bidding for a pair of slaves, even though slavery was technically outlawed within the Imperium, and when they fell into his hands...



It would be horrible. Of that, she had absolutely no doubts at all.



“Perhaps you should have considered entertaining us a little,” the guard said, his eyes leaving a trail of slime all over her breasts. There was no official prison uniform and so they’d been forced to wear what remained of the clothing they’d worn when they’d been arrested. It had been falling apart even then. “Some of us even considered bidding on you when the reserve price was announced.”



Mariko doubted that it would have made any difference. From what the other prisoners had said, life was cheap on Dorado. The police, who existed more to enforce the rules laid down by the wealthiest men on the planet, wouldn't have been able to do more than drive the price up a little for a matched set of exotic slave girls. They’d probably console themselves with a visit to the nearest brothel while Mariko and Mai found themselves entertaining Carlos. The guards had been quite happy to tell them all about Carlos and his tastes...and if half of them were true, Mariko knew that Mai would not survive the first night. Her sister was younger and vulnerable; she’d never even had a boyfriend before leaving their homeworld. All Mariko could do was pray that Carlos fell asleep next to her, giving her an opportunity to slit the bastard’s throat. His father would have her killed for it, but it would be worth it if she took him down first.



The guard stepped back and turned to look at Mai. Mariko’s sister had retreated into herself ever since they’d been arrested, almost as if she was in a permanent state of shock. Mariko wanted to hold her, to promise her that everything would be all right, but the guards hadn't even allowed them to share a cell. It was yet another form of torment for two prisoners who they hadn’t been allowed to touch physically. Whatever they had said, their actions suggested that they would have raped both girls if Carlos hadn't been interested in them. They’d certainly raped another female prisoner, in full view of all of the other prisoners, before taking her out of the prison to an unknown fate. But maybe even that would have been preferable to spending the rest of her life as Carlos’s slave.



She covered her eyes, allowing her long black hair to fall over her face. Coming to Dorado had been the biggest mistake of her life, she knew that now. Her ambitions had led her to overlook the signs of trouble on the planet; her determination to enjoy her life had caused her to agree to go away from the spaceport and find a place to relax. And she’d led her sister to her doom. The planet didn't even have a wormhole station that was connected to the interstellar communications network. She couldn’t send a message home begging for help.



A whimper from Mai caught her attention and she looked up. The guard was reaching through the bars, his hand clutching Mai’s breast. Mariko felt a flash of dull helpless anger even as she stumbled to her feet, trying to reach out to the guard and pull him away from her sister. The guard glanced back, smirked at her, and then moved just out of her reach. Mariko watched helplessly as he groped Mai, who seemed unable to even crawl away from him. Her sister’s spirit had been broken and it was all her fault. And there was nothing she could do to save Mai from facing a lifetime of servitude behind her.



She gritted her teeth and called out to the guard. “Let her go,” she said, trying to sound inviting. “Let her go and I’ll...I’ll suck you off.”



The guard let go of Mai at once, his hands reaching down to his pants. Mariko winced inwardly as his manhood, already hard, sprang out of confinement. He stroked it twice and then stepped towards her, inviting her to take it into his mouth. Mariko braced herself, trying not to breath, and then grabbed his testicles in both hands, hard. The guard let out a bellow of pain as she squeezed, trying her hardest to crush them before someone arrived to save her victim from his well-deserved punishment. Mariko heard the sound of footsteps just before someone struck her with a shock-rod. The guard screamed louder as Mariko let go of him and flopped to the floor, her entire body twitching with the residue of the electric shock. He had to have taken some of the shock himself. They’d certainly been in bodily contact when his comrade had zapped her.



She would have laughed as the other guards had started to work on her cell door, if it hadn't been so hard to even stutter. The guards looked merciless, even the female bitches who were often worse than the men. Their comrade had been hurt and they wanted to punish her. Even the thought of what Carlos would say, or do, in response to any visible damage wouldn't deter them. At least they were focusing on her, rather than Mai. Her sister would have a chance to recover before they turned their attention back to her. And perhaps they’d cut her throat after they’d used her, spiting Carlos at the final moment.



The first guard came into the cell, picked up Mariko’s twitching body and pushed it against the bars. She grunted in pain as he locked her hands to the metal and then started tearing at her clothes. Oddly, she felt herself growing distant from the scene in front of her, feeling more contempt than fear for the men who intended to torture and rape her. Dorado might never be a paradise, but if men like Carlos’s father and these thugs who passed for police officers and guards were removed, perhaps the ordinary human and alien citizens would have a chance at a better life. Instead, they tolerated them out of fear, or the cold knowledge that without them the aliens who worked in the plantations would turn on the humans. How could anyone consider it worth the price?



A hand touched her bared breast and she shuddered, trying not to show any sign of pain. It started to grip tightly as she closed her eyes, and then stopped. It took her a moment to realise that the other guards had fallen silent too. And then the hand fell away from her and she opened her eyes.



There was a newcomer in the underground prison. He wore the black top hat and dinner jacket of a person of true importance, a Class One Citizen from Homeworld itself. His face was handsome, almost too handsome to be real; his dark eyes seemed to flicker over her position for a moment before they narrowed in disapproval. He carried a black cane, topped with a silver bird’s head, in one hand, leaning on it in a languid pose that suggested that he'd seen it all before and he hadn't been impressed the first time. The guards stared at him, as well they might. No one on Dorado, as far as Mariko knew, would have worn such an outfit unless they were trying to pass as a Grand Senator from Homeworld. Even Carlos, for all of his local power and influence, couldn't match a Grand Senator, or even the least of their relatives. Such men had enough money to buy entire star systems.



“Good morning,” the stranger said. His voice had the aristocratic tones of Homeworld too, a slow drawl that suggested that the speaker knew himself to be the most powerful person in the room. “I came to pick up my property. I trust that I have not come too early?”



He stepped forward, the cane rapping out his footsteps on the stone floor. “What do you think you are doing to her?”



The guards looked at their chief, a man who seemed to enjoy the perks of his career as a jail supervisor. “We...we were teaching the bitch some manners,” he said, finally. Mariko had never heard someone sound so terrified before, even her mother when she’d pleaded with their father not to allow the girls to set out on their own. “She injured one of my men.”



“I did not pay fifty thousand credits for damaged goods,” the stranger said. There was something about his voice that suggested that there would be unpleasant consequences in the future. Fifty thousand credits! Mariko knew that the value of the Imperium’s Credit had been declining for centuries, but one could still buy a bulk freighter for fifty thousand credits and have spare change to hire a crew. “I am The Honourable Lord Fitzgerald d'Anconia Narragansett Grytpype-Thynne. We do not pay anything for damaged goods.”



Mariko felt her eyes widen in shock. The Grytpype-Thynne Family was a legend, one of the oldest of the families that made up the Grand Senate. There was no way to know how Lord Fitzgerald was related to the Grand Senator who headed the family, but there was no doubt that they would respond to an insult to their name. The next visitors to Dorado might be a squadron from the Imperial Navy, intent on teaching the locals some manners. It had happened before and would probably happen again.



Lord Fitzgerald glanced at her again and shook his head. Unlike the guards, he didn't seem to linger on her body. “Release her,” he ordered, “and then open her sister’s cage.”



The guard stared at him. “But they’re dangerous criminals...”



“...Who happen to be my property,” Lord Fitzgerald said, firmly. Mariko felt herself blanch inside. She was a slave now. The only good thing about it was that Lord Fitzgerald didn't seem to be Carlos. Maybe he’d decided to buy them on a lark and he’d give them their freedom sooner or later. “Release them, and then go find their property. I paid for that to be included in the auction.”



“Yes, Milord,” the guard said, and started barking orders at his subordinates. The guard Mariko had hurt was helped to his feet and dragged off to the medical bay, where he would probably be given some painkiller and told to get back to work. Dorado was not known for having a good healthcare system, unless one happened to be rich and powerful. “I’m afraid that some of their property was taken before we managed to secure their ship.”



“I’m sure it was,” Lord Fitzgerald said, dryly. The police would have gone through their property, taken anything interesting or valuable, and then shipped the rest to the prison, where the guards would see if they found anything interesting or valuable. Mariko had no idea how much of their property had survived long enough to be sold with them, but right now she found it hard to care. They wouldn't have been able to take the funds from their Imperial Credit Bank account. There would be enough there to get transport back home, if necessary. “Now, leave us.”



Mariko slumped to the floor as the handcuffs were removed, her body still tingling after she’d been shocked. Lord Fitzgerald walked over and offered her a hand, helping her to her feet, before stepping aside to allow her to hug Mai tightly. Her sister was crying openly, as if she thought that they’d been reprieved – and in a sense, they had been. Surely Lord Fitzgerald couldn't be as bad as Carlos.



“I was given to understand that you were both qualified space pilots,” Lord Fitzgerald said, after a moment. He’d been kind enough to let them hug each other before interrupting. “Is that true?”



“Yes, sir,” Mariko said. The qualifications had been why they’d been allowed to purchase a freighter and set off on their own, although on Dorado she suspected that it was easier to bribe the local Imperial Shipping Officer than actually sit for the exams. Maybe Lord Fitzgerald had had reason to distrust the local claims when he’d entered the auction. “We were both tested on Edo two years ago – our files should be accessible if you use the codes on our ID cards.”



“Which isn't actually possible on Dorado,” Lord Fitzgerald said, dryly. Mariko flushed. She should have realised that that wouldn't be immediately possible. Lord Fitzgerald might have had enough money to buy the planet and everyone on it, but he couldn't alter simple geographical realities. The nearest system with a wormhole station was twenty-three light years away. “But rest assured I will inspect them once they are back in your hands.”



He turned and led them out of the prison complex, up a long flight of stairs and into a large open room that had clearly been designated as the clearing house. Most of the guards had vanished, but two had remained to sort out the boxes containing everything they’d taken from the Happy Wanderer. Seeing the small pile of clothing and a handful of datachips made her wince. Their property had been pawed by strangers and most of the good stuff was gone.



“Here, Milord,” she said, as she recovered the wallets containing their ID cards. They, at least, were difficult to fake without causing major problems for anyone who actually tried to use them. “You should be able to check the certificates easily.”



Lord Fitzgerald nodded and pulled a reader out of his suit’s pocket. Mariko left him to it and concentrated on digging through the boxes. The searchers had had odd priorities. Some fashionable clothes from Edo had been ignored, but they’d taken all of her sexy underwear and a handful of short skirts. The strictly boring underwear she wore while in deep space had been left behind, as had her shipsuit. But Mai’s shipsuit – which was more fashionable – was gone.



“Dress quickly,” Lord Fitzgerald said. Mariko remembered their position and scrambled to put on some clothes, urging Mai to do the same. They were his slaves – and would remain that way until he let them go. No one would protect them against a Grand Senator’s family. “We have a great deal of work to do.”



But it could be worse, Mariko told herself firmly. It could be a great deal worse.

Interesting

Brutal but a promising start. Do carry on

what 'Verse is this?

Mine own. <wink>

Chris

I'm guessing that Lord Fitzgerald is working for the ISS then? It'd make a certain delicious cover - rich aristocrat who is secretely a spy and troubleshooter for the Imperium. Well, Bruce Wayne did it before

And well, if a prince can train as a helicopter gunship pilot, intent on serving in a place where he'll be Target Number One, I can well see this scenario of a minor aristocrat serving as a spy.

Chapter Two



The air was hot and muggy, smelling of burning hydrocarbons and cooking mixed together into an unpleasant stench that pervaded the capital city, but it seemed heavenly compared to the prison. They hadn’t been allowed to shower, let alone wash themselves thoroughly, and Mariko was painfully aware of her own smell. The prison had been so bad that she’d worried that they might catch something their enhanced immune systems wouldn't be able to handle. Now...



Lord Fitzgerald didn't seem to notice how badly his slave girls smelled, but Mariko knew that they couldn't go into public smelling so badly, or everyone would be staring at them. It was bad enough that they had just walked out of jail with a man wearing clothes from the heights of society...she shook her head, smiling at herself. She should be grateful that she was alive, if not free. At least they weren't being marched to face Carlos’s tender mercies.



“I think we will make a brief stop at my hotel and then go shopping,” Lord Fitzgerald said, once they had climbed into a taxi. The taxi driver seemed about to object until Lord Fitzgerald waved a sheaf of local currency under his nose. Imperial Credits from Homeworld would go a long way on a third-rate planet on the edge of the Imperium. “I trust that you have no objection?”



Mariko winced, inwardly. They were slaves, little better than the Indents who made up most of the labour force along the Rim. What would it matter if she objected? “No, Milord,” she said, glancing over at Mai. Her sister was staring at their buyer with wide admiring eyes. He’d saved them both from a fate worse than death, after all. “We do need a wash.”



The Hotel Imperial was easily the most expensive hotel on the planet. She’d looked at it, trying to determine if the exchange rate between local currency and their small collection of various other currencies made it possible for them to stay there, but it would have been too expensive before they made several other shipping runs. Lord Fitzgerald, on the other hand, would have had no problems paying for a week’s accommodation at the luxury hotel. Mariko fought down a flash of envy as the taxi stopped outside the building, allowing them to walk inside and up a flight of stairs that led to a vast suite of rooms. How could one man need all of that space? She could have landed a small freighter in his suite without scraping the walls.



“There are towels and soup in the bathroom,” Lord Fitzgerald said. He seemed oddly concerned for them, in a high-handed manner that Mariko wasn't sure she liked. Maybe he was just taking care of his investment. “Wash yourselves clean while I give your clothes to the chambermaids to wash. We can burn them once we find you some new clothes.”



“Thank you, sir,” Mai said. She started to undress right in front of him. Mariko caught her arm and dragged her towards the bathroom, hoping desperately that Lord Fitzgerald hadn't wanted a show. The guards had made it clear that slaves had no rights. Even the customary legal protections accorded to indents, protections that were often simply ignored, didn't apply to people sentenced to involuntary servitude. “Mariko...”



“We’re not safe yet,” Mariko hissed at her sister, the moment she closed the bathroom door behind them. “We don’t know what he wants, remember?”



She sighed as Mai finished undressing and stepped into the shower. Her sister was beautiful, her body showing hints of a more mature beauty to come when she finally grew up, yet she was now nothing more than a slave. And even though she wasn't a slave to Carlos, she had little hope of escape. Lord Fitzgerald could use them in any way he wanted and they would have no grounds to complain. Maybe she ought to offer to do anything he wanted, provided only that he left her sister alone. But why would he even consider making such a bargain?



Water splashed down over her as she joined her sister in the shower, using one of the sponges provided to scrub herself thoroughly. Dirt and grime seemed to cascade off her body, revealing a handful of bruises from where the guards had beaten her before they tried to rape her. Maybe Mai was right to think of Lord Fitzgerald as a kind of Prince Charming. He’d saved them from being raped and he’d asked about their piloting licences, not about how good they might be in bed. Maybe they’d find that he wasn't anything like as bad as Carlos.



Of course, that wouldn't be so difficult, she thought wryly.



***

One hour later, wearing clothes that had been cleaned by the chambermaids, they took a taxi into the richest part of Dorado City. Mariko had been entranced the first time she’d seen the city, but looking on it with vastly more cynical eyes she could see the gulf between rich and poor on the planet. There were fancy shops and restaurants for the wealthy, while the poor had to use tiny shops and small eateries set up in various alleyways. Hundreds of youths, mainly human males, wandered about aimlessly, deprived of anything productive to do with their time. The few aliens in the city kept themselves to themselves. If Edo, one of the more cosmopolitan planets in the Imperium, had been able to give birth to anti-alien riots, what would it be like on a poor planet that had little hope for the future? Carlos’s father probably used aliens as an excuse for the planet’s poor economic performance.



She frowned as she caught sight of a small convoy of vehicles passing through the town ahead of her. Policemen surrounded it, keeping the crowds back and glaring about them at anyone who seemed likely to shout abuse or hurl things. One of the local bosses, Mariko decided, moving from place to place with a police escort. They clearly knew that their position was vulnerable; there was no reason why an uprising couldn't succeed in bringing down their government. But then, why would they tolerate someone like Carlos? They had to know that sheltering a rapist wouldn’t make them popular.



But it isn't about popularity, she thought, wishing that she’d had that insight before they’d even landed on the planet. It’s about power.



The taxi stopped outside a mall and a uniformed man stepped forward, clearly hoping for a tip in exchange for helping them with their shopping. Lord Fitzgerald dismissed him and led the way into the huge shopping mall, a building that seemed to be almost deserted. Mariko couldn't understand how it was profitable; one look at the price for a new handbag almost made her faint. Only the very wealthiest of the planet’s population could afford to buy coats imported from the Core Worlds, or bags made out of skinned animals from a dozen worlds across the galaxy. The rest of the planet’s population would consider it nothing more than a mocking reminder of their own poverty.



Lord Fitzgerald led them into a small private eatery and motioned for them to sit down. A fawning waitress, wearing a uniform that exposed most of her breasts and thighs, passed them three menus, but Lord Fitzgerald merely ordered roast beef and dumplings. Mariko blinked in surprise and then ordered for herself and Mai. Roast beef was incredibly expensive on a planet that couldn't be bothered to establish a proper food production and distribution system. The prices were enough to make her blanch. They offered sushi, but back home they could have bought an entire swimming pool of fish for the same amount of cash. She ordered anyway, wondering if Lord Fitzgerald would refuse to pay, yet he said nothing. It was all petty cash to him.



“So,” Lord Fitzgerald said, as soon as the waitress had departed with their orders, “how did you end up on this planet anyway?”



Mariko sighed and began to tell him the entire story. Lord Fitzgerald was a good listener, she discovered to her surprise, and very good at asking questions to push her into revealing more than she had expected. She skimmed through her determination to earn her own place in the galaxy, just like her father, and how eventually they’d purchased a freighter and set out to earn money. It had been harder than she’d expected – and eventually they’d had a fight with the wrong person and ended up in jail. God alone knew what Carlos would do when he realised that the objects of his ire had escaped his wrath.



“A moment of carelessness,” Lord Fitzgerald said, dryly. Mariko nodded in rueful agreement. Now they were washed and dressed, the horrors of the past seemed like a distant memory, a nightmare which was long over. “But I’m sure that you will be more careful for the rest of your life.”



Mariko felt herself flush as the waitress returned with three plates of food. Of course she’d be more careful; her life was no longer her own. “I’ll do my best,” she muttered, and winced at his droll smile. He probably knew exactly what she was thinking. “What are you going to do with us?”



Lord Fitzgerald cut off a piece of beef and examined it thoughtfully before popping it into his mouth. “I thought I’d take you shopping,” he said, blandly. “You need a few sets of clothes if you’re going to be my retainers. And you will probably want to replenish the supplies you had on your ship before it was confiscated.”



“They took our ship,” Mariko said, dully. She’d fallen in love with the Happy Wanderer, ramshackle tramp freighter that she’d been. Some Captains placed security programs onboard their ships to prevent customs officers from trying to seize them for non-payment of fees, but she’d never bothered to invest in one herself. A mistake, all the more so because her ship had probably already been taken to another world. She could have ensured that the person who purchased the ship found he’d inherited something useless.



Mai looked up. “Couldn't you buy it back?”



“I’m afraid the new owner took it out-system,” Lord Fitzgerald said. He shrugged, as if it wasn't a matter of great importance. To him, it probably wasn’t a matter of great importance. He took another slice of beef and chewed it thoughtfully. “I suggest that you eat up, young ladies. The food won’t last forever.”



They’d been overcharged, Mariko decided, a few moments later. The sushi was appallingly bad, even by the standards of the cheap places she’d known as a young girl. Hell, some of them had been much better than a place that charged exorbitant rates. Dorado should have been able to afford a proper fishing industry – it wasn't as if the planetary survey report had found any good reason why fish from Homeworld couldn't be introduced into the planetary ecosystem – but instead the corruption infesting the planet had probably put anyone who tried to open a new industry out of business. Mai was devouring something made of chicken with evident enjoyment. At least one of them was going to be happy.



“I'm afraid I have business to attend to here,” Lord Fitzgerald said, when they’d finished their meal and paid the waitress. He had even added a tip, to Mariko’s surprise. Surely the roast beef hadn't been that good. “You know what you need to buy for yourselves?”



“Yes, sir,” Mariko said. She did have a good idea of what they needed, including some things she would have preferred not to have to show to Lord Fitzgerald. He would probably find them rather upsetting. “Where should we meet you afterwards?”



Lord Fitzgerald checked his watch and then nodded to himself. “I’ll meet you down in the lobby in three hours,” he said. He passed her a credit chip that made her blink in disbelief when she touched her thumb against the reader on the side. She’d never seen an unlimited credit rating before, not even from some of her father’s wealthier customers. Imperial Credits were good anywhere; they could buy everything in the store using the chip. “Just remember that you have to carry everything you buy back to the shuttle.”



He winked at them and walked off, his cane tapping against the floor. Mariko watched him go, staring at the chip as if she’d just been granted access to the Fountain of Youth, and then looked up at Mai. Her sister was definitely smitten with Lord Fitzgerald. Mariko sighed inwardly. Her sister had always been a little naive – although she hadn't been much better when she’d believed what she’d been told about Dorado. The planet’s representatives had had every reason to lie about the true state of affairs on their homeworld.



“Come on,” she said, pocketing the chip. He’d shown an astonishing amount of trust in her by giving her the chip, knowing that she could use it to book passage to the nearest world with a wormhole station. But perhaps it wasn't such a great gamble. Everything she purchased would be registered in the computer records and he could have tracked them down with ease. And there was no way that anyone would stop him from reclaiming his property. “It’s time to go shopping.”



Disdaining the two fanciest clothing stores, she led Mai into a smaller store that seemed to have more reasonable prices. Shipsuits were standardised everywhere, but she insisted on checking them all thoroughly before purchasing three pairs for herself and three pairs for Mai. Lord Fitzgerald had hinted that they would have to look nice for him and so they found a set of dresses that showed off their assets for best advantage. One of them looked uncomfortably like a wedding dress; the other two looked good enough for formal occasions, assuming that they were ever allowed to attend another formal again. Class Four Citizens – Indents – were rarely allowed to have a social life. Their owners believed that they stayed more productive without one.



Moving on to the next store, she purchased a selection of survival gear and a pair of computer readers to replace the ones that had been stolen by the policemen who had confiscated her ship. Most datachips with stored books and videos were expensive, so she limited herself to a chip containing the complete works of Darrin Webster, a former Imperial Navy officer turned writer, and a chip with a thousand historic movies, the ones produced long before the Imperium started censoring new movies. She hesitated for a long moment before picking up a pair of Mark-45 Krypton Blasters – whatever laws Dorado had on firearms ownership might refuse to allow them to buy the weapons – but the dealer didn't hesitate. The colossal mark-up on the price probably allowed him to bribe the police if they ever came around sniffing for evidence of illegal arms trading.



“We should get some of those,” Mai said. Mariko followed her gaze and winced again. Mai was pointing right towards an expensive lingerie store, with a handful of holographic models doing things that made her blush. “If we have to look nice for him...”



Mariko stared at her sister, and then realised that she might be right. Lord Fitzgerald might not be as crude as Carlos, but he’d purchased them and he’d certainly expect to get his money’s worth. Mai was a virgin, as far as Mariko knew, yet she’d come within a hairsbreadth of losing everything to a lout with more money and power than sense. No wonder she was already clinging to Lord Fitzgerald and trying to make herself look nice for him. He was the new rock of stability in her life.



Their mother had insisted that Mai was too young to set out on her own, even if she did have her elder sister taking care of her. Mariko wished, not for the first time, that she’d listened to their mother. If they’d stayed on Edo, they would never have been enslaved...but they would have been bored. Now, of course, boredom was not a problem. Boredom was good.



She allowed Mai to lead her over to the store and started trying on various outfits with the help of a pair of maids. Some of them were just too shocking, even for her; other outfits were really nothing more than overpriced nightgowns. Eventually, she selected a handful of bras and panties for herself and Mai, vetoing half of Mai’s choices. Her sister seemed to have turned into a silly girl overnight. Mariko felt another twinge of guilt to add to the problems already facing her. She had brought Mai to this world. She was to blame for her sister being molested and nearly raped by the police. And she was to blame for their current state of enslavement. All of the fancy clothes in the entire galaxy wouldn't change the fact that they were slaves, even if the chains were made of golden silk. They might never be free again.



A noise from outside brought her back to herself. All around them, the store owners were shutting up hastily, pulling down shutters and locking their doors. The maids who had been helping them looked nervous as the noise grew louder, clearly expecting them to pay quickly and then depart before the source of the noise came closer. It sounded like an angry mob shouting the same words over and over again.



“Independence! Freedom! Liberty! Independence! Freedom! Liberty!”



They took the packages from the store and headed out towards the lobby. A handful of armed security guards had already sealed the main entrance into the mall, leaving them trapped inside. Lord Fitzgerald was seated in one chair by a small cafe, drinking something from a delicate cup. He looked up at them as they arrived and motioned for them to take the other two chairs.


“You’re just in time for the show,” he said, airily. “The Secessionists are in town.”

Chapter Three



“Independence! Freedom! Liberty!”



Mariko watched in surprise as the crowd slowly came into view, marching right through the richest part of the city with a solid determination that seemed to push through all opposition. The police – and the private security guards – were fingering their weapons, but clearly unwilling to risk provoking an incident with the crowd. Not all of the crowd was even human, she said as they marched past the mall; there were at least a dozen different alien races represented in the march. But then, the Secessionist League had always pushed for alien rights as well as independence from the decaying Imperium.



She hadn't paid much attention to local politics, but she had heard of the League – and of its enemies. The League believed that the systems along the Rim were poor because their masters on Homeworld deliberately kept them poor, not least by piling crushing regulations and red-tape on any attempt to create a proper business. Meanwhile, the massive interstellar corporations, with the clout to have the Imperium’s laws rewritten in their favour, moved in and took over, exploiting the locals mercilessly. It was hard not to sympathise with the League for wanting to change the system. She’d certainly had to spend days trying to fill in the forms for ownership of her own private freighter.



On Dorado, she guessed, the League would also be pushing against the established power order, including Carlos’s father. They’d want to crack down on the League, but with so many of their own citizens joining the League a crackdown could have disastrous effects. If the entire population, human and alien, rose in revolt, they’d never be able to maintain their power. The Imperium would probably respond by dispatching a unit of Imperial Marines to restore order, but by then it would be too late for Carlos. He’d be hanging from a local lamppost when the revolution finally started.



It was nearly an hour before the last of the marchers finally walked out of sight and the mall came slowly back to life. Lord Fitzgerald sprang to his feet, paid the waiter for the tea he’d been drinking, and then studied the packages the girls were carrying before calling for another taxi. A driver appeared out of nowhere and helped them carry the packages down to the car, waiting outside the mall. Mariko wondered if she should carry the blasters before deciding that it was likely to be dangerous. Ideally, she didn't want Lord Fitzgerald to know that they had them, or the rest of the survival gear.



The car roared to life and drove out towards the spaceport, rather than the hotel. Mariko forced herself to relax as they headed out onto the highway - the one excellent road on the planet, she’d been told – and drove north. Long-standing practice kept the planetary spaceports well away from settled areas, but Dorado hadn't bothered with the standard safety precaution. A single crashing shuttle could kill hundreds of the poor people living in makeshift shacks along the road. Yesterday, while she’d been in jail, she’d almost envied them. Poor and hopeless they might have been, but at least they hadn't been in jail.



But they might as well have been, she realised, as she studied the shantytowns and saw the listless faces of the people inside. They had no jobs – and no hopes of getting them. Their lives depended upon the food they could beg, borrow or steal from their social inferiors. She found it easy to believe that most of them would become criminals or prostitutes as they grew older, no matter how horrid the concept seemed to her. They had no other hope of survival.



On Edo, there were at least some jobs being created and educational systems to prepare children for a career in the Imperium. But on Dorado...there was no hope. How could there have been when the people in charge wanted to keep their boots firmly pressed down upon their people’s throat? Educated citizens often became discontented citizens.



The spaceport was surrounded by armed guards, twice as many as she remembered seeing the last time they’d left the spaceport. Lord Fitzgerald spoke briefly to one of the guards and he waved them through without checking their paperwork or even their ID cards. Mariko felt a tear welling at her eye as they drove into the spaceport itself and stopped outside one of the sealed hangers. She’d been an independent trader-captain. Now she was little more than a slave to a man she barely knew. She looked over at Lord Fitzgerald and saw him looking back at her, his bright eyes intent on...something. He’d been privately evaluating her, she realised, and shivered inside. She was nothing more than his property now.



Lord Fitzgerald climbed out of the taxi and pressed a key-card against the hanger door. It hissed open, revealing a modern shuttle sitting inside, ready to launch through the hatch in the roof. Dorado was too poor to afford the force fields that other spaceports used to protect shuttles and starships from the weather, even though most spacefaring craft would hardly be damaged by a downpour from high above. Instead, they used solid hangers, making it far harder for anyone to take off without paying the proper landing fees. Mariko had discovered, the hard way, that everything came with a charge. They’d even tried to charge her for disposing of her ship’s waste.



“Wow,” Mai said. “Are you going to let us fly that?”



Lord Fitzgerald smiled indulgently. “Of course,” he said. “She is a beauty, isn’t she?”



Mariko couldn't disagree. The shuttle was a long thin craft, easily capable of carrying the three of them and their packages to orbit. It even looked new, as if Lord Fitzgerald had bought it only yesterday. Mariko was experienced enough to spot the subtle signs that the craft was much older than it looked, but even so...Mai had always been the one to love riding shuttles, as opposed to flying starships, yet Mariko found herself wondering if she would wind up competing with her sister over flying rights. And yet it was great to see her sister slowly coming back to normal.



A trio of workers helped them load the shuttle, accepted a tip as though it was their due, and then departed as the hatch overhead slowly hissed open. Lord Fitzgerald sat down in the pilot’s seat, tapped a command into the autopilot, and then stepped back to allow the computers to bring the engines online. Mariko stared at him, unable to understand how someone could own such a craft without learning to fly it. There were millions – probably billions – of people across the Imperium who would have sold their souls for such a shuttlecraft, something they could fly right across their star system if they chose. Why would Lord Fitzgerald not know how to fly it?



She hesitated, and then asked. “I have people to do that for me,” Lord Fitzgerald said, grandly. “Unfortunately, my last pilot suffered an accident on this planet and I needed a replacement. Luckily, I heard about you two and decided that you were worth gambling on.”



The shuttle slowly rose into the air as the autopilot brought the thrusters online. Mariko had never seen a computer intelligent enough to fly a shuttle on its own, even unimaginatively. There were harrowing horror stories shared among pilots of what happened when the computers were trusted too much, even computer systems that were supposed to be the best of the best. Computers simply didn't have the intuition of a human pilot, or the willingness to cut corners and safety regulations where necessary. And they might believe what they were being told by the ATC system until it was too late.



But there was little flying through the sky to worry about, she told herself firmly. She still felt nervous until the shuttle had cleared the atmosphere and started to head outwards, towards the holding orbits favoured by starships on brief visits to friendly worlds. Dorado didn't have many ships in orbit, but she was surprised to notice a pair of bulk freighters and a converted light cruiser that was probably a pirate ship. No one on the planet below would question the origin of any cheap goods that happened to be put on offer, even if they were still covered in blood.



A single starship, occupying an orbit of its own, slowly came into view through the shuttle’s cockpit. Mariko felt another twinge of envy as the starship took on shape and form; a flattened arrowhead, painted a glowing white and gold. She was easily sixty meters long, with two stubby wings that probably doubled as phase drive generators and nacelles, her hull smoothed in a manner that no military or commercial ship would have matched. Her ship, wherever she was, had been a blocky ugly brick; this ship was almost beautiful. And they were expected to fly it for a man too stupid to learn to fly it for himself? How could anyone not learn how to fly their own ship?



Surprisingly, there was a second shuttle docked under the port wing; a classical assault shuttle design dating back several hundred years. The Imperial Navy had withdrawn them from service long ago, selling off their remaining shuttles to private interests. Hundreds of them had ended up on the Rim, being used by traders, smugglers and pirates alike. Mariko had even planned to get one for the Happy Wanderer once they stuck it big. Now...now they would be forever passengers on someone else’s ship, even if they were the pilots.



The shuttle altered course and came up under the starboard wing, docking with a gentle thud that ran through the ship. Mariko was impressed to note that the artificial gravity didn't even fluctuate as the shuttle matched its fields with the starship. A moment later, the hatch hissed open and Lord Fitzgerald led the way into his ship. Mariko opened her mouth to ask what the ship was called and then stopped when she saw the name, carved neatly into the wooden panelling covering the bulkhead. Bruce Wayne.



“Bruce Wayne?” She repeated. “Who was Bruce Wayne?”



“An old hero of mine,” Lord Fitzgerald said. He didn't seem offended by the question, or by her ignorance. “There was a fashion for naming private spaceships rather silly things in High Society. I decided to name my ship after one of my heroes instead. It is definitely better than Sticky Fingers or Pretty Mouth.” He chuckled as he led them up a set of recessed stairs and onto the next deck. “Do you both want to share a cabin or have your own individual cabins?”



“Share,” Mariko said.



“Separate,” Mai said, at the same time.



Lord Fitzgerald chuckled. “I’ll assign you to two adjoining cabins,” he said. “You don’t need to worry about water usage on this ship, so feel free to have another shower and get changed into something more suitable for ship duty. After that, meet me in my lounge so we can have a proper chat about your duties.”



One of the recessed doorways hissed open at his touch, revealing a modest-sized cabin. A ground-gripper, someone who had never left the planet that birthed them, would have been shocked at how small it was, but it was larger than Mariko had expected. There was a bed, a handful of drawers under the bed, a wardrobe for their clothes and a tiny washroom. And there was a water shower as well as the sonic showers she’d seen on other starships. Only the most luxurious of ships carried water showers.



“There’s a small set of starship plans here,” Lord Fitzgerald said, picking up a set of papers and passing them to her. “Take your time. I’ll see you when you’re ready.”



He departed, leaving the two girls staring at each other. Bruce Wayne had to be the most expensive starship Mariko had ever seen, let alone piloted. The wooden panels on the wall, concealing the metal bulkheads underneath, would cost thousands of credits alone. A brief glance at the starship plans revealed that Bruce Wayne seemed to have larger drives than would be standard in a ship of her size, at least a non-military ship. How could one person – or even both of them – handle her? Her computer systems had to be the most advanced and automated in the known galaxy.



“I think we’d better wash and dress,” Mariko said, finally. They would have time for sorting out the rest of their purchases later. The only thing she wanted to do was put the blasters in a drawer and bury them under her older clothes. “Hurry up. I don’t think we really want to keep him waiting.”



Twenty minutes later, she looked at herself in the mirror and smiled. The new shipsuit fitted perfectly, giving her some protection in case there was a disaster onboard. Anyone who wanted to qualify as a starship pilot had to know precisely what to do at all times – and which corners could not be safely cut, for any reason. It would probably take several days to grow used to flying Bruce Wayne, but they should have the time. The ship’s computers could probably throw simulations at them to give them some additional practice before something went genuinely wrong.



Mai stepped out of her cabin and struck a pose. Mariko opened her mouth to object and then closed it again. Mai’s shipsuit was at least one size too small, clinging to her body and showing off everything she had. Their mother would have taken her hairbrush or slipper to Mai’s behind for wearing something so blatantly sexual, probably giving Mariko the same treatment afterwards for letting her sister show herself off so bluntly. But what was the point of objecting now. They were slaves and all the luxury around them belonged to someone else.



Lord Fitzgerald’s cabin was on deck two, easily the largest single compartment on the ship. The first thing Mariko saw as she stepped inside was the stars hanging outside, burning relentlessly in the inky darkness of space; their light shining through a transparent panel to illuminate the bed at one end of the cabin. Mariko wasn't too surprised. It would probably be romantic to make love under the stars, if she’d gone to the bed of her own free will.



“Welcome aboard,” Lord Fitzgerald said. He’d been studying their ID cards, using a reader of a design Mariko had never seen before. The cards included their pilot licences and various other qualifications, some of which were almost meaningless. “I trust that you like your cabins?”



“Yes, Milord,” Mariko said. Lord Fitzgerald didn’t seem to have even looked at Mai, but she thought it was better that she did the talking. “Sir...exactly what will we be doing for you?”



Lord Fitzgerald grinned at her. “I need a pilot or two,” he said. “Without one, this lovely ship becomes nothing more than a very expensive space station. I am sure that such qualified pilots as yourselves will have no problems leaning how to fly Bruce Wayne.”



His expression sobered suddenly. “I understand that you did not exactly...choose to join my crew,” he said. Mariko nodded, quickly. “And I don’t think that I would get the best out of you by keeping you in bondage. So I have an offer for you.”



Mariko frowned, but said nothing. “I had to pay fifty thousand credits for buying you both out of jail – and out of your friend Carlos’s tender clutches,” he continued. “I am prepared to hire you both at a flat rate of one thousand credits per month...”



“One thousand credits...!” Mai gasped.



“One thousand credits,” Lord Fitzgerald confirmed. Mariko shared her sister’s shock. The standard rates for pilots, even on the most prestigious shipping lines, were never very much over three hundred credits per month. “I will also give you food, lodging and basic supplies as part of the arrangement. Should you wish to be free of me, you can pay back the money I spent on you and we will separate peacefully.”



But at one thousand credits a month, who would want to go? Mariko asked herself. Lord Fitzgerald had to be insane, or simply too wealthy to understand the value of money. A few years of working for him, after they had cleared their debt, would give them enough money to purchase a new freighter and start again. And if they made contacts with others who were just as wealthy and powerful as Lord Fitzgerald, they would be well-placed to start a whole new shipping line.



“Your duties will be mainly piloting,” Lord Fitzgerald said. “I may also require you to serve as escorts when I go planet-side, or accompany me on other...exclusions. Those will be completely voluntary and I will pay you a bonus for them. I trust that you find those conditions acceptable?”



Mariko found them too good to be true, but she couldn't think of any way that Lord Fitzgerald could want to trick them. He would be perfectly within his rights to insist that they worked for free; after all, they were his slaves. And yet he was offering them better wages than they could hope to find anywhere else. Mariko would put up with a great deal for one thousand credits per month.



“Perfectly acceptable,” she said, finally.



Lord Fitzgerald grinned. Perhaps he knew what she was thinking. “I will draw up the contracts then,” he said. “I suggest that you get some sleep. I am expected at Tuff within the week and the death of my last pilot has already cost me several days.”



“We need to get checked out on the ship’s computers first,” Mariko said. She wouldn't want to just take the helm without checking to make sure that she knew what she was doing first, at least unless they were under attack. “What are you going to be doing on Tuff?”



Lord Fitzgerald’s grin grew wider. “I'm going on safari,” he said. “And you can come too.”

Chapter Four



Bruce Wayne had a very odd bridge, but it took Mariko several moments to realise what was so odd about it. The designer had clearly wanted to create a bridge that would convince the ship’s owner that they were just as important as a real starship commander – and he’d done it by giving the owner a command chair and a pair of consoles, even though the owner probably didn't know anything about flying the ship. It was a waste of space, even though it looked remarkably elegant. She resisted the temptation to sit down in the command chair and instead looked down at the helm console. It was more advanced than the one on the Happy Wanderer, but it followed the same basic principles. The designer wouldn't have wanted to risk creating a completely unique ship.



Tapping the controls, she brought up the standard menu and began to work her way through it, frowning as she did so. Bruce Wayne seemed a very odd ship. She was surprisingly overpowered for her size, with engines that matched the best the Imperial Navy could produce, all so heavily automated that one person could operate the entire ship from the bridge. There was a stunning amount of redundancy built into the ship, allowing her to still slip into phase space even if one of the nacelles had been completely destroyed. She carried no obvious weapons, but her shields were tough and she could probably outrun any pirate or kidnapper intent on bagging someone related to a Grand Senator. Her hull was military-grade ablative compound, giving it a surprising amount of resistance even without her shields. It looked almost as if the designer had set out to build an unarmed gunboat.



The first simulation appeared in front of her and she began to work her way through it, biting her lip as the simulation became more and more complicated. Each simulation was intended to test the pilots to destruction, throwing more and more disasters at them as they overcame the last set of disasters. Nothing like them had ever appeared in at least five thousand years of space travel, but that wasn't the point. The point was to become intimately familiar with the starship and how it responded to different situations.



And Bruce Wayne responded magnificently. If the simulations were accurate, and she saw no reason why they wouldn't be accurate, the ship she was flying was one of the most agile starships in space. Even a military-grade gunboat would have problems keeping up with her, at least until she began to take damage. The tiny crew – Mariko and Mai were the only real crewmembers – couldn’t hope to complete repairs in time to save their ship. Bruce Wayne was so small, compared to a superdreadnaught, that even a light hit could be very dangerous, perhaps disabling the ship. And once she was disabled she would be nothing more than a sitting duck.



Eventually, she looked up at the chronometer and discovered to her surprise that two hours had passed. It hadn't felt like two hours, but then it never did. Pilots became so involved in the simulations that they never felt time passing around them. Mariko stood up, stretched a little to work the kinks out of her muscles, and walked towards the stairwell. One thing Bruce Wanye lacked was an internal transport system. She was so small that it was hardly necessary.



The ship’s interior was a surprising combination of standard and extraordinary. Deck one housed the bridge, the starship’s control systems, sickbay and a handful of other vital facilities, all automated. Mariko hoped that the auto-doctor was better than the last one she’d seen; thousands of years of development couldn't give electronic doctors the same insight as flesh-and-blood doctors. One of them had kept insisting that she was pregnant despite a scan revealing no trace of a growing child within her womb. Lord Fitzgerald might be taking a terrible risk by relying so completely upon automated systems. Mariko had some medical knowledge, as it was a legal requirement for commanding a starship, but not enough to do more than delay the end for someone who had been badly injured.



Deck two held Lord Fitzgerald’s cabin, a kitchen and dining hall and a handful of other cabins that were clearly intended for aristocratic guests. Mariko had taken a look inside one of the cabins and rolled her eyes at its grandeur, too much gold and silver for her tastes. Deck three held their cabins, various supply rooms and a small machine shop, although she couldn't imagine why Lord Fitzgerald would want a machine shop. Maybe his former pilot had been a metalworker and wanted to carry on with his hobby once he'd entered Lord Fitzgerald’s service. It seemed to be as good an explanation as any other. Deck four held the engines, some storage holds and a sealed room they had been told never to enter without permission. Given how much they were being paid, Mariko had decided to keep her curiously firmly under control.



The starship’s engines – a pair of modern fusion cores, producing more than enough power to run the entire ship at max – were housed towards the end of deck four. Mariko watched inside and smiled as she saw Mai examining the computer systems and running automated diagnostics programs. One think she didn't like about Bruce Wayne was that her engines were sealed units, impossible for the crew to open and fix. If they ran into an uncharted gravitational field in phase space they were likely to end up stranded in interstellar space, too far from an inhabited star system to signal for help. The sublight drives wouldn't be enough to save them dying a very isolated death.



“These power cores are magnificent,” Mai said. She sounded happy...and more her old self. “Do you know that we actually have four spares in the cargo holds? We may not be able to fix these designs, but we could replace them if necessary. Of course, we’d have to be sure that there was no damage to the connecting power channelling and distribution nodes...”



Mariko smiled as her sister chatted on. She’d always been more of an engineer than a pilot, once admitting to her that she would have preferred to serve on one of their father’s ships as an engineer, rather than commanding her own ship. Their mother had been horrified when Mai had dismantled the family aircar to see how it went together – and then fixed it before her father could call a qualified engineer. Privately, Mariko was much less impressed with the concept than Mai. There was no guarantee that anything that hit the drive system would only knock out the power core. Without a bigger crew, fixing all of the possible problems might be impossible.



“So,” Mai said, sitting back and grinning at her. A patch of oil had marked her face and stained her suit, but she looked happy. “What do you make of our new boss?”



“Very generous,” Mariko said. She’d seen the contracts and read through them carefully before she’d signed them, but she hadn't been able to spot any hidden surprises. Lord Fitzgerald simply didn't need to con them into anything. A quick check through the ship’s computer database had revealed that he had an expense account big enough to buy most of the sector, assuming that he could find someone willing to sell. “I think you like him far too much.”



Mai’s face changed slightly. “Why shouldn't I like him?”



“Because he’s our boss,” Mariko said. Her head was spinning slightly. Over the last two days, she’d gone from knowing that they were about to meet an awful fate to starting a new career as a wealthy aristocrat’s private pilots. “And because he’s probably at least twice your age.”



“But does it matter?” Mai asked. “Mother always said that we should marry older men.”



Mariko bit down the response that came to mind. Their mother was a strict traditionalist from a family that considered its daughters little more than pawns for expanding their influence and reputation. They had taken a gamble by allowing one of their daughters to marry an up-and-coming tradesman, but it had paid off for them. Until, of course, they found out that their grandchildren had effectively become slaves.



“I don’t think he’d be interested in marriage,” Mariko said, finally. “I think it’s time you started to work on the simulations on the bridge.”



“I suppose,” Mai said, reluctantly. She needed to be checked out on the ship’s piloting systems before they left orbit. Lord Fitzgerald had told them that he wanted to leave as soon as they felt comfortable piloting his ship to the point where she could slip into phase space. “And what if he expresses an interest in me?”



Mariko tried to think of an answer and gave up. There was nothing she could say.



***

“We’re ready to go, Milord,” Mariko said. Lord Fitzgerald had been in his cabin during the hours the girls had spent learning how to fly his ship. It was so simple that she couldn't understand why he hadn't bothered to learn himself. What would happen to him if there was an accident and both of his pilots ended up dead? “I request permission to take us out of orbit.”



“Granted,” Lord Fitzgerald said. He didn't sound concerned. “Do you want me on the bridge?”



The honest answer to that was no, but Mariko wasn’t sure if that was a good answer. “If you want to watch, come onto the bridge,” she said. “If not, there shouldn't be any problems down here.”



“I shall stay here,” Lord Fitzgerald said. “Make sure you get some sleep once the ship is in phase space. Tuff is not a very relaxing planet.”



Mariko nodded and returned to the bridge. One advantage of being in orbit around Dorado was that it had almost no system in place to control the movements of orbiting systems. A handful of low-orbit automated weapons platforms and a couple of cutters so old that they looked to be pre-Imperium weren't enough to protect the planet if someone nasty came calling, or stop Bruce Wayne from leaving orbit if she chose. Mariko sent a burst transmission to the OTC anyway and closed the channel without giving them time to respond.



“Naughty,” Mai observed, from her console. “Shouldn’t you wait for an acknowledgement?”



“No,” Mariko said, as Bruce Wayne came to life under her hands. The starship was soon throbbing with more power than Happy Wanderer had ever enjoyed, although their old freighter had been a bulky brick with over four times the mass of Bruce Wayne. She ran her hand down the list of commands that activated the drive completely, removing the interlocks that prevented the drive from coming to life accidentally. “Let’s go, shall we?”



There was always something different about actually flying a starship, instead of working a simulation. Mariko felt the ship shivering under her as she took direct control and started to navigate a path out of orbit and up towards the phase limit at the edge of the planet’s gravity field. Bruce Wayne seemed to be more frisky than any other ship she’d flown, almost as if she was pushing her pilot to go faster. The hum of the drives grew louder as more power flooded into them, generating a drive field that pushed them forward. Mariko found herself grinning as Dorado retreated behind them, leaving Carlos and his men to enjoy their lives of wealth and power on a godforsaken world. Who knew? Maybe the march they’d seen was merely the beginning of an uprising that would leave Dorado’s established power structure in ruins.



“The drives are handling well,” Mai said, thoughtfully. “Power curves are nominal; little feedback... Hell, if I didn't know better, I’d say that there was almost no feedback. Whoever designed these systems knew what they were doing.”



Mariko nodded. Drive field generators always produced feedback, feedback which wore away at the generators and eventually forced them to be replaced completely. Most of his basic maintenance classes had been focused on preventive measures that saved the cost of replacing the generator. But Bruce Wayne seemed to be advanced enough to minimise the effects of feedback. She’d heard rumours about such generators, but the costs mentioned had been so high as to make them prohibitively expensive for almost everyone. Lord Fitzgerald, clearly, could afford almost anything. Just how rich was his family?



She shook her head a moment later. A Grand Family’s wealth was almost impossible to describe in simple terms. They’d have vast fortunes, but they’d also have corporate stocks and shares, massive patronage networks and thousands upon thousands of people who owed them a favour or two. Turning back to the helm console, she activated the gravitational reader and studied the hazy line that marked the edge of the planet’s gravitational field. They would cross it in less than five minutes.



“Check the phase drive,” she ordered. They’d both already tested it twice, but they hadn't been running the sublight drives at the time. “Is it still ready to go?”



“Yes,” Mai said, flatly. She was never happy when her sister questioned her competence. “The phase drive looks ready for instant activation and transit into phase space.”



“Good,” Mariko said, deciding not to make an issue of it. The hazy line came closer and closer...and then they slipped across it. “Prepare for activation in ten, nine, eight...”



A deeper hum ran through the ship as the phase drive came online and powered up. “Ready,” Mai said. “...Two, one...now!”



The stars in front of them seemed to twist into a whirling spiral of light and then wink out altogether, leaving nothing but the omnipresent darkness of phase space. Bruce Wayne had effectively created a pocket dimension around itself that would allow her to travel faster than light. A timer started counting down to the moment when the pocket dimension would collapse, returning her to normal space in another star system. Four days, seven hours and twenty-one minutes. Unless, of course, a pirate managed to track her course and set up an artificial gravity well in her path...



“See,” Mai said. “I told you that the phase drive was working.”



The intercom beeped before Mariko could come up with a response. “Well done, both of you,” Lord Fitzgerald said. Mariko was tempted to point out that it was easy to fly a ship as advanced as Bruce Wayne, but kept it to herself. “Please would both of you join me for dinner now?”



“Of course,” Mariko said. It wasn't as if they had a choice. “We’ll just check the drives and everything and then come join you.”



***

Happy Wanderer hadn't had a real kitchen; they’d had to make do with pre-packaged meals they’d purchased at military surplus stores. Bruce Wayne did have a real kitchen, but it was evident that Lord Fitzgerald didn't know how to use it either. Mariko couldn't understand why he hadn't brought along more staff members, even as she decided to simply heat up a packet of foodstuffs that Lord Fitzgerald had picked up from somewhere. They were pilots, not cooks. She knew better than to claim that she could cook when the best she could do was boil water and make coffee.



“Food isn't so important on this ship,” Lord Fitzgerald explained. For all of his chatter, he seemed oddly diffident when it came to talking about himself. But if he was ashamed of his own uselessness, why didn't he take lessons in piloting his ship, or cooking for himself? “I used to serve in the Grenadier Guards. Their cooking was appalling.”



Mariko blinked in surprise. It seemed unlikely that Lord Fitzgerald had served in any military unit, certainly not one of the elite. And even if he had, surely he would have taken his own staff with him when he’d transferred...no, she didn't think that she believed him. He was just trying to impress them.



But Mai seemed fooled. “Why didn’t you get them to cook better food?”



“It turned out that a consortium of senior officers were conspiring to use the food allowances they’d been set by their superiors to enrich themselves instead of feeding their men,” Lord Fitzgerald said. “They bought the cheapest food they could find for the soldiers and pocketed the difference. The Guards were on the brink of mutiny when they got their latest unqualified commanding officer whose parents had purchased his commission. Me. It took me several weeks to work out what was happening and then I made a stink about it. But the conspirators had some highly-placed allies who were draining the military of its funding and a couple of them managed to frame me as being involved with the thieves.”



He shrugged. “So I got given a choice between resigning my commission and taking a long vacation or being the star attraction at a drumhead court martial. I thought about it for a few minutes, managed to secure the dismissal of the worst offenders and then resigned and went off on Bruce Wayne. And then eventually I ended up at Dorado.”



Mariko took a bite of what tasted roughly like chicken and considered. Could the story be true? But surely anyone who had had any military experience would know more than Lord Fitzgerald?



The conversation went on and on into the night. Mai listened to everything Lord Fitzgerald said and seemed to believe him, while telling him everything about their own family. Mariko could believe that their mother would be overjoyed at the thought of linking their family to a Grand Senator’s, even though it was unlikely ever to happen. Lord Fitzgerald merely smiled and listened indulgently as Mai chatted on, before eventually rising to his feet and dismissing them. They all needed sleep before starting the promised training sessions on the holographic creator.



“Good night,” he said, as he left the kitchen. “Don’t forget to turn off the lights after you go to bed.”



Mai was still chuckling at the weak joke twenty minutes later.

Not sure why you italicized times in "Four times the mass of the Bruce Wayne".

Roughly how much is a credit worth? I mean, I make a thousand dollars a month, and that's a part-time warehouse job.

Considering that your talking about Mariko I think you meant 'her' here.

What? This isn't James Bond in 40K? I feel so deceived

That said, this is definitely interesting in its own right. Obviously, he just told them a cover story. I wonder how much of it is true? Wait, stupid question: it's right there in the name Bruce Wayne.

DOH! Thank you

Chris

Chapter Five



Galactic Standard Time was an illusion, one fostered by an Imperium that liked to believe that everything of importance marched to Homeworld’s drum. Most starships operated according to the local time of their destination, allowing their crew and passengers to become accustomed to the environment without suffering starship lag. Lord Fitzgerald had altered the ship’s clocks to follow Tuff’s local time, but it still felt like local night to Mariko. It was local night on the planet they’d left behind.



She lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Their lives had changed overnight, from prisoners and slaves to...employees of a wandering aristocrat. Part of her was unable to grasp how quickly everything had changed, even though she knew that they had good reason to be grateful. They were free, or as free as they would ever be, actually taking wages for their services. It wasn't quite the life of an independent trader she’d hoped for when they’d departed Edo, but at least they weren’t servicing Carlos. And they could eventually buy themselves free and purchase another starship.



But she was worried, more worried than she wanted to admit, about Mai. Her sister seemed to have changed during their time in jail, clinging to Lord Fitzgerald as if he was their saviour – and indeed, he had been their saviour. Mariko had had her own crushes when she’d been younger and she knew how easy it was to delude oneself into believing that one’s affection was returned, but it might be dangerous to start any romance with Lord Fitzgerald. Mai had followed their mother in reading all the social news from Homeworld, including hundreds of carefully-written articles praising the Imperium’s aristocracy. She might believe that Lord Fitzgerald was a Prince Charming in truth. Mariko, a little older and a little wiser, knew better. Lord Fitzgerald might use Mai and then discard her, as so many other aristocrats had done to their young lovers. Mariko would have understood if a romance came to its end; Mai was too young to understand that certain romances were doomed from the start. Lord Fitzgerald would eventually be expected to have children and a Class Two Citizen, assuming that they were still considered Class Two, would not be a suitable mother.



Shaking her head, she stood up and picked up her nightgown. One thing her father had taught her, more than once, was that if she had good reason to fear something, it was better to confront it directly. Plain speaking, he’d said, was easier to understand than anything else, even if it did sometimes cause offense. And that was most important of all when discussing marriage agreements. Mariko knew that he’d rejected no less than three suitors for her hand because they hadn’t been blunt enough to suit him. And because they didn’t bring anything he wanted or needed to the family.



Donning the nightgown, she stepped out of her cabin and into the darkened corridors. The lights came on automatically, illuminating the wooden panelling and giving the whole ship a faintly spooky atmosphere. It was possible to fly an advanced starship with one or two crewmembers, but it left the ship feeling isolated, almost abandoned. Mariko had never had any problems onboard the Happy Wanderer, yet Bruce Wayne seemed to feel almost haunted. Perhaps it was the ghost of Lord Fitzgerald’s dead pilot, she told herself; Lord Fitzgerald hadn't been very clear on how he’d died. Cursing under her breath, she walked up to deck two, tapped a computer to check the status of the phase drive, and then stopped outside Lord Fitzgerald’s door. She hesitated, just long enough to curse herself for her own cowardice, and pressed her hand against the door chime. There was a long pause and then it hissed open, revealing a fully-lighted cabin. Lord Fitzgerald sat in an armchair, reading a datapad. He looked up at her as she entered his cabin and smiled.



“Can’t sleep?”



“No, Milord,” Mariko admitted, feeling herself flush. She was tired, and she knew that she needed to sleep before they started running more simulations tomorrow, but she also felt too keyed up to sleep. “I wanted to talk to you.”



“Draw some hot milk from the producer,” Lord Fitzgerald said, waving towards a small drinks machine set into the nearest bulkhead. Mariko had seen a small collection of expensive wines and other drinks in the kitchen, but it seemed that Lord Fitzgerald was not in the habit of drinking to excess. There certainly didn't seem to be any alcohol in his cabin. “And then have a seat and talk to me.”



He put the datapad aside, blanking the screen first, and looked up at her expectantly. Mariko wondered if he’d been accessing porn or something else he would have preferred not to share with anyone else, but there was no way to know. Besides, she wasn't sure that she wanted to know. Lord Fitzgerald seemed more of a decent aristocratic fop than anything else. Or perhaps not. He was wearing a pair of tight pyjamas and it was alarmingly clear that he was stronger physically than she had expected. It might have been the product of the body shops, or genetic modification like her own, but it was still surprising. She hadn’t seen him lift anything heavier than a knife and fork.



Mariko settled down and studied him for a long moment, trying to decide what to say. She knew how to bargain with other traders, or planet-side shipping agents, but she’d never had to broach such a delicate subject with anyone. The hot milk tasted good in her mouth, good enough to make her feel like yawning. Lord Fitzgerald merely watched her and waited patiently for her to speak. Unlike some of the spoiled children she’d known from Edo, he seemed perfectly capable of waiting without becoming impatient.



“I need to talk to you,” she said, finally. Lord Fitzgerald nodded, his lips twitching into a very brief smile before fading back into a droll blandness that seemed almost mocking. “It’s about Mai, my sister.”



Lord Fitzgerald lifted a single eyebrow and waited. “She...she has a crush on you,” Mariko said, stumbling over the words. She sounded absurd, she knew, and yet she couldn't think of anything better to say. “Please don’t act on it. I...”



She broke off. “Speak freely,” Lord Fitzgerald said, dryly. “I have learned the hard way to listen to truth when I hear it.”



Mariko flushed, remembering his story about brief military service. Maybe there had been some truth in it after all. “My sister is young,” she said. “She doesn't know the universe as well as I do.”



“Why, you sage old thing,” Lord Fitzgerald said. It took Mariko a moment to realise that she was being teased. “I hope that you have learned a few things from winding up in jail on one of the most corrupt planets in the sector?”



“Yes, Milord,” Mariko said, feeling her flush deepen. “Look, it’s like this. I don’t want you to sleep with my sister.”



Lord Fitzgerald looked mystified. “Surely that’s up to her,” he said, after a moment. He sounded as if he didn't quite understand what she was saying. “And me, of course.”



Mariko took a breath. “You’re a young man with a young man’s desires,” she said, although in truth she wasn’t sure how old Lord Fitzgerald actually was. The records she’d pulled from the starship’s database hadn't been very clear, probably because the aristocracy preferred to keep biographical details to a bare minimum. Lord Fitzgerald could have been much older than her, using rejuvenation therapy to remain young and physically fit. “You have to be attracted to her.”



“Perhaps,” Lord Fitzgerald said, vaguely. He looked at her sharply, his eyes suddenly narrowing. “Speak freely. What are you trying to say?”



“I will do anything with you,” Mariko said, feeling sweat trickling down her back. Every other boy she’d dated, and allowed into her bed, had been on the same level as herself. Lord Fitzgerald, on the other hand, was very much her social superior. “Whatever you want, no matter how disgusting, I will do it. Just please don’t take Mai into your bed.”



Lord Fitzgerald grinned, looking oddly boyish in the light. “And what if I take her on the bridge instead?”



“Anywhere,” Mariko said, trying to cover her embarrassment with anger. “You can have me, willingly, anywhere you want, as long as you don’t touch her.”



There was a long pause as Lord Fitzgerald studied her. “I do not intend to touch your sister,” he said, finally. Mariko had the odd impression that he was telling the truth. “She works for me, as do you. And I learned the hard way not to touch anyone who works for me.”



Mariko looked at him, wondering what had happened in the past. A maid, perhaps hired for her youth and beauty, pulled into her employer’s bed? Or perhaps one of his tutors? There was no way to know, but some of the nonsense her mother had devoured about the aristocracy suggested all kinds of perversions. Perhaps Lord Fitzgerald liked boys instead of girls. Homosexuality wasn't forbidden in the Imperium, as a general rule, yet homosexuals tended not to produce children. Lord Fitzgerald might have been exiled because he refused to take a wife and produce children with her, even through artificial insemination. The aristocracy granted its children huge freedoms, but it expected them to live up to their obligations as well.



“You can touch me,” Mariko said, knowing that she sounded desperate. “Just don’t touch her.”



“I won’t touch her,” Lord Fitzgerald said. He grinned, suddenly. “I think that you’ve been under too much stress lately. Go lie down – take a relaxant if you still can't sleep. You’ll want your wits about you tomorrow.”



He hesitated, and then smiled again. “And call me Fitz,” he added. “This ship is too small for you to keep calling me Milord.”



“Yes, my...Fitz,” Mariko said. She was still flushing from a mixture of embarrassment and relief. “I’m sorry for troubling you.”



“It’s no trouble,” Lord Fitzgerald...Fitz...assured her. “But do get some sleep. You’ll feel much better in the morning.”



He stood up, helped her to her feet and winked at her. On impulse, Mariko gave him a hug, curious to know how he would respond. He seemed surprised and then embraced her, almost like a brother would embrace a sister. And then he helped her to the door and waved goodbye. Shaking her head, Mariko walked back to her cabin and shut the door behind her. A moment later, she was in bed and trying to sleep again.



***

“Hunting is one of the great sports,” Fitz said, the following morning. They’d shared breakfast in the dining room, checked out the ship’s systems, and then gathered in the small holochamber. “Some of the beasts are incredibly dangerous and have been known to kill hunters who think that they’re smarter than the dumb animal. I’ve lost a couple of friends to animals they held in absolute contempt.”



He shook his head as he opened the ship’s weapon’s locker. Mariko felt her eyes open wide with surprise as she took in the collection of hunting rifles, assault rifles, handheld pistols and other weapons, including a handful she didn't recognise. The Imperium had strict laws on transporting weapons from world to world, although Fitz would probably be considered immune from prosecution. Besides, the laws simply didn't work very well. Along the Rim, having a gun in the house could make the difference between a settler surviving an alien attack or dying on a world thousands of light years from Homeworld. There were more illegal weapons drifting around the Rim than there were planets in the galaxy.



“This is a basic hunting rifle,” he said, plucking one of the weapons off the rack and cocking it with easy skill. “It is designed to kill a charging animal before it can trample you into the dirt, assuming that you can get a shot off in time. I’ve hidden in trees and sniped wild animals from a distance, or gone on walking tours where we shot at everything that moved. Have you ever used a rifle before?”



Mariko hesitated, and then nodded. Spacers were expected to know the basics, even if they didn't all carry weapons. Pirates were no respecters of merchant shipping and being able to fight back might have made the difference between survival and death. The hunting rifle looked more dangerous than the rifles she’d fired to prove she’d mastered the skills, but the basic principles seemed the same. Fitz passed it to her and she clicked the safety off, then on again, her tutor’s words echoing through her head. Never take anything for granted when a weapon is involved.



“This is a single-shot weapon,” Fitz observed. “Multiple-shot weapons are considered cheating, even when you’re being chased by a Raptor with bad intentions. The bullets are designed to inflict as much damage as possible on their target in the hopes that trauma will help stun the beast even if it isn't killed outright. If you take off the butt and replace it with this” – he passed her a heavy clip – “you can use it in the simulator, simulating bullets.”



He keyed a command into a console and activated the holochamber. They were suddenly standing in the middle of a desert, looking around them nervously. Two moons were rising in the far distance, even through the sun was blazing down from high overhead. Mariko had seen worlds with multiple moons before – they were very common – but this was something different. The world itself had been shaped to be exotic.



A shape flickered at the corner of her eyes and then vanished. She turned, staring into the distance, but saw nothing apart from the haze. And then something moved again, racing towards them with blinding speed. It was moving so fast that she could barely get an impression of more than its size, just before it leapt up and lunged at her. Sharp teeth glimmered in front of her just before the illusion passed right through her.



“If that had been a real Roadrunner, you’d be dead,” Fitz observed. He sounded oddly amused by her fake death. “They move with terrifying speed; I saw one once run down a man wearing powered combat armour. Maybe not quite as dangerous as the Mimic, or the Evolved Saurian, but quite dangerous enough.”



Mai caught her breath. “You mean that Mimics are real?” She asked. “I always thought that they were a myth...”



“They’re real enough,” Fitz assured her. “But we won’t be hunting them. Far too dangerous for anyone to try to hunt a Mimic in its own territory. Even the Imperial Zoo on Homeworld refuses to keep samples of the creatures.”



He shrugged and tapped the console again. The desert vanished, to be replaced by a jungle. Mariko could hear a constant chattering in the background as the heat struck her, a sound that sent shivers running down her spine. The noise seemed to blend together into the sound of a generator, perhaps something she might use to power up a crashed system in emergencies. She couldn't think of what it could be.



“Insects,” Fitz said, when she asked. “All of them making noises constantly until it becomes one sound. The sound of the jungle...when it stops, you know you’re in trouble. And with that in mind, I suggest you look for the Chameleon.”



Mariko looked around. The jungle seemed an impassable mass of trees and creepers hanging down from high overhead. She couldn’t see how anyone could beat a path through it, at least not without powered equipment and a certain lack of concern for the environment. It was alive with activity, with thousands upon thousands of insects skimming into view and vanishing again in the trees. One tree seemed to be completely infested with thousands of ant-like creatures who marched in and out of it as if it was theirs and theirs alone.



Something went crashing through the trees in the distance and she raised the rifle, peering into the gloom. Something was moving there...or was it just her imagination? It struck her suddenly that they were standing still, making themselves targets for anything that decided to hunt them instead of being hunted, but what could they do about it? The tiny clearing seemed to be an inescapable prison. She pointed the rifle towards the half-seen shape in the gloom and then hesitated. It seemed to have gone while she was looking for it...



“A Chameleon can blend in with its surroundings,” Fitz said. He didn't seem bothered, but then he knew that it was all illusion. So did Mariko, but it still felt alarmingly real to her. Holochamber systems were rare outside the Core Worlds, even in pilot training centres. “You have to keep watching for signs of movement.”



Mai looked up at him, still alarmingly worshipful. “How many of them have you killed?”



“Nine,” Fitz said. He sounded pleased with himself. “And three of them almost killed me.”



Something moved...and Mariko snapped off a shot at it. The bullet snapped through the branches and vanished into the distance. There was a flurry of motion as birds and insects scattered, hoping to escape the predatory humans, but no sign that she’d hit the Chameleon. She tried to listen, hoping to hear its footsteps, yet the sound of the living jungle drowned out its tread. And then she saw a faint shimmer right at the edge of the clearing and fired at it. Something the size of a large cat hit the ground and slowly shimmered into existence.



“It’s natural camouflage is very good,” Fitz said. “When it dies, it slowly reverts to its normal appearance. You need to watch the bastards at all times.”



He grinned at them. “Do you think that you could learn to enjoy hunting?”



“I don’t know,” Mariko admitted. “It seems terribly unsporting somehow.”



Fitz laughed. “Ah, but that’s where Tuff comes in,” he said. “The animals on the planet have an excellent chance of killing you too.”

Chapter Six



“Approaching Tuff Phase Limit,” Mariko said. “Prepare to drop to sublight.”



“Preparing to drop to sublight, aye,” Mai said, from her console. Neither of them could avoid a little tension, even though Bruce Wayne’s drives had performed perfectly, better than either of them had expected. But leaving a pocket dimension, even at the projected endpoint, was always riskier than entering one. “Drive ready to disengage.”



“Disengage in ten,” Mariko ordered. She counted down the seconds to zero. “Now!”



The unearthly darkness of phase space seemed to come alive with light as they plunged back into the normal universe, heading directly for the planet ahead of them. Tuff was surrounded by starships, mostly space yachts like Bruce Wayne or interstellar passenger liners from a dozen different worlds. The Imperial Navy had installed a handful of planetary defence stations in orbit and backed them up with a small squadron of destroyers. It seemed an excessive amount of protection until Mariko realised that Fitz was hardly the only wealthy nobleman to come to Tuff on safari. They’d want some heavy protection if they were going to be slumming it along the Rim.



“OTC is hailing us,” Mai said. “They want to know who we are and what we’re doing here.”



“Shoot them our IFF and request an orbital slot,” Mariko said. Each planet had its own set of regulations about what they could and could not do in orbit. Some of them even tried to ban non-local shuttles from operating in their airspace, citing safety concerns. Mariko privately suspected that it had more to do with a determination to take every last credit from the visitors that they could. “And then download the local traffic regulations for us to study.”



“I shouldn't worry about them,” Fitz said, from the hatch. He’d changed into a safari outfit, complete with hat and gun slung over his shoulder. “They generally allow everyone to use their shuttles as long as they keep OTC updated.”



“We should check it anyway,” Mariko said. Fitz could go through life ignoring rules, but little mortals such as herself needed to obey the law. A black mark on her pilot’s licence would make it harder for her to get a job in future. “They might have changed the rules since you were last here.”



“Picking up a signal,” Mai said. “It’s addressed to Lord Fitzgerald.”



“Put it through,” Fitz ordered. An image of a large woman, wearing so many jewels that Mariko couldn't understand how she could walk upright, appeared in front of them. “Lady Mary. Such a pleasure to see you again.”



Lady Mary smiled with what seemed to be genuine warmth. “Fitz,” she said. “It has been such a long time since you honoured my planet with your presence. My gamekeepers have already started driving the animals towards the hunting grounds for your entertainment.”



“That’s good to hear,” Fitz said, “but I also hoped to do some hunting as well as shooting.”



Lady Mary laughed, a spine-chilling sound. “You always were a funny one,” she said. “I’m afraid that some areas have been marked as unsafe, but the rest of the planet is open to you – for a small consideration, naturally.”



“Naturally,” Fitz echoed. “We’ll be down on the planet soon enough. I look forward to meeting you again.”



Lady Mary’s image vanished from the display. “She was sent out here as punishment for some misdeed,” Fitz said, answering the question before Mariko had a chance to ask it. “I don’t know the details – I don’t know anyone who does. But she’s turned Tuff into a roaring success. All of the hunting set come here for the season and go away chattering about her hospitality.”



Mariko frowned. They’d spent four days practicing hunting and shooting in the holochamber and she’d decided that she didn't like it very much. She’d died so many times in the simulator that she rather suspected that she wouldn't last a day on the planet, where the local animals were tough and fond of eating humans. The statistics suggested that there were at least four deaths every season, all through some hunter underestimating the animal that he was hunting. And yet the hunting fraternity continued to flock to Tuff.



Harvard Tuff was one of the few names that almost everyone in the Imperium knew. He’d been a planetary engineer during the days of Emperor Montgomery, who had founded the modern Imperium five thousand years ago. Tuff had turned thousands of lifeless worlds into living space for humans, but his real dream had been to create something unique. Eventually, he’d found Tuff and started to reengineer the planet’s biosphere. It was now a rapidly shifting jungle that seemed to have taken on a life of its own.



He’d also created new species to inhabit his masterwork. Some of them had been drawn from Homeworld and remained largely unchanged, others had been radically modified or simply created from various different animal DNA spliced together in a test tube and force-grown in a cloning vat. He’d crossed the line when he’d started splicing in human DNA to give the new creatures a form of intelligence, enough to convince a reluctant Emperor to order his arrest and incarceration. By then, it had been too late. Planet Tuff had become a nightmare of competing animals struggling for dominance. Naturally, the aristocracy had turned it into a safari park for themselves. The thrill of hunting near-intelligent creatures simply couldn't be beaten.



“We’re taking up standard orbit now,” Mariko said, pulling her attention back to the console. “Do you want to take one of our shuttles?”



“We might as well,” Fitz said. He seemed oddly unconcerned by the whole affair, even though he’d been the one rhapsodizing about the wonders of hunting trips. “Make sure you download a weather report and a safe zones map from OTC. There are some places on this planet we really don’t want to crash.”



Mariko nodded. “I’ll see to it,” she said. “We’ll pack the shuttle first.”



“Bring something you can wear to a formal ball,” Fitz said. “There’s always one held on the first night. It’s very tedious for those of us who like to escape High Society, but it is the only way for Mary to catch up on news from home.”



He shrugged and headed towards the hatch. “I’ll pack my own bag,” he added. “Just make sure that you stow all of the hunting rifles onto the shuttle. And plenty of ammunition.”



***

Tuff hadn't contented himself with fiddling with the planet’s plant and animal life, Mariko realised an hour later. He’d also messed around with the planet’s weather – and done so in a way that was almost impossible to fix, even several thousand years later. The weather could change with alarming speed, moving from brilliant sunshine to rainstorms and even snow crashing out of the sky. Strong winds blew up out of nowhere and threatened to slam the shuttle into the mountains or down into the ground. There were even a handful of volcanoes belching smoke as the shuttle flew overhead, preparing for another eruption. Tuff had to have been out of his mind...



...Unless, of course, he’d actually intended to create an unstable world. There were theorists who believed that an unstable world had been the key to humanity’s development and expansion into space. Mariko had no idea if that was actually true, if only because there was very little information on what had happened to humanity before the Imperium, but it certainly sounded plausible. Tuff might have hoped that one of his creations would eventually grow into true intelligence, breaking the laws on uplifting unintelligent life forms or creating new forms of intelligent life. Or maybe he’d just been completely insane.



The jungle below seemed impassable, until they finally sighted Lady Mary’s lodge and the spaceport beside it. It was a massive complex, walled and heavily guarded, almost as if they expected someone to try to break into the complex at any time. Mariko checked the beacon from the spaceport, overrode the automatic systems that tried to take control of the descent and handled the landing herself. The sudden and violent changes in the local environment were just too unpredictable to trust an automated system to handle.



Not all of the buildings were behind the walls, she noted as they came into land. A number of small houses were outside the walls, guarded by their own handpicked guards and presumably invisible force fields to keep out unwanted guests. The documents she'd downloaded from OTC suggested that the worst nightmare on the planet was the insects, including a number that seemed to be little more than flying piranhas. They were advised to wear repelling bracelets at all times, even if they were genetically modified to be unattractive to hunting insects. Some of the insects on Tuff were supposed to be worse than the flying nightmares on Beowulf.



The shuttle touched down neatly on the hard surface. Immediately, a team of workers came forward to unload the bags. Fitz met them at the hatch, handed out a generous tip and ordered them to carry the bags to one of the outside cabins. The workers set off at once, while Fitz checked a pair of handheld pistols and passed them over to the girls. Mariko blinked in surprise at how casually he was arming them, before spotting the sign at the edge of the tiny spaceport. WARNING! DANGEROUS CRITTERS! REMAIN ARMED AT ALL TIMES.



Mai looked over at Fitz and frowned. “Do the animals sometimes get inside?”



“They’ve been known to,” Fitz said, as they scrambled out of the shuttle and closed the hatch behind them. Fitz had given them both the combination to unlock the shuttle if necessary, after paying what seemed an exorbitant price to keep the shuttle on the ground. Most of the passenger liners seemed to leave their shuttles in orbit and wait for the call before returning again to pick up the tourists. “Better to have the gun and not need than to not have it and need it.”



The heat struck them as soon as they emerged from under the force field blanket protecting the spaceport. Tuff was hot, hotter than any other world she’d experienced, hot enough to leave sweat trickling down her back. The workers, who all seemed to be better paid than typical Indents, wore shorts and shirts. Some of the women didn't even seem to wear bras, leaving their shirts clinging to their bodies. It might have been deliberate, Mariko realised; they could attract a sugar daddy and take as much of his money as they could. Fitz didn’t seem to be impressed, but she was starting to see that he wasn't often impressed by anything. There were depths to him that were very well hidden.



They passed through a security check and into the main complex, looking down at a swimming pool crammed with visitors. Some of them were swimming naked, showing off their bodies to all and sundry; others were merely tanning themselves on the edge of the pool. One of the girls, Mariko saw, was actually an aristocrat, with features that were easy enough to identify. The Apteryx Clan was famous for their noses, which they had engineered into their family’s dominant genes. Perhaps she was merely relaxing while her father hunted wild game.



A number of younger children were clustered around an arcade, supervised by older children who were clearly resentful of their task, even if they were being paid for it. Some of their toys made Mariko flush with envy; she’d never seen anyone flying in a tiny aeroplane until she’d come to Tuff. She would have loved such a toy as a child, but she didn't know if they were on sale anywhere – and if they were, they would have been hideously expensive. A handful of children even had engineered gills, allowing them to swim underwater indefinitely, something that she’d only seen before on people engineered to live on water worlds. Body-altering wasn't something to be used lightly and yet these people did...



“The very rich,” she muttered, “are different.”



“Yes,” Fitz agreed. Mariko hadn't even realised that he could hear her. “They have more money.”



The centre of the complex was a towering mansion, built in a style that matched the holiday homes on Homeworld. Fitz led them inside, nodding politely to a handful of people he knew, and walked right into a room that seemed to be a combination of office and social chamber. Lady Mary – bigger in real life than she had been on the ship’s display – rose up to greet them, holding out her arms for a hug. Fitz hugged her politely before removing his hat and gracing the other visitors with a low bow. Mariko remembered her manners and curtseyed hastily. God knew how the aristocrats would react to any hint of disrespect.



“Welcome to my home once again,” Lady Mary cooed. “You must tell me everything about your travels.”



She waved a hand imperiously and half of her audience stood up and left the room. “The last I heard, you were going to Sumter,” she added, with gentle reproof. “Did you not find it so interesting that you could send me a postcard?”



“Sumter has only one thing of great interest and I don't think they sell postcards of it,” Fitz said, which provoked a series of high-pitched giggles from Lady Mary’s cronies. “But I did visit Tyler’s Folly, Henderson’s World and Dorado. Tyler’s Folly is well worth a visit, even if the sky might come crashing down on their heads one day.”



“And who are your friends?” Lady Mary asked, changing the subject with astonishing speed. “What happened to Doug? I liked Doug.”



“Doug retired five years ago,” Fitz said, patiently. He nodded to Mariko and Mai. “These are my new retainers. I picked them up on Dorado and saved them from a little trouble.”



“Always out to save people, eh?” Lady Mary said, with another giggle. Mariko wasn't sure what to make of her. She seemed stupid, yet there was something about her that suggested that she was brighter than she seemed. But then, if she’d been exiled from Homeworld, she had to have done something truly awful. The aristocracy forgave everything up to and including incest. “I trust that they are...suitable retainers?”



“Very suitable,” Fitz assured her. “Now, I understand that you gave me the same cabin...?”



“That I did,” Lady Mary said. “And I also arranged for you to have an invite to the Welcome Ball. The Gossamer Twins are here and I believe that they are still in need of someone to escort them to the ball.”



Fitz looked pained. “They don’t have a single brain cell between them,” he said. “Look, Auntie, I honestly don’t want someone else choosing my dates.”



Lady Mary cackled. “And vetting your shags?” She asked, with a crudeness that shocked Mariko. “But you should know better by now. It is your duty to start producing the next generation of your family. Even if you are the reincarnation of the Duke of Doncaster, you still need to produce children. Close your eyes and think of your father.”



Her cronies started to laugh again. “I will certainly take your advice into consideration,” Fitz said, tightly. “When do you intend to start the safaris properly?”



“In two days,” Lady Mary said. “I had a message from Lord Luther on the last courier boat – he’s been delayed at Sumter and won’t be here for another day. I’m leaving him an additional day to be sure.”



“He probably wanted to miss the party,” Fitz said, tightly. “Quite understandable, isn't it?”



Lady Mary snorted. “You always were a funny one, Fitz,” she cackled. “Now go and see to your rooms, and then prepare for the dance. Even if you won’t escort the twins, there are plenty of other women out there who would be interested in getting to know you a little better. You’re quite the man of mystery.”



She stood up and winked at Mariko. “And you make sure that he goes to the ball,” she added. It was unmistakably an order. “I want everyone to enjoy their first night on the planet.”



“Yes, Milady,” Mariko said, quickly.



“Now go,” Lady Mary ordered. “I’ll see you all tonight.”



***

“I'm sorry about Lady Mary,” Fitz said, when they settled into the cabin. Outside the walls, the heat was stronger and seemed to pervade the entire room. The air conditioning was fighting a losing battle to keep the room liveable. “She’s always trying to influence us all from a distance.”



Mariko nodded in understanding. “Who was the Duke of Doncaster?”



“Planetary governor from two hundred years ago,” Fitz said, as he started to unpack. “He was famous for being a predatory homosexual – he had a string of lovers as long as my ship. Not actually a bad administrator until he tried to seduce the Crown Prince, who didn't approve and made his attitude clear to the Grand Senate. Doncaster was sent into exile and someone else took over his position.”



Mai looked up at him, her bright eyes wide and innocent. “Do you like men?”



“I don’t really have time for romance,” Fitz said. There was something...awkward in his tone, something that suggested that he didn't want to talk about it any further. “And besides, five minutes spent in the company of the twins is enough to turn anyone into a raving madman. The thought of having children with them...”



Mariko snickered. “Would they allow you to marry them both?”



“Right now, they just want heirs,” Fitz said, rolling his eyes. “Far too many of us are suffering the effects of too much inbreeding. We need new blood.”



He shook his head. “Wear your dresses tonight, but keep your guns where you can get to them easily,” he added. “There are dangerous creatures out there – and some of them walk on two legs. They even look human.”

Chapter Seven



“I feel strange in this outfit,” Mariko muttered. The heat seemed to have grown even stronger as the sun went down, leaving Lady Mary’s complex the only source of light on the planet’s surface. Sweat was making her entire body sheen under the light. “Why do we have to dress up for this again?”



Fitz looked at her, just enough to make her blush. “Because we are expected to look our best,” he said, with some irritation. It wasn't directed at her, but at Lady Mary. “You look good enough for me, for what it’s worth.”



Mariko flushed. She’d picked a simple blue and white dress that clung to her body without revealing much of her bare flesh. Mai had worn something similar, but altered it so that it revealed the top of her breasts to any watching eyes. They’d both woven bands into their hair so that they called attention to their pale faces, although they’d only put on minimal makeup. Fitz, as far as Mariko could tell, hadn't even seemed interested in what they wore. He wore another black suit and hat, with his cane tucked neatly into his belt. If he carried a gun, as he had advised them to do, she couldn't see where he was hiding it.



“Thank you,” she said, sourly. She had been to formal balls before, when her mother had been trying to introduce her to suitable young men, but none of them had had anyone much above her own social level. Here, she might as well be an insect for all the attention she’d get from the others at the ball. “What should we do inside?”



“Just chat to anyone interested in chatting to you, and dance,” Fitz said. “I would suggest that you don’t let any of them get too close to you. They might not have your best interests in mind.”



The sound of music grew louder as they approached Lady Mary’s mansion. Someone had opened up all the rear doors, allowing the music to drift out over the planet while the party itself spilled out into the lawn. Fitz took their arms and led them towards the stairs leading into the ballroom itself, pausing in front of a man wearing an over-decorated uniform and passing him a neat handwritten card. The man cleared his throat as he stepped to the top of the stairs and addressed the crowd below.



“The Honourable Lord Fitzgerald d'Anconia Narragansett Grytpype-Thynne, with Mariko and Mai Wakabayashi,” he said. Mariko felt herself flush and fought hard to control it. She had never had anyone announce her formally before, certainly not in front of a crowd far more aristocratic than she could ever hope to be. “Give them great honour, as they deserve.”



A number of male aristocrats raised their glasses in their direction, but apart from that there was nothing. Fitz didn't seem to be particularly offended, however; he led them down the stairs and onto the dance floor. Instantly, he was surrounded by a handful of well-wishers, some more sincere than others. He chatted briefly to them as he allowed a younger aristocrat to take Mai for a dance. The music kept playing, changing frequently, but never stopping. Some of the dancers had clearly not been fashionably late. Mariko felt her breathing grow faster as she lost sight of Mai, even though she trusted that Mai would be reasonably safe in this environment. Fitz’s reputation would protect her from serious harm.



“Come on out and dance,” Fitz said, finally separating himself from the well-wishers. A number of more senior aristocrats had already started forming small groups by the tables, taking to one another in low voices. “There isn't much else to do here.”



Fitz was a good dancer, Mai discovered with some quiet surprise. He didn't tread on her toes, nor did he try to peek down her dress while she moved. She didn't know all of the steps, but the dances were all simple and she picked them up very quickly. A couple of young women attempted to cut in and take Fitz from her, but he seemed to prefer to dance with Mariko. If the young women talked like they giggled, Mariko recognised, he might have had a point.



Eventually, Fitz grew tired and led her over to a small table. A handful of aristocrats, whose names and faces were unknown to her, came over to chat briefly to Fitz, but none of their conversations seemed to make any sense. Some of them seemed to want Fitz to support them in political deals; others just seemed inclined to have a friendly chat. But the way they talked suggested that there were hidden knives in the dark just waiting for them.



“Fitz, dear boy,” a voice said. Mariko looked up to see a handsome young man with very old eyes. “I haven’t seen you in years!”



“This is Lord Kay,” Fitz said. He hadn't introduced any of the others, suggesting that Lord Kay was more important than he seemed. “He used to be my mentor when I was a child.”



He looked up at Lord Kay and smiled. “I came here for the hunting,” he said, openly. “What did you come here for?”



“Oh, this and that,” Kay said. He sounded friendly, but his smile never touched his eyes. “I never saw the point of shooting dumb animals. It’s much more fun to shoot at people who can shoot back.”



“It’s testing yourself against the animals,” Fitz said, without apparent irritation. “Can a human, with senses that are so limited compared to a dog’s senses, shoot a wild animal before the animal gets him? Can brains and equipment make up for an animal’s natural advantages in teeth and claws? And can you trick an animal into a position for the perfect shot?”



“Seems like an excuse to play at being a great hunter,” Lord Kay snorted. He waved a hand towards the far wall, which was decorated with a number of animal heads. Some of them were alarmingly humanoid. “The man who designed this planet was mad and should have been shot as soon as he was captured.”



He nodded to Mariko and left the table. “He never approved of hunting animals,” Fitz muttered to Mariko. “But he does like hunting girls. There are always hundreds of desperate aristocratic girls at these gatherings and he wants to see how many he can lure into his bed.”



Mariko blinked in surprise. “And the girls let him have them?”



“You would be amazed how accommodating some people become when given a hint that he might take them as his wife,” Fitz said, rather cynically. “We wouldn't have half so many bastards if people like him didn’t set out to seduce people who want to be seduced.”



He looked up as Mai came over, red in the face. “He tried to put his hand down my dress,” she protested, angrily. “What sort of manners do they teach people here?”



“They teach them that they can take whatever they want,” Fitz said, as an angry-looking young man stumbled out of the crowd. He had a nasty looking bruise on his cheek where Mai had slapped him. “Ah, Sir Hugh. What can I do for you?”



Hugh was spitting with rage, much to the amusement of the rest of the crowd. “You can hand that bitch over to me for a proper whipping,” he snapped. “Doesn't she know better than to refuse...?”



“She was under strict orders to go no further than dancing,” Fitz said, in a pleasant tone that fooled no one. “I suggest that you walk away before something...unfortunate happens.”



Sir Hugh glared at him for a long moment, and then stalked off. “It’s going to be unpleasant for his people tonight,” Fitz remarked, reluctantly. He held out a hand to Mai. “Would you like to dance?”



Mariko watched them on the dance floor until another young aristocrat invited her to dance, allowing her to move from partner to partner. The aristocrats didn't seem interested in anything apart from dancing, which was something of a relief. But then, they'd know that she wasn't a noblewoman herself and couldn't really make any deals with them. By the time she returned to their table, she found herself almost enjoying the party. And then a hand tapped her on her shoulder.



“Miss Wakabayashi,” a steward said, “my mistresses would like the pleasure of your company at their table.”



He nodded towards a table on the other side of the room. Two girls, barely older than Mai, sat there. They were almost identical, with dark faces, long dark hair and wearing the same white dresses that looked almost like wedding gowns. Their faces seemed pleasant enough, but there was a look in their eyes that Mariko wasn't sure she liked. Fitz seemed to have some sense of responsibility, even if it wasn't one that she really understood. These two looked as if they enjoyed playing games purely for the hell of it.



But she didn't seem to have any choice. “I would be delighted,” she said, rising to her feet. The twins smiled at her as she walked over to them. “You wanted to speak with me?”



One of the twins smiled. “I am Clarissa and that is Marissa,” she said, indicating her sister.



“No, I am Clarissa and that is Marissa,” the other twin said. Her smile seemed slightly different, although Mariko realised that she could be exaggerating the differences between them. “You have to keep us straight in your mind.”



Mariko glanced at them. They were almost completely identical. “I think I’ll just call you both Jane,” she said, picking the most common name in the Imperium. “Would that help me to keep you straight.”



The twins burst into identical giggles. “So funny,” Marissa said. Or was it Clarissa? “Tell us about your master?”



“Lord Fitzgerald?” Mariko asked. “Why do you want me to tell you about him?”



“Because we’re interested, dummy,” Clarissa said. Her twin had another fit of the giggles. “We want to know all about him.”



Mariko understood, suddenly. The twins had to want to marry – or at least seduce – Fitz. And that bothered her for some reason. Not because she was jealous, but...why did it bother her? She looked at the girls, with their perfect faces and bodies, and understood. They looked perfect, but they were shallow, too shallow for anyone to endure for very long. Fitz had even said as much, back when he’d been talking to Lady Mary. They were just too irritating for anyone to enjoy their company. She wondered, in a fit of sudden amusement, if they giggled in bed? Or did they share their bed with a single man?



“He’s a good man,” she said, finally. And she was telling the truth. A nastier man could have taken advantage of their powerlessness, or of Mai’s crush on him. “But that’s about all I can tell you.”



“What a shame,” the girls said, in unison. “And where did you come from?”



Mariko briefly considered telling them the entire story, before dismissing the idea and cursing herself for being an idiot. She’d known enough girls like them when she'd been a little girl, growing up on Edo. Stupid, self-obsessed bitches, clinging together and stabbing their friends and enemies in the back. They simply could not – ever – be trusted. Any secrets shared with one of them would be public knowledge by the end of the day. And they would do anything to marry the right person so they didn't have to work to earn a living.



“I’m just a retainer,” she said, finally. She sighted Fitz heading back to their table with Mai in tow and stood up. “Thank you for your time.”



Fitz gave her a concerned look when she returned to their table and sat down. “Are you all right?”



“I think so,” Mariko said. Mai looked flushed, but happy. The dancing had been good for her, at least once she’d danced with someone decent. “How long do you want to stay here?”



“No longer,” Fitz said. He stood up and headed towards the open windows leading out into the lawn. “Come on; we’ll go back and get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a tedious day.”



***

He’d been right, Mariko decided, midway through their second day on the planet. There was very little to do except swim, play games or brush up on one’s hunting skills while waiting for the final guest to arrive for the safari. To add to her concerns, Fitz seemed occupied all day, leaving them to explore the complex alone and enjoy themselves. No one seemed rude enough to tell them to buzz off, but the aristocrats either ignored them or stared at them until they went away. Sir Hugh must have been busy spreading his own version of why Mai had slapped him around the complex.



The only interesting part was a long series of lectures – complete with holographic images – about the type of creatures they might encounter in the jungle and precisely how dangerous they were. Tuff had bent the laws on genetically-modifying and creating creatures right to the limit, creating several species that could actually cross-breed, producing new and interesting combinations. Some of them were large and bulky, so large that they might not realise that they had been shot even if the bullet went through the brain. Others were so fast that they were extremely difficult to see until they were already on their targets, trying to kill them. And, just as Fitz had warned, some of them looked like hairy humans, complete with disturbingly human faces. The speaker commented that it had been the neo-apes that had sealed Tuff’s fate when he’d been hauled in front of the Emperor. They were just too human to be taken lightly.



The more she heard, the less keen Mariko felt to go out on safari. Space was dangerous, and often unpredictable, but she was used to it. The jungle, on the other hand, was a vast unknown; the speaker freely admitted that they hadn't really catalogued all of Tuff’s creations, let alone the cross-breeds produced by several different origin races blended together. He’d taken samples from a hundred worlds and dropped them on his creation just to see how they’d survive and adapt to their new environment. The tiny crab-like creatures with poisonous claws, the social spiders who aggressively attacked each and every creature that entered their territory, the rock snakes from Anderson’s World...they’d all made niches for themselves on Tuff. It had become a teeming biological maelstrom of life forms, all fighting and mating with each other.



“I’m not sure that I am very keen on this either,” Mai said, when Mariko raised her concerns, “but they wouldn't really let people get hurt, would they?”



“They have,” Mariko pointed out. Since Tuff had become the greatest safari planet in the galaxy, seventy-four people – including some quite high-ranking aristocrats – had died trying to hunt the various creatures that infested the planet. There was even a joke that the monsters had become intelligent and were keeping it to themselves to lure new food packets to their planet. “I think we just have to be careful and avoid the more dangerous expeditions.”



Fitz didn't seem to agree, nor did most of the other young aristocrats. They’d signed up for safaris that would take them dangerously close to the spider cities or the steaming lava pools that apparently hid some of the planet’s nastier monsters. He didn't seem to mind that the girls were reluctant to go with them; in fact, Mariko suspected that he viewed it as a positive bonus. The real hunters would go out, leaving the more timid aristocrats behind, and they’d bring back plenty of carcasses to show off and then eat. Some of the animals on the planet were dangerously inedible, thanks to Tuff, but the remainder should be safe to eat. Mariko just hoped that the cooks knew the difference.



“Get plenty of sleep,” he advised them, after a brief dinner in the smaller dining room. He’d managed to beg out of the large dinner being hosted by Lady Mary, much to Mariko’s relief. “You will really want to be fresh for tomorrow.”



Mariko scowled. She wasn't sure that she wanted to be fresh for anything.



“Come on,” Mai said, when Mariko expressed her doubts out loud. She’d been reading about some of the more interesting exploits carried out on Tuff. “It might just be fun.”



***

Mariko lay in her bed, trying to sleep. It wasn't easy; the heat was still an omnipresent sensation, a mocking reminder that the planet was unpleasantly hot for baseline humans. Tuff might have eventually intended to engineer humans specifically for his world; certainly, it had been one of the charges levelled against him at his trial. She was still tossing and turning when she heard the noise of someone walking through the next room and opening the door. Slipping out of bed as quietly as she could, she peered into the darkness and saw Fitz’s dark form slipping into the jungle. Mariko remembered all the horror stories about what lurked inside the jungle and shivered. He had to be out of his mind. Surely no one would be insane enough to go on safari in the middle of the night.



She hesitated, and then picked up her pistol and protective bracelet, before hurrying outside and looking around for him. He was briefly visible against the jungle before he vanished, heading north towards the Lava Pools. They’d been warned that the Lava Pools were among the most dangerous parts of the planet, utterly unsuited for human exploration without proper equipment and an escort of trained specialised. And yet Fitz was going on his own! She couldn’t leave him alone, even if it risked them both being killed by the monsters lurking in the shadows.



After a moment, Mariko started to follow him into the jungle.

Excellent story so far, interesting 'Verse you have set up. I like out you've dropped glimpses at the aristocratic world contained within the story, but it doesn't feel like a data dump. The "Death world" that the characters are currently on certainly seems like a vibrant place.

Could you please increase the text size to 4 please? The formatting is difficult to read.

Yeah, this is a great story. I'm enjoying it very much.

Nice story - really enjoying it so far

I can only agree with the posts above. I enjoyed what's been posted as of now and I really like the fact your universe clearly lives beyond the on-screen characters (which is not something that a lot of authors manage to do well): side-stories could well be written.

I'll follow this thread closely.

Didn't Sir Kay raise King Arthur in english mythology?

I intend to write several books set in this universe, eventually.

I'm sorry about the text. I copy from MS Word and it always comes out black at first.

Chris

Upper left hand corner of the post box is a button that removes all formatting tags, that should help a bit. It would also bring more readers into this thread - we consider typesetting to be serious business in this forum.

Chapter Eight



Five minutes after following Fitz into the jungle, Mariko was already regretting her decision. The heat kept growing stronger and she could feel the insects buzzing around her, invisible in the darkness. Even the slight illumination provided by the first of the planet’s moons rising in the distance didn't help her to keep track of Fitz. He seemed almost invisible, moving from place to place as if he moved only when she wasn’t looking. There were clearly layers to him that he kept well hidden.



Sweat poured down her body as she heard the sounds of animals moving in the distance. Most of the dangerous animals, they had been assured at the briefing, slept in the night time, but many of the creatures they hunted were nocturnal. She found herself glancing back, only to realise that she’d completely lost track of the cabin where they’d been staying. If she turned back, there was no guarantee that she would manage to get back to safety. In hindsight, walking out in the woods alone might have been her most dangerous mistake since she’d come to the Sumter Sector – and that included fighting Carlos and his goons.



She turned...and cursed as she realised that she had lost track of Fitz. He seemed to have shimmered into the darkness, to have vanished completely. She stumbled forward, staring around her, but she saw nothing. He was gone and she was lost. She didn't even have a beacon she could use to find her way back to the cabin. At least Mai wasn't with her, she told herself as she came to a halt, trying to decide what to do. She’d be safe back at the complex even if Mariko was eaten by Tuff’s homemade monsters. Maybe she should just try to walk back or start screaming for help. But screaming would probably attract the monsters long before it attracted anyone human.



Something moved at the corner of her eye. She was still turning when a dark shape slammed into her, knocking her to the ground. Mariko would have cried out if a hand had not clamped down over her mouth, almost choking her. She tried to struggle, but her assailant knew how to hold someone down and render struggling impossible. Resistance was futile. Strong arms rolled her over and she found herself staring up at a very familiar face.



“Mariko,” Fitz said, in surprise. He didn't sound like a vain fop or playboy aristocrat, not now. “What are you doing here?”



Mariko stared up at him in shock. “I followed you,” she said, finally. No lie came to her mind that would have seemed even remotely believable. “I saw you going off into the darkness and thought I’d better go with you.”



Fitz glared down at her. “You came out into the jungle without any protection?”



Mariko nodded, shamefaced. She knew the dangers of outer space, but she didn’t quite take the dangers of the jungle seriously. Fitz wore a black outfit that allowed him to blend into the darkness and carried several weapons on his belt. He probably also had a repulsing field to keep the various animals and insects away from him. Mariko was already ruefully aware that some of the insects had decided that she tasted good enough to eat, even with the genetic modifications running through her bloodline. Tuff had probably thought that engineering a taste for human flesh into his creations would make his safari world more interesting to the aristocracy. He’d been right.



“Silly girl,” Fitz said. He rolled off her – it was curious how there hadn't been anything intimate about how he’d held her down – and climbed to his feet. “I ought to send you back to the cabin, but I bet you didn’t even bring a compass.”



“No, Milord,” Mariko admitted.



“And I can't afford to risk leaving you here to wait for me,” Fitz added, as he held out a hand to help her stand upright. “You’d better come with me, just don’t interfere or get in the way.”



He turned, without waiting for her to say anything, and led the way further into the jungle. Mariko hesitated and then followed him, finding it difficult to match his pace. She hadn't believed that he’d served in the military, still less an elite unit like the Grenadier Guards, but now she found herself wondering if there was some truth in the story after all. He was carrying more than her, and wearing an all-encompassing outfit, yet he seemed to slip through the jungle like a ghost. Maybe he’d been going on safari since he was old enough to carry a gun – the aristocracy would ignore all Imperial laws about gun ownership – or maybe he had some pretty heavy sequencing worked into his genes. The aristocracy made a big thing about being pureblood humans, but she doubted that there were any pureblood humans around these days. There were just too many advantages to modifying the genome of one’s children, even on a world that normally shunned advanced technology.



She wanted to ask him a dozen questions, but his forbidding expression kept her lips firmly closed. Time passed slowly until he finally held up a hand to stop her, just outside what looked like a natural firebreak sliced through the jungle. Or perhaps it wasn't natural at all. A closer look revealed that nothing grew in a two-metre gap between the part of the jungle they were in and a second part leading up towards the lava pools. The sky was taking on an inhumanly red tint from the volcanoes, from where the lava bubbled up to the surface. Fitz produced a tool she didn't recognise from his belt and waved it around, scanning for something. A moment later he took her arm and led her firmly across the firebreak.



It struck her at once, an unpleasant sensation vibrating down into her very bones. She wanted to turn and run, as if what lay beyond the invisible barrier was something she would never want to see. The fright she’d felt the first time she’d come face-to-face with the utterly inhuman Spiders was nothing compared to the reaction she felt as they crossed the roar. Sheer terror would have rooted her to the spot if Fitz hadn't been dragging her along; as it were, she almost managed to tear herself free and start running back towards the cabin. An eternity in a jungle filled with savage man-eating animals seemed preferable to facing whatever lay beyond the barrier. And then the sensation was gone, as if someone had simply clicked off a switch. Mariko found herself sagging to the ground, breathing heavily, her body aching worse than it had done after they’d been arrested. The repulsive sensation had vibrated through her entire body and soul.



“Standard zone of emotional repulsion,” Fitz commented. He didn't seem to have been affected, the bastard. “Anyone who brushes against the field will be gently repelled, often without realising that they have been repelled. But if you try to actually walk through the field, the sensation gets stronger and stronger until you turn and run for your life. You need special training to walk through a field without being seriously affected.”



“Training that you have,” Mariko said, between gasps. “Milord...who are you?”



“All in good time,” Fitz said. He leaned closer to her and brushed his lips against her ear. “From now on, we must be very quiet and careful. That won’t be the only security measure they set up to keep out unwanted intruders.”



Mariko wanted to ask who they were, but Fitz led the way into the jungle before she could say anything. Unlike the previous section, there were almost no animal or insect sounds in the darkness. The repulsion field would probably affect animals as well as humans, she realised, driving them out of the area in a manner they couldn't resist. But why would anyone want to seal off part of Tuff? It was an entire planet of crazy engineered plant and animal life. Outside of the hunting and shooting fraternity, she couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to live on the world. It was simply too dangerous to support a colony. There were desert or ice worlds that were more supportive of human life.



Fitz had donned a pair of goggles and was scanning from side to side, looking for signs of a second security measure. It wouldn't be something visible to unaugmented human eyes, Mariko was certain. She’d studied starship security systems during her training and while she’d never looked at any devices for use on the ground, the basic principles had to be the same. The most useful security device was one that was never seen until it was too late. She found herself glancing around, wondering if the birds or insects had been rigged out with cameras and watching sensors, Given unlimited time and money, the entire jungle could have been turned into an early warning system.



In the distance, she could hear a very faint sound, almost like people chanting. Fitz held up a hand and motioned for her to remain where she was, and then slipped off into the darkness, leaving her alone to try to figure out what she was hearing. A long moment passed when she was sure that the words were on the edge of comprehension, as if they were something that she’d heard before, only to be lost when Fitz crawled back towards her and motioned her forward. She slipped forward, moving from tree to tree, only to be surprised when she saw a small dark object affixed to one of the tree trunks. Fitz winked at her, his face visible as rays of light shone down from the moon overhead, indicating that he had disabled it.



He stopped for a moment and then motioned for her to get down on the ground, following her until they were lying together under a bush. Ahead of them, Mariko suddenly saw a dark shape gliding through the trees ahead of them. A man, carrying a gun...a watchman. She felt her heartbeat pounding so loudly that she was astonished that he couldn't hear it as he walked his lonely beat, fading away into the darkness. Fitz put one hand on her back to keep her on her hands and knees as they slide forward, seemingly unbothered by the prospect of crawling through mud. Mariko found herself wondering how they would ever explain their muddy clothes to Mai, or who would be charged with washing them after they got back to the cabin. She was sure, for some reason, that Lady Mary would not approve of Fitz’s night-time excursion. But what was she hiding on her world?



Fitz kept moving forward carefully, watching for more sentries as they approached the sound of the chanting. The patrols didn't seem to be very frequent, but there didn't seem to be any pattern to them either. It struck her that a routine patrol pattern would be easy for someone to subvert, simply by timing the sentries and slipping through the gaps in their coverage. Fitz seemed to be good at spotting them, thankfully. Mariko also suspected that Lady Mary’s guards – if they did belong to Lady Mary – would have orders to detain any intruders and then, perhaps, drop them in the lava pools. Even aristocrats died on Tuff. How many of the dead had been killed by wild animals and how many of them had stumbled across something they shouldn’t?



There was a gap in the trees up ahead. Fitz crawled towards it and peered through, and then beckoned for her to follow him. Mariko found herself staring down a cliff she hadn't even realised was there, a cliff leading down to a hollowed-out volcano that had died long ago. Someone had replaced the volcano’s stone with concrete, turning it into a training area. And hundreds of humanoids were marching across, drilling in a manner she vaguely recognised as comparable to the Civil Guards she’d seen training as a young girl. Some of them were human, others were very definitely non-human. And they were all carrying weapons.



The sight made her blanch. Everyone knew that the Imperium had imposed unity and discipline on alien races too primitive to understand the need for it, giving the aliens a place within humanity’s framework where they could live in peace. And if it demanded in return that aliens work for human masters, what did it matter compared to the prospect of peace? But some aliens were too primitive to understand the necessity of their situation and rose in revolt against their human overlords. Because they just couldn't be trusted, giving aliens weapons was utterly banned. No alien race, no matter how trusted, could be allowed human weapons. There was no way of knowing that they wouldn't end up pointed at humanity.



But the aliens below were not only armed, they were being drilled by humans! She tried to count the number of human traitors below and found it impossible. Some of them were clearly enhanced humans from the heavy-world planets, others so pureblood that they might have come directly from Homeworld itself. And they were giving aliens weapons! She shuddered as she recognised some of the weapons; HVM launchers, capable of bringing down a starship or a shuttle with a single hit, heavy plasma cannons, used only by the Imperial Marines, even a single close-in defence system, capable of shooting shuttles or orbit-dropping Marines out of the sky. There were no signs of any starships, but they wouldn't be needed, not until the army went elsewhere. They were already more than strong enough to overrun the minimal defences on Tuff.



She looked over at Fitz and saw the grim expression on his face. Another of his gadgets was in his hand, recording the entire scene below them. He looked back at her, his face grim, but somehow unsurprised. He’d suspected as much even before they landed on Tuff, she realised; he hadn't come for the safari, but to check out Lady Mary’s world. Just who was he and what did he want? Somehow, she was sure that he could have flown the Bruce Wayne on his own, without the need for a pair of pilots. But if his cover was that of a weak and useless aristocrat...



He tapped his lips, reminding her to keep silent, and then started to crawl back towards the jungle. Mariko waited until he signalled her, and then followed him, no longer concerned about the mud that covered her body. After what she’d seen, she no longer knew what to do. As pilots, they had standing orders to report any hint of alien rebellion to Imperial Intelligence – or to the local Civil Guard – but there was no Civil Guard on Tuff. And the person in charge of the planet had to be conspiring with the rebels. But why would Lady Mary risk her position for a bunch of alien scum and human traitors?



And Tuff might be an excellent place for the rebels to base themselves. Who in the Civil Guard would risk his career by investigating a world owned outright by the aristocracy? No one would want the enmity of Lady Mary’s family, even if they did manage to secure proof that Lady Mary had been working with the rebels?



“All right,” a voice said, so close to her that she almost jumped out of her skin. “Stop right there!”



A red dot of light danced between her and Fitz, warning them that the guard carried a gun with a laser targeting device. “Stand up, very slowly,” the guard ordered. “Keep your hands in the air at all times, where I can see them.”



Mariko obeyed, feeling sweat and mud trickling down her body. It crossed her mind that she had to look a ghastly sight and she almost found herself giggling. Fitz moved beside her, one hand concealing something that she prayed wouldn't be visible to the guard. There was only one guard, Mariko realised, as they turned around, a guard who didn't seem to have summoned any reinforcements. He kept his rifle moving swiftly between Fitz and herself, ready to shoot them both down instantly, if necessary. But surely his superiors would want prisoners...



“Good grief,” Fitz said, suddenly. “Look at that.”



The guard’s eyes only twitched, but it was just long enough for Fitz to hurl himself at the guard’s legs and send him tumbling to the ground. He moved so fast that he was almost a blur, suggesting that he had been augmented as well as genetically-modified. The guard let out a yelp that was hastily suppressed as Fitz pushed something against his head. He sighed and collapsed to the ground.



“Mental disruptor,” Fitz muttered, as he retrieved the guard’s weapon and placed it on his chest. “He’ll be out of it for thirty minutes...and when he wakes up he’ll have short-term memory loss. It’ll look like he fell asleep while on duty. His superiors will not be happy.”



Mariko hesitated, and then whispered back. “What if he called in before he intercepted us?”



“Then things get interesting,” Fitz admitted. He finished positioning the guard and returned the disruptor to his pocket. “Come on. We’d better get back to the cabin.”



The return trip was more of a nightmare than the trip to the hidden training camp. Mariko found herself pushed by the repulse field and Fitz had to pick her up and carry her over the firebreak before her mind stopped panicking and returned to normal. It didn't seem to have a softer setting on the way back, probably intended to keep the alien trainees from deserting if they had second thoughts about taking up arms against their human masters. After that, Fitz just walked back as if he had a GPS in his head, which he probably did. If he’d been augmented, finding his way around the planet wouldn't be a problem for him.



“So,” she said, when they reached the cabin. “What now?”



“Now?” Fitz asked. “We shower. And then we sleep.”



He made a show of checking his watch. “We only have a few hours before we’re expected to go on safari, remember?”

Is this formatting any better?

Chris

The formatting was better, but you lost the italics on 'Bruce Wayne'.