Contact 1955

1
I've written some stories set in this universe and put them up on Amazon for sale. But I've never done the first contact point that everything else derives from. So, here we go.

Chapter I

Galactic civilization had one unifying belief. Call it magic, will-working or any of the thousand titles it had gained over the course of history, the ability to manipulate the outer world view ritual and will was vital to civilization. Even the most primitive tribes had their own shamans and leaders who could call fire or find water— the idea that a group without these abilities could do more than starve in the wild was quite simply inconceivable. For that reason, worlds that had fallen into nullzones, regions where magic did not work or only worked sporadically, were always considered to be footnote in galactic history. The few that had been discovered after exiting the nullzones were wildernesses, with little in the way of remains from the civilizations that had once ruled them.

That was, until Terra was discovered…


The Day Everything Changed: Galactic Society and Earth.





Even in the middle of the night the streets of Sharin were busy. As the largest trade port for nearly 40 transits, Sharin never fell silent. There were always ships emerging from the silver lanes or loading cargo and passengers to embark into those same lanes. The port section of the city was even busier, with the artificial lakes designed to accept skyships mixed next to the more complex landing cradles for those ships that could not land in the water.

Among the crowds, a single cloaked figure moved purposefully, sticking to the sidewalks save for when the crowds forced her onto the roads. The paved roads were crowded with wagons, most being drawn by the local draft animals, six-legged beasts with a bad smell and worse temper to go with it. Here and there animated golems towed wagons, the use of a spirit animated device for such a mundane activity showing a certain degree of arrogance on the part of the owner. A very few wagons floated on lift crystals. Those were not for show. Lift crystals were too important and expensive to use for mere show, however wealthy the owner was.

Something nobody wants jostled, Marla thought and made certain to give them a wide birth. Whether it was a volatile cargo or an angry bound spirit in a fragile circle, she had no interest in getting close enough to get caught up in any mishaps. Granted, they were rare…but taking unnecessary changes was a bad idea.

An unnecessary chance was a chance taken when there was no potential for gain and that was a serious personal failing for a Trader, even an apprentice Trader. Marla shook her head in annoyance. Another sin, especially for an apprentice Trader, was to be late and keep her mentor waiting That was why she had worked so hard to get everything done early so she could have the time it would take to walk to his home. Making certain her rucksack was secure, she increased her pace as she headed towards Old Town.


***​


It didn’t take long for the sounds of commerce to fade behind Marla as she headed towards Old Town. When the port had first been established, nearly 500 years ago, Old Town had been a chaotic mass of hastily thrown up buildings, bars and brothels. Now, it was a network of wide streets lit by floating mage lights, the mansions of successful Traders and local elites set back from the street in a dozen different styles, each one reflecting the world the original builder had come from.

And speaking of that… Marla thought as she paused, looking at the pyramidal structure that dominated the yard facing her. Here is Mentor Savastan’s home. Slowing to a dignified pace, Marla walked up the pathway, the stones gently glowing with a white light and the air around them warmed enough to banish the growing chill of the night, stopping at the entry portal. The two animated statues that flanked it turned their bronze heads to look at her, jeweled eyes flickering with the power of the animating spirit within them.

“I am apprentice Trader Marla,” she said. For a moment, the statues remained still, considering her and more importantly verifying that the aura they had on record matched the name they had been given. Then one nodded and they returned to their former position. Marla walked past them into the home.

Once inside, the pyramid was revealed to be a large open space with shelves of books lining the walls and a open central core extending up to the transparent tip of the pyramid where Savastan slept. Marla knew that Savastan’s quarters were actually quite spartan, the saurian preferring to spend much of his time in the central room.

In fact… There was Savastan, the saurian’s large form sitting on one of the flexible leather hassocks that served as chairs. Marla walked up and stopped a respectful distance behind him. Savastan did not generally stand on ceremony, but he was her mentor.

Savastan said nothing for a few moments, paging through a saurian tome. Weighing nearly four times the weight of a fully grown man, Savastan’s scaled skin cast the light back in a shower of crimson and gold, while his razor sharp talons gleamed in the light. Beyond his harness, the saurian choose merely to wear a few useful mystic items and the basic insignia of a master Trader, rather than the full regalia to which he was entitled.

“Ah, Marla.” Savastan closed his book and turned to face her. Golden eyes surveyed the teen for a moment and then Savastan gestured at another seat next to him. “Sit. You’ve had a long walk. Why did you not hire a cab?”

“I’ve been saving my money sir,” Marla said.

“Ah. Admirable. But a question to you. Did you save money?”

“Sir?”

“While you did not pay for a cab, you were forced to take extra time to walk here. That time could be used for a variety of potentially profitable purposes and then of course there’s the fact that you’re likely both hungry and tired due to your walk.”

“I-” Marla closed her mouth and frowned. It had made sense when she’d started out, but Savastan was right— a cab would have taken no more than a few minutes and…

“On the other hand, I find that a walk often clears my mind,” Savastan said, cocking his head in the way that Marla had come to realize meant he was amused. “You have to make that decision for yourself, but remember— whether as an apprentice Trader, Trader and hopefully one day, master Trader, time shall always be your most valuable and finite resource. Now, on to other matters. Do you have them?”

“Yes sir. I used your letter of credit to have a crystal imprint taken.” Marla shrugged. “I know you would have preferred the originals, but the librarians were… adamant.”

“Well it was worth a try and the impressions should be just as useful…”

At Savastan’s gesture, Marla brought out what appeared to be a gem, glowing with an internal light. Savastan took it from her, looked at it for a moment and then hissed several saurian phrases. Moments later, they were surrounded by what appeared to be disembodied pages full of saurian text.

“Mgph…” Savastan muttered, eyes flicking over the pages. “Not much beyond what we know already. The region fell into the nullzone just over 25,000 standard years ago. It caused quite a collapse in the slave markets in this area for a time.”

Marla tried to keep from bristling. Many humans were still enslaved, but it was not a Trader’s job to right the wrongs of the Universe. That did not always comfort her, especially when her scars ached at night.

“But no sign why it occurred?” Marla asked.

“None. There have been nullzones before, but usually magic becomes erratic well in advance of the onset of the zone’s full effects and never vanishes entirely. But for a world to fall dark so quickly, so completely… the silver lanes literally vanished.”

“Until now.”

“Yes.” Savastan made a gesture and the document images vanished. “Mind you, I had little hope of finding anything relevant to our needs, but there was always a chance that these old records might have provided us with more information. All we know is what we knew before— that the nullzone started to grow and little more than a week later, the world vanished from all knowledge. Now it is back.”

“And nobody else is going,” Marla said.

“Of course not. Civilization is the product of magic; without it we will find howling savages at best.” The saurian shrugged and gestured at the floating mage lights, the sigils that controlled the temperature and the smooth floor. “Indeed, it is entirely possible we shall find no sentient life. The inhabitants could have fled before the nullzone trapped them or simply have been unable to survive without all the tools of civilization…”

“Sir,” Marla paused and shook her head. “What if the nullzone comes back?

“We are well equipped to determine if the viability of magic is declining and can quickly return… but yes, there is an element of risk. Do you wish to remain behind?”

No!” Marla burst out. After everything you’ve done for me? “I just… was wondering what made this risk worth it. If the world is likely to be empty…”

“Ah, that is precisely the point. The world is likely to be empty and unclaimed. There are low population galactic worlds.” Savastan made a dismissive gesture with one hand, talon’s gleaming in the light. “But truly empty worlds? Those are far less common. Empty worlds that have nobody who has claimed them? Almost impossible to find and they usually are unclaimed for a very good reason. But this world? Its owners are long dead. There is nothing to keep the Traders’ Guild from claiming it.”

Marla, you are an idiot. The Traders’ Guild owned very little outright. Many ports were rented, some of them for centuries at a time, but in terms of worlds, the Guild had none. The traditional method to get a world was to invade it, but the Guild was too widely spread to risk the consequences that being seen to become aggressive would bring. But an empty world…

“I…” Marla noticed that Savastan was giving her that tilted-head look he reserved for someone who finally got it. “I should have thought of that sooner, shouldn’t I?”

“Possibly,” Savastan said. “But as an apprentice Trader you have focused on making use of those opportunities provided by civilization. We do not mine, nor do we manufacture— our wealth comes from purchasing the mine’s bounty and getting that bounty into the hands of the craftsman before we assist them to sell it to someone else. The idea of developing a world is something that many individuals who are senior to you would never consider.”

And the lesson continues. From the day she’d found herself hiding in Savastan’s herb garden, Marla had learned one thing: Savastan never stopped teaching his student.

“When will we leave sir?”

“A week to set up the expedition,” Savastan said. “I would prefer more time, but once people notice that I am going, they are likely to consider mounting their own expeditions. I would prefer to avoid being a part of a mob.”

“Won’t they simply follow us?”

“Possibly, but why? Among the Traders we will have clearly been first, so why risk the danger when there is no longer the potential of beating us?” The saurian laughed with a chuffing sound. “No, they’ll occupy their time preparing for our return.”

“A new world…” Marla said. “Do you think any cities will be left?”

“Almost certainly not. Magically reinforced materials would of course have been eliminated by the nullzone and mundane materials… well 25,000 years may not be very long in geologic terms, it is a tremendous amount of time for exposed structures. I doubt we’ll even be able to find the remains of all but the largest structures. Our main goal will be surveying the region around the silver lane’s terminus in order to determine if the world is viable for our purposes.”
 

NitroNorman

The Armchair Reader
I thank you for posting this thread.
Tell me, what is your author name on Kindle, so that I might read a few of your books?
 
Heh. Missed the ending of that chapter:

Later that night, after completing the last of her work with Savastan, Marla retired to her small room. She undressed and pulled down her bed’s coverlet turning the glowgem down. The room was small but comfortable, with a writing desk and chair set up next to her bed. She knew that some apprentices found her living quarters overly luxurious, but Savastan had sniffed at that.

“A mentor who keeps his student in a hovel cannot then criticize the student for not paying attention. Misery is no friend of learning.”

Marla carefully put her clothes away and donned her night robe. Some of her friends slept nude. Marla didn’t.

Slaves always kept something on, lest their master find them unready. Even six years later, it was hard to unlearn that lesson, even if Savastan never failed to ask permission to enter her room.

Of course, Marla thought as the fabric of her night robe caught on the raised scar tissue encircling her right wrist, some of us have been better taught than others.

As usual, it took a while for Marla to get to sleep.

End Chapter
 
2
Chapter II

For the next tenday, Marla found herself either at Savastan’s side or carrying out his errands. There was a great deal to do, especially since Savastan didn’t want to provide any warning to possible competitors. The silver lane terminus they needed was far out to sea with a long-deserted island in the direct center of the terminus. Marla bet that the island had been created by magic back when there had been an active silver lane. Even though most sky ships could float, it was still far more convenient to have a handy island or two to locate your warehouses and such.

During this time Marla’s days were filled with writing out invoices, not simply for the material they were going to take, but for all the preparations to ensure that Savastan’s trading interests were not harmed in his absence. That meant signing contracts with the semi-retired master Trader who would be handling Savastan’s affairs (for a small fee), and ensuring that everyone else knew who to contact. Savastan’s home wasn’t an issue since there were spirits and animated statues to guard it and the gardener already had a key. The temporary cover story was that he was taking a brief vacation.

She had assumed that they were going to just charter a normal skyship. As wealthy as Savastan was, nobody was rich enough to just buy a skyship. The rituals to empower the lift crystals could take years and a literal king’s ransom to complete. In fact, one of the sources of the power of the Traders’ Guild was the fact that they had amassed an actual trading fleet over the centuries the Guild had been in existence.

But evidently Savastan wasn’t traveling by normal skyship in this case…

The skyship Marla was looking at was smaller than the others, with a heavily armored hull and small portholes studding the hull. She could see that it had an advanced landing gear that would also retract up into the hull. Marla blinked at that. Most skyships were either land or water landers, not both.

Savastan looked at the battered ship and nodded. On its side, golden letters spelled out its name: Davon’s Hope.

I wonder who Davon was? Marla was certain she would find out on board, but it was unlikely Davon was still alive. The ship, after all, might be several centuries old.

“Excellent. I am pleased Captain Varath was able to make it here so quickly. Explorer skyships are rare, but they are quite necessary to our purposes.”

“Savastan!” The bellow sounded from the top of the gangplank where a large korva had come into sight.

Varath was smaller than Savastan, but loomed over Marla, his dark blue scales seeming to drink in the light. Tools hung off his work harness while an mana-caster was holstered at his hip, the silver rod gleaming in the light.

“Captain Varath— I see you found my offer interesting.”

“Wouldn’t hear of anyone else doing it, not when I got your letter,” Varath tilted his head, a gesture of amusement. “A lost world?”

Truly lost, Captain, at least for the last 25,000 standard years.”

“And we’ll be the first to visit,” Varath said. “Hells, I’d almost do that for free.”

“Well, I shall inform the ban-”

“I said I’d almost do that for free… don’t you go trying to save money now!” Varath said. Moments later, he and Savastan burst into laughter.

“Of course not, old friend,” Savastan replied. “This is Marla, my apprentice. She’ll be coming along with us.”

“Ah.” Varath turned his eyes to Marla, staring at the small human. “I’ll try not to step on her by mistake.”

“I-thank you sir,” Marla said.

“You’re with Savastan so you’re trustworthy and smart, that much is a given,” he told her. “But have you ever been on an explorer?”

“No sir.”

“Any weapons training?”

“I… know basic hand to hand for self defense and can use a crossbow.”

“Have you ever needed it?”

“Not since I became an apprentice Trader.” And it is death for a slave to strike back against a non-slave or bear any weapon save those her master grants her, so I never had use for any training before I became an apprentice Trader.

“Fine. Understand that things can go bad on these trips and if they do, they go bad fast. Don’t try to help unless someone tells you to, and if they do, you do exactly what they say. My crew has worked together for a long-time and they know what they’re doing. You don’t. Understand?”

“Yes Captain Varath,” Marla said.

“As you said, she has my trust,” Savastan commented.

“I know and that means she may want to help. I wouldn’t give this speech to the typical layabout who wants to hide behind my people.”

“No, you would throw them off the ship.”

“You can wager Godlan’s Soul on that.”

Indeed,” Savastan replied. “Marla, if you would be kind enough to help the bosun to load our gear into the hold?”

“Yes sir,” Marla said. So I’m going to be standing off to the side. On the other hand, even if she didn’t do anything, it was important to watch and complement the crew on their job. After all, nobody liked being treated like a disposable employee.

***​
As Marla walked off to speak to the bosun, a sturdy woman with brown hair, Savastan turned back to Varath.

“Yes, your first impressions were correct: she is competent.”

“She’s young,” Varath said. “I thought you weren’t taking any more apprentices.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I found her in the garden.”

“Here?”

“No, Ploquon.”

“Plo-runaway slave? So that’s why you moved.”

“Indeed. The lease terms for that port allow for runaways to be returned to the…” Savastan’s voice turned cold. “…mercies of their owners. An unfortunate oversight on the part of the negotiators.”

“Miserable place,” Varath agreed. “So you’re keeping her close in case someone decided to pay for a catch team. Any reason to think that’s an issue?”

“Unlikely, but until she is a Trader, it is wisest to avoid the risk.” Savastan said. Technically, even as an apprentice, Marla had the protection of the guild, but as a full Trader her kidnapping would be nothing less than an act of war against the organization that dominated the carrying trade for over 10,000 worlds.

“Well, if you trust her to come along, like I said, I trust your judgment.”

“You honor me,” Savastan replied, ducking his head in a gesture of respect. “And your crew?”

“They’re all good boys and girls,” Varath said. “Good navigator and we’ve got two mages this time around. Watch out for the lady though.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, she is a Bronze Medallion graduate of the Holy Institute of the Hidden Veil.”

“Ah…” Savastan said in sudden understanding. “And the fact that nobody she’s met has as yet ever heard of that institution is wearing on her?”

“Exactly. Oh, she’s met one other graduate from her old school, but that didn’t help…” Varath smirked, “Especially since he’s the senior mage on board.” The two shook their heads in companionable amusement. It was an old story of course. Nearly every civilized world had some form of mystic academy— and the “best” graduates of such academies were very good indeed, until one realized that there were a vast number of such academies scattered across the universe and what was best for one world might very well be merely average for galactic civilization. It was often quite a shock to those who expected the universe to bow before their genius.

“Well, I’ll be meeting the entire crew presently. I just wanted to be certain that our initial goods were loaded and preparations made, and…” Savastan made a gesture and suddenly the sounds around them became muffled. “Walk with me.”

Varath nodded in understanding. “My cabin?”

“No. It’s easier to eavesdrop there. It’s much easier to enchant an object to record a conversation then listen to what we’re seeing here, especially with a damping spell in operation.”

“Well, why you wanted me becomes apparent,” Varath said. “And why this expedition seems so adhoc.”

“Indeed?”

“Please. You could have had me here months ago and you have the funds to keep us here…but that would have left time for other people to try and bribe some of my people or just get curious about Master Trader Savastan’s intentions. I read the precis you sent. Empty worlds don’t merit this much attention, and don’t hand me that dragon dung about the Traders’ Guild building a new world. That’s not how your people think.” Varath gestured at the port. “You build ports, you trade, you don’t go to a world where you have to build the farms to feed the laborers who will build the port, and you don’t have any idea if there are any other silver lanes leading to other worlds or where they go if they do exist. It could just be a dead end world.”

“I’m becoming depressingly obvious in my adulthood,” Savastan mused. “I used to be far more skilled.”

“You’re rich. Rich people don’t have to be sneaky.”

“That is not always the case,” Savastan said. “What is the great curse of our civilization?”

“Slavery, mageocracies…more specifically incompetent mageocracies…” Varath shrugged. “Especially if you’re not a master Trader with enough clout to deal with ‘em…but what does this have to do with an empty world?”

“While the Traders’ Guild might not be able to develop such a world… well not all runaways can become apprentices like Marla.”

Varath frowned. “You’re talking some awfully dangerous plans, Savastan. A mage king may not be able to see the end of his nose for most things, but a safe haven for slaves? You’ve heard about the Korva ‘empire’ haven’t you?”

“They are fighting-”

“Savastan, they’ll be crushed, doesn’t matter how long it takes. Sure, they killed their masters, took three worlds…and now every world for ten transits around is united against them . Hells, those worlds even managed to force your people out.”

“Not all of us agreed with that decision,” Savastan said, eyes narrowing.

“But it was made anyway. They’re by and large cut off from galactic commerce. They’re doomed.”

“Maybe.” Savastan turned to look out at the busy port. “But we are not talking about a direct challenge, but a refuge, one safely far away. Your kings may not be as perceptive as you think.”

“For your sake I hope so.”

TBC
 

NitroNorman

The Armchair Reader
I thank you for continuing this story. Your previous book, "A little Responsibility," has kept me interested for a long time. Had I not read it before, I might not have connected it with your story on this site. I"m sorry to say that I almost forgot about your works. Yet here you are, putting together another story. I hope you continue.
 

GeshronTyler

GiftZwerg
cg99 Assuming that the "1955" refers to the year 1955 AD on earth, I'm guessing that you deliberately set the timeline before the beginning of the digital age on earth? Seeing as how computers might be made to work with magic, since the expression of which is decided by those that use it, locally at least. Or that digital computers might even block magic, or constrain it by the very firm belief on earth there is no such thing as magic.

1955 earth is on the cusp of the jet age, for commercial/public transport, IIRC. Not too mention, nuclear power, for stationary and ship/submarine plants.

So far, I don't get the sense of much concentrated heavy industry, so I figure earth will derive some advantage there.

Your Mastetrader seems to be playing quite a long game, and certainly seems to have a progressive philosophy compared to much of the rest of galactic civilization
 

NitroNorman

The Armchair Reader
My history is a little rusty. But world war 2 did just end. All those soldiers that returned home got married, or are out looking for jobs. Their is a booming housing industry at this time, because all those new young couples need houses. The canning industry is making its way into every home in America, where the can-opener just became a household product. Alot of military technologies developed during the war are making their way into the the civilian sectors by the men and women who used to work for the military. Lots of new Gadgets.

It's the age of the cold war. It's an age when Hippies were just getting started. I'd have to check the dates for exactness.

If the magic people on the boat think they're going to have an easy time of it they're in for a rude surprise. I'm half expecting them to show up where they aren't wanted and being blown out of the water with a submarine torpedo.
 
If the magic people on the boat think they're going to have an easy time of it they're in for a rude surprise. I'm half expecting them to show up where they aren't wanted and being blown out of the water with a submarine torpedo.
The magic people on the boat are expecting to find, at most, savages dancing around fires re-enacting half remembered spells. After all, everyone knows that magic is the core pre-requisite for any form of advanced society. There will be surprised, but remember that Savastan & Co. are traders, not conquistadors. Just as a bit of foreshadowing-- galactic society (at least as far as anyone on the ship knows) has no word for mass production of magic.
 
Well, I for one am intrigued how society will react to a world whose two superpowers' current warfighting strategy can be summed up with including the prefix "nuclear" for pretty much everything...
 

walkir

Aewab Lurker
I wonder how much they can resist Earth's influence, be it espressed by machine gun, mass production or other economics...

Hollywood is going to love being able to hire fantasy creatures, at least.
 

NitroNorman

The Armchair Reader
The magic people on the boat are expecting to find, at most, savages dancing around fires re-enacting half remembered spells. After all, everyone knows that magic is the core prerequisite for any form of advanced society. There will be surprised, but remember that Savastan & Co. are traders, not conquistadors. Just as a bit of foreshadowing-- galactic society (at least as far as anyone on the ship knows) has no word for mass production of magic.
Don't get ahead of yourself too much. Master Trader Savastan just said they were looking for a refuge for escaped slaves. He even expected the planet to be completely uninhabited. There are Magician Kings, and they war all the time. I'm guessing that their society is more like a series of islands, each ruled unconditionally, connected by trading ships, like in the 1800. Their armies probably loot and kill and rape all the time. That does not mean that the Traders are unarmed. As big as the Trader Guild is they must transport weapons for kings all the time, and must have a few warships to keep raiders, mercenaries, slavers, pirates, and space monsters at bay. The captain of the flying ship has a wand, but with as yet unknown capabilities, but I'm expecting it to be something like a six-gun that shoots lightning and fireballs.

In conclusion, if you're a Freeman, you're armed, because only by the weapons you hold do you remain free.
 
3
Marla quickly realized that “speaking to the bosun” meant staying out of her way. The bosun was a middle-aged Tavara, her luxuriant brown hair only showing the first signs of gray. The scars that showed through her fur spoke to an eventful life.

I wonder where she grew up? Marla thought. The Tavara were one of over a thousand of the known human derived species, modified by chance or intent from the original humanity that had appeared in the galaxy nearly 30,000 standard years ago. There were nearly a dozen candidates for the true homeworld of mankind, but at the time, they’d merely been a particularly useful servitor race and by the time enough free humans existed to care, the truth was hopelessly muddled.

“Move it in and don’t drop it or the captain will use your skin for the next log-book,” the bosun growled at the dockworkers. The last packages came floating in, suspended by the sorcery of the hooded figure walking behind them. “Put those by the front of the hold and don’t jostle them.” As the figure walked past her, the bosun reached up and snatched the hood from her head. “And keep that off when you’re working with me. I want to knew where you’re looking when I’m talking to you.”

“I-I hold the Bronze-”

“Yes, we know, Bronze Medallion. That was then and a dozen transits ago. Now you’re a crew member and this is my domain.”

Marla remained silent as the wizardress, a slight woman with an odd mask-like marking around her face glared at the bosun. Marla couldn’t tell if the markings were tattoos or if the woman was another human derived race. She glared at the bosun for a moment before dropping her eyes, unable to meet the bosun’s glare, her feral violet eyes gleaming in the light.

“I understand.”

“Good. Remember, it’s a damned safety issue. I need to see your face when I’m giving orders.”

Back stiff, the woman marched back to the front of the hold, the delicate surveying instruments held firmly in the spell.

“You’ll have to forgive our little Jessinan. She hasn’t adapted to galactic society yet. I’m Clarissa, or bosun if I’m yelling at you. You’re?”

“Apprentice Trader Marla.”

“No other name?”

“Not yet.”

“Ah. Will it be given or earned?”

“Earned,” Marla said. “Once I have become a Trader, I can take on a family name.” She looked around the small cargo hold. “Our own equipment has been loaded, so what else is there?”

“Foodstuff’s mostly. They’ll be put under preservative spells but the captain wants a lot. We have no idea if we can forage where we are going after all. But while we’re waiting, let me show you around and introduce the crew.”

Like most private ships, the Davon’s Hope was old. The reinforced wooden hull was covered with old graffiti while centuries of sailors had rubbed some of the furnishings smooth, nearly obliterating the old decorative patterns on the hatch handles and other fixtures.

Nobody had tried to replace the fittings— there was no better way to insult a ship than to try and erase its memory. The ship would certainly take revenge upon such an owner at some point.

Clarissa opened the hatch for Marla and pointed down the corridor. “Quarters are here for the crew and general passengers. The captain’s and main guest cabin is on deck but we stay below.”

“That would seem to cut into your cargo space.”

“Yeah, but it makes it easier to ward the ship from dangers if most of the crew is buried in the hull.” Clarissa waved at the bulkhead and by extension the world outside. “Not every silver lane leads to a nice safe world. Sometimes you come out in storms and sometimes you come out in clouds of acid. It’s rare, but it does happen, especially for a pathfinder ship like ours.”

Marla nodded. “Savastan claims that some of those worlds were habitable when the silver lanes were first created and that have since changed.”

“Heh, don’t say that to the Followers of the Roadbuilder,” Clarissa replied. “Kid, your boss may think that someone created them, but he can’t know— nobody can. The earliest records talk about them just…being there. Even the dragons don’t know, or at least none of them have ever claimed to know.”

“He did say it was his theory,” Marla said trying not to sound defensive at the way she had dismissed Savastan’s opinion.

“It’s one of the better ones,” Clarissa replied. “But I doubt anyone will ever know. But yeah, he is right that you occasionally get a world mentioned in some old record like this one. If they’ve fallen out of contact, we have to go and check the world out. Conditions can be rough, which is why we depend on the old Hope here.” She motioned for Marla to follow her. “Now let’s introduce you to the rest of the gang.”

The common room was at the end of the corridor. As Marla followed Clarissa into it, she noticed a compact galley in one corner, several storage lockers opposite it and a collection of tables and comfortable chairs, with a few individuals sitting in them.

“Okay everyone, this is Marla— she’s with Master Trader Savastan, so no pranks. Understand Vin?”

The woman looked up from where she was polishing her boltlauncher and smiled. “Me? When have I ever played a prank?” She grinned at Clarissa. “Well sometimes on you, but most of the accusations were baseless.”

She must be one of the guards, Marla thought. Vin was shorter than Marla, but her compact build spoke to her being very strong. Her dark hair was cut short and brown eyes looked out from a face that was more handsome than pretty, especially when one took the ugly knife scar falling down one cheek into account. She was dressed in flexible armor that could turn most non-magical weapons and had a fair resistance to mystical attack. Either the captain was very generous or she was very good at her job to be able to afford such armor.

Quite possibly both, Marla reminded herself.

“Innocence doesn’t become you, sister dear.” Her table partner said. The man rose to his feet and strolled over to Marla and Clarissa. He was dressed the same as Vin, but he gave Marla a bow that wouldn’t be out of place in a royal court. “You’ll have to forgive my sister. She occasionally lets her sense of humor get the better of her wisdom.”

“And you?” Marla asked, looking up at him. Unlike his sister, he was tall and thin, blond hair cut in the same style.

“I help to clean up her messes. I am Shelton. And you?”

“Apprentice Trader Marla,” she answered.

“And a lovely individual indeed.”

“Okay, I’ve laid down the law about Vin’s jokes— now it’s your turn. Don’t try and romance the Trader.”

“Of course not,” he said and bowed again.

“If he forgets, tell me. I’ll set him on fire,” The compartment’s third occupant said. When Marla looked over at him he waved, putting his pipe down in front of him. “Chief Ship’s Magus Lian Tomson at your service.”

Tomson looked older than the other two, at least thirty if Marla was any judge. He had the mask-like marking around his face that Jessinan had.

“Hello,” Marla said. “Are you related to Jessinan?”

“Ha!” Lian laughed. “No, and I’d not bring that up to her. She’s a holder of the-”

Bronze Medallion!” Everyone else chorused.

“And I barely graduated,” Lian continued. “But here I’m her superior because I have more experience on the silver lanes. Oh, she’ll be my boss one day, but not now and the adjustment is hard.” He gestured at the table, “So sit! While your boss and our captain plot the moves that will define our lives, tell us about yourself!”

Marla sat down and tried not to frown. The problem was that as much as she wanted to demur, that would get her a lecture from Savastan and he was right. Dealing with people, not just when you were making a deal with them, but all the time was the core of what it was to be a Trader.

“Well, I’m the master Trader’s apprentice.” Marla smiled. “Which means I do the paperwork and learn what he teaches me.”

“Probably a lot. Does he teach you sorcery?” Lian asked.

“No…” Marla blushed. “One of his friends tried to tutor me. He finally said that he would state that only rocks have less aptitude for that than I do…but he can’t honestly make that claim because he hasn’t met all the rocks in the universe yet so one may be better than I am.”

“Well, magery isn’t the only skill,” Vin said. “Some of us need to keep the mages from falling over their own shoes.”

“I’ll have you know that was not falling over my own shoes, Lian said. “I had seen, with my mystic power, that I had to…stumble!” At the last he opened his eyes wide with a dramatic waggle of his eyebrows.

“And the drinking that lead to your stumbling?”

“My mystic power said I needed to do that, as well.”

“So it had nothing to do with not realizing how talasa fruit can sneak up on you?”

“Not at all, and that’s the story I’m sticking with.” The others burst into laughter at Tomson’s comments.

“So, where are you from?” Tomson asked.

“I… I live with Mentor Savastan,” Marla replied. “I came from Ploquon.” Temperature dropped slightly and Marla tried not to groan. She hated this part. “I was a slave, not a Master.”

“Well that’s alright then,” Tomson said. “Last time we were on Ploquon…” he shook his head. “There are nasty places and nasty places…and then there’s Ploquon.”

“I…” Marla’s back and wrists started to ache. “Agree.”

“But beyond that,” Clarissa said, giving Tomson a meaningful look. “How long have you been working with Master Trader Savastan?”

“Six standard years,” Marla replied. “Not all of them as an apprentice trader.”

“Well, there’s nothing like starting early,” Tomson said, getting back into the conversation. “It saves you the danger of forgetting how big the galaxy is.”

If I hadn’t come to Savastan, the only danger I would have been in was what type of death I would experience. Marla didn’t voice her thought. Regardless of their opinion about Ploquon or slavery in general, most people preferred to not talk about horrible facts when they couldn’t do anything about it.

“So…what about your world?” she asked Tomson. “Is it…”

“Nothing special. About twenty transits from here, in the Veil.” Tomson shrugged. “We’re just outside a big nebula, at night it’s actually brighter than our moons, so needless to say, just about every damned thing is named for some variant of veil. That’s why I don’t get too stuck up about my school— I just remember that the other Institute of the Hidden Veil was the standing diner where I took my lunches while I was avoiding homework.”

Marla laughed, as did the others, even though she bet that they’d heard that story more than once. With that, the group started to delve into the various stories about their homes, or experiences since they’d started to travel.

It’s nice to have people to just talk to, Marla thought as she leaned back into her seat.
 

Sander093

Worst Author ever
Hmm.. One thing the magic side may be taken aback by is the sheer number of airborne stuff post WWII would have, as it was stated that hover stuff was very rare. Pity this is pre-747 days, there would be many jaws dropped if that was the case.
 
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