privateer-universe-blog

[privateer-universe-blog]

Project X, Episode 3

Bad Company

Intergalactic Red Cross Official Log

Cross-12: Florence

17:56, Mountain Planet Athnan, 3/27/30141

I got through most of the party by running through repair manuals for Cross-12 on my computer chip, up until when the Queen came to greet us. I shifted uncomfortably in my suit, glancing nervously around at the other partygoers. There were a few different species here, but they were all relatively humanoid. Most of them hailed from the same system. James looked much more relaxed than I felt, having done this sort of work a million times. The queen, in her crimson dress and gold corset, gracefully and graciously spoke with each guest. It was hard to believe that she and her husband created an entire fake world just to prevent a revolt. Anything for power, I guess. I had been worried about the illusions clashing with the information from my chip, but the antidote had done its job well. James and I stood in the corner, waiting anxiously for the queen to greet us. Finally, she reached our group.

The queen addressed James first “You look vaguely familiar. Have we met before?”

James swallowed, glancing at me.

I put my hand on James’ arm “My wife―” god it felt weird saying that, “―gets that a lot. She just has one of those faces.” I cringed internally. Seriously? That’s the best I could come up with?

James smiled awkwardly at me. “I do, don’t I, darling? Your Majesty, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

The queen smiled. I noticed that her eyes held little of the warmth in her smile. “The pleasure is all mine. I do hope there will be peace between our planets for years to come.”

And with that, she left in a sweep of gold and red.

James rounded on me. “Nice save. I’m sure that won’t get us caught,” she hissed.

I shrugged, even though I was shaking slightly. “I’m trying. I’m not as good at this as you are. I’m not even sure why they picked me.”

James sighed. “Just, let me do the talking, okay?” She grinned. “You can be my arm candy.”

I breathed out a shaky laugh. That I could do.

After the King and Queen made their rounds, soft music began to float through high-tech speakers on the walls. Couples began introductions and various rulers made small talk. I noticed a man standing on his own, watching the proceedings with the eyes of a hawk. He was looking for someone. James saw him too, and quickly pulled me into a conversation with the leaders of a planet close to the one we were supposedly ruling.

This pair were an older couple dressed in yellow. James spoke with them for a few minutes on the topic of alliances in the Kalaius System and the environmental health of dark spots in our ‘home system’.

I kept my eyes on the man, even while responding to the couple. He caught my eye and I looked away quickly. James suddenly dragged us away again, hurriedly saying goodbyes and excuses while she pulled me in the direction of the private meeting rooms and the lavatories.

“Okay,” she said, once we were situated behind an unsuspicious-looking potted plant. “That man you keep looking at is the Minister of Pharmaceutical Practices, which is basically a fancy way of saying he’s the head of the whole operation, and he’s been notified that there might be IRC involvement tonight,” she rattled off.

I nodded. “So what’s the plan?”

James frowned at me. “You mean to tell me that you don’t have―”

I ran a hand through my hair. “This is your mission and you expected me to have the plan? Great. Did you know he would be here?”

James shook her head. “No. I knew he existed, but I didn’t think he would―”

“Of course he’s here!” I whisper-yelled. “I love you, but you are an idiot sometimes.”

James grabbed my shoulder. “Shut up. He’s looking this way. Act natural.”

“‘Act natural’ she says,” I groaned.

We watched anxiously as the the guy slowly turned back to a conversation with a pair of green-clad nobles.

James glared at me. “The information we’re looking for. An agent by the name of Dmitri should have it.

I nodded slowly, glancing around nervously. “And,” I whispered, “Do we know where he would be? Or what he looks like?”

“Hot.”

“James. Focus. Give me details, I don’t want to be stuck at this godforsaken party longer than I have to be.”

“Fine. Well, I worked with him a couple years back. He’s about yea high,―” she waved her hand at a spot above my left shoulder “―with black hair and blue eyes.”

“Okay. Do you know where he’d be?”

“Uh, he’s one of the staff here.”

I sighed. “Do you ever look at what they give you?”

James chose to ignore this.

I rolled my eyes. Thankfully, one of us has some sense. I checked the files on my computer chip. “He’s one of waiters.”

James rubbed her hands together. “Excellent. I was hoping we’d get to eat.”

While we waited for dinner to be served, James and I mingled with the other guests and made polite small talk. It wouldn’t do to appear unsure of ourselves or out of place, earlier incidents aside. I let James take the reins for a while, choosing to search various databases for information regarding the history of the planet, its rulers, and anything else I could find that might prove useful. Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t a speck of dirt to be found. Someone was keeping everything clean. No malpractices, no unjust punishments. I sighed inwardly. I hated field assignments. My suit was beginning to itch and I was starting to sweat. James looked at ease, chatting with some duke or duchess or whatever.

I breathed a sigh of relief when dinner was served. I hadn’t spoken much during the evening, and I was glad to finally have an excuse not to talk. I was seated next to a rather large man in a deep purple vest, while James was next to the smallest woman I had ever seen. On the table in increments were enormous flower arrangements, giant white petals sitting in the center with small violet buds on long green stems drooping over the pristine ivory tablecloth. Waiters in black tuxedos and lavender bow ties marched in carrying silver platters and bottles of champagne. I searched the faces, looking for a man fitting the description James had provided.

My attention was drawn away from the staff by one of the security officers rapping his knuckles on the table. The guests quieted and the officer straightened, clearing his throat.

“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt, but there is something I need to call to your attention,” he said.

James looked at me pointedly, trying to catch my attention. She opened her eyes wide and kept jerking her head minutely at someone out of my field of vision. I ignored her.

He went on. “It has come to my attention that there is enemy infiltration here tonight. I warn the infiltrators to turn themselves in immediately, my queen may show mercy.”

I schooled my face into a more neutral expression. Across the table, I saw the minister I had noticed earlier glaring around. His eyes landed on me and I swallowed, redirecting my attention to the security officer.’

“I also would like to assure our guests that no harm should befall them tonight. Thank you, that will be all,” he finished, returning to his station at the edge of the room.

James elbowed me.

“Ow! What?” I said, irritation coloring my voice.

“He’s here.” She discreetly pointed to a waiter standing behind the people a few seats down. He fit her description, and I had to agree, he was kinda hot.

The guy must have noticed me staring, because he looked over at us and gave a tiny nod. He and the other waiters began to set their trays in the long middle portion of the table. My mouth watered at the array of dishes in front of me. There was food from every planet I had ever visited, and some I hadn’t. I was afraid I’d abused my computer chip trying to search for the names and origins of all of it.

Dmitri made his was over to us filling champagne glasses. When he reached James, he picked up her glass and filled it, spilling some of the bubbly drink onto her napkin.

“Terribly sorry Madam, let me get you a new one,” he said, replacing the wet napkin with a dry, folded one.

James smiled at him, and when he had moved on, carefully placed the napkin in her lap, removing a slip of paper from within the folds of the fabric.

When people started to tuck into their food, James nudged me again. “Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes,” she whispered. Then she stood up and casually walked in the direction of the toilets, her heels clicking on the polished floor. I sighed, picking up my fork and helping myself to a tray of edible flowers cooked in cream. If I had to wait, may as well eat something.

When I reached the bathroom, James opened the door quickly and yanked me inside.

“What’s with all the violence? You have something to tell me?” I complained.

She rolled her eyes. “Dmitri has a sense of humor, apparently.”

I looked at her questioningly.

“He decided to hide a freaking file chip in this.” James pointed to a metal box mounted on the wall.

“A tampon dispenser?”

James looked unamused. “A tampon dispenser.”

I mean, not a lot of species need tampons, so it was a pretty clever idea to put the information somewhere where it would be rather unlikely for anyone to find. James, however, didn’t seem too impressed so I decided not to mention that.

I cleared my throat. “So did you―”

“Yes, I got it.” She held up a tiny piece of metal. “Let’s get out of here so I can plug this into your skull.”

“Why can’t you use one of the ships computers? You know I hate being a computer,” I whined.

“The ship’s computers won’t work with this. They’re too slow and it’ll take much too long to decrypt unless you do it,” she replied.

I sighed. “Fine.”

James opened the bathroom door slowly. She jumped slightly and stepped out quickly, tossing the chip in an underhand motion towards me as she went. I heard her speaking on the other side of the door, and then a deep voice responding. I mentally searched myself for somewhere to hide the chip, and then reached up and combed through my bright red hair. Finding the file port, I shoved the chip in and opened the bathroom door.

James was having what looked like a staring contest with a guard. When I opened the door, his eyes jumped to me, and he blinked.

James flung her arm over my shoulders. “We were just leaving, weren’t we, darling?”

I looked at her. “Uh-huh.”

The guard coughed awkwardly. “You two, you, uh, keep yourselves out of trouble.” He fled.

James laughed, removing her arm from around me. “Let’s go. We still have dessert.”

Dessert, although delicious, was almost unbearable. I was so nervous that someone would stand up, point at us, and shout ‘hey look it’s the spies from the IRC’. James was much more relaxed, easy for her, she didn’t have life-or-death information shoved into her noggin. I could barely eat, my hands were shaking so badly. Eventually I just gave up and rested them in my lap, waiting for it to be over. I became aware of an itching sensation where the chip was plugged in. I was afraid of that. My computer chip may be fast and powerful, but because it’s only the left side of my brain and can’t ever perfectly align with the right side, it overheats really easily. Especially in situations like this, when I’m stressed. When I sleep I turn it off, and that gives it more than enough cooldown time, but anxiety makes it heat up faster.

That presented a new problem. I could either turn the computer off, shutting down half of my brain (this would make me, for all intents and purposes, useless), or I could take my chances trying to fight through the pain. “This is why I don’t do stressful field work,” I muttered to myself. The chip would have to be unplugged if I chose the first option, and that introduced a host of other issues, so I would have to go with the latter. I shifted restlessly in my seat, trying to ignore the burning sensation that was slowly taking over the offending side of my head.

Five minutes later, five horrible minutes of agony, of trying to force myself not to give away how much pain I was in, the gala was over. Guests were leaving slowly, saying their goodbyes. James, who had probably noticed my constipated expression and figured out what was happening, hauled me out of my seat by the arm and dragged me off to the landing dock.

In retrospect, it would have been a lot easier to take the chip out considering the attention we were drawing anyway. I remember vaguely registering the image of the dock, the ship waiting for us, and trying to keep myself from swaying into James. We stopped. Why had we stopped walking?

“...thorough search.”

“I’m sorry, my husband needs to lie down.”

That was James speaking. There was a guard blocking our way. I blinked, trying to clear my vision. I was leaning heavily into James, and one of my arms was over her shoulders. I didn’t recall it being put there.

Another voice, this one from behind me, spoke up. “You must be searched before you can leave, Madam.”

James sighed. “Stand up on your own for a few minutes,” she whispered. And then she dropped me.

I stumbled backward, almost falling off the landing dock. James had punched the guard behind us, knocking him off the dock. I think he must have fallen onto another level beneath us, but it probably wasn’t too far because I could hear him shouting for more guards. The other guard charged at James, and she ducked out of the way, pulling her blaster pistol from a holster underneath her dress. She aimed a shot at the guard’s leg, temporarily disabling her. The woman unsheathed her own blaster and aimed a shot at me. Through some miracle, I managed to duck, only to trip on one of the shoes James had discarded when she hit the first guard. It was just as well, he had managed to draw out a few others and they fired round after round of blasts, barely missing the top of my head.

James shot the guard again, this time in the arm and the guard’s blaster clattered to the floor. She hauled me up and out of the line of fire, and my burning head spun. The ship’s crew had started the engines and the ship was humming, ready to take off immediately. The main door opened slowly as James and I made our way to it. The security on the the level below us aimed their guns at the ship, but barely made a dent in the metal (our D18s might not have guns, but they more than make up for that with defense). Reaching the ship, James shoved me through the door and collapsed beside me, exhausted. I felt the ship leave the port, and heard the clank of the door shutting. I reached up and pulled the file chip out of my skull and put in James’ hand. Then I crawled onto a seat, buckled myself in, and shut my brain off.

When I woke up the was floating through Cross-12’s docking bay. James was conked out next to me. When we landed, I gently shook her awake.

“James. James, wake up.”

She blinked slowly, and then reached into her pocket to retrieve the chip, handing it to me. I turned it over in my hands, scrutinizing it for damage. The doors to the ship opened behind me and James stood, stretching her arms above her head.

“Let’s get to the debrief. I’d like to see what sort of intel Dmitri has,” she said, hopping out of the door.

Later, James and I were back in our uniforms and seated at the table in one of the meeting rooms. I jiggled my knee nervously and played with the cuff of my uniform until James pulled my hands apart. I hated debriefings, especially when the mission hadn’t gone according to plan. We weren’t supposed to injure people, and we certainly weren’t supposed to make as much of a mess as we did. The captain of Cross-12 stood in front of the blank screen at one end of the room, addressing the mission team. Our squadron commander stood behind her.

“I can’t say I’m terribly impressed with this,” she professed. “We no longer have the element of surprise. The information on this chip will tell us the location of the places where the drugs are manufactured, but we’ll have to delay our attack. The Anthan may not know what we’re there for, but they’ll be on high alert anyway.”

My heart sank. I knew we’d given ourselves away, but to have it said in front of everyone made it ten times worse. I felt my face heat up and James put a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“That being said, we are lucky to have our agents come back to us with themselves and the intel intact,” Captain Gramm continued. “I’m sorry that this has been short, but we have a lot to take care of to prepare for the coming attack. Thank you, and good evening.”

On the way back to our quarters, I couldn’t shake one question from my mind. “How do you think they knew we were there?”

James frowned. “I have no idea. We weren’t exactly smooth in the beginning, though.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I just, I don’t know. I guess I wish I knew what we did wrong.”

“For all we know it might not have been something we did. Someone there could have recognized one of us and tipped off the guards.”

“Well I know one thing for sure,” I said.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“I am for sure not getting any more infiltration assignments ever again.”

James hummed. “It’s not for everyone, but I think you held your own.”

“Maybe. It still could have gone better, though.”

“Go to bed, Florence.”

-T.R.R. Carroll

[privateer-universe-blog]

Project X, Episode 2

Midnight Blue

Intergalactic Red Cross Official Log

Cross-12: James McCartney

23:14, Mountain Planet Athnan, 3/27/30141

Last evening was quite an adventure if I do say so myself. Florence and I were watching Golden Girls in his room, I was eating Chinese food and he was berating me about it for the billionth time.

“You can’t live off of rice alone you know.”

I threw my chopsticks at him. “Watch me.”

It was then that both of our pockets buzzed, we pulled out our communications and clicked the sides.

“Report to Deck B5 immediately,” both devices said in the same tinny voice. Florence looked at me and sighed. “Not a single day of peace.”

“Only the sweet taste of justice,” I replied.

He pushed Lewis off his lap and stood up. I slowly dragged myself off the couch, brushing rice off of my red uniform.

“Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” Florence responded.

Together we walked out of his room, me taking a less common route because girls aren’t supposed to be in male quarters, which is a stupid rule by the way. We met up again at the entrance of Deck B5 and walked in together, joining the rest of our squadron.

“James!”

I turned around to see the face of my squadron’s senior assistant, Hunter Wills, who also happens to be my slimy and unpleasant ex-boyfriend.

“What?” I asked in a tone that immediately told him I had no interest in the conversation. Ironic, considering the fact that when we were together he never seemed that interested in talking anyway.

“Relax.” he said. “Commander wants to see you, it’s about a new mission.”

Hunter peered behind me. “Hey robot boy!”

I growled. Florence hates it when people call him that.

“Commander wants to see you too,” Hunter finished, and with that he sauntered off, turning his head to wink at me as he went to stand with his superiors.

“I hate that guy,” Florence muttered.

“Same.”

Together we walked to where our commander was waiting for us.

“Agents McCartney and S456-E210,” he nodded.

We stood, awaiting his instructions.

“Now as you two are well aware the planet of Athnan has been giving us some trouble lately, the planet’s monarchs have been sneaking drugs into the population of the general public in the hope to keep them under control. The drugs they are using happen to have several unpleasant side effects and are particularly harmful to the young and the elderly, even killing them in some cases.”

Florence grimaced.

“Tonight the monarchs are having a gala to celebrate twenty years of peaceful rule, I want you two to attend the party, and retrieve some information for me. We have taken liberty of securing two invitations to the gala tonight, you two will be posing as the duke and duchess of a fictional planet several light years away.”

I pointed to Florence, “Wait, so I’m supposed to be…” I gestured between Florence and me.

Commander sighed, “Well it was either him or officer Wills so I figured..”

“You know what,” I said quickly, “I bet Florence looks great in a bow tie. I’m assuming we’ll get more details before this evening.”

The Commander handed me two flash drives and I gave one to Florence, “These contain everything you need to know, but you can look at those later, for now you both need to report to Deck E6 for a fitting,” he said.

“A what?” I sputtered.

“Well did you think you would be going to a gala in your real uniforms?” He grunted. “Now go, and try to be back within three hours.”

Florence and I nodded and began towards one of the ships many elevators. I peered down at my reflection in the glassy tiled floors. I still looked 15, my curly hair adding on two extra inches to my already lanky frame, and the freckles that used to dot my face had vanished. I looked up at Florence and sighed.

“What?” He asked, ��At least you don’t have to wear a bow tie”

“Yeah, try heels,” I volleyed back. He grinned.

The elevator door dinged and opened onto Deck E6 and we stepped into the costume department of the Intergalactic Red Cross. True, the department is somewhat small, but it’s important. I cannot count the amount of times I have had to dress up, to be someone else. The red uniforms, on top of my wild hair, are very recognizable, and unfortunately I’m wanted on several planets.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said, and we headed in opposite directions towards our respective changing rooms.

I walked down a hallway filled with flowy dresses and skirts hanging from racks and when I arrived Ingrid was already waiting, a sympathetic but amused look on her face as she held out a pair of strappy silver heels in one hand and the other rested on her swollen stomach.

I cringed. Those heels looked painful. “How’s the baby?” I asked.

“She’s doing good, not due for another two months of course.”

“Cool”

“You should see the dress, J, ” she said. “One of the prettiest things I’ve ever made. She opened up the wardrobe in the corner to reveal a sweeping midnight blue dress with sparkling jewels dancing on the bodice.

“It’s beautiful!” I gasped, taking in the long silk skirt so rich of a color that by the time it reached the floor it was almost black.

“Try it on!” Ingrid urged.

I stepped behind the curtain and pulled the dress onto my body, Ingrid came behind the curtain and laced up the back. I slipped on the heels and stepped in front of the full length mirror in the corner. Luckily the dress fit like a glove, I had no doubt in Ingrid’s skill obviously, she is one of the best seamstresses on Cross-12 and probably of the entire organization. The dress clung to the curve of my waist, coming up without sleeves and giving me much more of a chest than I could take credit for. The skirt was the prettiest thing I had ever seen, and the slight glint of the shoes underneath the layers of fabric reminded me that I was about to do a mission in a dress and heels.

“It looks perfect on you,” Ingrid sighed.

I stepped back behind the curtain and changed back into my uniform.

“Now come back in about two hours and I’ll get you ready for tonight.”

I wrapped my arms tightly around her, “Thank you.” My whispers were muffled by her curly black hair.

“No problem.” She said slapping me lightly on the shoulder.

I met up again with Florence who had a very disgruntled look on his face.

“Was the suit not your color?” I teased.

He stood up and ruffled my already disheveled hair. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

We made our way to my room and sat down on the worn purple couch in the middle of the room that had been given to me by a family about a year ago when I rescued their young daughter from an arranged marriage. I picked up my knitting needles and pulled out a quilt that I was working on for Ingrid’s baby.

Florence plugged his flash drive into my TV and pictures of mountains came up onto the screen.

“Looks cold.” I shivered.

“Well wear one of your sweaters.”

“Ha ha,” I responded.

The briefing gave us more info and told us what information we were to extract. Then we watched Mean Girls again and by then it was time to get ready for the mission.

We went back down to the costume section and  I put a weapons garter on each of my legs, slipping a blaster in one and a few butterfly knives in the other. Ingrid put me back in the dress. I slipped on the heels and Ingrid pulled my hair up in a sweeping updo with a few tendrils hanging down here and there. She gave me a pair of butterfly earrings and wrapped a small diamond necklace around my throat.

“Now…,” she said. “For makeup.”

“Do I have to?” I whined.

“Well you can’t look like you when you go,” she teased. “I’m sure there’s going to be at least one person there whose leader you killed once.”

I laughed dryly.

She pulled out a tube of foundation and spread a thin layer over my face, added a thin dusting of glitter over my eyelids,  and dabbed a darkly colored lip stain over my lips. Ingrid stood back and clapped her hands.

“Done!”

“So how do I look?” I asked, going over to stand in front of the mirror.

“Let’s just say that Hunter boy will wish he’d never dropped you, now go save the world.”

I hugged her one last time and gave a fleeting glance at my reflection in the mirror. The makeup made me appear older than I really was. I walked down the hallway and caught a glimpse of Florence… and promptly burst into laughter. I walked more into the room to see him standing in a suit, looking rather unhappy. He saw me and doubled over as well.

“You look like a cake!” He gasped.

“You look like someone killed your cat,” I wheezed.

We both stood gasping our sides as the laughter subsided.

“The dress suits you,” he commented.

“Thanks,” I replied, “I think pregnancy has made Ingrid more amicable.”

Together we walked to the deck where we were supposed to meet Commander. When we got there Hunter was waiting for us and I shuddered when he ran his eyes up and down my body.

“Uh, the uh commander will see you now,” he sputtered quickly. I bit my lip to keep from laughing as he almost tripped over the floor as he walked away. Florence and I discreetly high-fived.

“I don’t think he looked at you like that even when you two were together,”Florence chuckled, “Which I hated by the way,The little slimeball.”

“I know but that was ages ago, now come on, it’s time to go wreak some havoc.”  

I knocked on the door and Florence and I stepped into a room that was occupied by Commander and several other officers, after being given our earpieces and emergency code words we boarded a ship piloted by another operative that had been painted black with some random complicated looking insignia on the side.

I always have loved flying in the smaller spaceships and looking outside at the stars. I look at Florence as we descend into Athnan’s atmosphere.

“So Duke Eddingford, are you ready for the Gala?”

He smirks. “Absolutely Duchess Eddingford. It should be fun.”

We pulled down into official airspace and were met by a security bot, which after hearing us state who we were, took our retinal and fingerprint scans, I don’t actually have fingerprints, they were burned off in training to make me harder to trace, sounds cruel but it’s safer for me to keep a low profile. The bot then instructed us in a computerized voice to follow the green lights into the walls of the palace in which we would be escorted to a reserved landing strip.

As we entered the palace walls I couldn’t help but gasp as I took in our surroundings. The palace was beautiful, the roof looked like alabaster clouds, dotted with flowers and diamonds. The palace itself was gargantuan, covered in what looked like thousands of crystals and fragments of nebulas and exploding stars. I turned to Florence. “You have to draw this,” I told him, he nodded in agreement. I turned back to the window to find that we had landed on one of the many airstrips. It was surrounded by large trees that twinkled with fairy lights as ethereal figures floated through branches greeting each other cordially as glowing butterflies flew around their shoulders. All of this appeared vivid to my eyes in the dark night sky. Florence sighed beside me and our pilot pressed a button opening the hatch. I took the stairs slowly, taking in more of the view whilst simultaneously trying not to trip over the hem of my dress. The air of the planet felt light and dreamlike, and I assumed it was the drugs that they had slipped into the air. As we walked down the runway we were met with a man who instructed us to give him our arms. We held them out and he poked them with a sharp needle.

“What does this do?” I asked him.

“It will help you acclimate to the atmosphere as it is thinner than the one you are used to on…” He picked up his clipboard tablet and scrolled down a list of names. “Psémata, you two would be Duke and Duchess Eddingford then wouldn’t you?”

We nodded our heads in confirmation. He hurriedly led us towards a set of large double doors at one end of the palace. As we closed in on the large structure, I took another glance around me. Instead of beauty and wonder I saw monsters and pain. The sparkling trees were nothing more than dead wood, the beautiful spirits nothing more than addicts and the homeless milling about the courtyards and being kept in line by security guards with electric pulses of light. I gasped in shock as I saw young mothers with crying infants begging the guards for food, only to be met by cold glances and occasional kicks.

“What is it?” Florence whispered, turning to look at me. As he too took in the view, his eyes widened first in shock, then in anger. I grasped his hand tightly.

“Don’t do anything yet., I told him in a hushed voice. “We will fix this.”

We walked into the palace and our coats were taken by a small bot on wheels. The man led us into a large entry hall where the nobility of the universe, rulers of galaxies and planets alike, the founders of empires, were getting drunk on champagne and gambling away more money than most people make in a year. I think back to my own home planet, where food was always scarce, love and happiness even harder to come by. If someone were to ask me why I had such low respect for authority I would simply take them to a party and they would know. The man turns to us.

“If you look in the corner over there you can see that a few families from planets close by are there. I suggest going over there for now, you might see a few faces you recognize. The royal family will be out shortly.”

Florence and I looked around and immediately I noticed that no one else was wearing blue. I turned nervously to Florence and he put a reassuring hand on my lower back.

“It’s okay,” he told me, “Ingrid knows what she’s doing.”

We walked to the side of the room and a man with a tray walked by offering us champagne, we gratefully accepted and when no one was looking dumped our glasses in a potted plant. All of a sudden horns sounded and the royal family was announced. From the top of the grand staircase a couple appeared, the man was dressed in rich crimson, with gold designs twining around his chest. He wore a cloak that I knew from my research was the mark of a warrior, one who had killed. Though the king was powerful everyone’s eyes were drawn helplessly to the queen. She was in a deep red dress, a corset of gold winding around her waist and wrists in a way that resembled armor. I studied her face, looking for a weakness, a chink in her armor. Our eyes met, hers searching and passive, she didn’t want to be here I could tell, probably though it was a waste of resources. The king besides her waved merrily and she curtsied elegantly, the hall erupted in cheers.

“According to my chip,” Florence quietly said, “The Queens favorite color is blue.”

Realization dawned on me. “Very clever Ingrid, very clever.”

The couple walked down the stairs and began to greet their guests as everyone else relaxed and began to mill about the room. After a while they finally made their way to us. The Queen smiled at me.

“You look vaguely familiar,” she said to me, the smile turning slightly suspicious, “Have we met before?”

I gulped and glanced nervously at Florence.

END OF PART ONE

-Maebh Arden

[privateer-universe-blog]

Project x, Episode One

PILOT

Intergalactic Red Cross Official Log

Cross-12: Florence

18:37, Jungle Planet Énas, 3/12/30141

Earlier this morning, ground squadron 1-86 received a distress signal coming from the forest. Cross-12 is docked on Énas for repairs, and by protocol, we are to assist anyone who needs it. The squadron set out after notifying Cross-12 and followed the signal for about an hour and a half. As we continued through the thick undergrowth, static began to crowd our systems, effectively hindering our connection to base camp. James began to complain at this point, throwing nasty looks at our superiors and grumbling swear words into her headset. My computer chip gave a constant stream of interesting although ultimately unhelpful information about Énas. Most of the planet was covered in a thick jungle and the climate was hot and muggy eight months out of the year. I was just thinking that I would have liked to draw the place when a loud crash echoed all around us, the force shaking tree branches and sending leaves flying. James was immediately on high alert, one hand on her holster and the other reaching for the sword on her back. The rest of the team stared around, peering through the thick trees and undergrowth. I set my computer chip to scan for life and we waited in silence for something, anything to make a sound. There was something blurry and enormous on the fringes of my reach. Four-legged, maybe a reptile? I began to back away slowly. Thankfully, everyone followed my lead. The last thing I wanted to do was antagonize the local wildlife. James looked at me questioningly and I put a finger to my lips.

To my horror, the thing just became clearer and clearer, the edges sharpening and the image no longer blocked by as many trees. My sensors began to pick up the soundwaves of a large animal crashing towards us and I strained my ears to hear it. I backed away even faster, stumbling over a root and almost losing my footing. The creature was running flat out now, shaking the ground. I focused in on it with my scanners. In my mind, I could see the animal, but my eyes stared blankly ahead at a deep forest. The image in my brain showed a huge four-legged reptile with horns and a spiked tail. I swallowed. The chip helpfully told me it was something called an Énas Dragon and that its poison could kill someone in under ten minutes. James looked at me again.

“Sword or blaster?” she mouthed.

   I checked the information streaming in from the chip. Énas dragons apparently have really thick skin and a weak underbelly, so a sword would work better than a blaster.

   “Sword,” I whispered back.

   She nodded and unholstered the weapon. I watched the figure in my head draw closer. Now I could hear the steps and feel the vibrations. 100 yards, 70 yards, 60, 50. A few seconds later the thing burst out of the tangle of vines and tree with a guttural roar. James immediately charged towards it, yelling commands at the others. I scroll through the data on Énas dragons. There isn’t much, but they have slow reaction times and can’t see very well. I was rattling all of this off into my headset when one of the younger cadets went flying and hit a tree branch. I raced over and started to inspect the damage. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw James vault over the dragon’s tail, dive between its front legs, and slice directly upward. It staggered and tail slashing back and forth, collapsed. I finished dressing the cadet’s wounds and sent him off to base camp with another cadet. James had been pinned under the creature and muffled swearing was coming from underneath it. With the help of some of the team, we heaved the enormous body off of her. James stood in front of us, covered head to toe in blood and some sort of gelatinous substance. She spat out a mouthful of it and grimaced.

   Everyone else was on the whole unhurt, and I handed out bandages and patched people up here and there. James tried unsuccessfully to rid herself of the dragon’s innards; I saw something stuck in her hair that looked suspiciously like liver, but I decided not to mention it. We continued on, following the signal which had been pinging loudly. Our surroundings became more and more difficult to navigate. Twice we had to double back due to obstacles. Presently the signal increased in frequency. A large black structure was barely visible beyond the trees. I tried to scan it but all I got was static. I wondered how the signal was reaching our interceptor if this structure was blocking out my scanners. As we neared it, I noticed what looked like a wing lying several feet away from the main structure, which I assumed was a ship of some sort. It was clear now that the signal was coming from the ship and the pilot had crashed on this planet. The group decided to send in James and me to inspect the site.

   We approached the ship slowly and carefully. It was still smoking, so it had crashed fairly recently. There was one life form showing on the infrared scanners. I motioned for James to stay and peered around the side of the spacecraft. A man sat by a small fire, his helmet next to him. A small distress pulser was beeping on the ground next to him. Upon noticing me, the man stood up. I opened my mouth to tell him who we were when he jumped up, grabbed the pulser, and pressed a button on it. I remember my scanners going blank, static filling half of my mind. I recall stumbling backward and telling James to run. A black ‘X’ burned itself into the computer half of my brain and I could hear James calling my name and the shouts of the rest of the squadron. My head was throbbing, my legs collapsed, and the world went dark.

   I woke up a few hours ago back on Cross-12. Before I had even opened my eyes my chip told me we were off of Énas and currently awaiting orders from the Barton(the IRC main vessel) in the Okeanós system. I was back in my room and James was sitting in an armchair she had apparently dragged over to my bedside. Lewis, my Maine Coon, had made himself comfortable in her lap and was purring loudly. The cover of a knitting magazine blocked my view of James’ face, but by the unruly blonde curls peeking over the top, I could tell it was her. She looked up at me and sighed.

   “And he’s finally awake.”

   “What happened to the pilot?”

   “Dead. We barely managed to get everyone out before that section of the forest was demolished.”

   “What about that black ‘X’?”

   She frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just saw you start to back away and then yell at me to run, and then you collapsed.”

   “I don’t… I… it must have been my imagination,” I said. That didn’t feel right. The black ‘X’ was going to plague me. I had a feeling it was important.

-T.R.R. Carroll