Art:Space Pirates/Ratri's Story
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Ratri's Story
by Orsino
“And that’s how me and Ned managed to escape the gravity mines on the edge of the solar plane.” The old man in front of me downed his drink and slammed his glass into the brushed titanium of the bar.
“Great story Z. Another rum?”
“Nahhh, time for me to head back. We shove off in two hours and I need to check that the quartermaster found the supplies I ordered.” He stepped off his stool, wobbling slightly. “Take care Ratri, I’ll see you in a few weeks.”
I watched Zed stagger towards the docks. He was a good man and a good customer.
“I spent all bloody afternoon clearing Dock Five for the Mistress of Messiinga today. Bloody ship don’t arrive till day after tomorrow,” groused the short swarthy man seated before me.
“Why the rush?”
“I’ll be scupped if I know. Boss told me clean it out, re-route all passenger traffic away. There’s no passengers it’s bleedin’ cargo ship.”
“Here, let me refill that for you.”
“Say, bartender.”
“Yes?”
The miner leaned in over the bar and I did the same. I could smell whiffs of ozone and comet dust from the outside of his suit. “My ship is stuck at Dock Six for a few days while the bureaucrats file my claim. Any opportunities to make a bit of money while I’m around?” He kept his voice low, not that anyone would hear him over the din of the Worlds Cup games on the viewscreens behind him.
“What do you have in mind?” I asked, already thinking about what I wanted him to do.
An angry throng had formed around the doors to the bar. An impossibly tall and wide thing, dressed in a long black swoop cape, was filling the doorway preventing both exit and entrance. I reached under the bar and pressed the button to lift up the side panels and widen the entrance. My appointment had arrived.
He quickly sat down in the rear booth. After making sure Matt, my assistant bartender, had things under control I slipped away and sat down across from the behemoth.
“Nice disguise. But don’t you think it’s better not to draw attention to yourself?”
“This way everyone is looking for a Golen dressed in black and not me. What do you have for me?” asked the man in front of me. Sitting right in front of him I could just make out the human eyes whenever he opened his mouth too wide. It was a very good disguise.
“Someone’s been bringing slab onto the station, getting it past customs at Dock Twelve. They may be trying to go into competition with Fulop.”
“That’s not very helpful. Do you know who? How?”
“From what I’ve heard there’s a ventilation duct that runs the entire length of the dock, right past customs. Whoever it is, and I don’t know that, slips it into the duct and somehow walks it right under your feet.”
“Hmmmm. That’s interesting. I’ll have to put some more me men on the job.” He reached inside one of the folds of his cape and pulled out a small bag. “Your usual fee,” he said as he dropped it on the table between us. “Call me if you learn more.”
“Good luck Edny. Let me know how it turns out.”
As the last customer wandered out I looked out through the glass and steel doors of my bar. It was a busy night on the station, full of traders and passengers, shippers and thieves, humans and Cheem and Krawlites and Puppeteers. A couple of Zarbi raced above the crowds on the suspended track.
My bar provided a pleasant resting place for those same crowds. The brass rail and the pleather-cushioned stools stood in contrast to the titanium and steel décor of the rest of the bar. All the liquor and petroleum distillates were on display behind the bar, protected behind a force-field for those nights when one of the longshoremen had too much to drink. I enjoyed listening to the din of the crowd and the whispered confessions of the drunk too much to share it with any employees, but the popularity of the business forced me to take on other bartenders during the peak hours. Business was good. I enjoyed my work. I had most everything I needed or wanted.
Most everything. Not all.
I turned away from the argument happening in front of me. I really didn’t care if Squimyl-Lite tasted great or was less flammable. “Lucy,” I whispered into com-screen behind the bar.
“Yeah boss?” replied the screen as an innocent face first appeared on, and then through, the plasma-glass.
“Don’t call me boss; I don’t pay you anything.” I stepped back as a slightly transparent thirteen year old girl stepped through the back wall of my bar. “What have you been getting up to?”
“Nothing much, just watching the ships come and go.”
“Inside or outside?”
“Outside,” she admitted with a sheepish grin. “I think I scared the new dock pilot half to death.”
Lucy was a good kid but she still didn’t understand how shocking her condition really was. Nobody knows why some humans become ghosts upon death. It just happens. Most reputable scientists have given up trying to find a reason; occasionally some mystic from the far branches comes up with some theory, but nothing ever pans out. Of course, it wasn’t until they had ventured out into space that humans really accepted ghosts as real. Something about space makes ghosts “thicker” - giving them a bit of weight and visibility, enough to interact with the world around them. Most ghosts find a sort of employment with the government or with shipping companies doing outside inspection work. Lucy’s dream was to be a space pirate like her parents, so the road has been much slower for her.
“Take this message to Commander Strang at Dock Thirteen. He’ll be waiting for you.”
With a screwed up expression on her face, Lucy became a little less transparent. She held out her hand and I dropped the datacard into her palm and watched as she walked away, her legs almost moving fast enough for the speed she was floating at.
“Hey Ratface!”
I clenched my shoulders at the sound of the thin, nasally voice. I hated that nickname and there was only one person who ever used it. Putting the biggest smile I could across my face I turned and greeted my visitor. “Ruanos. What can I do for you?” The red-headed thief limped up to the bar and slammed a small polyester satchel onto the surface. “Take a guess what I have here.” He indicated the satchel with a nod, glaring at me the whole time.
I busied myself making a martini while I reached down to open the bag. “Wasn’t that miner waiting for you like I said… he…” I stopped. I set aside the drink I was making and looked at what I had pulled out of the satchel. “This is a finger.”
“Yeah.”
“A human finger.”
“Good set of eyes you’ve got there.”
“I see you’ve got all yours so whose is this?!” I shouted. “And why did you bring it in my bar?”
“I went to Dock Six like you said I should, found the right ship and everything. I didn’t see anyone and the door was down so I … looked around. I found a big pool of blood and this.”
“Hey bartender, can I get another… Hey, are you alright? You look kind of worried.”
I smiled the best I could and tried to sound pleasant. “Yeah. I’ve just had some stuff come up unexpectedly.”
“I hear ya. Anyways, how about another vodka?”
“You know, your girl over there is cheating on you.” I said to the longshoreman at the bar.
“What!? How do you know?”
“Look at her. She’s completely ignoring you except when she’s hitting you up for money. She’s dressed better than she has been in weeks. And…” I paused for effect. “She keeps making eyes at that fellow on the other side of the bar.”
I watched in fascination as the tall thick man got up angrily. I always enjoy causing a bit of chaos when I’m in a bad mood.
“What do you want Ratface?”
“I’ve solved your problems.” I ran to the storage closet and returned with a data pad. “I can get you access to that miner’s ship. In fact, I can even give it to you.”
“What’s in it for you?” Ruanos queried. His eyes had narrowed to mere slits as he looked over the bar.
“One: It gets you the ship you were looking for. Two: It gets you off the station and out of my fur. Three: You’ll have to do a little favor for me.”
“Forget it, I’m out of here.”
“Stop. Listen to this. I just want you to pilot the ship to Messiinga and pick up a passenger. Bring her back here and the ship is yours.” I could see the wheels turning inside his con-man brain. I was always amazed how predictable crooks could be.
“Why? And how?”
“You only need to know how.” I set the data pad onto the bar. This pad can simulate the miner’s fingerprints, DNA, and limited voice print – enough to get you through the locks and security on the ship.” As he grabbed at the pad I added “It’s astonishing what you leave behind in a bar when you go for a simple drink.”
“What’s the catch?”
“The catch is that you can’t use it. I’ve set it so that only Lucy’s voice will activate the pad. She’ll make sure that you actually go to Messiinga and come back and not run off on your own.”
“I’m not taking that ghost with me!”
“Sure you will. She doesn’t take up any room and you get a free ship out of the deal. If you’re amenable, be back here in two hours.”
I watched Ruanos limp out of the bar, Lucy following him like a lost puppy. I regretted tricking her into it like that but I knew she’d be fine. She was already dead. On the other hand when she finally made it back here she’d have a great story to tell. And maybe she’d settle out of her pirate phase.
Ruanos, on the other hands, I hoped would not be coming back.
I walked back behind the bar and into the storage closet I used for an office. It took several minutes, but my transmission finally connected. “They’re on their way.”
“Goody. And these are the fiercest pirates you could gather?” I tried my best to look honest. “Yes. Of course, they won’t harm you, as per our contract.”
“I should hope not. I’ll have Daddy’s captain release your slave now.” Mate, I mentally corrected.
“Mimsy and I will be in touch in anything goes wrong” finished the woman in pink ruffles. With that the screen went dark.
Pirates. Ha! Ruanos may have been a great thief but he was a horrible pilot. After spending two days cooped up with Lucy he had barely entered the Messiinga system before he ran into trouble. For “some reason” the Imperial Guards thought he was going to try to kidnap the mayor’s daughter. He tried running, like I knew he would, and he was shot out of the sky, like I hoped he would. Lucy stowed away on an Imperial ship and returned to the station with a great story.
And me? I got my mate out of custody and now I’ve got something else to spend my time with besides the bar.
