Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 17

Lagrangian Waltz - Episode 17
By: James Dubeau

Start the adventure here
Previous episode here

A breeze ruffled Sin’s jet black hair as he wearily stepped up the Bolide’s boarding ramp. Over his shoulder the skeletal remains of the Naurchand starport looked on. Girders jutted into the air, waiting for skin and form. Like maggots eating dead flesh around a wound, construction workers cleaned debris from the building in preparations of reconstruction.

There were no crowds surrounding the Bolide. There was no fanfare for the smuggler. Citizens did not know the precipice of danger which they had been dangling over. They did not know who the true heroes were that saved the world and what sacrifices had been made.

“Ready to hit the stars?” Tahnel put down the welding torch as Sin entered the cockpit. The acrid Scent of burnt metal filled the cramped quarters. Spare parts cannibalized from a nearly demolished starport had been hastily installed, jury-rigging the Boldie to a flyable state.

“Did we do the right thing?” Sin threw himself into the captain’s chair. Governor Beltran’s dressing down was still fresh, his words still stung. There were no thanks in the life of a gun for hire. No admiration for the job done. Payment was always paired with a look of contempt in the employer’s eyes. The job should have been done quicker, cheaper, and without so many complications. Innocents shouldn’t have been put through so much danger. The boy should have been able to come home alive.

“Did you catch the news broadcast?” Sin shook his head in response to Tahnel’s question. At the large green being’s control, a video monitor came to life. A female human in professional attire filled the screen, above her shoulder played a video.

The newscaster’s voice blurred out as Sin lost himself in the images which played out above shoulder. Imperial Colonel Voshage had Consul Master Solda Kumil and Zachariah Beltran imprisoned on an Imperial shuttle. Just on the outside of the planet’s atmosphere the shuttle was intercepted by Hener’s ship. After a brief shootout, the Imperial ship was blown out of the sky. In retaliation, ground based weapons opened fire on the ship, destroying it. All remains of both ships were completely burned up on reentry. Naurchand soldiers in full dress uniforms carried a small coffin.

“Our improvised footage was put to good use.” Sin sighed as he flipped off the newscast. “It is amazing how simple footage and creative editing can pull the wool over Empire and Consul eyes.”

“Zachariah Beltran is now presumed dead. There is nothing left for the Empire and Consul to fight over. Naurchand should be left alone from now on.” A look of longing and regret was deep in Tahnel’s eyes. “It is a shame that Zachariah must be separated from his family but boarding school far away from here is the only solution. It would only be a matter of time before they would figure out he was still alive if he stuck around here. This was the only way to keep Naurchand safe and out of the war.”

“To hell with this world,” Sin cursed. “They don’t know how good they have it. Living off the beaten path keeps them away from prying eyes. These people live their lives with no fear of persecution or war or death. On this world sweat, blood, and tears do not need to be paid for a meager existence like the rest of the galaxy must.”

“We all pay those tolls, my friend. Naurchand may not have to deal with the Empire or the Consul breathing down their neck, but they have their own worries. No one has a free ride on this spinning blob of rocks and stars. These people are just fortunate that Governor Beltran is a good man. He shoulders most of the galactic burdens.”

“Beltran may be good for his people, but he is no friend of ours. That man just about refused to open the coffers for our payday. Just because he can’t see his son again we shouldn’t get paid.” Sin flipped some switches on the dashboard, bringing the ship to life. The control panel lit with activity and gauges spun. A faint hum emanated from the rear of the ship as motors started turning. “Let’s get off this planet before I change my mind and sellout the boy to the highest bidder.”

Tahnel waved his fingers and spoke in soothing tones. “Zachariah Beltran is a good kid. We wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his safety, no matter what his father or this planet does.”

“You are right,” Sin nodded, “he is a good kid. Now let’s see if the spirit of the Phoenix has taken hold.” The Bolide shook as the main engines lit, glowing white hot at maximum output. Quickly gaining altitude, the freighter escaped from the grasps of Naurchand’s gravity.

Tahnel spoke through clenched teeth. “First you name her after an exploding meteor and now you liken her to a bird that is on fire. Why do I agree to fly in this old crate?”

“She is a bold ship that rises from the ashes, a mother hen to protect us on our grand adventures.” Sin laughed, good spirits were once again with him.

“Speaking of adventure, where are we off to now?”

“Bolide could use some professional repairs. Calenist seven is as good a destination as any. I know of a good mechanic that will take care of us. Maybe this time he’ll deal you in on the card games.”

Tahnel glared at his friend. “While we’re there, we’ll pay off Mr. Thent. Is that correct, or do you have an urge to dodge more bounty hunters?”

“It depends on what Bolide’s repairs cost. We can’t make money and stay in business if we don’t have a fully functional ship. Don’t worry though. We’ll pay Mr. Thent a little something to keep him off our back for a while.” Sin winked.