I’m getting ready to haul myself back out of the fighter when I consider another option. Opening the communi-channel to the insectoid frequency, I use my fingers on the scratch pad to draw images of the Pax vessels, each with three of the red chits they use to represent thousand credit increments. I slap a distress icon on it and hit send. Hell, it’s a one in a million shot. I don’t know if any of the insectoid vessels are close enough to respond, but it’s the only thing that comes to mind. Since no one else will initiate trade or communication with them, they may see responding to a Drakon distress call as a way to establish an alliance. I can only pray that turns out to be the case.
Jumping out of the fighter does not go unnoticed. Unsure how to respond to their surprised stares, I wave and smile before ducking out to head back to the bridge. If nothing else, I can provide moral support for the big sexy dragon and stay at his side if the worst happens. It’s the least I can do for the man intent on putting himself and his crew in harm’s way to protect me.
Thinking back on the dozen or so dogfights I’ve seen in my time, I know we can’t possibly win in a head on battle of brute force. Perhaps my intimate knowledge of the way the Pax conduct battle will give us the edge we need.
Desperation makes a person do strange things, take risks they’d otherwise shy away from and innovate in a way they never thought of before. I suddenly realize this is the edge humans have over most other species. Smiling to myself, I realize that I do have something unique to bring to the fight.
15
Tarion
Noticing movement in our peripheral vision, Lehar and I turn at the same time to see Carissa leaving the bridge. “Shall I go after her, sir?”
Turning back to the task at hand, I shake my head. “Leave her be. I will dry her tears myself once the battle is won. As much as I’d like to leave in the face of battle and run off to see that she is well, I’m more concerned with ensuring our ship isn’t blown up by a superior force.”
We do not have the language of the Pax in our translation matrix. Though I am not usually one to complain, their angry yapping over the communi-channel has me frustrated, and I find myself asking, “Is it me, or is the translator taking forever to find the base code for their language?”
“Since the Pax started showing up to trade more frequently in this sector of space, I’ve been meaning to locate a translation program in case we ran into them. As it stands, we’ll have to break the code and formulate a rudimentary translation matrix on the fly.” Lehar adds with frustration, “This is not what we need right now.”
As soon as Lehar finishes speaking, the translator kicks in. “You have stolen property belonging to the Pax Alliance on your vessel. Stand down your weapons.”
Clearing my throat, I open my end of the communi-channel and stare down the pale white creature who has been shouting at me. “Tarion of the Hielsrane does not trade in stolen merchandise.” That’s a lie of course, but I’m hoping he doesn’t know for sure.
The look of derision on his face is accented by the sight of his tiny mouth twisting into a smirk. “Your reputation precedes you, Tarion of the Hielsrane.”
I’m not surprised he’s heard of me. Unfortunately, that’s not working in my favor today. Folding my arms over my chest, I respond indignantly, “To fire on my ship is an act of war. The Drakon will not allow such an insult to go unpunished.”
Stepping forward, the creature’s large black eyes shine with dark humor. “Stow it, Captain Hielsrane. I’m aware the Drakon trade fire with each other and every other species in the verse with alarming regularity, so let’s not pretend my doing so is out of the ordinary.”
He’s got me on that one, but I’m a stubborn male. “Who are you and what exactly do you want from me?”
The small white creature’s large boxy head wobbles slightly as he speaks. “I am Captain Emf'phet. The Pax Alliance has tasked me with securing the return of certain valuables, which our scans verify are on board your vessel.”
Smoothing down the front of my uniform, I feign boredom. “You’re wasting a lot of my time. Can you get to the point?”
He responds curtly, “You will turn over slave 2701, the cube of chromite and the Class D vessel the slave escaped in. If our property is damaged, you will be responsible for making that right as well.”
He apparently has not heard of our creed. Once plunder is in our hold, we never give it back. I tilt my head in mock confusion, widening my eyes at the accusation and state innocently, “I’m not familiar with slave 2701. Can you describe him to me?”
The older Pax captain is not falling for my antics. In fact, he’s beginning to lose patience with the whole situation. His voice turns menacing. “Don’t play games with me, Captain. A reward has been posted for her return and I intend to collect it. Your cooperation is required by law.”
Truth be told, my computer’s monotone translator has more warmth than he does, judging by his expression on the view screen. The thought of Carissa being helped by such people makes me double my resolve to obtain her freedom.
Moving slowly, I plop down at a console. “Hold on, let me
