Lehar grins at me. “That was a smart move. The other ships are still fighting but faltering as they try to decide who is in charge.”
“I suspected they might. The Pax have strict rules about their chain of command. To have Emf'phet out of the fight but still technically in charge of his fleet will take them a second to sort out, as overstepping boundaries can result in extreme punishments. Why don’t we concentrate all our fire on the next strongest ship because they normally put the next most capable captain in charge? If we can bring that ship down, they’ll have to take a second to regroup again.”
His crew responds as soon as the words come out of my mouth. One of them sounds off. “We’ve got incoming, sir.”
Lehar leans over the control panel. “It’s three more Pax vessels. We can’t take them all on. We simply don’t have enough energy to charge the weapons.”
“Pull in all your fighters. Focus our remaining energy on the shields and negotiate a deal. Trade me for safety for you and your crew.”
“I can’t see them giving us quarter when they can simply overpower us and take what they want. Though they came for you, it’s a matter of survival now. Tarion already told them what will happen if our ship reaches a planet belonging to the Intergalactic Council. They won’t risk getting themselves thrown out of this sector of space over one slave and a pile of chromite.”
“We have more incoming.”
Lehar peers at the console and frowns. “It seems that we’re all doomed today. An insectoid swarm has appeared. They’ll take out our ships just for being in their way. How’s that for unexpected?” Lehar didn’t sound nearly as devastated as one might have expected considering his dour prediction.
“I sent out a distress call on the communi-channel in insectoid.”
“That doesn’t seem likely. No one in this sector speaks the language. It’s some sort of buzzing that even our best language programs can’t translate.”
Sitting down at the console, I open a channel. Using the scratch pad, I draw the chits and a rudimentary image of the Pax vessels.
One of the bridge crew sounds off. “They’re scanning us, Sir.”
Lehar lurks over my shoulder. “What is that you’re sending?”
“I was once owned by insectoids. You’re right about not understanding them. Their language is some weird noise they make by rubbing the top of their wings together. I was never able to make out a single word. They use these glyphs to conduct trade.”
Looking all kinds of skeptical, Lehar asks, “So you think they’ll take out the Pax ship for three credits?”
“Each chit is worth a thousand credits. They paid ten chits for me back in the day. Of course, I was younger and loads more bright and bubbly back then.”
“I find that hard to believe. You’re more animated than any brooder I’ve ever met even now.”
Shooting him a quick smile, I shrug. “Thanks. Since I’m not a gun for hire, I’ve got no idea how much to charge them. The thing is, they love to negotiate. If my price is too low, they’ll make a counter offer.”
“If that’s true, we’ll be taking them up on their offer, no matter how absurd it is.”
“Roger that. Pull our fighters back. I don’t want to see them targeted by mistake.”
Lehar’s finger taps out a message and I see them retreat. The insectoids are game changer for the Pax as well. They’ve stopped firing at us and are regrouping around Emf'phet’s ship. “Ha, they’re protecting their pompous coward of a king.”
Lehar shoots me a disapproving look. “General, you mean.”
Waving my hand dismissively, I comment, “Who cares what he’s called? They stopped shooting at us.” Grinning like a mad fool, I lean back in my chair. “I did that.”
“Yes, you did. You’re one helpful little brooder to have around.”
Frowning, I shake my head disapprovingly. “Thanks for that.”
Lehar gestures to the communi-channel. “You got a response from your bug friends.”
Jerking forward again in my seat, I open the message. “They were the nicest masters a slave could ever ask for.” It takes me a minute to make sense of their drawing. “They don’t want credits. I can tell because they drew a slash through the chits and drew something else.”
“It’s the molecular structure of chromite. It’s what powers our fuel rods.”
I open a communi-channel to the Pax. “This is former slave 2701. Cease all hostilities and leave the vicinity immediately or die.”
“That would definitely scare me, if I were a youngling again, that is.”
I stop chewing my bottom lip long enough to drop Lehar a clue. “I’m not trying to scare them. I’m just stating the facts. If they don’t pull back, it’s on them.”
“That’s pretty sassy talk, considering the insectoids haven’t agreed to lend us a hand. They’re powering up their weapons again.”
“Damn fools. If they’re determined to die today, so be it.” I pull up an image of the molecular structure of chromite and draw out 10 chit size chunks. Their response is instantaneous. The insectoids begin obliterating the Pax fleet.
“I’m going to go out on a limb here and say they liked that offer.” Lehar’s dry sense of humor isn’t amusing, but he’s got a point. “How about we go laser out ten standard units of chromite?”
“I’ve got that. You stay here and oversee the destruction of our enemies.”
“Hurry, I want to put distance between us and the insectoids as soon as possible.”
“I thought they were your favorite masters?”
“They were my favorite masters, right up until one of them picked me up with his razor sharp talons and dropped me back into a slave pit.”
“Unpredictable lot, are they?”
“You got that right. Now amscray.”
“Fine, but later we’re going to have a conversation about who’s in charge when Tarion’s down.”
Rubbing the scar on my right hand, I watch the battle taking place. It seems absurd to hire out the heavy
