Dragon's Bargain Read online

  Dragon’s Bargain

  A Space Opera Adventure Story

  Richard Parry

  Contents

  The story so far…

  Undercut

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  About the Author

  Also by Richard Parry

  Glossary

  EXCERPT: GANYMEDE PLAGUE

  Waking the Dead

  DRAGON’S BARGAIN copyright © 2019 Richard Parry.

  Cover design copyright © 2019 Mondegreen.

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13 ebook: 978-0-473-46898-9

  First edition.

  No parts of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form without permission. Piracy, much as it sounds like a cool thing done at sea with a lot of, “Me hearties!” commentary, is a dick move. It gives nothing back to the people who made this book, so don’t do it. Support original works: purchase only authorized editions.

  While we’re here, what you’re holding is a work of fiction created by a professional liar. It is not done in an edgy documentary style with recovered footage. Pretty much everything in here was made up by the author so you could enjoy a story about the world being saved through action scenes and clever dialog. No people were used as templates, serial numbers filed off for anonymity: let’s be honest, October Kohl couldn’t be based on anyone real. Any resemblance to humans you know (alive) or have known (dead) is coincidental.

  Want updates from Richard Parry? Sign-up and get a welcome bundle at https://www.mondegreen.co/get-on-the-list/.

  Find out more about Richard Parry at mondegreen.co

  Published by Mondegreen, New Zealand.

  For Sci, and swapping lingo to help.

  The story so far…

  Grace Gushiken’s settled into life aboard Starfire Station. The ebb and flow of people gives her a hundred places and ways to remain unseen from the watchful eyes of those who hunt her.

  Since a berth doesn’t come cheap, Grace and Cam are working together to sell the plans they stole from the Empire’s man, Max Conyers. Max is nobody’s fool; he knows when he’s been double-crossed, and hunts the thieves who took the top-secret data in his care.

  Starfire Station might be a little too hot to handle…

  Undercut

  Grace’s sword felt as heavy as her sins. She followed Cam, an assassin at his back, waiting to strike.

  Cam walked the halls of Starfire Station, unconcerned. He didn’t know where she was. Cam couldn’t feel the blade’s readiness to separate all the messy parts that made up a man. He also couldn’t feel the presence of his pursuers.

  They were Grace’s prey.

  There were three in total, not even a proper handful. They wore no livery, but Grace knew the cant of their step. The way they strode the metal decking said, I’m used to starships riding the hard black. Empire agents, sent to take her friend away. They reeked of hunt/savage/kill. It made her skin crawl.

  We had a deal, Max. Grace gritted her teeth, suppressing a snarl. The whole point of not killing Max Conyers was so he wouldn’t kill Cam Redwood. It was a mistake Grace could remedy if she managed to get Cam out of this alive. And herself, because these didn’t walk like Marines. They moved like spies, glancing at all the shadowy places a girl might hide, all without seeming to look at anything at all. Fingers never far from the hilts of blades or butts of blasters. Too-casual, too-nondescript clothes, giving them a faceless appearance like the teeming thousands of spacers onboard. They would be skilled at the art of killing.

  Cam slipped into a turbo lift. The car would take him a klick or more to the top decks of the station. Few merchants went up there. It was where the Guild outpost was, tired Engineers waiting to repair the merchantliners passing through. Grace hadn’t been there yet.

  It doesn’t feel right to spill blood where the best and brightest fix the things that keep us all alive. Engineers were the lifeblood of the Empire. Their Guild kept the Bridges working, Endless drives running, and made sure hulls kept O2 inside a starship. Grace wouldn’t bare her blade in their company. I might need them one day.

  The elevator Cam took had glass walls, viewing the magnificent open central core of Starfire. The station was a massive cylinder in space, the interior hollow, with walkways spanning the width like a hundred silver threads. Grace watched him enter, then sprinted past the elevator. A quick jump over a railing set her atop the elevator. She landed light and easy on the balls of her feet, making no sound. The elevator rose smoothly, evidence that while Starfire might be old the station’s Engineers kept things working right.

  The car rose, the air whipping Grace’s hair around her face. Cam’s followers were left far below as the elevator lapped up the meters, racing to the station’s highest point. Grace allowed herself a grin at the speed of movement. It felt like she rode the wind itself as she balanced atop the elevator, sword in one hand, freedom in the other.

  All too soon the car came to a stop. Another would be along soon enough to deliver Cam’s pursuers to the Guild’s level. Grace waited for Cam to disembark, her friend still unaware of where she was. As the elevator began its long trip down the two-klick length of Starfire, she hopped off, landing on a concourse that smelled of grease, ozone, and burnt metal. A few surprised folk saw her from within the elevator, its glass walls hiding nothing. Grace gave a cheery wave as the car descended from view.

  Get to work.

  The concourse was large, all manner of mechanical repair or manufacture possible here. Hull welders vied for space next to Guild fabricators, their massive material printers bursting with light and energy as ship parts were minted wholesale. White and yellow sparks flared and danced from a cutter’s doorway as a tough-looking woman in an Engineer’s rig shouted at a man who looked like he couldn’t care less. The discharge of a capacitor blew a window to pieces two hundred meters along, causing swearing and cursing but also good-natured ribbing.

  Grace stared, wide-eyed. She’d never seen the magic of starships before. This was where they bottled nuclear fury and powered mighty ships through the long night. For the barest fraction of time she wished to be one of them, to lend her hands and heart to making the universe better.

  The weight of her sword reminded her that could never happen. Three Empire men hunt your friend. You can’t make drive cores, but you can keep him safe.

  The span of Starfire’s end cap was a mighty piece of metal. Vines grew along the support struts. The peace of Earth foliage vied with Engineering marvels. It was pretty enough, the gnarled branches of the vines showing life’s desire even out here among the stray dust and radiation of the hard black.

  It would make a good hiding place.

  Grace clambered up a conduit, reached a spar, and hoisted herself into the foliage. Hydroponic equipment snaked among the vines. She placed her feet carefully, using the leaves as cover.

  Thirty seconds after Grace hid herself from casual eyes, the elevator returned. It disgorged a load of passengers including the three Empire agents. They gave a quick look around, then padded in the direction Cam had gone. Interesting. How do they know where he’s going?

  Grace followed from above, keeping her steps noiseless, taking care to not disturb the leaves she moved through. The three men spread out, one hugging a wall, the other closer to the central core’s railing, and the third taking point.

  The man near the wall passed a recycling chute. It was off the concourse proper in a garbage collection area. The agent no doubt figured it a good place for Cam to hide, but Grace thought it an excellent place to take care of him without anyone noticing. Grace darted forward, dropping from the branches. Her steel stayed hidden, the long hard length of her scabbard rapping against
the man’s skull. He dropped without making a noise.

  Grace grabbed him, stuffing him into the recycling chute. It was a long ride down to Starfire’s material reclamation bays. The automated systems there, well used to the antics of errant children riding what was effectively a two-klick slide, would put the man aside and call authorities.

  One down. She’d lost sight of the one on point, but the man by the railing looked too interested in an airlock ahead. Grace padded through the concourse, ducking around an automated loader. She slid through a clump of Engineers. The signature four-armed rigs they wore gave enough stray visual noise to hide Grace in plain sight.

  The agent she hunted opened the airlock, nosing inside. Grace approached, tapping him on the shoulder. The man whirled, a blaster clearing its holster. She knocked his wrist with her scabbard, kicked him in the groin, then brought her elbow up in a savage blow to the man’s jaw.

  He slumped into the airlock like a thrown pillow. Grace palmed the airlock controls, setting the unit to maintenance mode. It meant no one would open it from the inside without station authority, but also meant the outside was secure. Two down.

  The third was still out of sight. Grace glimpsed Cam far ahead. She ran in pursuit. It was almost her undoing as the third agent lunged at her from a nook, the blue arcing tip of a shock rod almost hitting Grace in the face.

  She blocked the shock rod with her scabbarded sword, old wood clacking against new ceramic and plastic. The man lunged again, the shock rod’s tick-tick-tick hungering for Grace’s skin. She turned her body aside, capturing his arm and the rod, then twisted. The man’s elbow popped, his eyes bulging as he screamed. She took the shock rod from him, pressing the tip to his chest. He convulsed as volts coursed through him, then dropped to the deck, shirt smoking.

  And that’s three.

  Grace calmed her breathing. Cam was fine. She opened her comm. “Hey.” Grace saw Cam jerk to a halt ahead, looking around.

  She watched as he looked about, didn’t find her, sighed dramatically, and opened his own comm. “Grace? I thought we agreed you’d let me take care of a little business.”

  “That’s right. I had some of my own to take care of too.” She nudged the unconscious agent at her feet.

  “Well, stay away. I’m meeting a contact.” Cam’s eyes roamed, trying to find her.

  Grace hunkered against a wall. “What kind of contact?”

  “The black-market kind. They hide up here among the Engineers. We’ll sell the data you stole, make our fortune, and retire.”

  Grace saw a man approach Cam. She knew him from the way he walked and the way he swaggered. His sallow face and gaunt frame were familiar to Grace. “I think it’s more likely you’ll get kidnapped by the Empire again.”

  “How so?”

  “Because the man you’re meeting is Leslie Casque.” Grace closed her comm, heading toward Cam and Leslie. This was about to get ugly.

  Chapter One

  Leslie hadn’t changed much since Grace last saw him. He’d been in a cell, waiting on the Empire’s justice. Now he had the same hunched look and hateful eyes but breathed free air with the rest of them.

  Don’t judge too harshly. You’re hunted by the evil and the wicked, too. She clambered back to the vine terrace above Starfire’s Engineering level, working her way toward Cam and Leslie.

  Grace needed to get close to hear their conversation over the ruckus of this deck. The scream of saws and roar of plasma welders made this an excellent place to have illicit, hard-to-hear conversations. She crept above them, making sure the leaves around her didn’t tremble at her footsteps.

  Cam fingered his comm like he expected Grace to materialize from it. He’d reattached the device to his belt, but his nervousness showed. He’s not like you. He’s not used to wearing masks and lying to everyone. “Casque, is it?”

  Leslie, unaware of Grace above him, nodded. “You’ve got something to sell.”

  “I do,” agreed Cam. “Do you want to do the dance where I say it’s worth a fortune, you tell me it’s not, and we eventually argue until settling on a middle figure?”

  “Umm.” Leslie took a step back, eyes darting about. This wasn’t music he knew.

  “I didn’t think so. Me neither.” Cam put hands on hips. “Here’s how it is. I’ve got the designs for a new breed of super soldiers. The Empire’s cooking ‘em up in a devil oven, and when they’re baked it’ll be the death of us all.”

  “What?” Leslie looked around, as if super solders would materialize. Grace held herself still, but he didn’t glance up.

  “Doesn’t matter!” Cam gave a hearty laugh. “Because by then we’ll be rich. We’ll retire to our own private moon. Ship in good Europan whiskey, beer from Earth, and food from anywhere we please.”

  “Sounds good.” Leslie rubbed his chin. “Back to the part about devil ovens and super soldiers. Sounds implausible.”

  “Of course it does. It’s what makes it so expensive.” Cam leaned on the word. Grace smiled. She didn’t know Cam was good at negotiation. He did better than she could.

  “My cut’s fifty percent. No negotiation.” Leslie’s tone was hard like the decking at his feet.

  Grace sighed, slipped from the vines, and landed behind Leslie. Her sword gleamed as she held it at his neck. “Hello, Leslie.”

  “I meant five percent.” Leslie didn’t move a muscle apart from his mouth.

  Grace got a little closer, so he’d be sure to hear what she said. He hadn’t turned to see her face but she was pretty sure he knew who held a blade to his throat. “I don’t think you have a buyer. You’re a liar and a thief. You stole my sword and tried to parlay away my freedom.”

  “I do!” Leslie held up his hands.

  “Who?” Cam eyed Grace’s prisoner with interest. An Engineer from a loading dock glanced their way, then shook their head in an expression of disgust, as if swords and fights were common here. Might well be. This is where the dirty deeds get done.

  “Can’t say.” Leslie shifted his head a fraction as if looking for a way out.

  Grace pressed her blade harder against his skin. “I think you can. I reckon if you tried really hard, you could come up with a name.”

  “Would you believe it’s complicated?” Leslie sounded hopeful. “Conyers sent me here. He said, ‘No one double crosses me, Leslie,’ and since I know Grace, here we are.” That felt fair to Grace. Leslie was all panicked run/flee, but she didn’t catch lie/lie from him. While she had a deal with Conyers to not kill Cam, her copying the data might countenance a breach of their agreement. “But! I also have a buyer.”

  Fear/truth oozed from him, slick and clammy. Grace hissed, “A name. Who is it?”

  “Umm.” Leslie looked about to tell all when a shout went up from across the concourse. Max Conyers in all his bulk and majesty stood with a handful of Empire soldiers, plasma carbines at the ready.

  Grace removed her sword from Leslie’s throat, stepping in front of him. She held her blade at guard. Leslie, no stranger to bad situations, turned and ran. Cam jabbed a finger after Leslie. “You get him. I’ll try to draw these clowns away.”

  Grace nodded, then sprinted after Leslie. He had a decent head start on her, but she’d trained as a killer in a den of spies and assassins. She was good at running people to ground. Leslie barged into people ricochetted off crates. Grace slipped through the chaos like a leaf on the wind.

  She got close to Leslie, but he slipped into a turbo lift, the doors sliding closed. Grace saw him fist-pumped the air. The elevator started down.

  Grace launched herself over the railing, landing atop the elevator. This time the joy of movement was overlaid by the thrill of the hunt. The car descended to the middle of Starfire, door easing open into the crowds of the merchant decks. Leslie burst forth like a cork from a bottle. Jumping clear, Grace ran after.

  The chase was a wild splash of color and noise through teaming throngs of people. Grace held her scabbarded sword low, running like a panther. Les
lie barged ahead, arms flailing, his panic/flee/safety a beacon she could follow in any storm. It made her heart hammer in response.

  She had a feeling Leslie was heading to the Immortal. A young man with no ties aboard Starfire Station couldn’t have a buyer unless he’d arrived with one. Grace broke from following Leslie, slipping through a crowded set of stalls selling off-world silks and textiles. She made it to the docking nexus beyond which the Immortal’s airlock waited.

  Grace leaned against a wall, stilling her breathing. Leslie rounded a corner, head turned back the way he’d come as he checked for followers. He slowed his run, the smile on his face turning to dawning horror as he took in Grace waiting for him. “Hello, Leslie.”

  “But. Umm. The running!” Panic/panic/confusion. She pushed the sickly feelings aside. “How did you get here?”

  “Same way you did, but faster.” Grace pushed away from the wall. “Shall we go meet Captain Topham?”

  Fear/confusion. “How did you know…” Leslie trailed off, his voice resigned. “The Empire will kill me.”

  “You leave the Empire to me.” Grace straightened her jacket, the black form-fitting fabric holding her close. “When I boarded the Immortal, it was because no one asked too many questions. But none of you are pirates, so what’s going on?”

  “It’s best if you come inside.” Leslie moped past Grace, heading for the Immortal. Since the crew cleared station security they could come and go as they pleased. “The captain will explain everything.”