chp 3a

“How’s visual?” Ben asked.

“Same old same old.” Came Bert’s reply.

“I wonder how long the fighting’s been going on… and who in the world is fighting whom?” Ben thought aloud.

“I’d say… Oasis City versus some unknown… Well, that doesn’t make any sense. We’ve not had any sort of fighting since the Great War so long ago!” Bert muttered.

They were both silent for a while.

“Have you ever heard the legend of the storm pirates?” Bert asked.

“Yeah… somebody said something to me before. What’re they called?” Ben replied.

“They have a name? I thought no one knew their name or what planet or…. tribe they come from. They’re just space cannibals and storm pirates right?”

Ben shook his head. He’d heard their name used before.

“I know the survivors of the holocaust didn’t even speak of the incident. They just tried to rebuild their lives. But the way Oasis City developed, you know that they’ve never forgotten,” Bert continued.

“Reavers! That’s what they’re called,” Ben finally said.

“Wait a minute. I thought the Reavers went extinct a thousand years ago. They were a wandering tribe of canninbals with no home planet. What’s more, they’re from a system many many many hyperspace jumps away,” Bert protested, “Did I mention many many many many?”

“I know. I know. But there was this old man I met once who was from Oasis City and he mentioned that name.” Ben insisted.

Bert scratched his head.

The Reavers were not part of their world. Inter-system travel had improved over the last thousand years but for them to have appeared in this quadrant, in this system was nothing short of a miracle. Indeed, almost as miraculous as the homecoming of the Federation Starship Voyager in the history books.

But Empires come and go, Alliances form and disband and Federations break up. Evil does not change nor does the fight against it. Still the kind of extreme darkness of heart that the Reavers represented was too hard to imagine.

“The cargo we are carrying has to do with turning this desert planet into a garden paradise,” Ben finally said.
Bert turned to look at Ben. “Someone gave us cargo of such GREAT IMPORTANCE?” he asked, an incredulous look on his face.

“Makes sense doesn’t it? We’re not big players in the underground, no one really bothers about us. We’re legit enough so Police don’t have files on us. Basically we’re under the sensors,” Ben answered.
“But cargo of this magnitude… we don’t even have sidearms! This ship is not armed! Even though it is a decommissioned Raptor class craft and it handles pretty well, what chance would we have had if the enemies of Oasis City found out what we were carrying?” Bert blurted.

“Well, that’s where you come in. I had a feeling you might just be as good as you claimed to be. Someone equal to flying the Millennium Falcon. Sure, Zoey isn’t anything like the Falcon but you do get her to do stuff I wouldn’t think possible.” Ben shrugged.

“Right…” Bert replied, wondering if that was flattery or compliment and did not know whether to laugh or get angry.

Sure, nothing they had done so far would have gotten them into any kind of trouble. They were not mercenaries and they did run of the mill jobs. In fact, most of the time, they just transported goods to places where he had managed to book gigs. And Zoey, as the ship was called, did handle pretty well. Bert had scrapped his beat up old personal class transport and Ben had not asked for any more payment for Bert’s lodging other than his piloting and minor engineering skills. So Bert was cash rich. More than when he was stuck with his old transport. Now he could take gigs outside the local system. Which was how they ended here on Oasis City. However, given the information that Ben had just revealed, maybe the gig was just to give them legitimate cover to visit Oasis City.

“Well, I’ve always tried to avoid arming Zoey. But this was to be her last trip as an unarmed vessel,” Ben went on, “Part of the payment was to be in arms.”

Bert nodded thoughtfully.

“Then again, we might have to buy a new ship,” Ben said.

“Whoa. What’s wrong with Zoey? She’s fast, handles well, and being ex-military, she could be armed to the teeth if we could afford it,” Bert argued.

“That would be illegal. A couple of projectile guns or a laser gun or two perhaps. I sincerely doubt we’d get the license to arm Zoey to the teeth. She was a missle boat y’know?” Ben said, “we’d have to be part of a system or planetary militia to have that kind of armament. And then you’d been stuck running the same circuit, telling the same people the same jokes… unless you’ve got new material.”

Bert gave Ben a hurt look, “Thank you very much.”

“C’mon, it’s true! We’ve been partners for about a year and travelling to different places for every gig. You haven’t had to revisit any place so far,” Ben continued.

That was true. All of Bert’s appointments had somehow led them closer and closer to Oasis City. As if some inexorable hand was drawing the two of them toward this point in time.

“Who’s winning?” Bert asked.

“Don’t know,” Ben replied looking the sensor screen, “We’re running on passive scanning here. Don’t want to broadcast our position.”