Work in Progress excerpt
Sep. 19th, 2010 06:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltdFrom my Masquerade story for Amber Allure
I felt Vistule’s tractors engage. There was some revving, like the yacht had tried running for it, but then the grappling claw caught, and the airlock tube extended. I waited for the air-exchange cycle to run so we could board. Lista was on the bridge and wouldn’t be down, and Von was busy with flux tubes and converters. But the other eight were there, armed to the teeth, and looking as wicked as possible. Sheer psychology, we convince the crew it would be more painful to fight us than to hand over their stuff. You’d be surprised how often it works.
So we’re ready to take this one, and I got a good look at the hull markings as we crossed the tube. Small, but very, very rich. It belonged to one of the three most powerful families in the galaxy. They formed an uneasy triad that controlled almost all the interstellar shipping and travel.
We swarmed aboard, searching, our beltshields set high enough to deflect most hand weapons. Sure enough, a little bitty laser zapped out from behind a couch, and bounced off Klawk’s shield. Big mistake.
Klawk’s pairman, J’thawn was on the shooter before the rest of us could register the shot. J’thawn is big. Really big. He hauled our little shooter up and held him off the ground as he went into his Big and Dumb Brute act.
“Want play with lil man, Cap!” he announced, holding the boy out for my inspection.
It really was a boy. If he’d seen the backside of twenty, I’d blow myself. While we Cythorian males are limber, we ain’t that limber after twenty ourselves. Pretty as they come and scared shitless being held off the deck by a giant while a lithe guy with a vibroknife circled him.
“Little bastard shot me, Cap. I wanna carve my name on him.” Klawk does crazy a little too well. I’m never sure how good his grip on sanity truly is. I stood back, twirling the end of my mustache. That always unnerves sophistos. It’s such a holodrama touch, and should be silly, but I can make it look evil. I would have let the scene go on a bit, but the others were coming back. It was a small ship.
“He’s the only one, Captain,” reported Lilin. Her pairman, Rasvas, nodded.
“Good haul aft,” Deeg grunted as he and his Bernd dropped a starsilk cloth loaded with goodies in front of me.
“Better haul forward.” Neri and his Mulk delivered a crate of stuff, credits mostly.
“And where were you going with all this, pretty boy? Running away from Daddy?” I asked him. J’thawn hadn’t put him down, but that didn’t stop me from catching his chin in my hand, and running a slow thumb over his bottom lip. So soft, his face and mouth. His breath came unevenly, and I could smell his fear underlaid with arousal.
“It’s my winnings. I went to The Station.” His voice was not as steady as he would have liked it to be. I could smell The Station on him: smoke of hundreds of different plants, alcohol, a faint smell of lots of beings in close proximity, and the odd clay they use for making the gambling tokens there.
“Since when does The Station pay in starsilk and flamegems?” I held up a piece of jewelry. Pretty, expensive and as uninteresting as could be. It had to be if he picked it out. Great houses have the most conservative tastes in jewelry.
“Since I bought a present for my fiancee!” He squirmed in J’thawn’s grip. “Now let me go. No one knows I’m gone and I want to get home before they find out.”
I ignored him and gave a double whistle. Boy, goodies and crew trooped back to our ship. We set back down on our asteroid hiding place, siphoned the air from his ship, and detached.
The kid gawked at us once he was set on his feet in the airlock. We were sight. A lot of freespacers just wear coveralls. I think a sense of occasion is much more fun. Psychology again, letting the prisoners know what they’ve gotten into. I make my crew dress in the old way: big shirts, tight pants. Hats and vests are optional, high boots are not. Velvalon, satinate, feathers and lots of realeather. We look like we just stepped out of a holothriller. No missing limbs though, we aren’t that cliche.
I didn’t like the way Klawk was eyeing the boy. “J’thawn, Klawk get some dinner around. You four,” I gestured at the others, “go figure up the haul. Lilin and Rasvas, get this kid cleaned up and dressed. He’s having dinner with me tonight.” They’d do a fine job. Liln had been a cosmetician, before she accidently married my doctor and became my gunner, and Rasvas would check him over for diseases.
I swept off my hat and bowed over the boy’s hand, “Young master of the House of Shelm, I am your captain, Salzoran. We shall make you as comfortable as possible. Please go with my crew.”
Courtliness seemed to soothe the better-born passengers, making them feel at least they weren’t being robbed by boors and rabble. My crew usually employed it, but J’thawn was too protective of his pairman to remember all the time. Klawk in danger brought out his worst. The Big and Dumb act was mostly that, but J’Thawn wasn’t the fastest wavelength in the spectrum.
Lilin took the boy by one shoulder and Rasvas fell in on the other side. He eyed them, and I could read his plans on his face. They saw it too, and Lilin was braced when he elbowed her in the gut. The blow never connected and she had him in a headlock with a knife at his throat.
“Pretty boy, we can make this easy or hard. I’ll be as nice as you let me, but my Captain gave me an order. You’re gonna clean up for dinner whether you want to or not.” She tickled his neck with the tip of the blade. “Where you gonna go? Huh? Vistule’s not big enough to hide for long. And the air between here and your ship is powerful thin.”
I felt Vistule’s tractors engage. There was some revving, like the yacht had tried running for it, but then the grappling claw caught, and the airlock tube extended. I waited for the air-exchange cycle to run so we could board. Lista was on the bridge and wouldn’t be down, and Von was busy with flux tubes and converters. But the other eight were there, armed to the teeth, and looking as wicked as possible. Sheer psychology, we convince the crew it would be more painful to fight us than to hand over their stuff. You’d be surprised how often it works.
So we’re ready to take this one, and I got a good look at the hull markings as we crossed the tube. Small, but very, very rich. It belonged to one of the three most powerful families in the galaxy. They formed an uneasy triad that controlled almost all the interstellar shipping and travel.
We swarmed aboard, searching, our beltshields set high enough to deflect most hand weapons. Sure enough, a little bitty laser zapped out from behind a couch, and bounced off Klawk’s shield. Big mistake.
Klawk’s pairman, J’thawn was on the shooter before the rest of us could register the shot. J’thawn is big. Really big. He hauled our little shooter up and held him off the ground as he went into his Big and Dumb Brute act.
“Want play with lil man, Cap!” he announced, holding the boy out for my inspection.
It really was a boy. If he’d seen the backside of twenty, I’d blow myself. While we Cythorian males are limber, we ain’t that limber after twenty ourselves. Pretty as they come and scared shitless being held off the deck by a giant while a lithe guy with a vibroknife circled him.
“Little bastard shot me, Cap. I wanna carve my name on him.” Klawk does crazy a little too well. I’m never sure how good his grip on sanity truly is. I stood back, twirling the end of my mustache. That always unnerves sophistos. It’s such a holodrama touch, and should be silly, but I can make it look evil. I would have let the scene go on a bit, but the others were coming back. It was a small ship.
“He’s the only one, Captain,” reported Lilin. Her pairman, Rasvas, nodded.
“Good haul aft,” Deeg grunted as he and his Bernd dropped a starsilk cloth loaded with goodies in front of me.
“Better haul forward.” Neri and his Mulk delivered a crate of stuff, credits mostly.
“And where were you going with all this, pretty boy? Running away from Daddy?” I asked him. J’thawn hadn’t put him down, but that didn’t stop me from catching his chin in my hand, and running a slow thumb over his bottom lip. So soft, his face and mouth. His breath came unevenly, and I could smell his fear underlaid with arousal.
“It’s my winnings. I went to The Station.” His voice was not as steady as he would have liked it to be. I could smell The Station on him: smoke of hundreds of different plants, alcohol, a faint smell of lots of beings in close proximity, and the odd clay they use for making the gambling tokens there.
“Since when does The Station pay in starsilk and flamegems?” I held up a piece of jewelry. Pretty, expensive and as uninteresting as could be. It had to be if he picked it out. Great houses have the most conservative tastes in jewelry.
“Since I bought a present for my fiancee!” He squirmed in J’thawn’s grip. “Now let me go. No one knows I’m gone and I want to get home before they find out.”
I ignored him and gave a double whistle. Boy, goodies and crew trooped back to our ship. We set back down on our asteroid hiding place, siphoned the air from his ship, and detached.
The kid gawked at us once he was set on his feet in the airlock. We were sight. A lot of freespacers just wear coveralls. I think a sense of occasion is much more fun. Psychology again, letting the prisoners know what they’ve gotten into. I make my crew dress in the old way: big shirts, tight pants. Hats and vests are optional, high boots are not. Velvalon, satinate, feathers and lots of realeather. We look like we just stepped out of a holothriller. No missing limbs though, we aren’t that cliche.
I didn’t like the way Klawk was eyeing the boy. “J’thawn, Klawk get some dinner around. You four,” I gestured at the others, “go figure up the haul. Lilin and Rasvas, get this kid cleaned up and dressed. He’s having dinner with me tonight.” They’d do a fine job. Liln had been a cosmetician, before she accidently married my doctor and became my gunner, and Rasvas would check him over for diseases.
I swept off my hat and bowed over the boy’s hand, “Young master of the House of Shelm, I am your captain, Salzoran. We shall make you as comfortable as possible. Please go with my crew.”
Courtliness seemed to soothe the better-born passengers, making them feel at least they weren’t being robbed by boors and rabble. My crew usually employed it, but J’thawn was too protective of his pairman to remember all the time. Klawk in danger brought out his worst. The Big and Dumb act was mostly that, but J’Thawn wasn’t the fastest wavelength in the spectrum.
Lilin took the boy by one shoulder and Rasvas fell in on the other side. He eyed them, and I could read his plans on his face. They saw it too, and Lilin was braced when he elbowed her in the gut. The blow never connected and she had him in a headlock with a knife at his throat.
“Pretty boy, we can make this easy or hard. I’ll be as nice as you let me, but my Captain gave me an order. You’re gonna clean up for dinner whether you want to or not.” She tickled his neck with the tip of the blade. “Where you gonna go? Huh? Vistule’s not big enough to hide for long. And the air between here and your ship is powerful thin.”
