From the Ashes Page 3

  Yosh straightened his back and cleared his throat. He wasn’t fond of telling her Skrill had bullied him. “Well, I—”

  “Don’t worry,” she said and giggled. “When I am finished training you, you shall be able to fight two sylosians at the same time.” She smiled again and turned, flicking the tip of her tail at him, and strolled through the left corridor toward the makeshift arena where they always sparred. They reached it in under a minute, but it seemed an hour to Yosh. He kept looking Assai up and down through the corner of his eye, trying to take in as much of her as possible without staring. Should I tell her she looks amazing today? No, she’s kohiri. Why would she care what I think? Anyway, I’m sure she already knows how wonderful she looks, without me drooling over her.

  She walked with her back straight and her chin held high, and her footsteps never made a sound. Yosh thought she was the embodiment of elegance and grace and beauty, whether she just walked or during their sparring. He wished he could be as graceful as her. Her skin, the short soft fur, it was all so appealing and… touchable. He imagined caressing her arm and how soft and pleasant that would be, but winced as he remembered the puss filled boils covering his own skin. Who am I kidding? With all my boils no one would want to touch me. Even I feel like retching when I touch them. However, the boils had not stopped Assai from gripping him during their lessons. Her fingers were long and strong and her clutch as tough as steel. She would twist his arms, dance around him, and fling him to the ground with the same ease with which Miles had plucked the heavy sacks of frozen dog meat.

  They reached the arena—a former bunk room converted into a training area. The weights, punching bags, treadmills, and mattresses were arranged around the walls so that a square area remained clear in the middle. Assai said this small arena helped the crew stay sane, especially during long voyages. “Sometimes people just want to hit each other”.

  Assai grabbed two thick wooden rods from a pile of weights, belts, gloves, and some other things Yosh didn’t recognize. She threw one to Yosh, and he caught it one-handed. “I’m tired of these sticks. Let’s try with real swords.”

  Assai wrinkled her nose the way she always did when she disagreed. It made her even more adorable. She could convince Yosh of anything just by wrinkling that cute nose of hers.

  “They are not sticks,” she said. “They are swords, wooden swords.”

  Sure, Yosh liked the idea. The Protectors always used swords in the stories he read. But, although swords were probably fine in the old days, he wanted to practice with something more useful. “Even if this sword was real, what use is it against guns?”

  The wooden sword spun and twirled in Assai’s hand, and she stepped toward him, grinning. “I bet you wished you had a sword when you fought the sylosian. Even a wooden sword.”

  She had him there. He tried to conjure something witty to say, but Assai didn’t give him a chance. She swept in close and swung the sword at him from below. He caught the blow on his own wooden sword at the last moment and stepped back from her. She had swung with such force the skin of his palm burned and pain rippled toward his shoulder. There was so much strength in Assai’s small frame!

  He lunged at her, and their sparring session went into full swing. Assai danced around him for another half hour, her blows strong and her feet swift. She landed over fifty blows, on his ribs, his arms, his legs, even his head a few times. Yosh didn’t land a single strike. Hand-to-hand was different. Yosh was at least a foot taller than Assai which gave him an advantage, but she still found ways to best him.

  “Let’s stop for a while,” Assai said. “You did well, but you were not yourself, Yosh. Something is bothering you, yes?”

  Yosh breathed in heavily and stared at her. Was it that obvious?

  She must have noticed his puzzled look. “Kohiri speak through battle more than through words. Something is wrong. I can tell from the way you move.” She stared at him, waiting for an answer.

  Yosh always felt naked before her eyes and he didn’t have enough energy left to lie. “I fear my grandfather and I aren’t safe here anymore. That’s why I want to talk to the captain. We need safe passage off Mandessa. We must abandon our home.”

  Chapter Three

  Captain Dupont stirred in his high-backed leather seat, watching Yosh with sharp black eyes. “Out of the question. You do not realize what you are asking.”

  “Please captain,” Yosh insisted. “We’re not safe here anymore, that much is obvious. My grandfather refuses to acknowledge it, but I am forced to deal with this every day.”

  The captain seemed to consider for a while. It was just the three of them on the small bridge—Yosh, Captain Dupont, and Assai. She stood quietly next to the captain.

  “Ruffians—nothing more,” the captain said, shaking his head. “We all have to deal with bullies at one point or another, Yosh, it is part of life. Dealing with the fear and—”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  The captain frowned and Yosh thought he saw a flash of anger in his eyes.

  “You must understand, it’s gotten worse, and it will continue to do so. My grandfather doesn’t see it because he’s gone to the other settlements five days a week.”

  Captain Dupont exchanged a glance with Assai.

  “This is your home, Yosh,” Assai said. “Would you abandon it so hastily?”

  “Mandessa is the safest place in the galaxy for you,” the captain said. “Trust me on this.”

  Yosh bit his lower lip. What was the captain talking about? “It’ll sound strange, but I have this feeling in my gut.” He clasped the brown overalls above his belly to show them. “I just know something bad will happen if we stay here much longer.”

  The captain waved a hand. He opened his mouth to say something.

  “I know how it sounds,” Yosh said before the captain spoke his mind. “I’m not asking you to do it out of mercy, just as our standing arrangement isn’t out of charity or mercy. I haven’t forgotten you are smugglers.”

  Assai shifted her feet, her streamlined jaw clenching. Yosh saw his words bothered her, but that was the truth after all. They were smugglers and sometimes even pirates. And part of him was glad it made her uncomfortable.

  “Yosh…” Assai started, but Yosh raised a hand to stop her.

  “I was to bring you supplies, valuable ones, that you could sell on the black market, and in exchange you were to teach me to fight, fly a ship, fire a gun, and hack a computer terminal. Isn’t that our deal?”

  “What’s this now?” a voice boomed from behind. “Renegotiating terms? Captain, are you trying to fleece our only customer on this rock?” It was Headly—Big Belly Headly they called him—a huge man with a huge belly and a huge round head. The chief engineer on the ship, and the only engineer. “You forgot about repairing a Mark IV hyperdrive lad, that’s what I’m teaching you. Well, that and how to sabotage one.” The big man grinned sideways.

  “Hello, chief,” Yosh said, mumbling.

  Headly strolled across the bridge and collapsed into a seat next to the captain. “So what’s the deal?”

  Captain Dupont gave Headly and his soiled blue jumpsuit a long disapproving stare, but he soon turned back to Yosh. “Our friend, Yosh Farmer, is entertaining the notion of us taking him and his grandfather off-world.”

  “Is he now?” Headly said, rubbing his fat chin with a large, grimy hand. “Well, that certainly complicates things, doesn’t it?”

  “What? No, no it doesn’t,” Yosh said. “Why would it complicate things? I’ll raid the storage one last time. If some of you join me, we’ll be able to grab a lot more than two sacks, more than enough to pay for our passage off-world.”

  Assai and Headly looked toward the captain. They seemed afraid to speak. They weren’t usually this careful with their words. Especially Headly—he welcomed any opportunity to talk your ear off.

  The captain cupped his hands beneath his chin. “It is not that simple. I must take many things into consideration. Things you
do not know, things you do not understand. You are still too young—”

  Yosh jumped out of his seat at that. “Too young for what?”

  Captain Dupont pointed upward with his chin. “For what lies in wait out there, beyond the blue sky of this peaceful world. There are monsters up there, Yosh. Some of them look like monsters, but most look just like you and I.”

  “I’m not a child,” Yosh said, raising an eyebrow. “It’s been four years since I stumbled onto you and you agreed to train me. I can take care of myself. I want to see what’s out there!”

  Captain Dupont’s eyes widened and his large dark fist slammed hard into the small console set into the armrest. Yosh almost bit his tongue in surprise. Assai flinched. He must be fierce in battle if even Assai fears him, Yosh thought. Headly didn’t stir from his seat, but his double chin trembled as he swallowed. They sat in silence, waiting for the captain.

  “This is not a game,” he said, enunciating every word. “Do not presume to uproot yourself from the only home you have ever known and drag your grandfather after you to some hellhole world, for the sole reason of seeing what’s out there. Adventure has a price, Yosh.”

  The captain’s words echoed through Yosh’s head, his tone more reproachful than he could stand. Shame flushed up his neck to his face and settled there, burning. Is that all I want? Did I imagine the danger and the gut feeling just to go on an adventure?

  Yosh stood, his eyes glued to the floor. Was he as small-minded and selfish as the captain suggested? He nodded to the captain, excused himself and scurried out into the main corridor. I cannot have been wrong, he thought. Could I? He hadn’t imagined Skrill saying ‘hello’ to him for the past three months, that was painfully real, and he had definitely not imagined the bitter looks the other slaves gave him and his grandfather.

  ◆◆◆

  Yosh spent the next few hours brooding in the engineering bay, trying to pay attention to Marge’s lessons. She had been teaching him how to hack a ship’s computer core to reroute power conduits and modify critical functions for months now.

  “All right, now you be careful,” Marge said, her eyes fixed on Yosh’s large but nimble hands work on a tiny data pad connected to one of the engineering terminals. “It’s just like landmines and barbed wire on a battlefield, not that you’d know about those”.

  “I know about land mines.”

  “Anyways, avoid them and you’ll reach your destination. Yeah, that’s it, good. Good. Keep going.”

  Her voice was rough from all the smoking, Yosh figured. She was thirty-something years old, and she’d been with Captain Dupont’s crew for half that long. Yosh tried not to stare at her lips or breasts while she spoke. It wasn’t his fault. Marge always wore low-cut blouses that hugged her body tight. She was also the only human female Yosh had ever seen. Captain Dupont only had one other female crew member beside Marge and Assai, but she was a lorran, like Merril, and Yosh didn’t enjoy interacting with her much. The lorran woman seemed to share Yosh’s feelings.

  “But I’m stuck now,” Yosh said. “I’m close. I almost have access to the core, but… what’s stopping me? The firewalls are down. I broke through every encryption, and I didn’t even get detected. I bypassed all the ‘landmines and barbed wires’. This isn’t fair.” Yosh tapped a finger against the datapad as if it were defective. “What’s happening?”

  Marge gave him a lopsided grin, showing her perfect white teeth. “That, Yosh, is what’s called a builder’s code.”

  Yosh frowned at her, waiting for an explanation.

  “Well, when people first started fighting in space, with ships I mean, there was always the danger of having some undetected bastard sneak aboard, take over a terminal and access a ship’s main systems. Once they did that, you can imagine the outcome for the vessel in question.” Marge pulled out a hand-rolled cigarette from somewhere behind her and put her lips around it.

  Yosh envied that cigarette. It looked squashed, but being squashed by Marge’s generous lips didn’t seem too appalling to him.

  Marge lit the crumpled cigarette with a small metal lighter. “Want one?”

  “My grandfather was clear about not wanting me to smoke.” Yosh pursed his lips. This was the first time in four years Marge offered him a cigarette. “So, yes. Please.”

  Marge shrugged, puffing on her crooked cigarette. She pushed another crumpled white cylinder between Yosh’s lips and lit it. “Inhale. There you go…”

  Yosh’s throat stung, and he felt sharp pricks in his lungs. He held back a cough and blinked fast to remove the sting from his eyes. “It’s good,” he said, banging a fist against his chest.

  “Glad you like it,” she said, chuckling. “As I was saying, to remedy this small inconvenience, smart people created a built-in systems code, the builder’s code they called it. They didn’t even want to give the builder’s code to the ship crews at first.” Marge let a long, thin sliver of silver gray smoke escape her lips. It snaked upward, brushing past her aquiline nose and past her green eyes all the way to her fiery orange hair. Part of her hair draped to one side over her forehead. “Captains and crews protested and, eventually, they received the codes. It was broken into five pieces though, since it was too dangerous for just one or even two officers to have it. Usually, the captain and his senior officers have a piece each. The captain also chooses a random member of the crew to keep the last piece of the code. His identity remains hidden even from the senior officers.”

  “Why so cautious?” Yosh unplugged the datapad from the terminal. He forgot about the cigarette fuming between his fingers. “I mean, the senior officers are trustworthy, right?”

  Marge sat back in her seat and sucked on her cigarette. The tip glowed and bathed her sharp cheekbones in bright light. “Sure. Don’t mind that last bit. There’s lots of ways enemies can get the builder’s code, so precautions are necessary. Sometimes, it’s happened that enemies access a ship’s systems using just three parts of the code.”

  The light was dim in the engineering bay and every time Marge took one of her long puffs on the cigarette, her breasts inflated and the dim red light flashed against them. Married, Yosh thought. She is a married woman. He turned his head back to the terminal and cleared his throat. He dropped the half-burned cigarette to the floor.

  “There’s a tale amongst smugglers,” Marge continued unperturbed, “a cloak and dagger Holy Grail, if you will. It’s said a database exists containing all the builder codes ever issued. A Protector database.”

  Yosh’s attention piqued.

  Marge smiled at that. “I think it’s why they were so good. Sure, they were fierce warriors, but they relied more on stealth and cunning, infiltration and sabotage. The blasted arkanians hated it, but there was nothing they could do, short of building another fleet.”

  Yosh leaned toward her. “How do you know? Is the database real? Is it still be out there?”

  Marge’s cigarette was a stub now, but she still puffed on it. “Many say it’s just a tale, but the Protectors weren’t dumb, nor were they superhumans. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure they could hack into a ship’s systems just as quick as you can, but they wouldn’t have cracked a builder’s code on the spot, just like you can’t.” She smiled a roguish smile, dumped the smoking stump on the floor and crushed it underneath her boot.

  “But why is it a ‘Holy Grail’?” Yosh asked. “I mean, if it exists, it must be ancient, almost a hundred years old. The codes probably don’t work anymore.”

  “Are you calling my great-grandfather a liar, Yosh?”

  “No.”

  Marge smiled again. “Good, ‘cause he’s not. Doesn’t matter how old the database is, since no one has built any new ships since the war. The arkanians are the only ones with big ships now—battlecruisers, carriers, dreadnoughts—old models, each one, and they’re all in that database. Not that modest smugglers like us would ever hit such a ship. Even the worlds allied with the Arkanian Empire during the war weren’t allowed to build ne
w ships, and the arkanian military took the ships they already had.” She waved a hand toward the heavens. “Nine out of every ten ships we meet on our runs—warships, transports, patrol vessels, passenger liners, cargo boats, you name it—are old models. That database is gold, Yosh.” She ruffled his mop of stringy black hair that sometimes impaired his vision, as if being nearsighted wasn’t enough, and strolled past the bulk of the hyperdrive engine toward the door. “We’re done for tonight.”

  Yosh watched Marge from behind as she strolled to the door. Bob would probably kick his ass if he found out what Yosh thought of his wife.

  Marge tapped a panel near the door. “Bob! Bob, where are you, you sorry excuse for a husband?” Sometimes Marge and Bob’s marriage didn’t seem so sacred to Yosh.

  “What, woman? I’m busy,” a burly voice crackled back through the intercom.

  “Busy? You’re wasting time with that bonehead Miles, aren’t you?”

  A slight delay in Bob’s response. “No…” he said, his voice uncertain.

  “Well your wife and superior officer needs ya, so dump that sack of monkey brains and report to our quarters on the double.” Her tone changed now. It sounded… inviting. “I’ll teach you what ‘busy’ means.”

  Miles’s indignant response crackled through in the background. “Monkey brains? What does that even mean?”

  “Quiet,” Bob said. Yosh could almost hear him grinning through the static of the intercom. “Yes, ma’am! Reporting for duty.”

  ◆◆◆

  The ship sitting on the largest and only landing pad in Shacktown seemed to struggle to stay in one piece. How in the galaxy did this scrap of twisted metal travel through space, not to mention do any hyper-jumps? Still, the rusty box came to Mandessa each year to trade.

  On his way back from tending the herd, Yosh had circled the hill Shacktown sat atop. For sure, Skrill waited for him in the same place he always did, so he avoided it. Yosh’s eyes drooped, and he walked as if through thick molasses. After Marge left him in the engineering bay last night, he considered returning to Captain Dupont. He needed to say something, but what? Should he apologize? Should he insist? He decided to ignore the matter until he rested and cleared his head, but by the time he got home, he had only three hours of sleep left. The ache between his legs and flashing images of a naked Marge denied even this shred of rest. Yosh tried his best to get some sleep; two hours were always better than none. He learned that the hard way, ever since he started sneaking out at night.