AGU SCI 1: The Star Brotherhood (3 page)

"Who's the stranger?"

"I don't know. He's a Terran."

"A Terran? A Terran kills one of our brothers, and you don't report it?"

"I thought you'd know."

"Get back to work, imbecile."

"Uh, can I have Makkod's job now that there's a vacancy?"

"No, his job requires someone with a brain. Now get back to work."

* * *

"What have you learned?" Lippaula asked.

"Makkod died from a laser shot to the heart, boss," Gillanno answered. "He was dead in seconds. Do you want his body?"

"No, let them burn it. I want the man who did it. I want to know why he shot one of our people."

"The why isn't difficult to answer. Makkod picked fights
all
the time with people he thought were weaker. He liked to smash them down so they'd remember who he was and fear him. This time, he picked a fight with someone who wasn't afraid and who wasn't weak. He's a Terran, as Yussosi told us, but he's different."

"Different how."

"His name is Trader Vyx. He's said to be a smuggler. He and his crew of four are laying over while they try to find a cargo."

"What does he smuggle?"

"According to people who've met him, anything that offers a good payday. He doesn't seem particular."

"Do we have him listed in our files?"

"No, but the Raiders had a file on him. They list him as a smuggler and gunrunner. I've uploaded the file to our database."

"He's worked for the Raiders?"

"He's worked for people who have worked for them. His reputation is that he's reliable and always delivers what he promises. But if you cross him or cheat him, you either turn up dead or are never seen again. He's as dangerous as they come, and he's someone you
don't
pick a fight with if you want to continue living. Makkod made a mistake because Vyx is a Terran. He thought him to be naturally weak because Terrans are so much shorter than Uthlarans."

"Could he be working for the Raiders now?"

"They didn't say he is."

"They wouldn't. This could be a move on our operation here."

"But Makkod started it."

"You're
sure
Makkod started it? Absolutely sure? The Terran didn't taunt him into drawing first?"

"No question about that. There was a tavern full of witnesses. Trader Vyx was alone, sitting away from everyone else in the tavern. He was minding his own business, drinking an ale, when Makkod saw him and decided to teach him who was boss in that part of town. But it was Makkod who was taught a lesson."

"This Trader Vyx sounds interesting. I want to meet him. Bring him to me."

"How?"

"Use your imagination."

"And if he doesn't want to come?"

"Bring him anyway."

"Any way?"

"Try not to kill him— yet."

~ June 28
^th
, 2288 ~

Vyx scowled slightly and dropped the spoon into the bowl of stew in front of him where a thick layer of oil floated on the surface. It was still more than half full, but he had eaten as much as he could stand. He was still hungry but not for any more of the awful stew. Although simply listed on the menu board as a meat stew, it had been prepared using Tarlovo. He'd known before he'd ordered, but he'd been wanting to try Tarlovo at least once, so he told the bartender to bring him a bowl. Now he was sorry he had. The stew would probably be repeating on him until dinnertime. What he'd eaten had left a thick coating of fat on his tongue and a briny taste in his mouth.

There was a time when he would have eaten the slop being served in this tavern without giving it a second thought, but no longer. He'd been spoiled by Albert's great cooking. He took a long pull on the mug of ale in an attempt to kill the salty taste, but it lingered, and the greasy odor of the stew floated heavily in the air all around him. Yes, Vyx had definitely become a more discriminating diner since he hadn't been eating slop on a consistent basis.

Still commiserating with himself about the awful stew, he didn't pay much attention to the arrival of the four Uthlarans, at least not until they stopped at the table where he was sitting and turned to face him. All thoughts of the stew evaporated in an instant as he quickly sized up each of the men. As with the previous confrontation in this tavern, he only raised his head enough to see their torsos. His hat brim deprived them of a good look at his face, while he was able to judge them from their attire, stance, and visible weapons.

He instantly knew which was the leader, which would be the toughest to beat in a brawl, which considered himself the fastest draw, and which would be most likely to back off and possibly even run away in a conflict.

Being able to see their faces and eyes would have been a distraction. A Terran couldn't look an Uthlaran in the eyes because their eyes were mounted on thick stalks that extended out from the sides of their head. Typically about half a meter apart, the spread gave them tremendous depth perception, but also made them infinitely more susceptible to damage than the eyes of a Terran, which were partially protected by the skull. Featureless faces, lacking noses and ears, made identification of Uthlarans difficult. Olfactory sensors were located in the skin on either side of their mouth, and auditory sensors were located beneath a thin layer of skin at the top of their skull.

As with the previous confrontation, Vyx didn't initiate conversation. He simply sat there watching for any movement that called for a violent or deadly response.

The leader of the group, obviously unused to being ignored, finally reached out and swept the stew bowl from the table. It went skittering until it ran out of surface, then flew through the air until it hit the legs of another table. The loud crashing noise drew the attention of everyone in the tavern.

"Lippaula wants to see you, Terran," the leader said. "Now."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Gillanno."

"Who's Lippaula?"

"Are you
serious
?"

"I've never heard of him— or you."

"Lippaula is the senior officer of the Star Brotherhood on Bleadalto. When Lippaula sends for you, you don't question the invitation. You simply go."

"I'm having lunch. I was enjoying a delicious bowl of Tarlovo stew, which you just ruined. You owe me the price of the stew."

"Delicious Tarlovo stew? In this place? You are new here, aren't you? Now get up, Terran. You're coming with us, alive— or dead."

Vyx knew he couldn't knock all four of them down by kicking the single chair on their side of the table as he'd done with Makkod, and flipping the table over would simply cause them to jump backward while pulling their lattice pistols. But, then again, causing them to jump backwards would put them off balance and
could
buy him two extra seconds. One or more of them might even trip over his own feet. Vyx decided that flipping the table was his best chance.

Vyx's next decision was when to act. He could either sit there until they made an attempt to drag him out, or he could be proactive. If he waited for them to act, they probably wouldn't be grouped as they were now, so he stood up. As he reached his full height, he was still a good thirty centimeters shorter than the smallest of the quartet, but his shorter stature might make them overconfident. He casually flipped the right side of his cloak over his shoulder so he'd be able to draw his sidearm easily when the time came. The action and reason weren't missed by the four Uthlarans. Vyx had now declared his refusal of their invitation, which he had viewed as simply a ploy that would make it easier for them to kill him while his guard was down or his back turned.

"Hold it, Trader," Gillanno said, obviously nervous. He'd never been in this situation before. Whenever he'd showed up with three of his people and given someone an order, they'd followed it. He began to wonder if Vyx was as good as he believed himself to be, or if it was all bravado. And Lippaula had told him not to kill Vyx— yet. "It doesn't have to end like this. All you need do is go with us to see Lippaula."

"I haven't finished my lunch. And you didn't ask me nicely."

One of the Uthlarans grinned and chuckled, the one Vyx had marked as the most dangerous of the four with a weapon. Like Makkod, he was supremely confident in his ability to outdraw any opponent.

"Shut up, Hoffil," Gillanno said.

"Come on, boss, why are we wasting time with this Terran? Let's just finish this and go have lunch."

"This Terran killed Makkod, you fool."

"So what? I could have beaten Makkod."

"Perhaps, but just barely. So all you know is that this Terran is probably as fast as you, and perhaps a lot faster."

Hoffil stopped grinning as the meaning sunk in.

"Look, Trader," Gillanno said, "Lippaula said to bring you, and we have to bring you, or else."

"Then you have
two
problems."

"Two?"

"One, Lippaula probably told you to bring me back alive, and that's not going to happen. And two, not all of you will be going back to report your failure, if
any
of you make it."

Hoffil scoffed and said, "Yeah, right. You're going to kill all four of us."

"If you're only a little faster than Makkod and are the fastest among the four of you, I will. Makkod was one of the slowest draws I've ever seen."

Hoffil's smirk disappeared. He had finally worked it out that because of his bravado, Vyx was going to shoot him first if it came to a shootout, and a shootout was looking more certain with each passing second.

Gillanno probably understood that he would be the second to die. He knew that Hoffil was faster than himself, so the stranger would have little difficulty killing him if he beat Hoffil to the draw. "Look, Trader, can't we do this peacefully?"

"Sure. You can turn around and peacefully leave, or you can stay and peacefully await the arrival of the body disposal truck. But I expect the bartender will insist that you wait outside, and you won't be in any condition to protest."

Things hadn't gone as expected since the four Uthlarans had entered the tavern, and all four were now in fear for their lives. The Terran was too cool and relaxed. This had to mean that he was supremely confident in his ability to kill all four of them without suffering injury himself. Anybody that confident, and not a young fool, had to be fast— very fast.

Gillanno had sort of backed himself and his men into a corner, but while they were still alive, the situation could be salvaged. "I believe we could kill you if we had to, Trader, and I believe you'd make that necessary, but I fear Lippaula's wrath far more than anything you could do to us if we bring you there dead. I think it better that I report you wouldn't come and allow Lippaula to decide if we should return and kill you."

Vyx knew the little speech was simply a face-saving tactic and watched as Gillanno began backing away from the table. The others took their cue from him and backed away also, but it was possible it was a trick, so Vyx didn't let down his guard until they were out of the tavern. Even then, he didn't totally relax, thinking they might come back in shooting. After five minutes he walked to a window and looked out from behind the cover of a building support pillar. He couldn't see any of the four on the street, so he returned to his chair, took a deep breath, released it, and sat down.

The bartender, waiting until Vyx relaxed, hurried over to pick up the stew bowl and wipe the floor. "I'm sorry about the spilled stew, sir. Would you like another bowl?"

"No. I've lost my appetite."

"I understand."

"How much do I owe you for the stew and ales?"

"Six credits, sir."

Vyx paid and walked to the door, pausing once more to check the street before he stepped outside.

* * *

"He refused to come?" Lippaula asked, incredulous.

"He was prepared to fight if I tried to force him."

"You should have brought some people with you."

"I did. I had Hoffil, Turesst, and Csitte."

"And Vyx was prepared to fight all
four
of you?"

"Yes. And he seemed supremely confident he would win."

"This Trader Vyx becomes more interesting all the time. How many people would it take to convince him to come?"

"I think he would resist any attempt to force him to come."

"Then don't force him."

"I don't understand."

"Go there unarmed, alone, and extend the invitation."

"Go without a weapon?"

"Do you think you're faster?"

"Uh— no."

"Then a weapon would be useless. Invite him to have lunch with me tomorrow, here, at noon."

"I'll invite him if I can find him again."

"We have eyes in every part of town. I'm sure someone will spot the— how did you describe him?— 'most dangerous looking Terran' you've ever encountered."

* * *

"We may have to pull up stakes here," Vyx said during the evening meal aboard the
Scorpion
. "The local head of the Brotherhood sent four of his people to pick me up at the tavern where I killed that Uthlaran. I guess Makkod was a more valued member of the Brotherhood than I thought."

"You killed four more of their people?" Nelligen asked.

"Nah. I got them to back down by putting on my 'meanest, craziest, and most dangerous SOB in the galaxy' act."

"I never get tired of seeing that one," Brenda said with a grin. "You do it so well, yet it's so diametrically opposite of the
real
you."

Vyx assumed the look and said to her, "I only let you think that, little girl," then screamed, "Ouch!" when she poked him in the ribs with her index finger.

"Just a big teddy bear," Brenda said.

"But with huge teeth when I need to use them," Vyx retorted, then grinned.

"So when are we leaving?" Kathryn asked, as she fed a table scrap to her new Earth-species puppy. She had sold the Lyoxma wimlot she'd purchased before their last mission. Although it looked like a cute, cuddly Earth puppy, it usually acted as aloof and temperamental as some purebred cats and jumped around like a monkey. Her new puppy was a Miniature Schnauzer with white and grey fur. It loved to cuddle and would happily spend the entire day in her arms. She was delighted with it. It cost a small fortune, but she had little else to do with her SC salary.