Chapter 161: [ Book 2 ] Chapter 21: Covert Delivery

The near-capacity tram zoomed along on its frictionless track, dull gray walls of the surrounding tunnel flashing by a hands-width outside the windows. A chime sounded within the tram and a computer voice announced the destination as it halted effortlessly at the platform.

Seated on a bench, Wesley observed the motley collection of passengers step to the doors. Haulers fresh off their ship, workers and admins on shift change, civilians on their way to dinner.

Dash stood among them. He wore a nicer-than-usual set of utilities, looking like a captain about to negotiate a contract rather than the sweaty and lubricant-stained mess that battled the Stardancer’s maintenance backlog the past several days. At the other set of doors stood Gaius wearing stylish overalls and his hair heavily gelled. He waved a hand in small movements, undoubtedly listening to Lady Starlight media on his PD.

Neither of the crew peered back or acknowledged each other. That was by design. There were parts to play to ensure that trouble didn’t await their crew.

The doors parted and they departed with the first wave of passengers. When they were several paces away, Dash announced into the group comm, “Platform is clear.”

Now, it was Wesley’s turn. Per Dash's instructions, Wesley scanned the departing crowd. No stranger glanced in their direction, either lost in their thoughts, or devices, or chatting with each other. Satisfied, he announced, “Departing,” into the group comm.

He stood, straightened his crisp medical utilities, and offered an elbow to the person seated next to him. “This is our stop, my dear.” 

“What would I do without you?” Ruki replied, a playfulness in her voice. She flashed an unobstructed smile at him. The mask covered the rest of her face up to almost the crown of her head. From there, her tendrils hung in straight lines to dangle above her shoulders. Her fitted garment’s two-tone gray and blue diagonal pattern projected a modest styling.

Her slender hand gripped Wesley’s elbow as she accepted the escort offer. She stood, and Wesley led them off the tram. They strolled through the boarding platform at a leisurely pace. Most of the first wave of tram passengers had dispersed into the corridor ahead, both Dash and Gaius out of sight.

“We're off the tram,” Celescia said into the comm. She and Yanna trailed last, their shifting garments styled as if they were on their way to a nice dinner.

Wesley and Ruki paused upon entering the main avenue of the Administration district. The wide corridor stretched into the distance on either side. Overhead, the curved ceiling displays projected a midday sky. Clusters of displays on the corridor walls cycled docking schedules, news, and local advertisements, much of it addressing the charter vote.

Civilians trodded along in both directions. A caretaker Slyvarkian rounded up five younglings who bounced with the limitless energy of youth. A crew of Eviuns clapped their beaks and ruffled their feathers crests at the prospect of a freshly-cooked meal. Three Pree workers hurried by, barking at each other. A cart with disassembled parts trailed them, an acerbic odor of burnt metal wafting in its wake. A Human in a suit too expensive for the crowd almost bumped into Wesley. The man said nothing and kept on walking, his twitching face revealing the tiresome PD conversation distracting his attention.

For a moment, Wesley was so lost in the performance—thinking about a dinner reservation they might have made, or a show they longed to see—that he forgot his only job was to observe those around him to ensure they weren’t being followed.

He swiveled his head as if to take in the public displays and holos. In reality, he scanned the people surrounding them and again found no suspicious characters.

“It’s this way,” Ruki said, pointing to one side.

Wesley ushered her along, continuing their charade.

The surreptitious entrance of the crew and passengers came about when Dash had voiced concerns that the Preservationists might make another move against the troupe on Aurora. The singers thought it unlikely—the station’s conglomerate owners were fiercely independent—but after the events on Sanctum, agreed on taking precautions. They would split upon arrival, the captain and pilot scouting ahead for trouble. The singers had informed their Acculturation contact of the plan and asked him to keep any escorts out of sight but nearby in case of trouble. If the troupe was tailed, then they could steer clear of the contact and possibly coordinate to take down the operatives.

The thought of a counter-ambush unnerved Wesley, but Dash had assured him it wouldn’t come to that. Wesley took the captain’s word but still couldn’t dismiss his fears.

Ruki suggested her cover with Wesley as her companion. Wesley cringed with embarrassment at first, refusing to make eye contact with the others. But he quickly realized he was giddy at the idea and to hell with what the rest thought. He enjoyed her company, and their time together was coming to an end. Now here they were, strolling down the main corridor, and he couldn’t be happier.

Ahead, beyond Gauis’s bobbing head, Dash stood at a food cart, waiting for his stim brew. He’d take up the rear of the formation once the others passed.

The retail and sustenance businesses on either side ceased as they entered the administration block. On one side was a stage and seating area for gathering surrounded by a real garden. A civic center stood opposite, its facade a stretch of glass walls with integrated displays.

“This station is beautiful. I could imagine living in a place like this,” Wesley said.

“You would settle on a station and give up the natural splendor of a gravity well?” Ruki said.

“There aren’t many options for living on a natural body. I supposed if given the choice, I would prefer to be planetside,” Wesley said. He scanned the pedestrians traveling in the opposite direction. He noticed a few of the Pree throwing peculiar glances in his and Ruki’s direction.

“Some people don’t appear to approve of us.”

“They are of the old ways. Most accept the reality of other space-faring races, but many are uncomfortable with interpersonal relationships or even interactions. It’s a delicate situation for the Acculturation movement. We must promote the idea of a galactic community while also maintaining a commitment to Pree culture.”

“We can walk separately if our promenade is inappropriate.”

“Nonsense,” Rsuai said, tightening her grip on his arm. “We’re setting a positive example of interspecies interaction.” Her gaze went distant as they exited the administration block. “Our destination is just ahead.”

Wesley’s heart sunk at the prospect of his walk with Ruki coming to an end. He spotted a quaint aromatics supply store with some sort of vines draped around the exterior shell. He saw the name and almost tripped over his own feet. “Tea with me?”

“I forgot that was opening,” Ruki said.

“We’d better go browse then. Neither of us will be on Aurora very long.”

“But we have a cover to maintain.”

“And that’s exactly what we’re doing,” Wesley said, pulling Ruki toward the side of the wide corridor. “We’re two friends, a Human, and a Pree, bonding over a love of aromatics.”

“I had no idea you had a mischievous spirit,” Ruki said.

They halted at the storefront, browsing the wares. Multiple rows of shelves held drawers with various leaves, herbs, and other organic compounds. Wesley’s mind ran with all the possibilities; combinations he’d tried, others he wished to experiment with. In the foot traffic, he saw Celescia and Yanna pass. Ruki’s face turned down.

“Is there a problem?” Wesley asked.

“Yanna and I had an unpleasant exchange is all. She feels we’re drawing too much attention to ourselves.”

“She fails to understand the concept of hiding in plain sight. It’s basic tradecraft.”

Ruki gave a broad grin. “I’ll let you explain that to her.”

Across the way, Wesley spotted Dash stop in front of a display running through the latest news. His eyes never shifted in Wesley’s direction, but he knew the captain was waiting on them.

When Wesley turned back, Ruki came to him holding two palm-sized containers. She handed one to him. “My treat for the best casual stroll I’ve had in a long time.”

Wesley took the container in his hand. He raised his eyes to meet Ruki’s set of deep-blue.

“I’m glad I could help, but I’m afraid our time is up.”

“Almost,” she said, taking his arm again. “Come, let us enjoy each remaining second.”

---

Dash watched the medtech and his sweet-tempered Pree escort continue on the main throughway. He remained by the wall display, using it as an excuse to scout for any tails. But the woes of the Tyrcellus system were a captivating distraction.

Prominent commentators discussed recent revelations brought to light on social hubs. Reports of financial attacks, property crimes, and disappeared citizens. Most major cities on Preemona now had ongoing protests against the Theocracy. Their Preservationist allies started to counter-protest, and violence ensued.

Independent verification was difficult. Few foreigners were fortunate to have access to the surface, and they stayed in a few of the big cities with spaceports. SecForce inspectors did their best to investigate claims but could only do so much with little to no cooperation from Pree Security forces. That would change if the charter were to pass.

A stream with shaky cam footage caught his eye. Dissenters had occupied a processing dome on Preemona's larger moon. Security commandos raided the facility. Mass casualties were suspected, but the Theocracy wouldn't release details.

Dash had seen similar situation play out from afar. He could smell the stench of coverup and conspiracy. A sudden aire of vulnerability settled over him. The system was one big pressure vessel full of combustible gas, waiting for a faulty wire to spark. He’d already had his life turned upside down by an outsized calamity—the Auturia incident—and had no intention of ever going through something like that again.

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He went to step away when the next news storied began to play. He watched himself weaving the construction cart through the corridors of Sanctum while the operatives gave chase.

“Not even the channel stations are safe anymore,” an stately woman in business attire next to him muttered aloud. She shook her head and stepped away with her rolling luggage.

“Tell me about it,” Dash said. He thought of the generous payment he was about to receive from Celescia's Acculturation friends. It was enough creds to leave Tyrcellus and its turmoil behind and seek a quieter place to hire a capable ops crew and start over fresh.

He re-entered the flow of foot traffic, tailing his crew and passengers. In under an hour, his account would be flush, and he’d be enjoying a delicious meal with an old friend before he left Tyrcellus for a long time.

---

Dash spotted his pilot in front of a restaurant named Tulio’s. He wasn't hard to miss. Three Pree were with him, all of them shimming their hips and twirling their hands as they danced to their synced PD music.

It was obvious to Dash what happened. Gaius's overt dancing and public PD playlist had attracted fellow annoyingly-extroverted enthusiasts. Now, they preened in the throughway like teenagers looking for attention.

He approached his pilot and tapped him on the shoulder. Gaius spun around and had the audacity to pout in the slightest when he saw Dash.

“Where are the others?” Dash asked, ignoring the other three dancing fools.

“In there,” Gaius said, gesturing to the restaurant.

“Let's go. You can play with your new friends later,” Dash said, leaving the pilot behind. Gaius quickly said farewell to the three strangers and hurried after Dash.

The restaurant entrance placed them into a cozy lobby lined with colorful fauna native to Preemona. The interior was dim. Warm light globes dotted the ceiling. Wall displays projected scenery from the Pree homeworld; rolling vistas of crop fields and quaint villages, lush forests, raging rivers, snow-topped peaks. The booths and tables looked like wood construction, though Dash suspected they were printed composites.

A handful of patrons stood in small circles, conversing while they waited for others in their party to arrive. A young Pree male host had already approached the troupe and Wesley. Upon spotting Dash and Gaius, the host signaled for the whole group to follow him to the back.

They passed all the tables, booths, and a few dining pods, pausing to allow a locked door to sense the host approach and slide open. Beyond lay a square vestibule with a door on each wall. The host waited until the door closed behind them before opening the one opposite where they entered.

A private dining hall lay beyond. One side held a buffet topped with covered pans and serving dishes. A table with twelve placements sat in the middle. The other wall held four windows with inset displays looking out on the extent of a city and the swaths of farmland beyond.

Dash was impressed. Whoever built the restaurant had very high standards for quality.

Standing at the head of the table was an older Pree male. Dark spots trickled like raindrops from his forehead, down his jawline, and onto his neck. Thin strips of red face paint drew straight lines from below his eyes down over his jaw. His shortened tendrils teased the fine shirt he wore.

Celescia rushed the few remaining steps to embrace him. The business owner and apparent Acculturation big-shot patted her back while Yanna and Ruki approached. Celescia released him and he embraced the other two singers before taking Celescia’s hands.

“Sisters Celescia, I’m so relieved to see you,” he said.

“It is bittersweet to be back here,” Celescia said, her voice breaking as she spoke. She paused, struggling to keep it together.

He placed a hand on each of her shoulders, a somber expression on his face. “You have my deepest sympathies for the loss of your team. Their sacrifice will not be forgotten. Their stories will be told when we triumph.”

Dash stood there, trying his best to not look uncomfortable. Celescia ceased shaking and composed herself.

The owner’s eyes shifted to Dash. “This must be the crew who saved you.”

“Yes, it is,” Celescia said, stepping back. “Zellis, this is Captain Dash Anderton. Pilot Gaius LASTNAME and medtech Wesley LASTNAME.”

Zellis exchanged a short bow with each of them before peering at Dash again. “You did a great service when you risked your life to help Sisters Celescia. On behalf of the Acculturation movement, I thank you.”

Dash noticed Celescia’s gaze upon him. He gave a meek shrug. “I couldn’t sit by and do nothing.”

“Captain Anderton was promised a substantial payment for assisting in our escape and for transporting us to Aurora. We were unable to compensate him as our account has been frozen. In addition, he was promised consideration for any eligible system contracts,” Yanna said. She appeared to take great joy in pointing out his financial incentives.

Zellis’s expression sagged. “The damn Ministry of Finance must have tracked down your account. I don’t know how this happened, but I assure you, I will rectify it. But don’t worry, captain. I will make arrangements for your compensation. It will take some time, though. Maybe a day or two.”

“Much appreciated,” Dash said. He ignored Yanna, and peered at Celescia. He couldn’t figure out if she wanted him gone, or what was going on in her head.

“In the meantime, why don’t you join us for dinner? We’re the highest-rated restaurant on the station. I'd agree of any station in the entire system,” Zellis said.

“As much as I’d love to, I have an old friend to catch up with. Someone who helped us get priority docking.”

“You must be good friends with them, as it is quite busy at the moment.”

“We go back a ways. And I know you have business to discuss with Sisters Celescia as well.” Dash gestured to his crew. “Sensitive things.”

Zellis gave a sly smile. “I suppose knowing Acculturation's plans for subverting our government with the adoption of the charter is somewhat confidential information.” His smile faded, and he took the formal stance of a host. “Captain Anderton, you have my word you will receive your compensation. As for commercial contracts, I will do my best. Recent events have disrupted the marketplace, as you can imagine.”

“I know. I saw the latest news.”

“If you cannot dine with us, you must at least observe the Sisters Celescia performance tomorrow. I know you had a front-row seat at the lounge on Sanctum, but I promise you, the theater experience here is unforgettable.”

“That’s very generous of you, but we prefer to sleep aboard our ship,” Dash said. He could see agitation on his pilot’s face as Dash turned down the free accommodations.

“But we’d love to attend the show,” Wesley said.

“Yes, we would,” Gaius added and gave Dash a look that dared him to turn it down.

Yanna glowered at the pilot in disbelief. “So you’re a fan now?”

“I appreciate all art,” Gaius said defensively.

“They are free to attend if they wish, Yanna,” Celescia said.

Yanna still gave a harsh stare but said nothing else.

“It’s settled then. We will see you tomorrow,” Zellis said. “My host will escort you out. Again, I cannot express my gratitude enough.”

He bowed, and Dash returned a subdued version of the gesture. He caught Celescia’s eye once more before departing the private room.

Slipping out the entrance with his crew, he pulled up the station map on his PD.

“What’s that face about, Cap?” Gaius asked.

“Nothing,” he said, making it clear there were no follow-up questions. “Let’s go meet Fraenk and have us a little fun. We just pulled in a nice little profit. It’s time to celebrate.”

 

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