Story #138 - Meeting Space

Meeting Space

The hypodrive spinning down told Beezil Gant all he needed to know. Diving for the map console, he double-checked his route calculations. He had done the same before he left Rynnthar, since cutting across Dominion space was about the stupidest thing a freighter captain could do.

If said freighter captain also happened to be smuggling Light, a drug banned on every world under dominion control, the “stupid” factor increased significantly.

The comm system crackled out a warning and Beezil put on his best “I am completely innocent” face. It wouldn't fool the Commander of the other ship, but at least it would be a starting point for discussion. Tapping the respond control, he steeled himself for the worst.

An attractive female Karato appeared on the screen, lean feline look marred only slightly by the black armor that covered her up to her neck. The small cap that all Dominion officers wore only added to her raw appeal, but Beezil knew that Karato women were among some of the most emotionally charged in the galaxy. That this one was leading a Dom ship meant that she was both extremely talented and even more aggressive than her companions on board – no mean feat in an empire of planets build on conquest and destruction.

“Power down your engines, merchant,” she hissed across the comm line, “and prepare to receive a Dominion boarding party.”

Beezil affected a confused expression, one that was not entirely feigned. “I apologize, Great Mistress,” he said quickly. Flattery could go a long way with the Doms. “I had not realized I was in your space. My charts, they must be off.”

She shook her head quickly, whiskers whipping forward and back. Silver hair marked her as one of the upper caste in the Karato hierarchy, which made him wonder what she was doing out the in Black of space. Most high-born Kats worked either directly for the Dominion government on their homeworld or lived in pampered indulgence; seeing one that had chosen a life in space made Beezil wonder why.

More importantly, it made him wonder just how crazy she was.

“There are not off, merchant. You remain in neutral space, but my officers inform me that you are shipping contraband. Boundaries mean nothing to the Dominion in this regard – you were headed for our space, and you will be searched before you reach it.”

Beezil felt a wild hope flare up. He knew that no Cooperative ships were nearby, but they took the incursion of the Dominion into neutral territory very seriously.

“I'm afraid that won't be possible, Great Mistress,” Beezil said as meekly as he could manage, dropping his eyes. Her snarl in response was enough to tell him she was displeased.

“What?” Her voice was a ripping growl. “Perhaps you don't understand the situation, merchant. I have a fully-armed Tellor-class warship here, and its weapons are locked on your ship. If you do anything but exactly what I say, I will open fire and scatter your atoms to the Black.”

“You will not.” Beezil said it firmly, but kept his eyes down. This would be the tricky bit.

“Demor!” She called to someone behind her. “Make sure you have -”

“Attack me and the Cooperative will know everything,” Beezil cut her off. “I've been recording to a small stasis-pod in the hold since you contacted me, and at the first sign of trouble I'll be jettisoning it with a course to the nearest Coop base. It's cloaked, so finding it will prove a challenge for your men. I'm sure they will track it, eventually, but by that time it will be too late.”

The Karato glared at him, but said nothing. She knew as well as he did that the Cooperative had been looking for a reason to make an example of the Dominion in this sector, and such a recording would do the trick. Beezil would be dead, but the Doms would take heavy losses as the Coops came swarming across the border.

Of course, the recording was a lie. He had sold his last probe to a Wormling three planets back, and it had been a piece of junk when Beezil bought it. He had no hope of affording a cloak-enhanced probe, but hopefully the Kat wouldn't know that.

He could see the hesitation in her eyes, but there was a wild fierceness there, a desperation for action. Likely, it stemmed from her position as one of the exalted of her race; others on her ship would expect her to be weak and foolish, and she would have to prove them wrong at every turn in order to earn their respect.

“I am merely a merchant, Great Mistress,” he went on, “and your massive ship has thoroughly unmanned me. I admit, without even the need for boarding, that I carry thee glots of Hoba paste. It was meant for a preferred contact on one of your outer worlds, but I confess that I am fully aware it is illegal there.”

Her eyes lit up. “Yes! Hoba paste has long been illegal in this sector. You will not be allowed to carry it any further.”

“Of course,” he bowed his head again. “Allow me to jettison it from the fore of my ship. You may scan and destroy it at your leisure, and we can both proceed, chastised in our own way.”

The Kat considered for a moment and then nodded. She had little other choice but to board or destroy him, and both of those options would – so far as she knew – lead to war. She hadn't called his bluff, which made her either very new or shrewd enough to know when to back off.

“Very well.”

Beezil nodded and jettisoned the paste. Every good smuggler in the sector had “loss cargo” that could be sacrificed should the need arise, and the paste was one of the most effective types he had found. Worth a great deal to the right buyer, the paste made the Doms feel as though they had accomplished something, while still letting him continue on with what was more important.

There was a detonation in front of his ship and the cabin shook slightly. The Kat's face took on a look of feline satisfaction, and then she cut the channel without so much as a goodbye.

Beezil waited until the other ship had disappeared before altering his course. His other mission could wait; the Ministry would want to know what their best agent had found.

- D