Morwyn stopped and blinked. “We have wealth. We have rare minerals and compounds. Rhodium, platinum, lithium—numerous radioactives as well. We can provide tons of any of them.”

  My eyebrows shot up, these were indeed valuable, trade-worthy assets. Still, my enthusiasm was somewhat dampened. Hard Conclave credits were infinitely preferable to trade goods, items which I would have to market myself.

  “Hmm…the commodity prices on platinum are weak, but lithium is often used for batteries. Rhodium would be the best, as it has many useful industrial applications as a catalyst.”

  “Very well then. Rhodium it shall be. Tons of it.”

  I smiled. “Perhaps the easiest way would be to trade these two on the basis of weight? An equal measure of rhodium and rifles?”

  “Oh… I suppose. But I’m not sure this single ship can hold enough of either. You’ll have to make many trips.”

  I frowned. “Exactly how big of an army do you plan to equip with Sardez rifles?”

  “Two, maybe three hundred thousand men.”

  I snorted and stopped tapping numbers on my battle computer. “You’re dealing with the wrong man. I can’t deal in that kind of volume. Three hundred thousand? Is every man on the planet planning on taking up a weapon?”

  “Every man and woman. We must defend ourselves.”

  “A militia, then? Do you have a permanent army, a standing defensive force?”

  “Not a professional one. It’s more of a policing organization. Some choose that pathway through life, but they’re rare. We aren’t a warrior people.”

  “Too bad… you’re going to have to learn fast. In any case, you’re going to need outside professional help. Something bigger than a single smuggler from the Fringe can provide.”

  “Who do you suggest?”

  My mind was already calculating. “Do you have a map handy? Something displaying your world in a tactical sense?”

  She blinked for a moment and perused her personal device. Finally, she made a gesture, and a globe appeared on the table under our elbows. “It’s only a geographical survey, but it will have to do.”

  “Right…” I said, working on the image. I made motions, causing the planet to spin, zoom and shift into elevations and terrain gradations. It was a mining world all right. All sharp peaks and crags. Green valleys and shallow seas dotted the world, but it was mostly rocky land.

  “Lots of volcanic activity?”

  “It comes and goes with tidal effects. We have two stars, and sometimes the second sun comes closer and pulls our tectonic plates into a new order.”

  I looked at her, alarmed.

  “No, no,” she said. “This isn’t a seasonal occurrence. The last nearby brush with the second star was over eighty thousand standard years ago. We have countless generations to prepare for the next one—but the mountains, the glacial scarring, it’s all still there from long before we colonized the planet.”

  I examined the land. An alien force would have literally an infinite number of locations they could land and nest.

  “Hmm… here’s what I suggest. You had planned to arm every settlement with a local militia, right?”

  “Yes. To defend themselves when the enemy comes. What else can we do?”

  “You could go on offense. You could build a smaller, mobile army. A well-trained force that could deploy swiftly and destroy any nest the moment it was detected.”

  Morwyn looked troubled. “We simply don’t have that kind of expertise. Our people—it’s difficult to get most of them to accept and understand the danger. They just want to go about their jobs, their lives. They don’t understand what’s coming.”

  “Right… Let me suggest something else, then. Rather than building a rag-tag force of militia with top-grade weapons to defend every town, it would be much better to apply an elite force to hotspots. I know where we could find just such an army. As many men as you would want to hire—or would dare to.”

  “Where?”

  “Have you ever heard of the Sword Worlds?”

  She shook her head, but she looked intrigued. I began to explain, and she seemed fascinated by the idea of a mercenary society that spanned nine planets.

  “Such a strange way to labor. So dangerous and daring. They must be brave men—like you.”

  “They’re even braver,” I assured her. “In fact, they’re somewhat homicidal.”

  “How can they get enough work to support nine populations through mercenaries contracts alone?”

  My eyes were furtive. “The truth is, they don’t rely on mercenary contracts. Not entirely. They’re pirates as well. They go out and raid for what they need when honest work is hard to find.”

  “How awful! Why doesn’t the Conclave protect the colonies?”

  I shrugged. “For the same reason they don’t help your world or those like it. They’re content to sit in the middle of the star cluster, dreaming of better days. They relive their past glories and tell one another that the dangers of the cosmos will never come to haunt them.”

  “But you feel they’re wrong?”

  I stabbed my finger down on the various forests and craggy cliffs of Morwyn’s half-wild world. “They’re just like your people. They don’t grasp the danger, and they don’t want to understand it. The reaction is part of human nature, I suppose.”

  Morwyn nodded, and she contacted her father with her device. His face sprang up between us, and he seemed to completely misunderstand the situation.

  “The consummation is finished already?” he asked. “There hasn’t been much time—”

  “Father, please,” Morwyn said. “The captain is an honorable man. He has made no special demands upon me.”

  “Oh… I misread your character, Captain Gorman.”

  “Indeed,” I said, somewhat insulted and bemused at the same time. Possibly, if I’d played harder to get—but oh well, it wasn’t to be. “Please come join us, Dernel.”

  After I’d explained my proposed solution to Dernel, he was less than enthusiastic.

  “So, if I understand, you suggest that we form small militias in our major townships, largely armed with inferior weapons.”

  “That’s right.”

  “We will then rely upon hired mercenaries to protect us preemptively, hunting down and destroying alien incursions.”

  “You’ve got it, sir. With this approach, you’ll need far less armament and your expenses will be lighter as well.”

  Dernel looked troubled. He spun his globe around gently with a one long, thin finger-tip. “What if these violent mercenaries decide to conquer our planet? Aren’t we in danger of inviting one monster into the house to devour another?”

  “Well, yes… that is a legitimate concern. The militia will be your defense in that case—we’ll make sure you could stop the mercenaries if you needed to. However, I suspect that if these aliens are as bad as you make them out to be, we won’t have to worry about the humans. It will be one species against the other.”

  They both eyed me, but at last, they nodded. “It will be as you suggest,” Dernel said. “I trust you. Now, you may take my daughter to your cabin.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve been a gentleman thus far, but let us set all pretenses aside and seal this deal.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said, and I meant it.

  Morwyn placed her soft hand on top of mine. “In our culture, Captain, we seal major business dealings with an act of passion.”

  “Is that right?” I asked, thinking the idea had possibilities… “I think I understand, but I’m somewhat committed to Rose right now. She definitely wouldn’t understand.”

  “Really?” Dernel said. “We’re not proposing marriage, children—just a small reward.”

  “Tell me, how did this custom come about on your planet?”

  The two looked at one another. Dernel decided to answer. “We started as a remote colony. Very few resources existed. Tools, technology—it became increasingly valuable to remote outposts. Trust became an issue as well, as some chose a path of banditry.”

  “Uh-huh… I get that. But how does sleeping with everyone you bargain with fix such things?”

  Dernel shrugged. “It’s not a constant, it would only apply to major arrangements. Maybe once a year or so. But the method solves several problems: A trade done and sealed is a trade both sides trust. Also… with so few people early-on, isolation and distance were a serious danger to every outpost. Our customs allowed a sharing of genetic material.”

  “Ah!” I said.

  “Yes,” Morwyn admitted. “It was originally done to prevent in-breeding. Now, it has become expected in major bargains.”

  “Okay… but still, I must refuse today. Perhaps if things change…” I eyed Morwyn thoughtfully. “But no, let’s do this the way we do it on the Fringe.”

  I extended a hand toward Dernel. He looked at my appendage as if baffled.

  “Take my hand, clasp it firmly, and shake it up and down. This is our custom. The way my people seal a deal and ensure honor.”

  Hesitantly, he reached out and took my hand. It felt like I was clasping a moist dishrag, but I gave no sign of disgust. I smiled and pumped his hand up and down a few times. His arm flopped, and he looked even more confused. At last, I let him go.

  He eyed his hand as if it held some kind of secret. “What a bizarre custom.”

  I almost rolled my eyes at him, but I suppressed the urge. A number of the Earth colonies I’d visited over the years had diverged in both culture and genetics. It seemed like the farther you got out from the Conclave, the odder people became.

  “Do we have a deal then?” I asked.

  Dernel pursed his lips. “The arrangement hasn’t been properly sealed… but I will accept this. I have no choice.”

  “Then I’ll set course for the Sword Worlds immediately—oh, and by the way, don’t offer to seal any deals that way with the mercenaries we meet.”

  “Why not?” Dernel asked.

  “Because, they’ll only take advantage of your daughter. It will buy you no loyalty from them.”

  “How can we trust such animals in that case?” Morwyn demanded.

  “They have a code of honor of their own. They couldn’t sell their swords to many planets if they turned on their own employers with regularity. They’d soon run out of customers.”

  Dernel nodded. “That does make sense. Thank you for your honesty and your suggestions, Captain Gorman.”

  I left the two of them whispering and headed toward the bridge. I was already wondering what fresh complaints our new plans might bring from my crew.

  Chapter Four

  My entire crew seemed to be irate after learning of my choices—but I wasn’t terribly concerned with their opinions.

  “How can we even consider going back to that den of pirates?” Sosa demanded. “We were lucky to get away with our lives the first time.”

  “Sosa is not often right,” Jort said. “You are the smart-man here. But this time… Captain Gorman, you are talking like a dummy.”

  “Thanks for the input, crew,” I said evenly. “Be assured, your concerns have been carefully cataloged and considered. In this case, however, I’ve decided to overrule them.”

  “So…” Rose said, “you’re setting course for Gladius? Even after all our concerns?”

  “Actually, I already set course for Gladius over an hour ago. Before this meeting even started.”

  They all looked unhappy, and I decided it was time to straighten them out. “Listen, crew, I’m the captain of this ship, right?”

  “She is your ship,” Jort conceded.

  The two women just stared at me sourly. They might have been thinking about pointing out that I’d stolen it from Kersen, or some other similar nonsense. But they didn’t say anything.

  “That’s right, I’m the captain. This is my ship. This is no democracy. With that said, any or all of you are welcome to quit my service the next time we reach a quiet port. You can resign at any time.”

  They studied their fingers, and no one said anything.

  “All right then,” I said, slamming my hand on the table loudly. “Now that we have that settled, let’s move to our stations.”

  Jort followed me down the main passage to engineering. The two women went in the opposite direction, and I might be imagining it, but I thought they were whispering and glancing back toward me.

  “The crew is unhappy, sir,” Jort said in what he probably imagined was a whisper.

  “You don’t say? Are you part of this unhappy conspiracy?”

  “Huh? No, sir. I’m talking about the women. They don’t like this new girl. They are teaming up against you and her.”

  I stopped walking and looked at Jort seriously. “Teaming up? How so?”

  “Don’t you see it? Both of them have claimed you for their own, so they have always hated each other. But now, disaster! A new girl shows up! These two, who hated each other just a week ago, will seek to make an alliance against Morwyn.”

  “I don’t know, Jort. They don’t have any cause for such a reaction. Hell, I haven’t even kissed the girl.”

  “Not yet! Not yet! But they suspect the worst. It’s only natural. No one likes a new rival in their territory.”

  I shook my head and continued on to engineering. Jort often took a primitive view of people and their social interactions. Still, he was often right about base emotions.

  We reviewed the damage the ship had suffered during our unscheduled launch. The patches were holding, but I decided I shouldn’t push the ship to full throttle until we could make repairs at a dock somewhere.

  “I don’t think we should sail into the Sword worlds while wounded,” I told Jort. “We’ll find a friendly port and rent a space dock. Then, we’ll rent some extra drones to patch us up right.”

  Jort grinned and nodded. “I like it. Good play. The crew will think you are listening to them.”

  “But I am listening, Jort… aren’t I?”

  He looked baffled for a moment. “Uh… I guess so.”

  A few days later we arrived at a fairly civilized world known as New Heaven. This star system was close to the core of the Conclave—but not quite inside the border. That meant the inhabitants were trustworthy, but also more accepting of those from the Fringe who liked to bend the rules. As long as a man had hard credits in his account, he could get services without questions.

  The planet itself was unremarkable. It had a gravitational tug that was very close to one standard unit, and a climate that wouldn’t have impressed anyone. As their only moon was tiny, the seas were sluggish. The natural atmospheric disturbances were so mild they barely qualified as storms.

  “This place is almost as boring as Prospero,” Sosa complained.

  “I like it,” Rose said, seeing the planet as a more exciting version of her homeworld.

  We docked at the local orbital station and hired a tarnished collection of drones to work on the ship. We watched them closely, making sure there was no funny business—but we were soon bored with the task. The robots were dull type-Ds, unimaginative in the extreme. The worst they might do is let a power tool slip free and spin off into a decaying orbit.

  Growing tired of staring at the bots, Jort and I returned to the ship and squeezed into the small airlock together. The moment the air had cycled, and the doors swished open, we were surprised to see an unexpected scene.

  An argument was ongoing.

  Sosa stood behind Morwyn, with her fine blue arms pinned behind her. Rose, baring her teeth, was grabbing at Morwyn’s clothing. While this assault was underway, the girl kicked at Rose and snarled. All three of them were making a lot of noise.

  Jort and I had our helmets under our arms. Jort immediately dropped his and rushed forward. I restrained him with a hand on his bicep, holding him back. He could have broken away from me, but he stopped his charge and looked at me with big eyes. He would follow my lead, he generally did.

  “Um… ladies?” I asked. “What seems to be the trouble?”

  “She’s stealing things—out of Rose’s cabin,” Sosa insisted.

  “Really? Like what?”

  Rose dug into the girl’s pockets, dodging a kick. “Like this!” she said triumphantly. She held aloft a small plastic disk. She tossed it to me, and I caught it.

  Opening the thing and examining it, I laughed. “What’s this? A make-up device?”

  “Yes,” Rose said, “how do you think my eye-liner is always perfect? It was programmed personally for me on Prospero.”

  “Hmm…” I said, looking it over.

  “Theft from a crewman? That is a serious thing,” Jort said unhelpfully. “Are you going to space her, Captain?”

  All three of the women looked somewhat surprised at this suggestion. It was the kind of thing a pirate crew would do, of course, but we were only half-hearted pirates at best.

  I nodded slowly, as if thinking it over. “Rose is the injured party. What do you say? Do you want me to pronounce a death sentence?”

  “What?” Rose looked shocked. “Um… no. I don’t think it’s that big of a deal. She’s a paying passenger, after all.”

  “Right…” I walked up to Morwyn, looking her over seriously. “How will you make restitution for this act?”

  “Captain, I was only—”

  I raise a hand to stop her. “No explanations are required. Nor are they helpful. What are you going to do about this?”

  “I… I guess I could pay for it.”

  I smiled and nodded. I turned to Rose. “What do you think of that?”

  “I can’t get another one. They don’t make them out here on the Fringe!”

  “Ah, but don’t you have several others? A gold one, I believe—and two of varying shades of green?”

  “Yes, but… I like this one.”

  “Perhaps you could find another then that you don’t use often.”

  With poor grace, Rose returned to her cabin and came out with a small pink item. It had a cracked case, but it still operated correctly. “Here. You can have it. I don’t need all of them—not really.”

  Morwyn took the device and nodded her thanks.