The Serpents and the Skulls, Chapter 4.3
26 Apr 2017Michael Wolfe
“By all the gods, Deggie- we’ve got to get you a woman!”
Rabat was stipped to the waist, his hair tied up in a thick topknot, sweat still glistening from his hairy chest. He’d been staying in one of the new private suites that The Seventh Circle had installed, and not by himself either. I peered behind him, glimpsing the resting bodies of two lithe figures. The pirate was in a good mood. He’d taken to bed two of my newest- young ones, skilled ones. He’d also drank almost an entire bottle of Pegasi Moon in the process. I straightened myself and shook my head, trying my best to smile.
“Only one? When I’m surrounded by flesh day and night? I think not.”
Rabat grunt-laughed, letting a mouthful of the pungent liquid wash down his throat. “And yet you’ve never been seen or said to bed any of your own. Your father couldn’t keep his prick off of them, even after it stopped working. So what happened with you?”
I’m not my father, I thought. That’s what happened.
“As long as you and yours keep benefiting, do you care? You know I’ll honor all of Dante’s arrangements.”
The man glanced behind him, his dark, sooty eyes washing over the worn-out flesh still sprawled out on the bed. “I know you will,” he said. “But I mourn his passing all the same. So what are your plans? Are you changing the name?”
I shook my head, fishing out an onionhead joint and lighting it. “I’m leaving it as the Seventh Circle for awhile,“ I said. “Out of respect for the old lecher.”
A look that passed as sympathy crossed the man’s face. He gestured for another glass of rotgut and sat down across from me. A young woman wearing almost nothing served us both a drink before walking away. Rabat’s insatiable eyes lingered on her for a moment before speaking.
“Your father was a good man, but he lacked ambition. He had a steady supply of booze and arse, and never wanted anything else. I think that you can do better.”
I looked down at my glass, steeling myself for the conversation that I’d known was coming. Rabat himself seldom visited the Seventh Circle, and when he had it had been all business. Dante was dead, and I was caught in a strange mixture of mourning and relief at the old man’s passing. Rabat knew that I was in a vulnerable place, and no doubt sensed an opportunity to sweeten the deal he had made with my father.
“Look- I know that we’ve been running together for a little while now. Scoring cargo under my father’s nose was one thing- but running the joint is a whole new game. If I’m not here to sniff around in the safe and the storeroom, I’m liable to be stolen from even worse than what you do. You know how places like this work.”
For the first time, a look of danger replaced the carnal joviality in Rabat’s eye. “You disappoint me,” he said. “I’ve been needing a mate on one of my ships. It’s a good one, too. A fast one. One of the Cobras. I’ll even send a little extra your way for old time’s sake.”
I gently pressed my fingertips together in a tent and subtly pointed it towards him. “We’ve had some fun,” I admitted. “But I’ve planned more jobs than I’ve been on. Anyone with halfway decent space legs can be mate on some ship. But without me watching over things, your best port in Tjakiri is going to pay less and less in kickbacks, and the players’ll go elsewhere.”
Rabat looked at me for longer than I was comfortable with. Not knowing what else to do, I met his gaze between long drags of onionhead.
Go easy on the stuff, I reminded myself. Don’t get stupid around this guy.
“Well, the outfit needs brains and muscle alike,” he said with a wave of his hand. “And your joint brings in plenty of credits. But there’s a job coming up that I’m going to insist you attend.”
I was just opening my mouth to protest when the man cut me off. “And I think you’ll find that it’s in your interest.”
I closed my mouth, my head spinning. Rabat wasn’t taking no for an answer, and also clearly had something in mind. In the few years that we’d known each other, we’d never quarreled- I didn’t dare cross the man, after all- and had generally enjoyed harmonious relations while Dante faithfully sent him his cut every month. And yes- I’d accompanied him on odd pirating ventures on the sly, drinking and carousing and reveling in the mayhem that we’d caused. But this was different.
“Alright. I’ll go.”
Rabat slowly nodded, finishing his glass of liquor and setting the glass down on the table with disconcerting gentleness. His eyes had more knowledge as to what was in store for me than he was letting on- but I knew better than to press for details.
“It’s done, then. This time next week everything will be ready. Have a bag packed.”
Seeing my quizzical stare, the man got up and chucked, giving me a heavy-handed pat on the shoulder as he walked back into his room, already unbuckling his trousers. The hired help was stirring, and getting his way seemed to stimulate his carnal appetites.
“Don’t worry, Deggie,” he said as he closed the door. “The Seventh Circle isn’t going anywhere.”
“He’s awake.”
I blinked my eyes rapidly, my breath entering and leaving my lungs in long, wheezing pulls. My throat was dry, and swallowing came only with great effort. I had to take a moment to take in my surroundings- in Clair Dock’s medical bay, with even more tubes coming out of my arms than before.
Blinking a few more times to clear my eyes, I gestured to the attendant to activate the K-cast. I had no idea how long I’d been out, but I wanted to be updated immediately. Two screens shimmered into view before me, and I saw before me Marrakech and Victor. A third screen that should have been for Azalea was only static. Her comm was turned off- an unacceptable lapse for a council member in the midst of a war. Suppressing my anger at her absence, I nodded at the other two faces before me. Both had clearly just been awoken from slumber, but their faces stoically concealed any irritation that they might have felt.
“Don DeVerre,” said my consigliere.
“How goes the war?”
Victor straightened himself and nodded. “Sanctuary Prime- apparently that’s what the Snakes were calling it- is ours. Losses were high-” At this, I could see an ill-concealed scowl darken Marra’s face. “- but it was an enormous setback for them. We have one of their elders in custody. The good doctor Glaboski will soon be ready to extract the location of their remaining hideouts.”
I nodded at his assessment. Glaboski was due to operate on another high-profile patient soon, as well- me. My replacement organs were nearly complete, and it was reassuring to have had a successful demonstration of the man’s medical skill.
Anything to get me out of this damn place and back into the boardroom.
“And what else? Surely that isn’t the only news.”
An uncomfortable look crossed both council members’ faces, but Victor again spoke up. “The Snakes have retaliated, too. They’ve struck all over our space. Civil unrest is widespread, but actual losses are minimal.”
I looked at the man sideways, sensing his overly optimistic wording. “Are they? And if I were to access actual numbers, what would I see?”
My consigleri’s face hardened as she broke her silence. “You would see that we are fully in control of all thirteen systems, with nothing but expendable merchant ships lost. The Snakes can’t engage us in any but the most cowardly ways. They’ve been reduced to simple banditry, nothing more.”
I tried to chuckle, but it came out as a pathetic wheeze instead. “I seem to recall a time when such cowardice was considered good judgement for a simple bandit to exercise.”
The woman’s eyes flared at my allusion to her past, but I ignored her. “And what efforts have been made to combat this? Escorts, counter-strikes- what?”
Again, Victor seized the opportunity. “The bulk of our mobile strike fleet is still in low orbit around Sanctuary Prime. It would seem that selling an entire colony into slavery is a greater task than anticipated.”
What did I just hear?
I took a deep breath, struggling to keep my heart from beating too hard in anger. Marra glanced to her side, her anger and discomfort visible. She had been openly called to task by Victor, and she knew it.
Is there greater animosity in my council than I had known?
I looked the woman hard in the eyes. “Explain.”
Suppressing her anger, Marra shifted her weight and drew herself up. “We are a firm in business to make a profit. Taking Sanctuary Prime incurred losses- losses that I would see erased.”
Scoffing, I shook my head. “A move that is penny wise but pound foolish. You’ve compromised the security of our holdings for the sake of a one-time slave sale? Have you lost sense?”
The woman began to open her mouth to retort, but Victor cut her off. “The consigliere has authorized the creation of a second fleet,” he said cautiously. “Composed of the military privateers of Mukusubii. I’ve been using it until the main force is available.”
I took a deep breath, still not appeased but eyeing both my subordinates carefully. There was clearly a degree of tension between Victor and Marra, but not so much that they were openly feuding. That Victor had interjected just before she might have said something rash was shrewd- did he intend to mend fences, or to have Marra owe him a de facto favor?
There were other questions as well. What was Azalea doing that put her out of communication? And what did that have to do with the fact that the reserve fleet came from her system? Surely the loss and appropriation of her own men had been a bitter pill for her to swallow.
One thing at a time. The answers will come on their own.
There was no time to undo what had been done. The best I could do was guide my proteges until the crises had passed. I raised a finger to Marra, who was still clearly biting her lip.
“Sell the prisoners and be done with it. Get Glaboski whatever he needs to conduct his procedure. After you have the locations of the hideouts, I want you and Victor to work together to eliminate them in one simultaneous strike. No more one-by-one piecemeal conquering.”
I swallowed, the act taking more effort than before. “End this war. Pacify the dissent in our systems. I don’t care how. Every day that our rule is challenged is a day that our enemies are emboldened and groups like the Kumo Crew smell weakness. I’ll deal with Azalea later.”
Both council members nodded and bowed, saying nothing. Victor noticed something to his side, and in the background I heard a comm chirping as his face screwed up in worry.
“Speaking of Azalea, we have a priority alert from Lasswitz Silo. It’s under attack.”
I commanded my face to remain impassive. Of course it is. The system’s been stripped bare of its security.
Marra’s eyes narrowed. “I’m closer to it than you are. I’ll go.”
Victor shook his head. “The Bucephalus is still in the repair dock. It would be wiser to dispatch-”
The woman’s eyes grew determined as she cut him off. “Piss on the Bucephalus. I’ll go in the Seren Du.”
Her expression settled into a softer look of faux-concern. “After all,“ she said. “Azalea is a fellow council member and my dearest friend.”
By now, her tone wasn’t fooling anyone, but I nodded all the same. “If you can get there quickly, then take what ships you can and go. But no more pirate lord theatrics from here on out, do you understand?”
A look of fiery savagery settled over Marra’s features. “When I meet these snakes over the skies of Lasswitz,” she said. “I have no intention of taking any prisoners to sell.”
“Deggie! So good of you to join us!”
My heart was beating out of its chest as I beheld the scene before me. Like a week ago, Rabat was stripped above the waist, but for a different- though equally carnal- reason. In his hand was a long, cruel-looking blade that straddled the line between “knife” and “sword”. He and a small group of thugs were crowded around a man, naked and bound to a cooling rod in his Anaconda’s reactor bay. The man was a mess of blood and carved flesh, still alive but convulsing in mind-shattering pain.
I took a step closer as the group let me pass and gulped, trying my best to not show any fear. The poor bastard’s severed manhood was laying in a dark pool at his feet. He was whimpering, and would have been crying if-
I took an involuntary step back, nearly running into the thugs behind me.
-if he still had eyes or tear ducts from which to cry.
Rabat put a meaty, blood-splattered arm around me and gestured to the pathetic sight before us. “I don’t recall if you’ve met Mister Chistu here. He’s my second-in-command.”
The man let out a low moan. The pirate lord at my side wiped his blade on his trousers and shrugged, not waiting for an answer.
“Well, used to be. But then I caught his hand in the cookie jar. Making deals with the Kumos behind my back, telling them about our juiciest gigs so that they could get to them first in exchange for a kickback.”
I nodded and stopped myself from swallowing again. “So you mean to kill him, then?”
Rabar released me, his face a mixture of brutality and jovialness. “Kill him? I think not. Any fool can die when caught out. I intend for this creature to live, an example for all those entertaining thoughts of betrayal. Now cut him loose and get him to the med bay.”
Summoning up my courage, I did my best to ignore the screams as the man was roughly carried away by Rabat’s thugs. The door to the reactor bay shut, leaving us alone. Giving the bloody coolant rod a final look, I turned to my host and forced my face to remain impassive.
“You wanted to see me?”
A look of cruel cunning spread over the hairy-chested brute’s face. “Times are good, Degginal. The loot is flowing, the fleet is expanding, and merchants are shitting both themselves and their cargo from here to the Federation border.”
I met his gaze, trying my best to act casual. “Glad to hear it.”
He ignored my reply as he again threw his arm around me, reminding me of our size differences. With the point of his blade he pushed the door control, leading me roughly down his ship’s corridor.
“The outfit is growing, and-” he gestured behind him with the knife. “-and I seem to be short a mate. You’re it until you’re dead or I find someone better.”
I spun from the man’s grip, my eye widening. “I told you before,” I stammered. “I’ve got to see to the club. We’ve had some fun times, but I’m not-”
The larger man laughed, his deep voice echoing through the corridor. “A pirate? Relax, Deggie. I don’t need that kind of help. There’s no shortage of ship rats around to haul in loot. What I need is someone who can plan, to be the brains behind bigger and better things to come. Someone who can put ears in private rooms- because he owns them. Who can think clearly even when surrounded by a bunch of piss-drunk roughnecks who can’t decide if they want to fuck or fight for their evening’s entertainment.”
A dangerous glint flashed in his eye as he took a step forward, dominating me. “Know anyone like that?”
I eyed the man wearily, not quite knowing what was going on. With a gesture of almost absurd politeness, the man led me into the Anaconda’s frontal observation deck. Below us, men and women- slaves, mostly- scurried about the docking bay. I took a deep breath, realizing that I was as trapped as they were.
“And what exactly did you have in mind?”
Again, the disconcerting chuckle, but more muted. “The same deal as now, but sweeter. You become a full-on member of the crew. Your club becomes a full-time hideout, and you take control of certain planetside storage depots. All the big deals and jobs get negotiated under your roof, and with your participation. This time next month, a river of credits and merchandise is going to be flowing through The Seventh Circle. All you have to do is ensure security.”
I looked down at the deck, and then up to him. “Sounds expensive.”
“It will be, but this is the big leagues. No more piss-ant five percent commision like your father was getting. You’ll be stepping up to twenty percent of anything that happens in your club.”
I looked away, watching the people below me loading and unloading cargo from Rabat’s multitude of ships. Even with terms as generous as I was offered, hiring a staff of private muscle for the club wouldn’t come cheaply.
“I want thirty-five. Good security doesn’t work for free.”
I felt a heavy hand clap against my shoulder as Rabat’s presence loomed behind me. “After what you just saw? You’ve got balls. Twenty-five.”
I swallowed, knowing that any kind of haggling with the pirate lord was dangerous. “Thirty-three.”
The hand squeezed, lifting the muscle from my shoulder and almost causing pain. “Careful, Deggie. I like you. I want to keep liking you. Thirty.”
I turned around, letting the man’s hand slip from my shoulder. “Alright. Thirty.”
My man didn’t smile, and didn’t extend his hand to shake mine. Instead, he patted my cheek like I was a dog that had fetched him a bone. Hell, maybe I was. His large, calloused hand gripped the back of my head, holding my forehead to his, dark eyes boring into mine. It was anyone’s guess as to how much of his old mate’s blood was now on my face.
“Then welcome to the crew.”
I slowly nodded, not daring to break my gaze or show weakness.
“I think,” I said, trying to impress my new partner with a show of bravado. “I think that it’s time for the Seventh Circle to become plain old ‘Deggies’. Has a nice ring to it, wouldn’t you say?”
OOC disclaimer: if you think you spotted a line from Starship Troopers, you did! It's my favorite good bad movie!