Taarkhul Prime, Mokk City. The Blast Pan
The Auto-cab pulled up to the docking gate, and hovered. The Shiamiite driver turned around, and leaned over his seat.
"Sure this is where you want to go, bro?"
Trek looked around and through
the windows of the cab. Cargo droids and lifters were covered with graffiti.
Some were rusted out
of commission, others had been stripped and gutted by
worker-gangs. Mokk City, not exactly the jewel of the Empire.
"I wish it weren't, but it is. How much?" The lawyer leveled the cabby a serious look.
"I dunno. I'm takin' a pretty
big risk drivin' you out here past
curfew. Ya know... you don't
look much like a Dock Inspector."
And the cabby tried to make the Archaen's features out in the shadows of the cab.
"That's the beauty of it. I'm the last guy they'd expect," said Trek, but the cabby wasn't buying it.
"If you'd like I can show you my credentials," he added.
"Yeah, I think I'd like that," answered the cabby.
*Not the answer I was hoping for.*
But the lawyer knew his bluff
was up, so he switched to a different tactic. Reaching into his leather
bomber jacket, a left over from his
Fleet pilot days, he moved past the Torpedo Blaster in
his shoulder holster, and pulled out his bill fold.
"This should cover the fare...and your silence."
He handed the man three Omnium T-bills. The Cabby looked over the currency.
"I dunno. What if I got pulled over for breakin' curfew?"
The lawyer pulled out three more bills. "That should cover your fine."
The Shiamiite's eyes gleamed.
Trek got out of the cab and watched
the hover vehicle drive away. The lawyer reflected back on how his hasty
departure hadn't give him
much time for 'Field' work preparations. From this point
on he'd have to improvise. With luck the cabby wouldn't see sell him out,
but the lawyer
had a feeling his Shiamiite driver would inform the closest
paying Ghoiite Clan about his presence. At the most he had about fifteen
to twenty
minutes before any trouble arrived. He hoped the ferry
would come before that.
Trek walked through the gateway
entrance. Immediately his nose picked up the slimy, brackish scent of the
reservoir. He could see highlights
of it's black form under the night's cloudless sky. Mokk
City was an industrial town heavy into the production of ul'ek and holographic
field projectors.
Built on the edge of a deep canyon, a few centuries ago
the Shiamiites had dammed the chasm and made it into a reservoir. A large
cooling water supply
was needed for their production needs.
Over the decades, city officials
turned a casual eye to the growing environmental concerns in favor of increased
plant production. The water quality of
the reservoir was now more than just questionable, and
every so often more then one body would always wash up on it's rocky shores.
Bodies dead before
they entered the water.
In the center of the reservoir
stood Blast Pan Island. Originally a tall butte before the dam was built,
it was now used as a lift site to launch huge cargo
pods into orbit for shipment to all parts of the Tri-sector.
Ferry tracks from numerous points along the reservoir's coast lead to the
blast pan. Cargo ferries
conducted on these mono-rails, fitted just below the
surface of the waters, were user to carry ul'ek shipments and workers to
and from the island. The
undercurrents of the watershed were strong enough to
suck down an entire cargo ship, and so the rail system was a necessity.
Trek walked over to the station
platform and rested on the support railing over looking the waters. Five
kilometers away a white hot blast of light signaled
the launch of another cargo-pod. The noise rolled like
thunder. Trek watched the dart of light ascend into the night, and tighten
his jacket against the chilly air.
A quick glance over his shoulder showed the arrival of
workers packed in the back of a hover-truck. They were Shiamiite with a
few Golem among them.
Jumping off the flatbed, they made their way over to
the waiting station and the truck sped off. A few gave Trek curious glances,
but the rest kept to themselves
and broke into lively conversations. All had their curfew
passes around their necks.
Cameron looked out over the waters
and made the distant lights of an approaching cargo ferry. He placed his
left hand inside his jacket's pocket and
slipped into his Sensor Glove. Almost immediately the
audio pick-ups in the palm and fingers detected the approach of a man behind
him.
"Nice night, eh?" said the lawyer.
Trek turned around. The man stopped,
slightly surprised that the Archaen had heard his stealthed approach. He
was Shiamiite, tall with his earlobes
elongated by silver talisman, and etched with tattoos
- A Ghoiite Clan sign. He wore a long trench coat; it was what was under
the coat that had the
lawyer worried.
"Something stinks around here, and I don't mean the water," said the man.
"Yeah, I had beans for dinner." Trek shrugged. "What are ya gonna do?"
The man huffed with irritation. Trek smiled, his best wise-ass look.
"You being smart with me...Archaen?"
"Oh yeah, absolutely."
The man huffed again, this time with more restraint.
"All right asshole, let's be straight with each other..."
The Ghoiite parted his coat revealing
an ul'ek robe underneath. Trek got the message. Behind them the ferry approached
and the workers lined
up for boarding.
"You've got five seconds to tell me what you're doing here before I toss your headless body into the soup."
Trek nodded. "I'm here to meet somebody...out
there." The Archaen ached his chin in the direction of the blast site.
The Ghoiite tracked his gaze,
and Trek folded his arms across his chest, slipped a
hand under his jacket an onto the handle of his blaster. The Ghoiite shifted
back.
"Who?" he asked with narrowed eyes. Trek shrugged again.
"Beats me. I'm just followin' orders."
"Then I'll just come along to see."
The ferry stopped and the workers began to file through.
"You don't get out much, do you? asked the lawyer.
The Ghoiite struck him across the face, knocking his head completely to the side. Trek wiped the blood from his split lip. He looked at the thug.
"I let you have that probably
because you thought I deserved it.
Touch me again and I'll kill
you."
The Ghoiite tried to grin despite the look in the lawyer's eyes. Cameron began to move past him towards the ferry.
"Hold it," said the Ghoiite. The Archaen stopped.
"You must think I'm pretty stupid not to pick out that gun."
He pushed aside Trek's jacket and removed his Torpedo Blaster.
"Nice piece. Always wanted one."
The tall man held the weapon
in his hand, and waved the lawyer on with the muzzle. The ferry conductor
was checking the worker's passes
when he saw Trek approach followed by the Ghoiite holding
the gun.
"He's with me," said the thug.
The elder conductor nodded and let them pass. Inside was a single isle
with two rows of seats on either side.
The workers took seats on the far end of the railboat.
"Sit," said the Ghoiite, pointing
to the first row of seats on the right. Trek sighed and placed both hands
deep into his pant's pockets, and sat down.
Unseen by the Ghoiite his right hand gathered up the
half dozen Archaen Palomac coins he kept there.
"Hands where I can see them!" he sneered.
He pistol whipped the lawyer across the jaw.
Trek threw the thug a murderous
look, and slowly pulled out his hands and placed them on his knees. The
tall gunman switched Trek's blaster to his
left hand, and sat down next to him, leveling the business
end at the lawyer.
"Enjoy the ride while you can,
Archaen. For you it's definitely going to be a one way trip."
______________________________________________________________________