Spoiler alert: This is the beginning of the 9th book in the Reckless Faith series. You may read the prologue here: https://devonai.wordpress.com/2024/10/17/reckless-faith-ix-prologue/

Reveki Kitsune stood in a shower stall within the quarters of a crewmember of the Kestrel, reveling in the deluge of warm water that streamed down her body. After six weeks of living like a vagrant on the surface of Ibnal’saffar, it was the best shower of her life. The Kestrel was a well-appointed ship, if a little rough around the edges, and offered amenities that she’d managed to take for granted before being stranded. The shower was one such thing, and the first of which she’d taken advantage after Captain Strouthionum and his crew had welcomed her and her group on board.

Vecky lingered in the shower far longer than necessary before finally relenting to move on to other tasks. She toweled herself off, and donned a light but comfortable set of workout clothing that had been left out for her. The quarters belonged to a Carcali woman named Ember, who she had met briefly before being allowed to freshen herself up in private. Vecky looked around the room more carefully than earlier, and found a brush to fix her hair. Though she was loathe to put her boots back on, it was the only footwear available. Luckily, she found a can of aerosol disinfectant and gave them a firm blast. Hopefully that would kill most of the bacterial colonies that had taken up residence within.

The rest of her clothes had been left out in the corridor, with the promise that they would be laundered. When she exited the quarters, the pile of odoriferous articles was gone. Her next stop was the galley, where she was expecting to find her companions, and indeed, all of them were there, wearing similar clothing to hers. Wonderful smells met her nose, and she made a bee-line to a yutha machine along the far bulkhead. It was the real thing, and after one sip, she was giddily happy. Next to the brewer, there was a refrigerator with a glass door. Inside were about a dozen pre-made sandwiches. Though she couldn’t read the language on their wrappers, she was too hungry to care much about their contents. Lastly, she grabbed a paper plate and a napkin, and sat down at a steel table next to Cane.

“I think you’re gonna want to microwave that,” he said, pointing at the sandwich.

“I don’t care,” she replied, unwrapping it. “Anything but game meat and wild mushrooms.”

The sandwich consisted of cold cuts and cheese, or an approximation thereof. It, too, made her happy. Finally able to pay full attention to what was going on around her, she munched on her food and looked around the room. Cane, and the rest of her companions, were also showered and had changed into borrowed clothing. Captain Strouthionum, or Strouth as his crew called him, was seated at a nearby table with John, Ray, and Richter. Also at her table were Kyrie and Malthus. The Kau’Rii named Madet sat as his own table, clutching a mug of yutha. A wall-mounted monitor nearby offered information on what the Kestrel was doing. Again, she couldn’t read the language, but it seemed to indicate that they were in FTL, heading back to the Flying Serpent. Vecky had heard a little bit about the caravan before being offered Ember’s quarters, but at the moment, John was telling Strouth and Madet about their last adventure, and had gotten as far as the flooding of the Thesprotian’s cavern in the narrative. Vecky was curious to see how much of the truth John was revealing, and listened in.

It took John another twenty minutes to finish the story. In Vecky’s estimation, he hadn’t left anything out, except for the part about the mountain temple and the statue of the Kira’To within. Strouth and Madet had remained riveted throughout the retelling, and at its conclusion, both men stood up to refresh their beverages. Upon their return, Strouth sat down and spoke.

“So you have no idea why Kheiron sent you to Ibnal’saffar?”

“I think that planet had some sort of significance to him, or that we were meant to find something important there. If the latter, he left us ill-prepared to find it. As far as we know, he could have sent us to several different locations we already knew about, so we have to consider that this may have been a punishment for some unknown offense. Though as you may have gathered from our story, we were never anything but cooperative with him.”

“Around here, the Kira’To are nothing but myths and legends. Some on our route might be interested in your experiences, but not us; at least, none that I know of on the Serpent.”

“It’s probably for the best,” said Ray.

John said, “You said your next stop, after refilling your water reserves, is Tengshe. How long of a journey is that?”

Strouth gestured toward the bow. “Three weeks, assuming we go full speed.”

“Will there be an opportunity to hire a freelance vessel once we arrive?”

“With what? You offered us nothing to scoop you off of that planet.”

“A gesture we appreciate,” began Ray, “and something we’re still wondering about. There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch. You must think my people have something of value.”

“I can understand why your experiences may have made you a cynic. The Serpent is something different in our little galaxy, Mister Bailey. It is our hope, and nothing else, that within the time it takes to get to Tengshe, some of you might be enticed to take up residence here permanently.”

The hair on the back of Vecky’s neck stood up, and she resisted the urge to speak. Cane noticed that she’d tensed up, and put his hand on her knee under the table.

“Captain Strouth,” he said, “after so much time living in the field, a life on the Serpent, such as you’ve described it, sounds appealing. We’ll keep an open mind.”

“That’s all we’re asking.”

Richter, who until then had kept his gaze fixed on the empty plate in front of him, spoke. “What’s the weapons policy on the Serpent?”

John glanced at him. “You’ll have to forgive him, he’s our head of security.”

Strouth shrugged. “Not at all. Madet?”

“Based on what I saw in the cargo bay,” Madet began, “your pistols are all fine. Your rifles, and whatever Mister Bailey had on him, will have to stay in an armory, whether the Kestrel’s or another. If you disembark on Tengshe, you can take them with you.”

John nodded. “All right, then. I think the only thing left to ask is where we are. I’m going to list some colloquial names for star systems, so please stop me if there’s anything you recognize.”

“Shoot,” said Strouth.

“Primus, Secundus, or Matesia, in the Vulpecula system.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“Nor for me,” added Madet.

“Enif, or Epsilon Pegasi,” continued John.

“We’ve heard stories of the Pegasus constellation, as relatively close to here, but nothing that would correspond to that name.”

“You got me,” said Strouth.

John grunted. “Okay. Leda, and/or Dellal.”

Strouth brightened up. “Dhil Al Thaelab?”

His guests sighed in relief, including a laugh of joy from Vecky. John looked at his companions to share in the feeling, then turned back to his host.

“How far is it from Tengshe?”

Madet poked at his PDA. “Seven-hundred and sixty-nine light-years.”

John hugged Ray, and Cane threw his arm around Vecky, pulling her toward him. Kyrie offered Malthus a high-five, but the latter man didn’t understand the gesture.

Strouth raised an eyebrow. “I take it that’s good news?”

“Yes,” replied John. “Assuming we can find a SRC transceiver on Tengshe, our allies can be there in… well, quickly.”

Cane looked at his PDA. “Twelve days for the Fox. Far fewer for the Faith, of course. That is, if they’re not kicking around Anachronia or somewhere equally distant.”

“Then there’s hope you’ll reunite with your allies soon,” said Strouth. “I’m happy for you. Hopefully you’ll be able to contain your excitement for the three weeks it’ll take us to get there, not counting the additional trips the Kestrel has left to resupply the Serpent with water.”

The door to the corridor opened, and Ash stuck his head in.

“Sorry to bother you, Cap,” he said. “The laundry is done.”

“Great. Now, don’t forget the cover story we discussed. I’ll leave you to get dressed, if you find your clothing to be salvageable. If not, we’ve got some generic spacer overalls that I’m sure will fit your emaciated frames. Speaking of which, I suggest you visit each of the many food kiosks on our main concourse. Part of the Serpent’s charm is its food. Anyway, meet us back on the bridge when you’re done.”

More pleasantries were exchanged as Vecky and her contingent excused themselves from their hosts, and back-tracked to the quarters they’d been offered. They each found their clothes thrown up against the bulkhead in a heap; wrinkled but clean and dry. Vecky entered Ember’s room and gratefully donned her items. She would have felt completely like her old self, if not for the lack of her weapons. Her apprehension that the residents of the Serpent were a cult of some variety lingered in her mind. If what Captain Strouth said was true, and they were given their sidearms back before disembarking the Kestrel, then her fears would be mostly mollified.

Returning to the central corridor, she waited until all of her friends had gathered. Though none of them had yet been to the bridge, the simple layout of the ship made it easy to find. There, Strouth, Madet, Ash, and Ember manned their stations, and on the viewscreen before them, the Flying Serpent had come into view.

Vecky simultaneously scoffed and frowned at the sight. Her first impression was that of a junkyard, a coincidence of space garbage held together by nothing but a rather generous definition of gravity. As they drew closer, she could see that there was a method in the madness, with the rakish concentration of seemingly random ships at the center balanced out by larger vessels along the perimeter. The collective mass was missing an obvious chunk off of its starboard bow, a gap for which the Kestrel was headed. Once Ember began to maneuver their ride to dock, the show was over. Strouth stood up.

“All right, then. I’m going to turn you over to the welcoming committee; or that is to say, a man who fancies himself as such. Let’s get you to the armory first.”

Strouth led the group down the main corridor to the aft cargo bay, which is where they were first relieved of their weapons after being evacuated from Ibnal’saffar. From a room to the side, Ash distributed their sidearms to them, including Vecky’s Legionnaire, and her bayonet. As she stowed them, she kept on eye on Cane, and was relieved to see that his fusion pistol was returned to him. The others checked and charged their weapons with practiced ease before returning them to their holsters. As expected, there was no discussion of what would happen to their rifles and Ray’s shotgun, and no one pressed the issue.

“Better now?” Cane asked her.

“Yes. Thanks for staying on my frequency.”

“Of course. I’m cautious, but optimistic. Rifles or not, they gave me back Lammy, so woe betide anyone who tries to indoctrinate us.”

Vecky looked at him blankly. “You named your pistol after a prostitute?”

“Just the expensive one.”

They heard a clank and a thud, and after looking at the wall-mounted console nearby, Ash spoke.

“We’ve got a good seal. If you’ll proceed to the airlock, we’ll get you on board.”

Already familiar with its location, the team gathered by the hatch. Passing through the set of double doors, they found themselves facing a large interior space, as tall as it was wide, and long enough to prevent them from being able to see the other end. A thousand smells hit Vecky’s nose: most pleasant, but also the distinctive aroma of recycled oxygen. Before them, a unique Rakhar stood, smiling broadly at them.

His most obvious feature was that he was completely hairless, or at least, Vecky presumed him to be, as he was wearing pants. Also unseen in any Rakhar, to their knowledge, were tattoos, which covered every visible inch of his skin below the jawline. Vecky might have tried to make some sense of the images inscribed on his body, if not totally distracted by her surroundings. The Rakhar greeted them.

“Welcome to the Flying Serpent. I’m Biggles, and I’ll be your host and guide.”

John and Ray stifled a laugh.

“Where were you when we needed you last Saturday?” asked John.

“I understood that reference,” said Kyrie.

“So I understand you’re from Caracal, seeking passage to Tengshe?” asked Biggles.

“That’s right,” replied Richter. “We were in quarantine on the Kestrel, but their doctor gave us clearance to depart today.”

“Lovely! Well, I can’t wait to show you around, and help you get some quarters for the next few weeks. No baggage?”

“We were told we could buy whatever we needed on the Serpent,” said Ray.

“Indeed! Follow me, please.”

The Rakhar turned around and walked away, so the group trailed behind him. Biggles was prattling on about how great the Serpent was, so Vecky tuned him out and began to scope the place out. Her first impressions reminded her strongly of New Solace Marketplace, sharing with it its random configuration of bars, casinos, restaurants, food kiosks, and who knew what else within the shadows. It doubtlessly bore little resemblance to the space station it used to be, but had been adapted to its new role quite well.

The section they were in at the moment was dominated by docking stations, and Biggles was explaining that most of the airlocks they could see on either side were occupied by ships that had taken up residence over the last hundred years. Those vessels primarily served as living quarters, offering rents ranging from a pittance to quite a bit more, depending on how opulent they’d originally been. In any case, they provided easy access to the main concourse. Vecky did feel safer here than she had at New Solace, though she knew that her perceptions may not have reflected the reality there.

Biggles paused at a convergence of large corridors, a cruciform feature she had noticed from their approach to the Serpent in the Kestrel not long ago. A shorter structure had been laid out at a right angle to the central one. Biggles told them that both sides had served administration and engineering roles, both of which were still present in some capacity. The port and starboard ends of that section were where they could find two of the four ships that provided propulsion for the Serpent. Despite his initial enthusiasm, at that point Biggles seemed to run out of things to say. John spoke next.

“Have our living quarters been predetermined?” he asked.

Biggles said, “Newcomers are given basic accommodations regardless of their means. I can help you negotiate something better, if you have something to trade for it.”

“We might. We’ll accept the simpler rooms for now, though.”

“Just one of those pistols could get you something much nicer, if you can part with it.”

“We’ll hold on to them, thanks,” said Richter.

“Very well. The Tempest, a former Mirachian hydrogen trawler, has basic rooms available. I’ll take you there now.”

The group followed the Rakhar as they back-tracked halfway down the main drag. They wove themselves past a small crowd that had gathered at a food cart in apparent anticipation of a fresh batch of whatever its owner was cooking up, then passed through an airlock, entering the central corridor of a ship that was in desperate need of custodial services. Years of grime had accumulated on the edges of the passage, and several overhead lights were dead or working on it. A smell that reminded Vecky of rotting sweet-node husks permeated the air. After only a few steps, she found that the soles of her boot were sticky.

“Lovely,” she muttered to herself.

Biggles must have noticed the frowns on the faces of his guests. “You get what you pay for.”

“Is there no security here?” asked Richter.

“No. You, and other residents, are free to come and go as you please.”

“Do the doors lock?”

“Of course.” Biggles accessed a nearby wall-mounted console with a cracked screen. “It looks like 114 and 115 are available. Let’s check them out.”

The rooms were on the same deck. They across the hall from each other, but otherwise were identical; both offered two bunk beds, four wall lockers, and a basic lavatory. The mattresses were unused, but dingy after years of storage. Inside the lockers, they found vacuum-sealed blankets and pillows.

“This will do fine, for now,” said John.

“Good. If you need me, you can usually find me at the Vipers Pit. Enjoy your stay!”

Biggles sauntered off down the hallway, and disappeared into the airlock. Vecky had nothing to say about the distribution of rooms and bunks; privacy had ceased to be a concern long ago. Her group claimed beds and set them up, then gathered together in the hall.

“This place has a weird vibe,” said Malthus.

“I agree,” said Kyrie. “There’s something off about the whole place.”

Ray nodded. “I think the fact that we were so easily welcomed here has something to do with it. I feel like a calf being fattened up before the slaughter.”

“They let us keep our sidearms,” said Richter. “As long as nobody wanders off alone, I don’t think we’re in a whole hell of a lot of danger.”

John said, “And yet, Captain Strouth insisted that we not tell anyone we were picked up from Ibnal’saffar. That little detail seems to have gotten lost within our enthusiasm to get off that rock. I was dying to coax the reason why out of him, but I didn’t want to jeopardize our chance to evacuate.”

“Same here,” said Ray. “What we do know is that the Serpent is waiting for them to replenish their water supply from the planet. That means everyone here knows what the Kestrel is doing. I also didn’t buy his explanation that potable water was too expensive to obtain on Caracal; I mean, is it possible that such a resource is so closely guarded by the planetary government that they couldn’t have gotten it from any random lake?”

“We don’t know anything about Caracal, so yes, it’s possible. But I agree that it’s suspicious. In any case, we should all stick to the cover story we agreed on. In fact, we should establish a story for all of us about why we’re seeking passage to Tengshe before we leave the Tempest. Let’s not let ourselves get caught in a lie, should anyone here be paying that much attention to what we say.”

“Since we seem to have free rein on this ship,” began Vecky, “then let’s explore it. We can figure out our cover story while we do that.”

“Agreed.”

Cane said, “There’s also the matter of funding. I noticed a few places out on the main drag that were probably gambling dens, including the Vipers Pit that Biggles mentioned, as well as at least one money lender. If I can get some credit here, then I can convert that to something fungible.”

“Be careful,” said Vecky. “Win too much at once, and you’ll get yourself killed.”

Cane winked. “Who do you think you’re talking to? I can play the long game.”