Forerunner Foray - Chameleons and Plasma Rifles - Book 2 - Cover

Forerunner Foray - Chameleons and Plasma Rifles - Book 2

Copyright© 2014 by Lortay

Chapter 3: Arrival

"Vreemd control, this is vessel Didgeridoo requesting parking orbit with decent trajectory to Vreemd central spaceport," Didgi's voice came over the bridge speakers.

"Didgeridoo, orbit parameters are being transmitted and you will be cleared for landing in 30 minutes, please confirm receipt of message." The tone and timbre of the spaceport AI was clearly mechanical and lacked the vibrancy of Didgi's "voice."

"Parameters are confirmed. We will begin descent in our approved approach window. Didgeridoo out."

James and Tarra were sitting on the bridge and listening to the exchange between the AI's.

"I don't understand why if they are trying to keep this shipment secret they want us to put down at the spaceport. Wouldn't it make more sense to land elsewhere?" Tarra said.

James smiled, "You'd be surprised. Most of my contracts either start or end in a regular spaceport. Could be the item is at the spaceport, so we go there and worry about getting it on board. Or it is just the delivery that needs 'special' handling. Our instructions were to land and wait to be contacted, so that's what we'll do. That is actually pretty common. We can always take off, go to FTL then pop back in stealth mode, and set down again if needed."

"You seem so matter of fact about breaking the law. I'm still not 100% comfortable about that."

"We've been over this before. There is no hard uniform law out here between planets that are not part of the Federation. Sometimes the laws that exist are corrupted or biased and put in place by the parties that pay the most cash or control things through other means of influence, including violence. We are not in Federation space. Should we respect laws put in place by a Mafia Don after he stages a coup and takes over a planetary government? How about laws designed only to line his and his cronies' pockets at the expense of the traders doing the real work, taking the risks and doing the heavy lifting?

"I don't take contracts for things like illegal drugs or known stolen items. Most of my work comes from people that want secured and confidential delivery for items that are valuable."

James paused and decided to take another tack. "Tarra, everything we do - and I say 'we' now not 'I' – needs to be a judgment call. There is no black and white on the frontier. That's just wishful thinking. My dad used to say, 'Wish in one hand and shit in the other – see which one fills up first.' We are the ones who get to decide on what jobs we take – what seems 'right' and what doesn't. And I promise you that we'll walk away from any contract that doesn't meet your approval. Good enough?"

Tarra smiled and nodded, "It sounds 'right'."

"Hey don't I get a say?" Didgi jumped in.

"No," Tarra and James said together and then burst into laughter.

Tarra adjusted her shirt for the thousandth time. "I hate this thing. It just doesn't feel natural to be this covered up." She folded her arms and stared across the airlock at James.

James shook his head slightly, "Believe me, a lot of people would be uncomfortable on the planet you grew up on. Ragnor has a uniquely unusual culture. Most societies are much more body conscious. Bikinis are just not considered acceptable attire for everyday wear in other places."

"Hmmmff, they should be! This planet is almost as hot and humid as Ragnor – they would be a lot more comfortable with less on. Damn it all." She tugged at her shirt again. "This thing itches." She squirmed and tried to scratch her shoulder blade.

The lock finished cycling and a blast of wind swirled around James and Tarra in the small airlock.

Tarra hurriedly plugged her nose, "Uuughh. That just reeks. I didn't fully understand when you said that all planets smell different and it is not always pleasant. I think I'm going to be sick."

James chuckled, "It's only bad for a little while. After a few days you won't notice it anymore unless you think about it. This planet is a little more pungent than normal though. It's not usually this ripe. Must be something special in its ecosphere that is making it this smelly." He wrinkled his nose as they walked down the ramp to the plasticrete that formed the spaceport field surface.

They observed a small wheeled vehicle approaching them at near-breakneck speed. It swerved and skidded slightly as it came to a halt just a few feet away. A small reddish head with scaly skin popped up out of a hole near the front and two liquid eyes blinked at them.

A deep, booming voice – totally not in character with the diminutive form of the small reptilian life form in front of them - assaulted their ears, "Hitta! Hitta! Let Bleex run ya's to the terminal. Is real cheap, eh! Yous come now. Grutt Grutt!" He smiled toothily at them. Very toothily - each tooth came to a sharp point and there seemed at least three rows of them in the wide mouth.

Used to being hustled at spaceports, James regarded their offered ride warily. "How much?"

"Three Dracos each, yous not be sorry!" he grumbled back at them.

Having already consulted Didgi on the local currency and its exchange with the Federation credit, James knew he had encountered a local highway robber. "Half a Draco for the both of us and that will include a ride back to the ship when we need it."

The small native's face drooped in sadness, "Oh, what's a lousy offer. More rubbers and fuels are torched up running there. Yous cost me money for that. I do it for two - one way fors the boths of you."

"One draco, both of us, both ways. It's a nice day and I relish the opportunity to stretch the old legs. Come on Tarra, I see the customs house is just over this way." James started walking towards a group of buildings off in the distance at the edge of the field.

"Hold on! Hold on! Me Pionys will kills me, but I do it fors the only draco, yous two, boths ways. Ya's coming? Grutt?" His head bobbed up and down, a look of excitement gleamed in his watery eyes.

James winked at Tarra and said, "Ok Bleex, you have a deal. Come on Tarra get in, and hold on tight."

Tarra dubiously looked in the open back of the vehicle with the ragged fabric top and gingerly stepped over the side. James put one hand on the side and vaulted over, his body landing with a crunch on the bench seat. The small car rocked.

Bleex didn't seem to care and gunned the engine of the vehicle as he spun the turning rudder that controlled the steering wheels. The car almost careened over onto its side before Bleex corrected and the two wheels that had risen up crashed back to the plasticrete. They shot off towards the buildings at the edge.

Tarra gripped the canopy support and gritted her teeth, "If I get killed in this contraption, I'm going to come back and hurt you bad."

James just grinned as the wind whipped his hair back. They quickly approached the building with the universal customs sign out front and screeched to a halt next to tall, double-wide doors.

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