AGORA ONE - A SPACE ADVENTURE - SLICE 8

Tequi and crew have some unexpected visitors.....

Tequi was floating and twisting in low-g in the sensation room.  His eyes were closed tight and a shit-eating grin enveloped his fuzzy five o’clock shadow.  A plethora of color and light danced on his pores as 4D instrumentals massaged his inner ears.  

“Tequi!” 

Tequi jolted out of his tranquility and yelled at his ship, “You know not to bother me when I’m in the sensation room!”

“Yes, I know the rules better than you do,” Turbo said with an annoyed tone.

“Apparently not,” Tequi said.

“Normally I wouldn’t bother you, but we’re getting a distress signal.  Time is of the essence if you want to help them.  We’ll have to slow to a crawl.”

Tequi punched a holo-button, 1g returned, and he flopped less than gracefully onto his feet.  “Who is it?”

“A small Cascadian cruiser with only two aboard, both Cascadian.”

“Park us a light year from them.  What seems to be their problem?”

“Inconclusive.  Too much beta-space interference right now.”

Tequi sighed.  “We’re the closest ones that can help?”

“By 12 earth hours.”

“Ok, let me talk to ‘em after I get dressed.  I’ll be in the cockpit in five.”

Tequi threw on a collared shirt, Pulsarian cotton pants, and his trusty black cowboy hat.  When he arrived in the cockpit, a shimmering Cascadian was on the holo-screen.  Cascadians were aqueous beings, literally.  They were made of a water sub-type, only known to be found on Cascadia.  They had the appearance of a crystalline waterfall, on the verge of freezing.  Misty verging on mystical.  Their “extremities” consisted of thin, misty, twisting extensions protruding randomly from their central, cascading bodies.  Their communication was done by making signs with those extremities.  In order to translate, a machine would have to pick up the signs, and translate them into verbal tones.  They were wondrous, marvelously gorgeous beings, always shimmering and bright.

Tequi smiled widely as he stared at the holo-image before him.  “A pleasure to see you, as always. How can we be of assistance?”

The cascade of the being slowed nearly to a halt.  This was what they did when they felt sadness and regret, or some other strong, negative emotion.  It twisted signs and the translation came through, “I’m so sorry.  Please forgive me.”

Tequi scratched his whiskers, “Sorry for what?”

Four red and black ships appeared on other holo-projectors.  One projector showed a macro view of the situation.  Tequi and the Cascadian were now in the middle of a double-crossfire position between Piscoran Stinger Ships.  

The Piscorans were the most notorious space pirates within this particular galactic cluster.  They generally stood over three meters tall, had tough, insect-like exteriors, and six appendages, two with pincer claws, two with fingers and thumbs, and two wings.  They were all various shades of red and had two triangular faces, facing in opposite directions, with two eyes on each face.  Partly due to these advantageous physical traits, they were known to be nearly unbeatable at hand-to-hand combat.  They were unscrupulous and crafty as well.  

For millenia, the Piscorans had lived in a violent culture, full of war and deception.  Their innovation and development had been almost nil.  One day, though, an ill-conceived trade mission from an intergalactic species to their home planet had been subverted and ruined by the aggressive locals.  It was then that they stole their first technology that allowed them to go off-planet, and they had been slowly stealing more and spreading throughout multiple galaxies like a cancer ever since.  

Tequi said, “Ok, let’s talk to the ugly suckers.  Go ahead and open communications with them.”

Raw’s voice came next, surprising Tequi, “Hey, Tequi! Got a little problem.  The frequency massager is out.”

Tequi shook his head emphatically and sighed dramatically, “Not now, Raw!” A huge, menacing Piscoran appeared in 3D right in Tequi’s face.  “We’ve got a bigger problem right now!”

“What could be a more pressing matter than a broken massager?”

“Space pirates.”

Tequi initiated the conversation with the Piscoran, “Wow, what a nice surprise..”

Raw interrupted, “Can I come to the cockpit and watch?”

Tequi rubbed the back of his neck vigorously, “Computer, mute audio to Piscoran.  No, Raw, go watch in the lounge or something! And don’t interrupt me again.”

Tequi then spoke in a ghastly tone to his ship, “Can you downsize the picture, please? My eyes can only handle so much nastiness, and that Piscoran is about one of the most nauseating things I’ve ever laid eyes on.  Make him the size of a roach or something.” 

The Piscoran’s image shrunk down to a size that could be easily squashed in Tequi’s grip.  “That’s better.  Ok, open the audio again.”

The Piscoran snapped its claws and glared at Tequi, “Are you the captain of the ship?”

“None of your damn business.”

The Piscoran’s eyes flared, “Keep it up and we’ll double our fee.”

“Fee?”

“For safe crossing, of course.”

“Sorry, I’m broke.”

“That’s not what our ship’s sensors tell me.  You’ve got all sorts of valuables on board.”

“Well, we were crossing just fine until you tricked us into stopping.  Nice ruse, but I think we’ll just keep on cruising, extortion free.  Nice try, though.”

“You must know that you’re outnumbered.”

“And you must know that you’re outgunned and outwitted.”

“How so?”

“Cuz the tech you’re working with is like a Model T compared to a my jet.”

“A what?”

“Never mind.”

The image of the Piscoran turned to shaky static and zapped out of existence.  Tequi called out, “Nice work, boys.”

A silver and gold robot with angular features, vaguely in the shape of a humanoid, showed up in Tequi’s view.  It spoke with a metallic twang, “Sure thing, Tequi.  What were they thinking?”

“Hell if I know.  Hubris and idiocy don’t allow for very clear thinking.”

“Apparently.”

“Thanks, carry on.”

“Will do. Shock One out.”

Raw was laid back on a plush smart sofa in the viewing lounge, along with Meago and Evol.  He asked Tequi, “What was that?”

“That was my robot security team.  I always keep an extra ship 30 light years behind me as backup, just for such an occasion.” He called out to Turbo, “Contact the Cascadian, please.”

The Cascadian appeared before Tequi again, only this time about the size of a water glass.  She was still flowing very slowly, openly showing signs of remorse.  

Tequi said to Turbo, “Hey, you can make the Cascadian’s image life size, please.”

She became her full 2.5 meter high size.  She apologized profusely again.  Tequi replied sympathetically, “It’s ok.  I know, they ambushed you or something and forced you to do it.  You don’t have defense good enough to fend off four Piscorans, or outrun them at least? I find that surprising.”

“Normally we do, but this ship is an old wreck and in need of repairs.  I’ve got a list a parsec long of things that need fixing.”

“Understood.  If you want, I’ll have my security ship meet up with you and see about helping with repairs.”

“Thank you so much.  That would be a huge relief.”

“I’ll send you the rendezvous coordinates in a minute.”

They finished shortly.  Raw asked, “You’re not gonna charge them anything?”

“Nah.  I’m a sucker for beauty.”

“And who said chivalry was dead?”

The captain of the Piscoran ship had one face observing the celestial distance, and another turned to his chief engineer.  The engineer had all appendages working feverishly on multiple control panels.  One of the engineer’s eyes couldn’t help but occasionally look to the ship’s captain a bit nervously.  He had an urgent message to send, but the ship’s communications, along with various other systems, had been knocked out by the blast from Tequi’s security tail.  

A third Piscoran, the head pilot, standing opposite the captain, asked, “I wonder what that weapon was, sir.”

The captain turned a face to the pilot and said, “I don’t know, but I want one.”  He cackled and snapped his claws wildly.  

The engineer, working in an awkward position on the floor, announced proudly, “Captain, communications are back online.”

“On to the weapons systems, then.”

“Yes, captain.” He fluttered his wings like a hummingbird and breezed away from the command bridge.  

The captain ordered the computer, “Call Lord Moden.”

In an instant, another Piscoran appeared holographically.  He had a black and white checkered hologram running in perpetual circles around his two foreheads.  This was the Piscoran version of a crown, which was always worn by the Lord of the Piscorans.  

The captain and the pilot both curled and uncurled their bodies in reverence.  After uncurling nearly to his full body length, the captain said, “Lord Moden, I am pleased to report that they are both aboard the human’s ship.  They should rendezvous with Agora One soon.”

Moden’s pincer claws rattled with excitement.  “You performed your function well, captain.  You’ll now report to the new colony.  Understood?”

“Understood.”

The call ended and Moden, sitting stiffly in his throne-like captain’s chair, stared out of the main observation deck of his ship.  He stared thoughtfully at his, and all Piscorans, former home world, Piscora.  It was now a lifeless, desolate, blood-red wasteland.  He thought about previous generations, who had destroyed Piscora's environment.  How could they have been so foolish? His great-grandfather crossed his mind, the one who had led the surviving Piscorans out into deep space and saved the species.  

Then his mind went to current affairs.  How to restore Piscora? The technology existed, and it would be his.  Agora One would be his.  The glory would be his.  Piscora would be his.  All he had to do was continue executing his plan, and he would reign Piscora and a greater Piscoran Empire.  His claws rattled with excitement.  

Finally, after reaching Agora One......

“Your timing is horrible,” Zay said with her hands on her hips and a foot tapping wildly.  

Raw’s droopy eyes shot wide, “Hey, great to see you, too, after six months.  What’s the problem?”

“My dad’s here.”

“Awesome! We can catch up!”

She pierced him with a jagged glare, “Your sarcasm is not appreciated.”

He stepped closer to her and put on a grin that would make clowns blush, “I’ve got an act coming up in a few days.  He should come! He’ll get free drinks if he drops my name.”

Raw’s over-the-top absurdity was too much for her.  She broke down and cracked a smile.  He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close.  She tried to maintain an air of annoyance with him and the situation with the Earth natives showing up the same time as her dad.  She couldn’t, though.  Raw was just too damned goofy and lovable to be negative around.  Sure, he didn’t have much material wealth.  He got around in a klunker of a spaceship that made her eyes hurt.   He did, however, have plenty of intangibles.  Annoying the hell out of her father was one of them.  

“My dad hates your shows.”

“My shows require an acquired taste.  He’ll come around.”

She tossed her long, thick mane of hair back, revealing more of her red-and-white collage of eye-catching skin on her neck and face, and asked, “So the Earth natives, they’re with Tequi, right?”

“As far as I know, yeah, he’s helping them get settled.”

Over the course of the next few weeks, Agora One went to various worlds.  It hosted a 5-tier poker tournament, and the finals of Andromeda’s famed high-g Zorzaball tournament.  Imagine kind of a mix between tennis and rugby, only in triple earth’s gravity.  It was intense.

Various trade shows were conducted and Agora One was near full capacity.  Agora One’s two newcomers from Earth found things very intriguing on board.  They had never experienced such freedom, nor so much variety in so many things.  The food, music, art, culture blending (and sometimes clashing) were all fascinating to Meago and Evol.  

Meago had also gotten to know Tequi and Raw quite well, but had especially gotten to know Zay very well.  Meago had shown an interest in martial arts, and Zay was more than happy to train her and have a sparring partner.  Meago was a natural, too, so it worked well for both of them.  

A dark cloud hung over it all, though.  Meago and Evol had secret objectives on board Agora One,  and Meago’s conscience was eating away at her insides.  

And one day, it became too much to bear…..

Slice 9 Coming Soon!

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Please note:  While Agora One can be read as a standalone, I recommend finishing the James Bong series first, and reading SeAgora second, as Agora One is the final installment of a loosely interlocking trilogy.