"What have they done to my ship?" Ribas Salek dropped to his knees behind a barricade along the darkened shore of the city harbor, gawking at the freighter that had once been known as the Opodi's Vagina.
The name emblazoned on the hull now read: OPODI'S GLORIOUS MAJESTY. The impound workers, apparently finding nothing better to do with their time, had also illustrated dozens of images of holy Opodi on the hull. These images depicted the goddess raising the Opodians from the wilds of the jungle to the providence of civilization, they showed her pushing back the seas that threatened to flood the city of Ope'mot, and they showed Opodi smiting the rampaging hordes of Llivori warmongers.
"It's just paint," Zazal assured him. He knelt behind the barricade between Ribas and Vard Bokren.
The Llivori's eyes widened. "It is NOT just paint. It's the principle of the matter! I can't fly her. Not looking like that."
Zazal sighed. He turned toward the pirate. "He refuses to fly her with that paint job."
"Tell him to snap out of it," Vard hissed. "We nearly got ourselves ripped apart in a houses-damned cargo tube to get his ship out of this impound yard. I don't know of another way we're going to get offworld. I sent the Kjernkor back to Rigor Strand. So, you just tell Ribas that he's our Plan A, B, AND C. Remind him that all I really need from him are the coordinates for Comorro Station. If he doesn't want to fly the ship, he can give it to me and I'll do it. We're right next to this convenient harbor too. Great place to dump the body."
The Lotorian translated Bokren's suggestion, minus the bit about the death threat. Zazal didn't think it really served any productive purpose, reminding Ribas that he might be living on borrowed time. Although, Zazal thought, anyone spending time with Vard Bokren ought to take that as a given.
"Fine," Ribas growled. "I won't like it, but I'll do it." He led the way to the fence of the impound yard. He huffed and puffed, climbing toward the top.
Zazal watched him go through his one good eye - the other was still swollen from the ride down the cargo tube. "That one's carrying a lot of unhealthy anger inside."
"What you call anger, he calls blood," the Medlidikke replied with a smirk. He followed Ribas to the fence, starting his climb as the Llivori wobbled and topped the fence, beginning his descent.
Once it appeared that Vard was reaching the top of the fence, Zazal adjusted the relic bag slung over his shoulder, moved from behind the barricade, and took three long running, loping strides before arcing through the air, passing Vard at the top, and then coming down with a thud on the dusty ground next to the winded Ribas Salek.
"Show off," the Llivori snarled. He then dropped to a crouch, keeping behind a row of fuel containers to avoid the watchful eyes of the holovid cameras angled to observe parts of the impound yard.
Zazal grinned, pleased to have annoyed Ribas, and then scurried after the freighter captain. His grin faded, though, as he felt a thrumming from within the bag over his shoulder. His brow furrowed as he settled into a crouch behind the containers. He tugged open the bag and looked inside to see the runes on the cylinder starting to glow a brilliant blue, illuminating his fur and whiskers.
A hand rushed the bag shut. Vard knelt beside him, muttering: "Keep that out of sight. It might give away our position."
"Why is it shining?" Zazal asked.
Vard winked. "I think it senses the one aboard Salek's ship. That's the main reason we were coming to see him."
The Lotorian let Vard move past him toward the Llivori's freighter. Ribas was already bringing down the ramp. Zazal frowned, disappointed that he had not only failed to kill Vard Bokren, but now he had also failed to prevent the pirate from acquiring another piece of the psionic amplifier that his client wanted to build.
"Move it," Ribas grumbled from the base of the ramp. The pirate's hooves were already near the top of the ramp, so Zazal made no mistake - the order was meant for him.
He considered the situation. He let his good eye survey the fenced yard around him. His diminished gaze settled on a compact hover scooter.
"Let's go, Zazal," Vard whispered loudly from the airlock of Salek's freighter, wandering back down the ramp to stand next to the Llivori.
I couldn't kill him, Zazal thought. Maybe I never could. But I can control whether I help him and I can certainly make sure he doesn't have the cylinder I'm carrying. His mind set, Zazal scurried toward the scooter, climbed aboard, and thumbed the ignition. The retros whined to life.
"What's he doing?" Vard wondered, but the freighter captain couldn't understand, so he just shrugged. Then they both saw the scooter gain altitude and whir out over the harbor with Zazal crouching on the seat. The pirate's mouth fell open as he realized what the Lotorian had planned. "Curse all the houses," he said. Then he shouted at Ribas: "Fly!"
Salek understood that well enough. He waddled up the ramp, slapping the ramp retrieval button on his way into the airlock. Vard followed him into a narrow corridor whose bulkheads were mostly open cavities with exposed conduits that had been plastered with sheets of paper, scribbled with notes in Llivorese. Ribas pulled open the hatch to the cockpit, plopped heavily into the navigator's chair, and seemed oblivious to the dubious creaking noises that came from it.
Two Opodian watchers, already drawn from their security trailer by the sudden departure of the hover scooter, became further alarmed by the sudden ignition of the engines on the Llivori freighter. They scrambled down the steps, shouting angrily and without much effect as they watched both vehicles zoom away from the impound yard.
Vard stared through the cockpit windows, watching the fleeing Lotorian and kicking himself mentally for thinking that Zazal might have been even a little trustworthy. The fact of the matter was: Zazal was a prisoner. He was taken captive against his will and forced into a job that he hadn't sought. It only made sense that a prisoner would take any opportunity to escape their captor. After all, Vard thought, it's what he would have done under the same circumstances. In fact, he thought, he probably would have tried to kill his captor. Zazal certainly had been given that opportunity back in the cargo tube, but he hadn't taken it. Perhaps that was why Vard had let his guard down so far. Well, that wouldn't happen again.
"Pull along beside him," Vard said, motioning with his good hand along the sparking trident to indicate the ship moving parallel to the target. Ribas bobbed his snout, acknowledging the instructions. That done, the Medlidikke stalked out of the cockpit and returned to the airlock, activating the ramp extender.
He used the ramp support struts to keep himself steady on the angled platform as the freighter moved into position alongside the Lotorian on the hover scooter. "Zazal!" the pirate shouted, still clinging to a strut with his normal hand. "You're not thinking this through!" Cold spray from the harbor quickly soaked him to the skin.
Zazal glared at Vard from the scooter. "I won't help you do this! You're just using me until I'm expendable, anyway!"
"Yeah, well," the pirate said, sighing, "running off like this and leaving me with an angry Llivori isn't making you any less expendable! So stop! Come aboard and we'll talk about this like rational beings!"
"No!" Zazal shouted. He adjusted the controls on the hover scooter so it would zoom along of its own accord and then he stood on the seat, preparing to jump into the harbor. If he couldn't escape the Medlidikke on the scooter, then apparently he thought it would be an acceptable alternative to drown in the waters off Ope'mot as long as it kept the Kamir artifact from Vard's clutches.
"Oh, no you don't," Vard growled. He released the strut while pushing off the ramp with his hooves. He landed on the slick sideboard of the hover scooter, tangling his arms around the Lotorian. He tried to steady himself so that they both remained on the scooter, but Zazal had already started falling toward the harbor and Vard's hooves couldn't find purchase on the drenched surface of the plastic shell. The best he could do was smack Zazal upside the head with the metal base of the trident. This served two useful purposes. First, it rendered the Lotorian unconscious. Second, it triggered the shutoff for the electrical element, so when they tumbled into the chilly harbor water together, they didn't end up shocked to death by the pirate's weaponized stump.
He kept his stumped arm wrapped around the dazed Lotorian while Ribas slowed the freighter and took it into a shallow circle so that the ramp could skip lightly along the waves, providing a platform for Vard to shove Zazal aboard and then to pull himself up to safety. The hover scooter just kept on going, zipping off toward the south, where it would eventually run out of fuel and tumble into the sea.
"I'll take that," the pirate grunted, snatching the artifact bag from around Zazal's shoulder. He slung it over his own shoulder. Then he dragged the Lotorian by the nape of the neck into the airlock. Vard activated the ramp retrieval system. He ducked his head into the corridor and shouted: "Comorro! Go!" Then he knelt beside Zazal and said, "We're going to have a nice long talk when you come back around, my friend."