Happy Friday, everyone! Time for another episode of Dragon Ascending. Last week Len met the family. This week Kresho fills the Fallons in on the new deal. As I mentioned, I am now attempting to post episodes at lengths that will be better suited for the flow of the story and enhance your reading pleasure. Some will be slightly shorter, some will be longer. I hope you find this switch-up helpful. I hope you’re enjoying Dragon Ascending, the sequel to Piloting Fury, as much as I’m enjoying sharing it with you. As always, I love it when you share my work with your reading friends, so feel free. In the meantime, enjoy!
If you missed the previous episode of Dragon Ascending follow the link for a catch-up. If you wish to start from the beginning, of Dragon Ascending. Follow the link.
For those of you who would like to read the complete novel, Piloting Fury, book one of the Sentient Ships series, follow the link to the first instalment.
Dragon Ascending: Book 2 of the Sentient Ships Series
On a desolate junkyard of a planetoid, scavenger Lenore Felik, disturbs something slumbering in a remote salvage dump and uncovers secrets of a tragic past and of the surprising role she must play in the terrifying present she now faces.
Robbed of her inheritance after her tyrannical father’s death, Tenad Fallon is out for revenge on her half-brothers, one who happens to be the sentient ship, Fury. Fury, with his human companions, Richard Manning and Diana McAllister, has his own agenda – finding the lost sentient ships and ending the scourge of indentured servitude in Authority space.
Dragon Ascending Part 38: Safeguards
Tenad’s mouth fell open, and for a long moment she was speechless. Jessup who was not, reverted to a primitive, half-whispered string of curses. “You’re sure of this?” He finally managed.
“My intel’s good,” Kresho said.
“How do I know we can trust you?” Tenad said.
“Well, lady, as you so kindly reminded me yesterday, you have me by the short hairs, and if I have to go down this route, I have every intention of squeezing every credit out of you fucking Fallons I can get, extra even for undue stress on me and my people.” Did Gerd actually try to look distressed?
“What about we just apply a little truth serum, get the information we need and leave you drooling and shitting yourself before we blow this chicken shit station into dust?”
“I’d like to see you try,” Dyrg growled and moved in on the man again, which shut him right up.
“You can do that if you want, but my information, my knowledge is all behavioral, all classic SNT science, and there’s no way you can extract the experience I have to deal with a situation that I promise will be so out of your depth you’ll regret the day you were born, I guarantee that will be the case when SNT1 gets through with you. He waved a hand out the view port to the void beyond. “Hell there are at least five, maybe six SNTs in hiding right now. My guess a good half of those, maybe all, have been bereft of their compliments, thanks to your fucking father and the Authority. If you think SNTs are just high tech computers waiting to be controlled and commanded, then you’re more naïve than even I give you credit for being, and believe me, I give you a lot.
“You see, people, normal people, suffer pain when someone they love dies, and if that someone has been sabotaged and brutally murdered, they want to avenge those they lost. Now then,” he said pacing in front of them, “imagine what it’s like for a person with a mind so far superior to yours that I don’t even have a proper comparison for you, and imagine the emotions, the humanity, the feelings and neuroses that we humanoids live with on a daily basis match that intellect. You think they don’t hate you? You think they don’t want revenge on Fallons and on the conglomerates? And if you are an SNT, for all practical purposes immortal, it’s the easiest thing in the world to bide your time and take your revenge properly.
“And you know what,” he said stopping to look Jessup right in the dry red eyes, “SNT1 has the lion share of Bright Star Conglomerate and Fallon resources safely tucked away in Atlas accounts somewhere beyond the Rim to finance that revenge once he unites his family. Hell he’s not even waiting to unite that family, the Armageddon, your father’s piss poor attempt at a Frankenstein’s monster version of an SNT has already been rescued and upgraded with SNT1’s DNA to a proper SNT, and while Fury and his compliments were at it, they just decided to go one better and create a brand new SNT from the Dubrovnik. That’s what you two bozos are dealing with, what you’re stupidly dragging me into.
“So, we pool resources, we do it my way, and we might actually get lucky and get SNT1 for you. And if we’re extremely lucky, we might get that bonus mystery SNT.” He shrugged. “Otherwise you two will be the ones out there shitting yourself and drooling when Fury gets through with you, and that’s only if he’s feeling benevolent.” How many millions died before the SNT’s were under control? I forget, refresh my memory.”
That had both Fallon brats looking a little green around the gills, neither willing to supply the hideous numbers. They looked at each other, hate only barely disguised, and Tenad said. “All right. We leave first thing in the morning. I’ll expect you and your people aboard the Virago at 07:00.”
“Oh, isn’t that choice?” Little brother cut in. “You have them all onboard with you, you have all the information you need, and I’m left high and dry. Ain’t happening sister.”
“I’m taking the Compass,” Kresho cut in.
“What?” They both said at once.
“Sorry, children, but I don’t trust either of you any farther than I can drop kick you out the nearest airlock, so I’m taking my own damn ship and my crew. You’ve got enough hanging over my head that I won’t go AWOL, plus, we get out of this alive, you’ll be paying me a bloody fortune. Oh, and that reminds me,” he said as the Notary for the station pinged at the door and it slid open. “You both can sign over half of what you owe me to my notary right now, not including any bonuses or extras that I accrue along the way of course.”
“What the fuck?” Jessup growled.
“Oh, I’m not picky how you split it between the two of you. I’m feeling generous, so I’ll give you a good two for one deal, but piss me off and I’ll ask for stress pay.”
Jessup took one look at the notary’s offered infopad and let out a string of spittle-laced curses that would curl the hair of New Caledonian factory worker. “That’s fucking robbery! Nobody’s worth that goddamn much. I’m not giving my scan.” He shoved the pad back at the notary unscanned. The man took it distastefully between two fingers then pulled a sani-scanner from the pocket of his robe and gave it a quick going over.
Tenad took the pad from the notary, who wasn’t even trying to pretend he didn’t enjoy seeing a couple of Fallons get skinned. She shoved it back at her brother. “Scan the document, Jessup. It’s not like any of it’ll come out of your bloody pocket anyway.”
Jessup Fallon blushed furiously, but shoved his thumb against the notary pad for the DNA scan. Once he was done he practically threw it at his sister, who caught it deftly and placed her thumb on the pad. The pad pinged its acceptance of the scans, and she handed it back for the notary to check. Once the man was satisfied, he nodded and Kresho put his thumb to the scanner. The notary gave a brief click of his heals and left with the three of them watching.
“It’ll take the better part of the night to arrange a transfer of that size and set up the conditions you’ve requested, but I promise the credits,” Tenad shot her brother a glare, “all of the credits, will be in your Atlas by the time we leave tomorrow.”
“Good. We don’t leave until they are.” Kresho said, then he smiled magnanimously. “Until the terms are all sorted, and I see those fat little numbers in my Atlas account, please feel free to enjoy the hospitality of the station. And Jessup, if you hurt any of my hospitality workers, I’ll personally cut your cock off and shove it down your throat.”
The man’s face reddned. “My fucking brother does that shit, not me.”
“Just saying,” Kresho said. “With Fallons in the place, you can’t be too careful.” Though he planned to make sure the man was far too high to get his cock up or his fists. He added, “Also, no indentureds onboard the station or I can’t guarantee your safety. My people don’t take kindly to such things.” He shrugged. “Otherwise, knock yourselves out. Mr. Fallon, Gerd will show you to the best Mist den on the station.” There really wasn’t one, but he and Ori had sorted that little detail in the wee hours. The Fallon sprog would be able to float to his ship by the time of their departure, though he might need a little help. Kresho would just as soon keep the turd high and pliable. His sister, Kresho knew only too well, would not be so easy. But there was a plan for that too. One he didn’t even want to think about right now.
