“Light! Glorious light! And that smell!” Leoven extended his wings, flaring in the morning sun. “Let us fly clear of this detritus!”
Fawkes followed his friend down the river. It became a waterfall very soon, and they were able to glide down towards what looked like a thick rainforest.
“So we really are on Temron.” Fawkes said, seeing the endless expanse of jungle.
“Indeed. A Floral Core. Not as bad as you think. There is a lot of Vorchan life out here. The good life. Away from all that industry.”
“You consider the good life an escape from all that machinery… yet you work in—“
“A prison yes I know. Well the pay is good, and when I returned from the war. I never thought I would have enjoyed such a place, but I decided to move. I needed the money. I was… lost.”
Fawkes attempted to hail Flames, but his neural interface still wasn’t receiving a signal.
“Is there a jamming field up?”
“Always. A safety precaution in case of escaped prisoners. Only a select few have beemspace access out here.”
“Do you know where the nearest beemspace transceiver is?” Fawkes asked.
“Yes. Back at the prison.” he beckoned behind them. All you could see of the prison at this angle was a large antenna mast that cut into the horizon.
“Second nearest?”
Leoven shook his head. “That’s the only one.”
“Of course it is.”
“Well… there’s a town called Lona. It’s a few kilometres down this river by a basin. I know a trader there that can get you a transport.”
“I don’t have any credits to my name.”
“You’re ex-Fercius Fawkes! I’m sure he’ll figure something out.”
“Or trade me back to the guard.”
“Hmm… yes.” They were lost in thought for a while as they walked along the river, stopping occasionally to flush out their wounds, or try to get more of the garbage grime off. Oh what Fawkes wouldn’t give for a nice shower.
When they arrived at Lona, it was quite a bit past midday. The air was humid and warm, and their scales were being bombarded by tiny insects set on getting a nice garbagey meal.
Nobody seemed to recognize Fawkes, and they were able to meet Leoven’s friend with little trouble.
He was a meek Desert, a single dull sandy brown extending his entire length. Even his spikes had yellowed to match his scale color. He wore golden rings around his neck and tail, and had a few pierced into his wing-spar. There was an also an amulet around his neck. It was rectangular, and glowed emerald. Fawkes wished he had Flames on paw to identify things.
“Greetings.” said the Desert to the two Vorchans as they entered the small house. “It looks like you’ve had quite the trip.”
The walls were stone, and the furniture was simple wood. There wasn’t much of it. A single table and a few mats for sitting on. A large fan spun slowly above them. It was the only electronic device in the entire room.
“Hello, friend. May I use your shower facilities?” Leoven asked politely, wings twitching.
“Of course.”
Leoven vanished through a door behind them, leaving Fawkes alone with the Desert.
“So what brings you out here to Temron?” he asked.
Fawkes wasn’t sure how much he could say. So he explained carefully, avoiding names and particular incidents. By the end of his story, he realized he sounded like a lowly criminal.
“Well you must be quite the Vorchan to have Leoven put his neck on the line for you. I’m Tresed.”
“Nacluv.” Fawkes said quickly, having thought up the name on their way here. “Leoven said you have a ship –“
“That I do, quite the craft. But it won’t get you past Temron’s air defences.” Tresed said.
Well, there went that.
“Is there any other way off this planet?” Fawkes asked.
“You’re only option is a spaceport.”
“They’ll be looking for me there.”
“Perhaps, but I might be able to convince the guard to let you through.” Tresed said, eyes wandering. “Though the cost of such a risky endeavour…”
“Is there no other way?” Fawkes asked, really not liking this idea.
“Well, unless you can assault the radar systems, an unregistered craft will be shot down in seconds. Other than that…”
“What about a beemspace transceiver?” Fawkes remembered. “I have a ship that might be able to help.”
“A Captain, are you?”
Fawkes nodded. “If I can get word out to him, I might be able to use him to escape.”
“You’re in a Core World, son – what was your name? – “
“Uh—” Fawkes desperately tried to remember.
“If you think you can get a ship in here unauthorized then you are solely mistaken. I don’t care if it’s the Black Nova himself. There is no way into this system without VE authorization.”
“The spaceport it is, then. But I don’t really have any credits to give. Not until I escape.” Fawkes said.
“That’s understandable. I know of a way this could work.” Tresed opened a closet door. It was full of scrap and wiring. He pulled out a collar, holding it in his jaws while he dusted it off with his talons. He dropped the collar by Fawkes’ feet.
“What is that?” Fawkes asked uneasily, it looked like a slave collar.
“A device that will guarantee your payment. It’s very nifty. You see it’s a simple slave collar whose micro-explosive trigger has been modified to disarm given a certain condition. The condition here, of course, would be your payment.”
Fawkes really wasn’t liking what he was hearing.
“It’s really very simple.” Tresed continued to explain, “After you are cleared of Temron, the slave collar will activate the way they normally do when slaves tried to escape. Once the standard count-down begins, you transfer the funds to my account and the collar falls off.”
“Can’t I just promise to pay you?” Fawkes suggested with a desperate smile.
Tresed shook his head.
“Is there any other way.”
Tresed shook his head.
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