Held by Luna Voss
29
Melyta
In order to disguise the planet’s location, Jenyta takes a circuitous route leading us to spend three days in hyperspace instead of the necessary one and a half. Arthur Gallo is personable company for the voyage, being friendly with all of us and going out of his way to talk to Jenyta, asking her questions about the different flight controls and her experience with piloting. I almost might have thought him to be sexually interested in her, before realizing that he recognizes her as the least experienced among the four of us and our weakest link, and is instead almost certainly trying to gather information. Barion and I have a talk with her the moment he disappears into his cabin the first night, explaining his intentions and reminding her to be reticent with information. She handles the situation admirably, but still seems to enjoy having someone to talk to during the flight, which is mostly autopilot.
“You sure do love flying considering how boring you seem to find it,” I remark as we prepare to reach our destination on the third day.
She laughs. “It’s flying in hyperspace that’s boring. I basically just watch the engine readout. I’ll be honest, though, I never expected being a pilot to mean I could literally get eight hours of sleep while the flying the ship. Only thing keeping this interesting is that we’re riding such a piece of junk. You never know when this Epeshi tech is going to fall apart.” The console in front of her beeps. “Okay! Pulling out of hyperspace! Now I get to be a real pilot.”
I watch through the front viewscreen as the streaking hyperspace blinks into stillness and Planet 88224 appears in front of us, vast and ominous. Jenyta guides the ship expertly towards it, through the atmosphere, and to a different part of the globe than we visited last time. As we descend, I see structures below us, first as dots, then as buildings, grids of machinery, and the solar farm Jenyta mentioned. It’s amazing to think all of this was constructed within the last month.
Of course, it wasn’t constructed. It was prefabricated, and stolen from the Rangasta Corporation. And it looks impressive. Which was the entire point of bringing Arthur Gallo here.
He emerges from his cabin and walks up behind us, Korva and Barion joining us a moment later. As we get closer, I see a pair of men walking between one of the buildings and something that looks to be an enormous silo.
Then we touch down on a huge open-air landing pad, kicking up an enormous cloud of dust.
“Welcome to our humble ditrykium facility,” Barion says to the human boss calmly.
If I didn’t know better, I would swear Barion and Arthur Gallo actually liked each other. Actually no, that’s not even something I’m imagining. They definitely have a vibe. A kind of mutual respect I wouldn’t have expected, considering my main experience with the Gallo Family is them trying to murder us multiple times.
Not too long ago, that would have shocked me. Now, though, nothing does. The world of organized crime is like a swirling tide, with loyalties ever-changing, alliances forging and breaking based on what’s advantageous to the different players at the time. Barion is too familiar with this world to hold grudges. If he and Arthur have compatible personalities, it’s natural that their enmity could fade into friendship.
Besides, right now Arthur is useful to us. We’ll see what the future brings.
“This is… impressive,” says Arthur as Korva leads our group through the outdoor compound, pointing out the extractors, the refiners, the silos. “I won’t even bother trying to pretend it isn’t. How did you acquire this?”
“Trade secret,” says Barion, grinning. “A gentleman never tells.”
“If I’m going to consider this, I’m going to need a minimum of 25 percent.”
My mate throws his head back in a hearty laugh. “Very funny, Arthur. Try five percent. That’s got to be more than what your family brings in in a year.”
Now it’s Arthur’s turn to laugh. “Not even close. Fifteen percent.”
“Seven percent. You don’t want in on this, we’re not struggling for other interest. You’re not exactly the only man in the galaxy who’d like a tax-free cut of a thriving ditrykium mine.”
“I’m the only man in the galaxy who can take care of your Sarizor problem. Twelve percent.”
“Nine percent.”
“Ten.”
The two men glare at each other for a moment, then nod. Grim, purposeful excitement spreads over both of their faces.
“Does that mean I can call you a partner?” Barion asks, extending his hand.
“Not yet,” says Arthur shaking his head. “I need some time to think about this.”
Barion blinks before recovering and returning his hand to his side. “Understood. Don’t take too long. I wouldn’t want this opportunity pass you by.”
