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  Maat

  By A. Phallus Si

  Text copyright © 2017 A. Phallus Si

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover image by ESA/Hubble: M83, Messier 83

  Never forget

  We all come from the stars

  Blurb:

  Do you know why they call it a whisperblade?

  That’s the sound it makes slicing through flesh.

  Krax escaped Crater Base Delta 54 with nothing but the Sylvex shorts he wore. Now, he’s on the run with his new partner, Pherral. Part gladiator, part assassin, and captain of the Talon-class Aureus, Pherral is a man to be reckoned with, a man who can bring the champion to his knees—and an absolute enigma.

  Krax might have more questions than answers, but he’s ready to start his life anew. Krax knew that when he fled Frax stables that there would never be a dull moment, not with Pherral. True to form, shortly after they arrive at Space Portal Vector 7Z-218, things start coming fast and furious.

  Space Portal Vector 7Z-218 Universe

  Background on the world setup and species for this story as well as other books set in it see: https://spv7z218.wordpress.com/

  Cultural Logs – Species index

  Bauman: Arboroid. Bipedal species of tree shifters, massive in scale. Origins unknown. All contacts have been with mature entities as seedlings don’t leave their base tree. Upon maturity some males choose to wander the universe, reasons unknown. Prized as prisoners of war for their strength and as objects of phallic worship.

  Caurentian: Caninoid. Hierarchical species with prestige and honor based on trading, wealth, and allegiances. Origin: Sirius System. Observance of strict protocols is critical in successful negotiations. Aka. Golden Jackals

  Cirrinia: Cephaloid species that frequently presents in its octopedal form. Origin: Volans System. Often either shy or overly aggressive. Use ink as a defense mechanism or to express excitement. NOTE: Subspecies Haplo’s ink is lethally toxic to all humanoid species.

  Feldoonae: Felinoid species that reproduce solely via artificial means. Origin: Regulus System. Adults form prides and genetically design their offspring when mature, selecting for litter strength and diversity of skills.

  Fraxian: Humanoid shipbound species. Nomadic traders willing to handle any and all deals for a price. Flexible morals. Origin: Unknown. Homeworld destroyed when their sun went supernova; the Fraxians have been nomadic ever since. Lead ship of the fleet, Taraxicum.

  Freed: Data incomplete. See Hetaerae.

  Hetaerae: Humanoid. Little is known of this mysterious race other than they are prized as genetically desirable and seemingly of unending sexual appetites. Never observed outside of brothel or harem settings. Addendum: Race name is in question due to events on SPV7Z-218, per the Galactic Commerce Commission. Please refer to the species as Freed until further notice.

  Human: Humanoid. Coloring and attitudes vary significantly by colony. No set hierarchy or belief structure, political and social stability is an issue with less diverse colonies. Origin: Earth.

  Phos: Entry needed. Species name recorded, but details not known.

  Thlyacine: Caninoid. Bi-gestational species, both male and females reproduce. Polyamorous by nature, group bonding is the norm. Highly social, and often boisterous. Origin: Gamma Crucis System.

  Chapter 1

  Leaving was easier than he imagined. For as long as Krax could remember, his whole world was contained within the arena and his cell on Crater Base Delta 54. Not anymore. Star systems blurred like colored streamers through space as the Talon-class vessel Aureus bulleted towards their destination: Space Portal Vector 7Z-218. Krax looked out, space and time zipping past him, and realized that everything changed when he met Pherral—and it was a good thing.

  Krax’s apprehension lessened as their distance to Delta 54 lengthened and the success of his escape seemed less like a temporal anomaly and more like reality. He hadn’t been sure what to expect when he left with Pherral, other than the promise of a new life. Pherral had made it clear that the choice was Krax’s to make: stay on SPV or join Pherral as a partner. A partner for what, though? Pherral never really answered the question, but Krax got the idea that he handled a myriad of jobs, some less savory than others. He only hoped that the events of Crater Base Delta 54 were at the extreme of that spectrum.

  What began on the training sands for Pherral and Krax had become a full-scale exploration of each other’s bodies. Krax eagerly anticipated being ambushed, face-first on the deck as Pherral enjoyed his victor’s spoils. It wasn’t all sweat and oil, but they managed to carve out more time to indulge their baser instincts than Krax thought possible. Between the ship’s systems training and the handful of games Pherral taught him—the cheating bastard—their companionship aboard the Aureus grew stronger, and for once, Krax felt he could call someone friend.

  A friend who had given him freedom.

  A hand that pulled him out of an endless loop of violence and pain.

  Aureus might not be the biggest ship, but Krax would be willing to bet that it was one of the fastest. It was clear that the ship reflected its owner and his sensibilities. Fighting Pherral was like fighting a space wraith, here one moment and right behind you the next.

  So fast that you had no chance.

  It wasn’t brand spanking new, but it was immaculate. Everything had a place and everything was in its place. Kept so tidy and clean that Krax felt guilty being in some of the sections, especially, Pherral’s communication hub that gleamed with an incomprehensible number of screens and interfaces. Of course, that was the one section Pherral was intent on training him to command.

  Pherral glanced over at Krax, eyes sliding slowly, surveying. “You done training?”

  Krax joined him at the data terminal. “Physical, yeah.” He flexed some muscles and smiled. Pherral was an unpredictable mix of business and unbridled pleasure, and truth be told, Krax was never quite sure which direction any interaction would take.

  “We’ll see about that later.” Pherral returned to keying in. Whether he was making a comment about the efficacy of Krax’s workout or alluding to sexual activities later he didn’t know. With Pherral, it was as likely to be one as the other.

  “Sit.”

  Krax slid into the adjacent terminal. Pherral was typing in a long alphanumeric string. Krax recognized one segment, the Aureus registration number, but the rest was indecipherable. It ran for half the screen.

  “We’re coming up to SPV 7Z. I want you to learn the approval and docking procedures.” Pherral pointed to the screen. “This key is what you’ll need to learn. The communications manual has all the codes highlighted that we regularly use. Learn those first, then you can familiarize yourself with the remainder.”

  “You sure that’s the best plan?”

  “Would you rather be on weapons?” Pherral asked. “To be honest, I thought your skills were limited to hand-to-hand combat.”

  “True.”

  “Then we’ll start you on those after communications, but in the meantime, I’ll be in charge of piloting and weapons and you’ll take communications and engineering.” Pherral pulled up a separate screen in front of Krax. “These are the ship’s specs. Take some time and familiarize yourself with the layout.”

  Krax sighed. This was a lot of material and he didn’t know any of it.

  As if he could read minds, Pherral added, “Don’t worry. I’ve been doing this all solo. Just come up to speed and then you can take over some of the tasks.”

  “It was easier when I was champion.”

  “Yeah, but it’s better than being dead.” Pherral throttled down the engines.

  All the blurs blinked to a stop as they exited the wormhole. Far range sensors showed a large object dead ahead. Pherral pulled up a different screen. The blank backgr
ound faded into an ornate seal bearing the official insignia of Space Portal Vector 7Z-218. He flipped a few more screens and engaged the audio system.

  “Tower Control, this is the Talon-class vessel Aureus requesting docking privileges.” Pherral kept punching keys as he transmitted.

  There was a long pause. Finally, a sibilant voice replied, “Welcome back, Captain Anubis. Berth G17 is available. Please proceed to the coordinates indicated.”

  “Thank you, Sirrux.” Pherral smiled and winked at Krax. “Proceeding as directed.”

  “Captain Anubis?” Krax asked incredulously, rolling his eyes. The depth of Pherral’s arrogance was astounding. It took a special kind of confidence to take the name of a cult figure. The Caurentians reserved a place of honor for the ancient deity of the Underworld, and Pherral’s co-option arguably bordered on sacrilegious. Of all the species Krax had ever met, the Caurentians were the most likely to be offended. Most cultures had rules, but Caurentia had rules upon rules upon rules.

  Pherral seem unperturbed by Krax’s question. Indeed, he exuded nothing more than indifference as he explained. “My family name is problematic in many sectors, so I adopted a trading pseudonym. Keeps everyone happy.”

  It was clear that Pherral came from an important family. Krax recognized that his arrogance stemmed from privilege. Money and power had shaped Pherral’s life as much as Krax’s cell affected his. This just made him wonder further about the extent of Pherral’s upbringing.

  “You plan on sharing that any time soon?”

  Pherral glanced over while he was maneuvering through the crowded bay, which concerned Krax more than a bit. The G dock clearance was narrow with varying vessels lining both sides from sleek stealth crafts to bulky commerce transports. The Aureus was definitely the most expensive, top of the line ship in this section. Pherral seemed to be casually negligent, his familiarity with negotiating the G Bay evident as they came within meters of the afterburner on the vessel adjacent to their berth.

  “Tell you what.” Pherral deployed the landing gear and powered down the engines, running through his post-flight check. “You remember your name and I’ll share mine.”

  Krax frowned. He hated this argument. Ever since their first conversation onboard the Aureus, Pherral was convinced that Krax wasn’t confiding in him. Truth is, Krax couldn’t remember anything before Crater Base Delta 54. The more he thought about it, the more it upset him. He had a strange feeling that he knew at one point, but then forgot. He just couldn’t figure out if time or sustained injuries were the cause of his amnesia.

  “Pherral. I don’t know. Believe me,” Krax entreated though he knew it was futile. “You’ve done nothing but help me. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  Pherral sighed, sounding more tired than aggrieved. “We should have you checked out while we’re here and get us both medical clearance before our next job. My faith in Delta 54’s hyperknit chambers is low.”

  Krax nodded.

  “Do you want to go by a different name until you remember? I mean, it’s doubtful anyone here has been to Crater Base Delta 54, but it would be best not to have that name show up on any official communiqués.”

  Pherral twisted and started typing in a different console. A series of cryptic ciphers scrolled across the screen. Suddenly, an image of Krax’s face appeared, and Pherral looked at him.

  “Well?” He gestured to the screen. “I need to make your IDenticred. You’re not going anywhere without one. What do you want to be called?”

  This was a chance at a fresh start, a new name for a new beginning, and all thanks to Pherral. Krax didn’t really care, but he supposed he needed one. He searched his mind for anything he recalled about Anubis.

  Krax smirked; this was perfect. “Ma’at.”

  Pherral just stared, and for a moment Krax thought he was going to tell him to pick another name. Again, he underestimated Pherral who grinned, laughing as he typed.

  “Excellent. I need someone to weigh their hearts.”

  Chapter 2

  SPV 7Z squatted in space like a junker, all hobbled pieces of mismatched transports welded together, an architecture driven by available components, not design. Nonetheless, it continued to grow. There seemed to be ongoing construction of a new section. The exterior was unimpressive, and on the inside, money went where money was made. The bays were scuffed and scarred from years of use, but this was the closest thing to a home Pherral had beyond Aureus.

  Krax didn’t require any coaxing to get him off the ship. He hovered, watching Pherral run through the systems, shutting them down. Learning the procedures is what Krax would say, but it seemed more like cabin fever. It was a vast improvement from the start of their journey. Those few moments, as they faced off in the corridor of Crater Base Delta 54, Pherral thought Krax might not join him. The gladiator had nothing but death to look forward to, and yet, he almost turned back. After being alone for sols, Pherral was surprised by how easily Krax shared Aureus’ close quarters.

  They were headed towards the registry office, when a voice called out.

  “Captain Anubis!”

  Pherral turned at the shout to greet the uniformed figure approaching from the opposite side of Docking Bay G. While not as large as Krax, he was impressively sized.

  “Brixton.” Pherral smiled. He opened his arms and hugged the young pup. He had always felt more at ease with Thlyacines than his own people, much to his family’s disapproval. Their camaraderie was easier to live amongst than the stifling strictures of Caurentia. Pherral never once regretted his decision to leave.

  “Fleeing trouble, again?”

  “Something like that.” Pherral laughed.

  Brixton eyed Krax curiously, who seemed to be doing much the same, but cautiously. In fact, he’d moved to Pherral’s left and was guarding his flank, unconsciously. Instincts like that would need to be restrained in certain instances, but he let it go.

  “Brixton, meet my new partner, Ma’at.”

  Brixton’s eyes flashed back to Pherral. “Partner?”

  Krax bristled, taking the comment as a challenge. Pherral could imagine the scenarios running through his gladiator brain. How much Krax knew about Caurentian culture was unknown, yet more than expected as the name selection surprised Pherral. Nonetheless, Krax invariably had a limited understanding of Caurentia’s byzantine societal conventions, rigid roles, and hierarchical language employed. The pomp and circumstance of regulated interactions and the precise nature of terminology used were not easily grasped other than by those reared within its confines.

  Years of incarceration etched Krax’s mind as much as the gladiatorial combat did his body. It honed his skills to succeed within the outlined rules of the arena. Krax didn’t like surprises and didn’t like people being surprised either, a charming straightforwardness that Pherral would have to break him of. Liabilities like that often equated with fatal consequences. They had time; Pherral just needed to pick the right jobs in the meanwhile.

  “Not that kind. He’s assisting me in upcoming work.”

  Both visibly relaxed. Brixton’s assumption that Pherral would make an alliance with Krax was based on nothing more than Caurentian norms, but that he did it so quickly made Pherral think. It presented a convincing identity for them to use.

  Unsurprisingly, Brixton, garrulous as ever, made the first move. “Welcome to SPV 7Z.”

  Krax stared at the outstretched hand, slowly mirroring Brixton in greeting. They shook longer than necessary and Brixton’s face furrowed in confusion at Krax’s response. Clearly, they needed to work on that, too.

  Clapping Brixton on the shoulder, Pherral directed the attention back to him. “We’ve got to sign in. Want to meet up at Stripes?”

  Brixton tore his gaze away from Krax to look at Pherral. “No, The Root. Say… 2200.

  “Perfect.” Pherral herded Krax towards the customs desk.

  He pulled out his IDenticred and gestured for Krax to do the same. He tossed it, the card sliding across the smooth m
etal and just stopping before the agent. It wasn’t one Pherral had met before. It was strange to see unfamiliar faces, here.

  The agent scanned his, and grunted. Tossing it back, he grabbed Krax’s and did the same. He took longer, scanned the data screen, and then looked Krax up and down. He paused, taking in the scanty red Sylvex shorts, shrugged, and tossed it back. The agent turned his attention back to Pherral holding out a small vidscreen.

  “Captain Anubis, I’m sure you’re aware, but I have been instructed to impress upon you the restrictions which you are subject to during your sojourn with us.” There was a deliberate pause as if the agent was waiting for some counterstatement, proclamation, or query. When Pherral offered none, he continued. “That includes, but is not limited to: no phase weapons of ANY manufacture, no ballistics, no chemical sprays or injectors, no disruptors, no—“

  “I am well aware of all the listed restrictions, and since they continue for two more screens wouldn’t it be easier if I just agree to the terms, now?” Pherral offered with a toothy smile.

  Frankly, after the last seven times he visited and they read it in its entirety you’d think there would be a shortcut version for him to sign off on instead of this charade. They all knew something would happen and Pherral would be censured and fined, but yes; let’s do the theater.

  The agent raised a brow and looked about to begin again when he sighed. Scrolling to the bottom to he finished, “—And lastly, absolutely NO interactions of any sort with the Well of Tells.”

  “Good riddance,” muttered Pherral as he placed his thumb on the screen for a genetic agreement signature.

  The agent ignored his comment. The registration dinged softly and the gates opened. Pherral thought he’d escaped without further inanities, but walking through the dented panels he heard, “Welcome to Space Portal Vector 7Z-218. May your stay be blissful.”