Penny

The Sorceress and the Slave

Chapter One

"Are you sure this is the one you want mistress, he is young yes, an up and comer but we have maannny who might suit your needs," the overseer prattled obsequiously as he lead his guest down the dim stone corridor beneath the arena. Uncertain breezes stirred the dust into small zephyrs here and there and the scent of stale blood lay heavy on the subterranean passageways. The overseer leered at his guest from beneath his grease stained fez. It was not unusual for highborn ladies, as he took his visitor to be, to sport with slaves, even buy famous champions for their own amusements. It was unusual for such a one to appear at dawn and demand to see a particular slave, and to make the demand credible with cold silver.

The woman was dressed in diaphanous black silks which hung around her frame pleasingly, golden ornaments glittered and her wrists and an a ruby necklace was clasped at her throat. Small golden charms in the shape of strange sigils hung from a silvery veil which was pulled across her face, revealing only a glimpse of smooth olive skin and dark intense eyes.

"This is the one," she said simply, her unadorned words as harsh as any rebuke she might have leveled. The slave master flinched as if struck and ducked his head leading her down yet another corridor. Barred cages lined the vaulted stone work, arms reached for her, some seeking the touch of a woman's skin, others merely human contact. Without fail the overseer cracked their knuckles with his baton driving them back into their cages. Here and there a more high prestige fighter had a cot or some furniture, one even had a ragged looking prostitute draped across his bead, but for the most part they were squalor.

Reaching a cell like any other the woman suddenly paused, then turned to peer into the darkness.

"This is the one," she said quietly.

"No, no, not this one, the one you seek is..." the overseer objected, panic that his plan to pass some other less profitable slave off as the fighter she sought seemed to evaporate before his eyes.

"Get him out and bring him to the pit," she commanded coldly, "and two others besides."

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

200 years from now the glip glops from Traflorkia would think we were xenophobic not to include them.

@mdk

Pretty sure they wont have to go all the way to state constitutions to establish that.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Sayeeda worked the fusion bottle as quickly as she dared as the gauges lit up. The fusion cells the jeep used were order of magnitudes smaller than the Highlanders own twin units, but the principal was much the same. With the aid of her helmet AI, she connected cables and by passed saftey cut offs, throwing switches and punching buttons. After a moment number two fusion reactor hummed, blinking red as its magnetic containment bottle came online. The smaller reactor power level plumeted even as Junebug threw the last cut out. With a shuddering sound the fusion process in number two ignited, expanding to fill the fusion bottle. Lights and systems began to flicker on and off and sparks rained from overhead panels that hadn't been patched yet.

"Neil shut down...!" but the pilot was already on it, scrambling to the main breaker board and tearing out fuses to all but the most crititcal systems. A puff of dust blew from the vents as the air reycler kicked on and Junebug's nose filters clamped down from her helmet to protect her respitory system. She stood frozen for a moment unwilling to risk jynxing the repair by moving. Everything held steady.

"Lonney? You back with us?"

"Aye Capt'm!"

"Can you pull anything from the astro nav?" she enquired, kicking off and floating up towards the bridge area.

"No Input ta go un Capt'm," the AI responded cheerfully. Junebug frowned. The disturbance in the R.I.P must have been worse than... the thought died in her mind as she emerged onto the bridge and saw the damage report schematic on Neil's terminal.

"Well fuck," she added helpfully. For a moment all she could do was stare at the the display, the familiar feeling of feeling a shot pass close by prickling her skin. It was a miracle they were still alive at all. Drifting to her console she punched in a few commands and started the few external sensors taking star sights. It was too much to hope for that they were anywhere on the charts, but at least they could locate a planet they could set down and effect real repairs.

"Where the hell are we?" she asked no one in particular.

The Sorceress and the Slave

The moon shone pale on silver shod Sharsaya, touching the polished sandstone minarets a dream like sheen of white light. Hot winds rose in the eastern passes, bringing the sharp scent of the desert into the dusty shadowed streets. The great market of Iz-Rayed was quiet, its canvas stalls fluttering uneasily in the breeze. Even now an intoxicating melange of scents hung in the air, spices from far of Cathay, sandalwood from Rasha Fodum, incense from the desert monasteries of Tar Haddin and other less identifiable smells. Few merchants remained, only the poorest who could afford no bedding elsewhere, still loitered, dozing in their stupors of cheap arak and questionable hashish.

The woman came from the east, perhaps from Mecasia or Ibryn along the great Caravan route. The Pasha's guards, themselves drowzing in the evenings sultry heat, did not remark her. And if they had what would they have said? That a woman came alone out of the east to the gates of Sharsaya at midnight? That she was shrouded in layers of gauzy fabric in the manner of the desert nomads? They did not know her, could not see the shackles of polished iron which encircled her wrists. It was better that they slept.

The first to take notice of her were the dogs, for the lower beasts were more sensitive to such things. The Prophet, blessed be his name, had said that such as she would be reviled by the companions of men. And such as the Prophet, blessed be his name, spoke, was true. Dogs slank away into the night with low whimpers at her approach. Human predators were not so wise.

The footpads met her at the mouth of an alley, having tracked her some distance through the moon shrouded streets. The promise of a woman alone in the night was too tempting for the petty and the cruel. They thought themselves blessed, when in response to their lewd entreaties she lowered her veil to reveal a face young and beautiful. A diadem of silver worked moonstone settled on her brow, promising coin as well as sport. It wasn't until they reached for her and she lifted her hands, bound at the wrist with polished iron that they began to realize their mistake.

She spoke their names. Not the crude words by which their mothers, street whores and beggars, had used with scant affection, but their true names. For as surely as Allah, Blessed be His Name, knows the name of every grain of sand in the great desert, so too did this woman know the names of her attackers. With a word and a gesture of her hand she tore the life from them, leaving only shrivled husks to excite to gossip of the bazzar when the sun rose and the chants called the faithful to prayer.

Thus Amira of Ilyn Basyir came to silver shod Sharsaya, on the most dire of errands.

@POOHEAD189

The Sorceress and the Slave

Currently in: Sharsaya

notable locations:

The great market of Iz-Rayed

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

So go abortion!

@Burning Kitty

Welcome aboard!

Frokane's Mildly Politcal Hangout Thread

bernie voting socialist.

@Dynamo Frokane

You mean a hard core Stalinist!

Now if you'll excuse me its back to murdering babies and imprisoning people who misgender people.

Grim Galaxy: Shots and Chances

Sayeeda floated upside down in the access conduit. Turning off the grav pumps hand't helped restore power and so they were checking the junctions manually. The light in her helmet burned in the darkness, illuminating the circuit board she was working on, AI providing visual cues for her as she compared components against catalgouge data. A tool box floated next to her, complete with a small battery for sodering iron and micro welder.

"Junction A11-2B looks like its cooked all its capacitors," she said, the radio carrying the words to the ear unit Neil was wearing. She leaned in with her pliers and began stripping out the blackened capacitor units and then soddering fresh ones into place, the inbuilt multi-meter in her helmet verifying each of the connections as she marked them complete.

"Fuck," was Neil's eloquent response. She could hear the whir of one of the diamond saws over the static of the radio. They had decided to leave Taya in Cryo so long as there was enough auxiliary power to make her safe. Until the oxygen recycles were back in action there was no point wasting air. The girl had demonstrated she was smart and had some technical skills, but she didn't have the calm in a crisis that necessity had inculcated in both Neil and Sayeeda.

"Must have been some kind of subspace electrical pulse," Neil mumbled, "Probably cooked every shielded system."

"Are we fucked on navigation then?" Sayeeda asked calmly. If that were the case they were dead sure as the Galaxy spun. She tripped the test switch on the panel and watched it light up green before kicking off the conduit to float along to the next junction where she stopped herself with pressure of her hand against the wall.

"Not as such," Neil replied, it sounded like he was holding a bolt in his mouth, a moment later she heard the dispenser whir it into place.

"Nav and RIP drive are shielded and seperate just in case, if we can get power we can probably get the astronav to figure out where the hell we are. Even make a short jump to a planet." Sayeeda laughed tinnily over the radio.

"Yeah ok then we just have to land with no engine control," she grinned inspite of herself, if you couldn't laugh at crisis then life as a mercenary was a cheerless bussiness.

"One impossible task at a time Captain," Neil replied, the same grim humor in his voice. Sayeeda paused in consideration.

"Neil if we could get Lonney online could he give us a system wide schematic?"

"Sure but we don't have the power for that."

"What if I fired up the fusion bottle in the gun jeep in the hold? I could discharge it into the grid." There was a long pause.

"It would be pretty low power compared to the ship, plus how would you get it started without a jump?"

"I know a trick or two, and we only need Lonney for a few seconds to give us a damage control read out, then we can target the damage to the essential systems. Can you direct the power so it will flow only to the AI core?" Another lengthy pause.

"Should be possible Cap," Neil said his voice tentatively hopeful.

"Alright," she kicked off the wall and started floating down towards the main hold, "get started on the transformer and current path, ILl see if can coax the gun jeep to life."

@POOHEAD189