'Firefly meets Battlestar Galactica'.
A merchant's daughter is captured and sold into slavery.
A genetically modified survivor of an alien attack scours the galaxy for her taken brother before he is 'disassembled'.
An alien scientist u...
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Daphne lingered at the port far longer than intended. The first week was excusable. The Pathosian merchant Titus made a fortune off her hair from his New Tokyo contacts. Because he liked her, he reinvested a portion of the money into her ship.
Thanks to Titus, she possessed advanced cloaking tech, good enough to fool Barlok sensors, as well us an upgraded weapons system. With a trusted technician installing the new hardware, Daphne spent her time stocking supplies, searching for tips on the Nisseri, and wiping out the pocket money of her evening Galthadar opponents.
The Pathosian often kept her company since Balthar and Cass had business to attend to. He stopped propositioning her after the third night but didn't seem to mind. He drilled her endlessly on card tricks and how she learned to pilot a ship in the 'heathen cesspit' of Jamestown. His attitude toward her home didn't surprise her, the territory was known for its extreme distrust of outsiders. They barred off worlders from entering the wall and other humans were inspected before allowed entry. She was surprised by the general hatred everyone bore against the secluded region. Titus was floored by this small detail of her origins, advising her to keep the knowledge limited to a trusted few. She learned why when news trickled into port of the Nisseri raid. The less than flattering reaction of the community summed up with "those self- serving pigs brought it on themselves." She needed to get off this world, to ports where no one heard or cared about Jamestown.
She hit another snag while gathering information. The Nisseri were everywhere, leaving crossed trails and scattered clues in their wake. Her best informant turned out to be her nightly Galthadar opponent and sometime drinking companion Thrack. The Barlok was a surprising friend, and proved how misinformed her people were of his race. Thrack was a far cry from the Merc Barlok patrons of the pub. He hailed from one of the remaining Honor-bound planets in the empire, living by a code Daphne had no idea existed before him. A member of his world's peacekeeping force, he closely monitored the Nisseri activity on and around New Earth Six.
He deferred her home from their first conversation, but didn't hold it against her, passing along as much information as he was allowed to give. It was from Thrack she learned of a similar but smaller raid in the Terra Nova territory days before Jamestown was hit. He wasn't certain if the two raids were carried out by the same group, but the increase in activity was unusual and risky for the Nisseri.
"Why would they take so many people if it drew military attention?" Daphne asked him one night over their final round of drinks.
The Barlok paused over his chaga, a liquid capable of dissolving rocks. Daphne spent enough time in Thrack's company to read the expressions he made. She'd call this his troubled face. "What is it?"
"You will not like to hear this," he said in his heavily stilted Uni-speak.
Daphne smiled, patting one of his four arms. "The concern is touching, my friend, but I'd rather hear it from you than someone else."
His larger set of eyes stayed focused on her, the small set darting away in embarrassment. Honestly, Barlok physiology fascinated her; she wished she'd attempted to learn more about them.
"The Nisseri sell a fraction of their acquisitions, harvesting the rest."
Daphne knew what he implied. She nodded, butting her head against his top left shoulder. "Thank you for the warning, but I can't give up on him, he's family. I promised to bring him home."
"You live like the Honor-bound." Thrack mumbled, gulping his chaga.
She refused to give up, but she didn't know where to begin. If she tracked the wrong ships it increased the likelihood she'd lose Miles forever. If she did find him, would the upgraded weapons in her scout ship be enough to fire fight with a Nisseri raiding party? Was he even alive, a month and half after his capture? Thrack informed her he had a good chance, the Nisseri kept extractions for months, preferring live donors for salvage and transplant.
The doubts and grim margin of chance plagued her, dragging on her conscience until Cass found her one night, nursing a drink while Titus eyed her in concern.
"Miss Daphne, is that vagrant techie still updating your ship? Cass asked, ignoring the Pathosian's glare.
She sniffed. "No, Titus said he finished three days ago." The older serious merchant brother eased into the seat next to her, setting down a sealed tube before him.
"Why are you here, then?"
She stared into her drink, formulating an answer. "I don't know where to go. I've come all this way, acquired a ship, sold my hair, and I'm no closer to saving my brother, if he's alive. I don't have a direction to start looking."
"I think this will help," he said, pushing the tube toward her. Daphne grabbed it, opening it with a puzzled frown. A data chip fell into her palm. "A parting gift from your Barlok friend. His duty has called him away but he tracked the Nisseri raiding party who took your brother. This contains all his information and a star chart of their trail."
Daphne wished she could wrap her arms around the big fuzzy lug. Thrack helped her more than he knew. She did throw her arms around Cass. "Thank you, for everything."
"You are a strong spirit, Miss Daphne, may Grillna protect you."
She grinned, wiping a stray tear from her eye. "I'll miss you. Keep an eye on Balthar for me."
"I'll keep two."
Titus walked with her to the Red Mutineer one last time, the Pathosian unusually quiet, obviously preoccupied.
"You really do have the worst bluffing face," she teased when they reached her ship. He seized her shoulder.
"Daphne," he began, hesitant.
"Titus."
His orange eyes brimmed with concern, letting her read him as easily as he read her. "Not all Pathosians are like me, especially the Nobles."
She laughed, clasping his wrist. "This is what's been troubling you? I know more about your people than you give me credit."
His features softened. "I don't doubt that. You are full of surprises, and as someone who has brought me such good fortune and delightful friendship I insist on giving you this." He lifted a chain from his neck, a spiky emblem twirling on the end. "All members of the Pathosian military are given one, it might save your life. Remember, you'll always be able to tell a Noble from a Plebeian. "
"How so?"
"A Noble doesn't take no for an answer," He said, dropping the chain around her neck.
Daphne bid her friend goodbye, hugging him tight before boarding the Red Mutineer for her maiden voyage.
