The Line of the Sol Empress

Chapter 2.1

He froze. "Wait. How did you know about her? Were you spying on me, Sai?"

"Given past incidents, I thought it prudent to monitor your activities, sir. I hacked into the tavern security system. Their firewall is woefully inadequate. Nonetheless, our passenger is not that woman, rather one unknown to me. I have her on a hold monitor now."

Moon turned toward the view screen before him and pondered the image. The woman stood on her toes to peer over a grey pack crate, so she was not very tall. Wearing a blue tank top with a long flowing wrap-skirt, not at all like the form fitting fashions worn by most women in the spaceport, she crept through the rows of crates. One hand pushed back strands of long dark hair that swung before her eyes while the other tightly clutched a black duffle bag.

She seems nervous. Like she knows she should not be here.

The woman disappeared from the camera view but then appeared on another, this time closer. Her gaze darted back and forth.

Perhaps not so nervous as afraid. "Wait, what is that on her neck? Sai, try to zoom in."

Moon stepped forward, closer to the monitor screen. The image panned down from her slim face and high cheekbones. The dark marking on the side of her neck stood out even on her copper-colored skin, that of a spiraling circle shape with radiating rays, a stylized image of a sun.

"Why would a Sol Priestess be hiding on my ship?" He rose and walked over to a small cabinet near the bridge hatch to extract a hand pulse gun. He set it for stun, flicking a lever until a single yellow light came on above the grip. "Sai, I think it is time I greet our guest."

She must be desperate to be here. And that makes her dangerous.

"Be careful, sir. The last time you had a woman on the ship she tried to kill you."

"Don't remind me!" He grumbled, "Why do I always get the bat-shit crazy ones?"

"If you wish, sir, I could load my psychotherapy subroutines."

Moon put a palm to his face. "Not now, Sai! Let's deal with the problem at hand. Go to intrusion protocol."

He took one more look at the woman on the monitor. She sat leaning back against a crate, her dark hair cascaded down to block the view of her downturned face. Pulling her knees up under her skirt, she wrapped a blue scarf around her shoulders and shivered. The black bag laid in her lap.

Moon placed his hand on the biometric scanner near the starboard cargo hold. The hatch unlocked with a sharp click, and the hinges squealed and screeched as it swung open.

He grimaced. Well, so much for stealth.

Moon unholstered the pulse gun, but kept it pointed down. Advancing as quietly as possible, he peered around a crate toward the woman's last position. Sighing, his breath made small swirling clouds in the cold air. She was no longer there.

Moon stood up straight and called out, "Hello, wayward traveler. You should not be here."

He spun around to scan the area, but his view was limited by the forest of shipping containers. No response. He stood for a moment in thought, then said in a low voice. "Sai, where is she?"

The reply came over his earpiece. "Sir, I suggest you turn around slowly."

He did. Oh crap, she has a gun.

Moon looked down the barrel of a handgun, an old-style projectile weapon, but one quite lethal.

He gulped. "Umm, maybe we should talk this out?"