allowed to do this thing."
The guards laughed.
"Have you failed to notice," the largest of the guards, and the one wearing Captain's insignia said, "that there has been a changing of the guards?" He laughed."Your precious salvaging whore demoted the nobility. Made us nothing. Turned our country into a land of garbage diggers. No more. With our help our good king will return the pride of our nation, and we will finally lay waste to the Lockhedes. We will use the wealth the Queen of Filth has filled her pockets and the country's coffers with to build an army that no one can stand against, and topple all who would stand in our way."
Facto shook with the implications."Don't you see, man? You will only destroy the country. There will be great loss of life, and . . ."
"Shut up, old man! Only the peons will die, and we shall regain our true station."
They were shoved roughly into a cell. The door shut with a clang and locked behind them.
Facto looked defiantly at the guard as he spoke."If you allow this lunacy to take place, all that you will have for your trouble is a smoking hole where our once great country stood. I beg of you . . ."
The guards laughed loud enough to drown him out and walked away.
Stasha went to sit on the hard wooden bed, which was the only furniture in the cell, and tried to contain herself.
"My sister is walking into a trap. One that not even she can escape from," Stasha said.
"Margot is still out. My good wife will find a way to warn the queen." As if to mock him, two more guards walked in, dragging Margot between them.
Stasha looked up and sighed."Well, as my sister might say, we're fucked!"
Chapter 3
Van Gar hadn't really thought much about being unstrapped, without the benefit of seats, in the cargo bay of a ship during reentry and landing on a planet's surface. Several Chitzskies were badly injured, and no one walked onto the surface of the planet without several bad bruises.
To make matters worse, after talking to several of the others at length, he began to get a picture of just how badly they were being scammed. If Drewcila found out what he had done, after she beat him senseless for giving away one of her ships, she was going to laugh herself into a coma at his stupidity.
He should have known better. A lifetime as a salvager and over eight years in the company of the Queen of Grifters should have made him immune to even the best bullshit line. And the "Pride Leader" just didn't have that good a line.
He felt like the universe's biggest idiot.
Utarus' surface was bare and desolate, with a sparse scattering of blue and red geodesic domes—the only structures in sight. There were the beginning of what might eventually be plants, and many Chitzskies doing the work of machines—moving dirt and rocks in buckets or pushing around wheel barrows. The "Planet Coordinator's" speech started with, "This is our home . . ." and as far as Van Gar was concerned, it went downhill from there. They learned that the "Pride Leader," Reverend Pard Jar, hadn't come to the planet with them, and that no one knew his actual name. He was "sacrificing" himself, staying in space, roaming the galaxy. And he would continue to do so until he had gathered up the remnants of his people and brought them all here to fulfill their destiny.
What the hell have I done? I left the only woman I've ever loved and a lifestyle I enjoyed to do what? Come to this godsforsaken wasteland to work myself to death. All to punish Drewcila. Drewcila, who is probably drinking the very best of alcoholic beverages, screwing whatever she likes, and living in the lap of luxury while I bake here, working my ass off to make some scam artist—who's not good enough to wipe the sweat from Drewcila's feet—rich. What the hell was I thinking? . . . That I was sick to death of being that whore's trained boy, that's what. That just once I wanted to be
The guards laughed.
"Have you failed to notice," the largest of the guards, and the one wearing Captain's insignia said, "that there has been a changing of the guards?" He laughed."Your precious salvaging whore demoted the nobility. Made us nothing. Turned our country into a land of garbage diggers. No more. With our help our good king will return the pride of our nation, and we will finally lay waste to the Lockhedes. We will use the wealth the Queen of Filth has filled her pockets and the country's coffers with to build an army that no one can stand against, and topple all who would stand in our way."
Facto shook with the implications."Don't you see, man? You will only destroy the country. There will be great loss of life, and . . ."
"Shut up, old man! Only the peons will die, and we shall regain our true station."
They were shoved roughly into a cell. The door shut with a clang and locked behind them.
Facto looked defiantly at the guard as he spoke."If you allow this lunacy to take place, all that you will have for your trouble is a smoking hole where our once great country stood. I beg of you . . ."
The guards laughed loud enough to drown him out and walked away.
Stasha went to sit on the hard wooden bed, which was the only furniture in the cell, and tried to contain herself.
"My sister is walking into a trap. One that not even she can escape from," Stasha said.
"Margot is still out. My good wife will find a way to warn the queen." As if to mock him, two more guards walked in, dragging Margot between them.
Stasha looked up and sighed."Well, as my sister might say, we're fucked!"
Chapter 3
Van Gar hadn't really thought much about being unstrapped, without the benefit of seats, in the cargo bay of a ship during reentry and landing on a planet's surface. Several Chitzskies were badly injured, and no one walked onto the surface of the planet without several bad bruises.
To make matters worse, after talking to several of the others at length, he began to get a picture of just how badly they were being scammed. If Drewcila found out what he had done, after she beat him senseless for giving away one of her ships, she was going to laugh herself into a coma at his stupidity.
He should have known better. A lifetime as a salvager and over eight years in the company of the Queen of Grifters should have made him immune to even the best bullshit line. And the "Pride Leader" just didn't have that good a line.
He felt like the universe's biggest idiot.
Utarus' surface was bare and desolate, with a sparse scattering of blue and red geodesic domes—the only structures in sight. There were the beginning of what might eventually be plants, and many Chitzskies doing the work of machines—moving dirt and rocks in buckets or pushing around wheel barrows. The "Planet Coordinator's" speech started with, "This is our home . . ." and as far as Van Gar was concerned, it went downhill from there. They learned that the "Pride Leader," Reverend Pard Jar, hadn't come to the planet with them, and that no one knew his actual name. He was "sacrificing" himself, staying in space, roaming the galaxy. And he would continue to do so until he had gathered up the remnants of his people and brought them all here to fulfill their destiny.
What the hell have I done? I left the only woman I've ever loved and a lifestyle I enjoyed to do what? Come to this godsforsaken wasteland to work myself to death. All to punish Drewcila. Drewcila, who is probably drinking the very best of alcoholic beverages, screwing whatever she likes, and living in the lap of luxury while I bake here, working my ass off to make some scam artist—who's not good enough to wipe the sweat from Drewcila's feet—rich. What the hell was I thinking? . . . That I was sick to death of being that whore's trained boy, that's what. That just once I wanted to be
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