“The enforcers are
coming!” The message flashed through the under-slum like lightening. Roland
stepped into the passage way. Underworlders were running in all directions,
clearing the signs of anything illegal. Any vice you care to name, and some you
might not, could be found in these vast secret worlds below decks. Yet Roland
knew there was good here too. Born on one of the enormous void ships, he grew
up amongst these people. Their only real crime was eking a living as best they
could. He could see some of them taking up hidden positions. For every one he
could see, there would be two more he couldn’t. If the enforcers wanted trouble
they would get it.
The huge airtight door slowly opened to reveal ten men in
arbites uniforms. Their leader announced “we are looking for Roland Aesteban”.
For a moment panic struck him, but he quickly recovered. He had done nothing
wrong recently, certainly nothing likely to require a full squad of men to come
looking for him. This was something more. He stepped towards them. “What is the trouble officers?”
From the centre of the group, a previously hidden man in a
dark blue robe spoke. “Are you Roland Aesteban?”
Roland stopped. He surreptitiously glanced to his side to
reassure himself his comrades were still there. Could this be a setup? Had one
of the rival clans turned him in for something? “And if I am?” he replied.
“Stop wasting my time boy. If you are not Roland Aesteban
take me to him immediately.” The tone was not one of menace, but of impatience.
This was no enforcer.
“Yes, I am Roland.”
The robed man stepped from amongst the enforcers. “I am
Lucien. I have been sent to deliver this to you.” He handed Roland a data
slate. “Well read it boy”. After a moment he added “You can read can’t you?”
“Yes, I can read thank you” Roland grumbled as he activated
the slate.
The council of the
noble house of Aesteban has selected you to inherit a recently relinquished Imperial
Warrant of Trade. You are to accompany the bearer immediately. Your ship awaits
you. Congratulations Lord Captain.
“Do you accept?” Lucien pushed.
“And if I don’t?”
“If you accept, come with me now. If not...” Lucien
shrugged.
Thoughts raced through his mind. His mother had always told
him there were related to the mighty house of Aesteban, and he had read a great
deal about their history in what archives he could find. Obviously, this was a
chance to escape this life, but to what? Yet, he had no real ties here. He had
lived on countless ships and space stations and both his parents had died many
years ago on some other ship. Life was often short in the underworld.
“You have five
minutes to collect your belongings and make your farewells. I can wait no
longer than that.”
“I will only need one”, he said, turning and re-entering his
hab. He grabbed a small bag, threw in a data slate, a knife and the few thrones
had had stashed away. As he turned to leave, his neighbour Jak entered. “What
is going on? Is everything ok?”
“Yep. It’s just time to move on again. Sell whatever you can
here and keep the credits.” He walked out and did not look back.