Galactic Gale

Chapter Seven

Criminals

Crossing her arms, Meldrom fastened her lips together to stop herself from saying something she would later regret. It seemed the rest of mismatched group was doing the same. Only Don and his close friend Shee dared to share their opinions on what their next moves should be.

"The test was successful," Shee said. She opted to speak in the common tongue, much to Meldrom's frustration. While she paced the floor, Shee pointed a short crimson finger in Meldrom's direction. "You won't have known this, because you were late."

"There were troubles," Don countered before Meldrom could snap her own response.

"There shouldn't have been any."

This time Meldrom stood. Her metal stool scraped over the gridded floor of the old warehouse. "The Celestial Watch blocked our path. I had no choice but to try and get around their blockade of the Ffeshin route. Going around caused some ships to flag us."

Don nodded solemnly. "Yes. We only had the choice of conflict." He turned to Shee and muttered something in another language so the rest of the group could not overhear. The pair stayed locked in conversation for longer than Meldrom cared to listen. She turned back to her stool and dropped down.

Her company consisted of low-quality guns for hire. Many of the aliens around her had barely used their polished weapons for anything other than display. The armour they wore looked too soft to be of use, and their lack of scars warned Meldrom they were yet to experience a real fight. She refused to consider what would happen if the Watch or anyone else came barging through the twin doors at the other end of the room.

An hour or so before she and the others had landed on the outpost, Shee and some of the more frightening looking members of their group had claimed the warehouse. It was a shabby and poorly built construction, but if it allowed them a private place to plot their next moves, Meldrom was willing to forgive the stench of the cheap building materials.

When she and Don had arrived at the original meet point with their ship repaired, there had been nothing to see but Shee and a few lesser vessels that had been late to escape with the rest of the fleet. Meldrom had been disappointed, but she had not been expecting to find the full party after their delays.

The test of the fleet's upgraded weapon had been successful. That was what mattered. Meldrom required no further proof of Shee's claim. The fleet would not have disbanded so quickly had things gone south, and it was likely a new meeting point would have been organised for another test if one was needed. As it was, with Shee's people trying to communicate with the fleet, it was clear their leader was on the run from the scene of a crime.

"Any contact?" Don asked the burly man sitting with a pair of chunky earphones strapped to his head.

The stranger was too focused on whatever he was listening to and Don's question went unanswered.

"I doubt they're going to be picking up any calls." Meldrom shook her head. "We can't hope to hear from them soon. It'd be best if we guessed the direction they went in and scouted until we found something. Or wait for them to call us." She glanced around the warehouse. "Not here. We'd have to find somewhere more practical. Possibly Ramerela."

"We're not going near Ramerela." Shee narrowed her eyes and rounded on Meldrom. "And you should never have landed there. We don't communicate with the kind of beings who find themselves in that city."

"Criminals?" Meldrom snorted.

"We had little choice," Don said. He stepped forward and held up his hands. His decision to switch to the Demar's tongue did not go unnoticed by Meldrom, but it failed to settle the anger blazing within her. As much as she agreed with what Shee and the rest of her companions were working towards, Meldrom had failed to find any of them to her liking. For a group of outcasts, they were a snobbish bunch.