Starpilot's Grave: Book Two of Mageworlds Read Online Free PDF Page B

he looked up again at Jessan, his expression had changed from dubious suspicion to active distaste.
    “Nyls Jessan,” he said. “Formerly of the Space Force Medical Service. Lieutenant commander, no less. Cashiered.”
    Jessan bowed. “The same.”
    The ensign’s lip curled. He turned his back on Jessan completely and spoke to Beka. “Captain Portree, I’ll be going over the Pride ’s paperwork with you. Please direct your … associate … to assist my people in a physical inspection of the vessel.”
    “Sure.” Beka waved a hand at Jessan. “You heard the nice man, Doc. Show our friends around.”
    “My pleasure, Captain.”
    Jessan headed off into the depths of the ship with the two enlisted personnel trailing after him, and Beka sat down at the common-room table with the ensign. The young officer ran through the paperwork line by line, consulting frequently with his clipboard.
    “Energy guns dorsal and ventral, shields bow and stem—you carry a lot of firepower for a merch, Captain.”
    Beka raised an eyebrow. “We’re an armed freighter, like the registry says. When you work in the outplanets, you can’t always depend on the Space Force to show up in time.”
    The ensign looked offended. “This isn’t a war zone, Captain Portree. I’m afraid we’ll have to seal your guns for the duration of your stay in the Mageworlds.”
    Beka had been expecting to hear something of the sort; the ’Hammer ’s guns were latest-generation technology, newly upgraded at the shipyards on Gyffer. Nevertheless, she scowled. “What am I supposed to do if somebody over there across the border starts taking potshots at me? Yell for help and hope the fleet comes running?”
    “You’re not in the outplanets any longer, Captain. The Mageworlds aren’t in any shape to give you trouble.” He glanced at his clipboard again. “You don’t have a cargo listed.”
    “I’m going in empty and looking to pick up a cargo once I get there,” Beka said. “Like it says on the form, I’m interested in rare earths and botanicals for the medical-research trade.”
    “Any Republic currency you’ve got has to stay on this side of the border,” said the ensign. “Sorry if it complicates your business dealings, but that’s the law.”
    You’re not the least bit sorry, you little bastard, thought Beka. Well, I’ll fix you. Just watch me do it.
    She emptied the money from her trouser pockets onto the table: five or six decimal-credit pieces, a rumpled ten-credit chit, and a silver Mandeynan mark with a pinpoint blaster hole through the middle.
    “Here you go,” she said. “Maybe Doc has a couple of ten-chits on him, but otherwise that’s the lot.”
    “How do you plan to pay for your cargo, Captain?”
    “I don’t,” she said. “I’m a pilot. Other people pay me.” The ensign looked like he’d bitten down on something sour. He went on with the paperwork, going back and forth between the Pride’s forms and the data appearing on his clipboard.
    Hunting for something else he can call me on, thought Beka. Aha—now he thinks he’s got it.
    “About your crew, Captain. You have only yourself and the copilot listed, but you have berthing space for at least six.”
    Beka shrugged. “The Pride ’s a Libra- class freighter; she was built to run with a full crew. She’s been upgraded a lot since the old days, but nobody ever bothered to take out the extra berthing. We use it for slopover storage mostly, when we’ve got a lot of cargo on board.”
    The ensign made a note on his clipboard. “Understood. But Mageworlds nationals can’t pass through the Net in civilian vessels, so don’t plan on picking up any passengers.”
    “Don’t worry. The damned Mages can rot on their side of the Net for all I care. I’m looking for a cargo that doesn’t talk back.”
    “Wise of you, Captain Portree. We don’t tolerate the other sort.”
    I’ll bet you don’t, Beka thought, as the ensign continued his way through the stack of