Part 2: Liam

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"That will be 24 credits, sir," said the kiosk vendor. He smiled, pushing forward his card reader for payment.

"You take cat bucks?" Liam reached into his wallet. The vendor's smile wilted as he gave a disappointed nod.

"We accept EC credits, and Felarn paper money." The vendor leaned forward, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "I have to charge you market value, nearly double the cost."

"Plus, you have to visit a money changer to convert it to credits. You vendors never add that part." Liam counted 49 Felarns and slapped them into the man's hand.

"Thank you for your patronage, sir."

"Thanks for the smokes."

Liam took the pack of 'Uncle P's Thin Cigars' and left the kiosk to its grumbling merchant. Joining the river of people filing past, he swam its meandering to the lift. Liam waited patiently until his queue was called then packed into the elevator with thirty people and a maintenance construct. The composition of passengers was wide and diverse. Humans, Canamarians, Felarnians, Raiel, even a Xnea Xnarn.

His brother, Lance, would have called it a menagerie. Liam chuckled. He missed Lance.

Taking out a cigar, he savored the aroma before putting it between his lips. He focused on the feel of the brown leaves, the smell of the carnibus within. Dark thoughts threatened to eat away at the barriers carefully crafted by his therapist. Enjoying the taste of the cigar, and tried to forget his brother for a moment.

"Sir, you can't smoke in here."

Liam jolted out of his musings. A Xnea Xnarn man stared at him, his neck feathers ruffled, his avian eyes concerned.

"Did you hear me, Sir? You can't smoke that in here."

It wasn't the birdman, but the human woman beside him that had a problem with his cheroot.

"I won't light it," Liam assured her, the cigar bobbing up and down without falling from his lips.

She rolled her eyes and turned away. The Xnea continued to stare.

"We going to have a problem, buddy?"

"No," squawked the alien. "Sorry for intruding."

Liam knew the owl faced man didn't mean to be intrusive. Xnea Xnarn stared, it was who they were. It was the invasion of his personal thoughts that bothered him. The Xnea were telepaths, and in such close quarters one couldn't expect them to keep to themselves.

Liam concentrated on pushing out any unwanted scrying. He didn't have any psychic ability to speak of, but he'd received training from a renowned Psi-Therapist. The mental exercises were invaluable in keeping the darkness at bay, and fending off nosy telepaths.

He focused on the floor numbers as they sped by. One hundred floors until they reached the main deck. Why were the cigars and other creature comforts always kept at the bottom floors of space stations? It always made getting his fix an adventure.

The lights of the lift dimmed and a low-face appeared on the ceiling. A blockish orange face with thin lips and suspicious eyes glared into Liam's corner, a thick eyebrow raised.

"Gridport regulations restrict smoking to the port's twenty mezzanines," stated the AI, his voice distorted by speakers in need of repair. "Smoking is prohibited within each of the gridport's 151 elevators."

"I'm not going to smoke it," Liam barked. He spoke to the AI, but his eyes were on the woman watching him from behind her datapad.

The low-face frowned, but vanished. The lights brightened and lift slowed as it reached the main level. The elevator car chimed as it finally came to a halt. The doors opened onto the packed main floor of Trappist Station.

Over a hundred thousand citizens of The Combine hurried to ships making the jump to similar ports scattered across known space, or ships headed for destinations within Grid 5-C. The Red Dwarf Trappist-1 could be seen through the massive view ports as the space station made its lazy orbit of the system.

Liam filed out of the lift with the other riders, and a new queue boarded bound for the lower levels. Their group dispersed on their own journeys through the universe, but the nosy woman continued to follow Liam. The maintenance construct bumped Liam, knocking the cigar from his hand. Hastily apologizing, the machine wasted no time collecting the cheroot from the floor.

"Remember, sir, smoking is ONLY permitted on the mezzanine floors," the robot said as it crumbled the cigar and dropped it into a receptacle.

"Remember your grandfather was a toaster, pal." Liam emphasized his insult with a flip of his finger, an ancient human insult his grandfather taught him as a child.

The woman gasped.

"Don't let me start on you, lady!"

Wide eyed, she scurried off to disappear in the massive crowd. Liam shook his head. He couldn't stand busy bodies.

After studying the signs, he made his way through the ever-flowing stream of travelers. The timer in the corner of his optic lens said he still had three hours before his departure time. With plenty of time to kill, Liam searched for a place to enjoy his Uncle P.

Mezzanine F was relatively empty compared to the main floor. Liam walked down a long observation hall spanning the two hundred feet between the secondary bulkheads for terminals S and T. Individuals relaxed in floating chairs, and enjoyed the view of the stars while they made audio/visual transmissions, watched news feeds from across the universe, or smoked their beloved cigars. Monitors hung from the ceiling at regular intervals displaying popular Wide-net entertainment content, news reports, and sports broadcast. A wide mini-kiosk skittered down the hall selling treats and refreshments. Liam spewed a choice epithet when he noticed the construct sold Uncle P's, his brand of choice.

His trip to the bowels of the station had been unnecessary. The price of being picky.

Liam found a secluded seat beside a damaged sheet of viewport glass. His view of the incoming and outgoing ships was obscured, but Liam didn't mind. He just wanted a chance to smoke one of his cigars before his trip. Five seats down, A monitor showed cleanup crews at the scene of the terror attack a few weeks earlier which nearly claimed the life of The EC CEO. He lit his cigar and pointed at the screen.

He blinked for a three count and lowered his thumb like the firing pin of a flintlock pistol from the 17th century. When he opened his eyes his vision was overlaid with the ongoing news report. It wasn't cutting edge technology like some of the gridports closer to Earth Prime, but Trappist Station was merely a pit stop. Biting down to activate the audio sensor embedded in his right rear molar, he took a puff of the cheroot.

... fifty-seven dead, two hundred and nineteen wounded. The casualties might have been higher if not for the efforts of the building AI across the roadway, and war constructs attached to The CEO's security detail. The Church of Humanity has claimed responsibility for this attack, but investigators say evidence points to The Colonial War Front. We will provide more information when it becomes available.

The scene changed to a view of a snowy cliff face. A massive barrel-chested Canamarian stood shirtless in the snow, armed with a Felarnian spear. Standing opposite was a shirtless Felarnian brandishing a Canamar Battleaxe.

The time has come to settle the old grudge. BLOOD AND FUR 3! Coming soon!

Liam laughed and took a long pull of his cigar. blinking three times in quick succession, he severed his connection to the monitor. The movie was going to be terrible. The director couldn't even be bothered to get the weapons right. Felarnians preferred swords in single combat, and a Canamarian Knight would have fought barehanded over using his most hated enemy's weapon. It was all basic knowledge, and clearly lazy film making. Liam shook his head and scanned the monitors for something more interesting.

The datapad in his pocket vibrated.

INCOMING PEER TO PEER BROADCAST scrolled across his optics. Liam tapped his pad and blinked till the count of three. A figure overlapped his view of the mezzanine, obscured by video filters. The figure sat in a dimly lit room, backdropped against a bare wall. Liam activated the minor privacy feature on his datapad, obscuring his lips and the sound of his voice. Anyone passing would hear buzzing, and be unable to read his lips.

"I assume all is as planned, Spider."

Liam only knew him as the Djinn, an ancient creature that can grant wishes. An interesting moniker for his mysterious benefactor.

"So far, so good," Liam responded.

"The funds were sufficient?"

"More than sufficient. The tickets have been purchased, just waiting for the transport to signal for boarding."

"Excellent. I am transferring half of the agreed upon fee into your account as we speak. You will receive the other half when the target reaches her destination."

"Seems fair. I checked the posted manifest, and didn't see her name. Are you sure she'll be aboard?"

"Trust me."

Liam trusted The Djinn as long as the credits were flowing. He knew a man who would hire pirates to do his dirty work had to be watched carefully, and for all intents and purposes Liam and his colleagues were pirates.

"Why would the CEO of the Earth Conglomerate take an unescorted civilian transport? Seems too foolhardy."

"The board of directors is scared. An attack on The CEO is an attack on all of them. They have formally requested the CEO stay on Earth Prime, but Angelique Farnsworth is not one to do as she's told. She has business meetings on Acquisition deemed top priority by her administration team. It was suggested that she take an unconditional approach to reaching her destination."

"Let me guess, you know someone that hears things?"

"I know a great deal of people. They hear a great many things."

Liam noted the coldness in the Djinn's tone.

"I'll keep that in mind if I'm ever in need of help."

"Help is a very expensive business."

"So true, so true."

"Enjoy your cigar, Spider. Good luck."

"Spider, moving out."

Three quick blinks and the connection was canceled. His team had an interesting task before them. They needed to protect the most powerful human in the galaxy as she traversed one of the most remote grids of EC space, all without her knowledge. Liam liked a challenge, but he liked The Djinn's money even more. He enjoyed his Uncle P, and smoked another one for the road.

When Asian Seas Transit announced the boarding of the civilian transport Singapore, Liam joined the queue behind a quartet of Raiel. The tall thin gray aliens hummed to one another excitedly. Liam looked up at them, noting they were two pairs marking them as siblings or mates. The Raiel always traveled in family pairs.

When he reached the security gate, Liam provided his credentials and studied the Singapore through the viewport glass. He waited patiently while a steward scanned his pass. He didn't grow antsy until the series 4 construct ran his credentials for a third time. She claimed his pass was a counterfeit, which it was, and ultimately called gridport security.

Liam swore the card worked just fine when he left Earth Prime and asked to speak to a manager. With an apology and the assurance the faulty steward would receive maintenance, A human assistant manager settled the issue. Liam accepted the apology and the free meal chip graciously. He marveled at the measures the service industry would go through to ensure positive ratings from customers.

Liam bunked down in his cabin with no more disruptions. He had over thirty warrants waiting for him back in The Milky Way, and hadn't set foot past an EC scanner in five galactic standard years.

If there was going to be trouble aboard the Singapore it would come after they left port and the security battalion patrolling the sector. The real work would begin once the ship jumped grids. Jump preparations usually took two hours, which was plenty of time for a nice nap. Stowing his bags in the compartment beneath his single bed, Liam kicked off his boots and laid down. The bed was basic foam, very 20th century. It wouldn't be the worst place he'd slept.

The lights dimmed as power was routed to the ship's inertial dampeners. The bridge crew would be sharing calculations with the port authority, and shipboard AI to ensure the Singapore and the port were operating on the same trajectory formula. Any miscalculation would reduce the ship to atoms and toss those atoms across the expanse of space. It was a horrible way to go, he thought as he rested his head and closed his eyes.

If he relaxed enough, he could hear the blood flowing through his veins. If he relaxed a bit more, he could detect the subtle flow of energy between the fuel cells and the habitat purifier above his bed. If he allowed himself to fully unwind, he could hear the entire ship and the void beyond. It was during those moments, thoughts of Lance filled his mind.

A knock at the door woke Liam from his musings. He opened his eyes, his optics scanning the room for environmental data, and signs of physical threat. He blinked away the function. The lighting in his room was still dim which meant they were still docked at the gridport. Liam sat up and went to the door, pausing to grab the combat knife in his boot. He didn't expect violence, but caution was always the best course.

Liam gave the door a gentle tap, and a six inch square section became transparent. The hall beyond was an orange hue of emergency lighting. Standing at the door was a Felarnian woman. She looked directly into the door sensor.

"It's cold out here." She put her hand on her hip in an impatient and very human display.

Liam opened the door and a gust of cold air blew into his room. She followed quickly and shut the portal. The woman stood eye to eye with Liam, making her six feet even. Tall for a human woman, but short for a felarnian. She wore a thin strapped light weight top and a pair of boxer briefs. Barefooted, there was no wonder she was cold. Liam admired the pattern of midnight blue stripes running across her ginger colored fur, so like an Earth tiger yet not. Her people's resemblance to anthropomorphic cats had caused much debate among scientists and bar stool philosophers for decades. Liam had only seen a tiger in VR documentaries, but he'd spent a lot of time with felarnians during his time in the EC military.

"You can stop staring at me, Liam. One of us is bound to start blushing," she said.

"If you're going to walk around here in your underwear, what do you expect?" he asked as he tapped the door again to lock it. "You don't intend to be in your underwear the entire trip do you?"

"Maybe... maybe not. I could go commando."

"I'm getting you a spray bottle full of water."

"Very funny. You humans and your fear of nudity is only eclipsed by your obsession with it. I've studied thoroughly and I still can't make heads or tails of it." She emphasized her words by turning and shaking her rear.

Liam felt his cheeks darken.

"You don't actually have a tail, you know." He crossed the room and returned the blade to his inner boot sheath.

"You wish."

"Whatever. What are you doing here, Patricia?"

"Maybe I just came to see you." She typed a few lines into her datapad, and the environmental systems began to warm the room. "Can't I miss you?"

"Sure you can, but you wouldn't come across the hall for that. What's going on?"

"Scott is in a mood, and I needed to get away."

"Now that makes more sense."

Liam pointed at the reclining chair across from the door and climbed back into bed. He yawned, his body acknowledging what he refused to see. He was tired. Liam's life had become an unending cycle of running, fighting, and hiding. Resting was low on his list of priorities. He closed his eyes, and listened to the hum of the vents warming the air.

He stiffened when the foam cushion adjusted to added weight on the bed.

"There isn't a lot of room in that chair," Patricia said as she flung her arm and leg over him.

"There isn't a lot of room on this bed either."

"At least it's comfortable." She purred, and played with his beard. Before he knew it she was fast asleep.

Their relationship was a platonic one born of shared experiences, but she was a woman and he was a man. He couldn't help but react to the feel of her against him. Patricia was warmth and family, something Liam had been missing since he lost his brother. He closed his eyes and listened to her breathe until he too fell asleep. He dreamed of caged tigers and belly dancers.

A/N: A soldier of fortune hired to protect from the shadows. Liam is quite the character. He has a past and he's ready for what the future holds. Are you? What do you think so far? Hit that star and leave your comments. Thanks for reading.

L.

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