Sin Beyond Redemption: Chapter 03

STUNNED SILENCE ENGULFED them, as if Zai’al’s words had blown all the air out of the room, leaving nothing behind for sound to travel through.

Senecíní, by all accounts, was endemic to Drakirú. It had never been discovered anywhere else in the galaxy. Prospectors had certainly looked. The crystal was incredibly valuable and hotly desired by all. Once properly refined, the energy encased within allowed ships to travel effortlessly through the galaxy along cosmic threads. Zai’al didn’t understand the specifics of the science, just that the crystals had perceptive energy that could “listen” to the tapestry of the cosmos to find the shortest viable thread to use. Traveling via threading was many times faster than other methods of FTL propulsion, making årdrakin stardrives coveted among all the space-faring races… and because the crystal only existed on Drakirú, the empire controlled the availability of the technology. The majority of their interstellar economy relied on the monopoly.

But no, Zai’al knew, it wasn’t just that. What was truly disturbing was that the alien had the crystals at all. The senecíní on the table represented tremendous danger. Every årdrakin knew the crystal was volatile in its raw state. Drakirú was riddled with the substance, and parents taught their hatchlings to avoid touching the crystal, or to handle it with utmost delicacy if touching couldn’t be avoided. In practice, accidental detonations were rare… but not unheard of. Depending on its size and quality, senecíní needed to experience a certain amount of kinetic energy transfer, or, alternatively, damage, to trigger an explosion. Still, it didn’t change the fact that each crystal sitting on the skarastaja’s table was a small bomb. Did the skarastaja know that? Senecíní bombs were frighteningly devastating weapons, but årdrakin sensibilities had banned them long ago. And the skarastaja still called the årdrakin skydemons…

Kohakú gingerly fingered the pendant that Zai’al held, then looked at the table, and bit her lower lip before asking, “How much more of this do you have?”

“Oh,” the skarastaja said. “You want for family? For friends? Skarastaja can make more, much more!” He swiveled to reach into the dark recesses of the tent, where a dirty cloth covered a small crate. Its slats scraped on the floor as he pulled it over. “You pick shinies you like best, and skarastaja will make.” He lifted the cloth, revealing the crate to be full of small senecíní crystals, some with bits of rock and clay still stuck to them.

Looking at the crate, Zai’al felt sick to her stomach. She leaned close to Kohakú and whispered, “He said he got these from his homeworld.”

The grandmaster’s green eyes widened.

“Buy it,” she said, turning to Vikram, while her hand grasped at Zai’al’s arm. “All of it, including the crate.”

“Yes, Grandmaster.”

Kohakú tugged Zai’al aside. “We have to leave, now. Put the jewelry in the crate and cover it as best you can. Take Vikram and head to the Underdecks exit. Don’t let anyone see what you’re carrying, and don’t act like anything is amiss. I just need a moment with Mazaul.”

Zai’al nodded and did as she was told. The skarastaja beamed from one furry ear to the other as Vikram negotiated a price and then handed over a pouch hanging heavy with hard currency. However much was inside, Zai’al knew the skarastaja was still being short-changed. The value of the crystals, even though they were small, was astronomical.

They retraced their steps to the exit. Zai’al kept hold of the crate while Vikram showed their IDs to the guards. Moments later, Kohakú appeared, her arms laden with bolts of silk. Vikram dismissed his halberd to take them from her, and the trio hastily left the Underdecks, only to be forced to wait, tense, on the empty train platform.

“What will we do now?” Zai’al asked quietly, as if afraid to be overheard even though they were alone.

“Return to the ship,” Kohakú said. “When we get there, stow the crate carefully in my quarters with the silk. Do not tell anyone what we have learned, or what’s in the crate.”

“But surely we should alert the së’nåzal?” Vikram asked. “He should know we’re bringing unrefined crystals aboard.”

Kohakú shook her head. “No. If he finds out, he’ll have to make a report, and then his superior will have to make a report, and so on up the chain, and soon enough we’ll have a whole fleet of ships barging in on the skarastaja homeworld, making a mess of things.” She frowned. “Årdra knows we don’t need more problems with the skarastaja. Maintaining the Reclusion is bad enough. No, this discovery must reach the aelkôn’s ears quietly. We will return to the homeworld immediately.” She laid a cautionary hand on Zai’al’s and Vikram’s arms. “Don’t make any log entries, don’t write it down, don’t say anything to anyone about this. We just can’t take the risk of word getting out prematurely.”

Vikram nodded solemnly. Zai’al followed suit, the crate still balanced carefully in her hands.

When the train pulled in and they boarded, Zai’al thought to cloak her wings around her body to shield the crate from prying eyes, but the grandmaster caught her eye and shook her head slightly as Zai’al’s dusky blue wings slithered forward.

Wouldn’t it be better if no one could see? Zai’al wondered, but then Kohakú’s words came back to her: Don’t act like anything is amiss. The other passengers shouldn’t think there was anything unusual about what Zai’al was carrying. Hiding the crate from view would only make them wonder what was special about its contents. If she simply carried it the way Vikram carried the silk, as if the crate was ordinary, no one would be likely to spare a second glance.

Or so Zai’al hoped. Shifting lightly on her feet, she worked her fingers into better positions. The longer she held the crate, the heavier it seemed to get, and her palms were becoming sweaty.

Don’t drop it, don’t drop it, don’t drop it… She bit her lip. How much kinetic force would be required to detonate these crystals? They had to be raw, as the skarastaja would be unlikely to know how to properly refine and stabilize their energy. If one went off, it would initiate a chain reaction with all the others, turning dozens of small bombs into one big one.

The train left the terminal, humming quietly as it soared between Jita’s towers, taking them back to terminal one.

How long had the skarastaja been down there? Zai’al wondered. How many people were walking around with explosive jewelry hanging from their necks? Even if the skarastaja had any kind of records about who had purchased from him in the past, they’d be unlikely to find those people now. What would happen if someone else recognized the crystal for what it really was, before the årdrakin could act?

That skarastaja could use the money we paid him to smuggle out even more senecíní from his homeworld, and continue selling it. If he has any wits about him at all, he’ll realize there’s something special about it, since we took all of it off his hands like that. Maybe we should have left it with him… She sighed. No, that wouldn’t do either. Then even more people might have bought from him. At least, for now, the chances of anyone else on Jita finding out about this are minimized.

The train arrived at the terminal one platform. They exited with throngs of other people, and Zai’al’s anxiety ratcheted up. They had to navigate the crushing crowds of the promenade to get back to their ship’s berth. It was imperative that she avoid being jostled or have anyone knock the crate from her hands.

“Let’s trade,” Vikram said, offering her the bolts of silk.

“It won’t matter,” Zai’al murmured, even though she was grateful to give up the crate.

He smiled wryly. “At least I have armor on.”

That won’t matter, either, she thought. If the senecíní were to explode, they’d be lucky if the whole of Jita survived.

Thankfully, the journey back to their ship was uneventful. Stationside time was slipping into evening, so the crowds on the promenade had thinned out enough to allow the trio to navigate their way safely.

“Entity!” Kohakú called out as they boarded. “Alert the së’nåzal. We are leaving.”