Jason Halstead - Voidhawk

“That be a pretty story, boy-o! Good enough to earn you a drink!”

“I don’t need a drink, Kragor. I need you!” The man retorted. He looked at his empty beer stein before relenting, “Okay, I seem to be needing a drink as well.”

Kragor, a dwarf in his prime, guffawed and reached over the bar to slap Dexter on the shoulder. He swept away the ale stein and returned it a moment later with a fresh head of foam. “You mean to say you hauled a ghost ship — a trader at that — with one of them Federation Gnats? Might be you’ve spent too much time in the void.”

“Might be,” Dexter admitted, “but I did it! I hid it good too… in the Playground. Fouled my air up, but I made it back.”

Kragor raised an eyebrow and made a noncommittal noise in his throat that Dexter took to be encouragement.

“It’s been dead to the void for a long time,” Dexter said after a fresh drink. “And it’s been through a lot as well, but she’s still got some good bones to her.”

Kragor chuckled. “What about the helm, boy-o? Can she still be sailed through the void?”

Dexter nodded. “Aye, it can. Well the sails and the ship’ve got no power to ‘em now, been floating for a while. But I sat myself in it and felt the link.”

Kragor stroked his beard. “It have a name, this ghost ship?”

Dexter nodded again. “Hawk’s Talons.”

Kragor snorted. “What kind of name is that? Bah!”

Another patron down the bar signaled Kragor. The dwarf waved back at him to show he would be there in a moment. “I’ll admit you be a fine pilot, Dex, but you’ve had some damn fool schemes before about getting a ship o’ your own. Might be you should just stick with the Fed Navy and fly their scout ships.”

Dexter glared at him, feeling stung. He looked past the dwarf and saw the open window into the kitchen, where Kragor’s wife, Jodyne, worked to whip up her latest culinary delights. Kragor followed Dexter’s gaze, turning around to look at his wife. She was busy and did not notice their attention.

“Aye, lad, a time comes to us all for settling down,” Kragor said, as much as admitting he had recently been on the receiving end of one of Jodyne’s lectures. He waved at the patron who was signaling him again, begging another moment while the barkeep talked with his friend.

“Kragor, you’ve been with me on every one of those foolish schemes; don’t you be going soft on me now. You’re not that old!” Dexter pleaded.

Kragor harrumphed. “Not that old? Boy I’ve seen seventy six turns of the year. I’m three times your elder!”

Dexter shrugged. “You were hiding behind your mother’s skirts until you were older than me!”

Kragor chuckled, then caught himself. Dwarves did live longer than humans, but they grew up slower as well. Ironic, considering a fully grown dwarf was two thirds the height of a human. It was one of the many mysteries of the void that only the Gods knew the answer to.

“Just come with me tomorrow when I fly out on my patrol. You can stow away on my Gnat and check it out,” Dexter leaned closer.

The customer waved again, showing a face filled with irritation. Kragor turned and snapped, “Just a damned minute!”

The customer’s face paled at the surly dwarf’s words, but his lips also clamped shut. Kragor turned back to Dexter but saw a man emerging from a doorway behind him. “Uh oh,” Kragor reached for an empty mug and a towel.

“Dexter Silvercloud, whose copper are you drinking on today?” The owner of the inn came up behind the two. He clapped a hand on Dexter’s shoulder.

“Master Twinver,” Dexter acknowledged. He looked at Kragor and winked, forcing a soft groan from the dwarf. “With ale the quality of yours, I’d be hard pressed to spend my hard earned copper on it.”

The innkeeper smirked at Dexer’s words, but the smile faded as he realized the navy pilot’s words were instead mocking him. He flushed and he turned to Kragor.

“Out with you both! I’ve given you one chance too many, Kragor, and only for love of your wife’s cooking! Why she married a petty thief and a fool such as you is beyond me! Be gone with you and never step foot in here again!”

The larger man yanked on Dexter’s shirt, forcing him to stand or be pulled to the floor. Off balance, he was easy to redirect towards the door. Kragor still stood behind the bar, a little surprised by the sudden exchange. The owner of the tavern turned back to him and pointed towards the door, teeth clenched.

Kragor turned to look back over his shoulder, fearful of what he might see. Sure enough, Jodyne glared at him from the kitchen, a knife in her hand. Kragor gulped and tossed his rag on the bar, then hopped off the narrow ramp he’d built behind it to allow him to stand at a respectable height. He hurried around to join Dexter at the door then turned, still able to see through the open window to the kitchen.

“Out!” Master Twinver shouted.

Kragor opened his mouth, his eyes met Jodyne’s and hers narrowed. He grabbed Dexter and pulled him through the door before the large kitchen knife slammed into it.

Outside the Lost Sailor tavern Dexter turned to Kragor and grinned. “What say you, want to look at a boat?”

Kragor looked back at the door and sighed. “Damn you, Dex,” he said, though his heart was not really in the curse. “Have you any idea what I’m to do to get back in Jodyne’s graces?”

“How about coming back for her and telling her you’re the first mate of a private ship?”

Kragor stared at Dexter until time enough had passed to pour and drain a flagon of ale. Unable to resist, he grinned. “Sure enough I’m as daft as you, my boy.”

“You’ll come check it out with me?” Dexter asked again, daring to hope he’d won his friend over.

“Aye, I’ll do it,” Kragor’s grin faded as another facet of his new reality came to him. “But I need a place to sleep for a few days.”

A few times in the past Dexter and Kragor, bound for some shady business opportunity, had needed to enter the Federation shipyards. To aid in their endeavors Dexter had acquired an extra uniform and had it tailored to fit the dwarf. Kragor could hardly escape close inspection, but a few well placed bribes would turn the right heads at the right time.

Smuggling Kragor onto his scout ship was something altogether new. Dexter thought long and hard on it and realized there was no way he could get the dwarf to the docks and on to a ship. Kragor could pass for a short human at a distance. Up close it was impossible to pass him off; The Federation only employed humans.

Instead Kragor made his way to the underside of the asteroid known as Logan’s Haven, which was also the name of the original town that had sprung up. Once a pirate retreat, it had grown and then been taken over by the Federation. Now the town was called New Haven, and was one of the outer strongholds of the Federation. Away from the sun lay pirates, slavers, more asteroid belts similar to The Playground — and rumors of entire fleets of uncharted worlds, unrecognized races, and worse. Sunward and beyond, on the other side of Federation space, lay the vast reaches of the void controlled by the Elven Empire.

Even with so many far reaching hands, one could travel for weeks in any direction and see neither ship nor rock, let alone planet. The planets of the system were left on their own. Only dirthuggers lived on them and seldom was any profitable trade to be done with them. Each planet was fixed in place, rotating about its own axis to provide a day and night for the inhabitants — this made charting courses and establishing empires easy to do, but the great distances made communication and logistics a nightmare.