Swinging Pendulum

The interior of the dank metal hull always had the same smell. It was a bit cramped, and the frame creaked with a language all its own, but it was hers and that’s all that mattered. That's all that ever mattered. It, and everything inside, was hers. The stars could be seen out the viewport as the ship drifted lazily on its course. She liked this. Some days, when things were quiet, she'd put the auto-course correction on and let the ship practically fly itself.

A space on the command console had been worn down to raw metal. The culprits were her heavy combat boots, which were currently sitting in their designated place. The brown glass bottles were stacked together on the floor, next to a few old wrappers and paper bags. There wasn't a care in the galaxy for her. Not until the starcomms phone rang and jolted her out of her daydreaming.

She fell out of her seat. The remains of her late-night rations scattered with the sudden meeting of her body and the floor. She swore loudly and stood, dusting herself off. Instead of picking up the receiver, she punched a few buttons on the console to put the call onto the screen.

A small window was displayed on the glass in front of her. The call window came up, but there was no image of the caller, only an error icon. Typical. I always get the mysterious ones. She thought to herself.

"Is this Victoria Savage?" A voice that sounded like it was reading a script for the first time said,

"This is Commander Savage. Who's asking?"

"We are...in need of the services of you and your outfit."

"I'm not taking jobs yet. Mercenary work is out of season. Fight your own independence war."

"We have no fight."

Victoria raised her eyebrow. "No fight...?"

"Not for us."

"I don't do consultations cheaply either. Or training. Or smuggling. Actually, I don't do smuggling at all anymore."

"We know. Your incident on the planet Tarin III put you out of that business."

"How do you know about that?"

"Such rumors always spread fast."

Victoria regretted asking now, knowing the answer herself already. "So then, what's the job?"

"A relic."

"Huh...?"

"An artifact."

"A scavenger hunt?"

"No. We know where it is."

Something in the back of her head made tiny little whispers of doubt in her mind.

"And you want me to go get it."

"That is correct, Commander."

"Well," Victoria said as she sat back into her pilot seat, "that makes things easier. So what's got you needing my services then?"

"We are not warriors. You, and your...company...are. We need combat expertise to retrieve the artifact. You possess such skills."

"I don't come cheap."

"But you do have quite the track record. Consider our offer as follows. Two hundred thousand credits."

Victoria fought to keep her eyes, or rather 'eye,' from widening. A good business transaction relied on not letting the other party see emotions.

"Two hundred thousand..."

"Yes."

"This is a very important piece for you."

"It is. We need it, no matter the circumstances."

Victoria kicked her feet up and did the mental math. Two hundred thousand credits could get her ship fueled up, cleaned up, tuned up, and still leave enough left over for upgrades or new toys. Toys...Victoria thought about that. Her rifles were getting beat up and in dire need of some love. But as sweet as it was, there was still that voice of doubt. And yet…

"Half now and half when it's done."

"25% now and the rest when it is received."

"No dice. I need to be able to top off in case I'm not anywhere near where this artifact is."

"33% now. That is our final offer."

"Fine." Victoria said, typing away at the console. "Send it to this account. Send over all the information on this artifact and its location and I'll give you a time table."

"It's a pleasure to do business with you."

The call ended abruptly before Victoria could ask any more questions. A small machine began to hum and crank as a piece of paper jutted out of it. The paper continued out and onto the rest of the console as it filtered the data into print. When it was done, it made a soft bell noise.

Victoria tore the sheet off at the perforated line and then ripped through all the subsequent lines down. There were over a dozen pages that were mainly about the destination planet, but that was fine. The more information she received, the better she could prepare for the job. But as she flipped through the pages, skimming the words, she suddenly realized that the old adage might be right.

"If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is."

The door to the pilot cabin opened. Victoria stepped out and ran her hand through her long, wild, crimson hair. Her cat ears flickered and her tail swished lazily behind her. She rolled her muscular shoulders and yawned.

"I'm gonna need help with this one." She said

Victoria went to the bathroom and checked her bloodshot eye. The violet iris had long since lost its gleam. Her freckled face was marred with a scar that went down her left eye, which she had lost. A black eyepatch kept it hidden from stares.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Vicky..." She said to her reflection.

Victoria left the bathroom and jumped out of her skin. Her maid was standing right outside.

"Fuck!"

"Language, Commander."

"Sorry, Mitsuri. You always have a nasty habit of sneaking up on me."

"A maid's job is best done quietly and without notice."

"Right...right..."

Victoria watched the girl leave. Her bushy fox tail and fluffy ears were indicative of her species. It also gave her an idea. She headed back into the pilot's cabin and punched numbers into the console. The screen produced another call window.

She stood there with her arms crossed over her chest. Her tank top did little to hide the toned muscles of her abs, and accentuated her biceps. A tattoo of a skull being impaled by a dagger with wings adorned her left shoulder. It was the emblem of their outfit. Their official name was Independent Frontier Interests.

Victoria commanded some of the hardest men and women in this side of the galaxy. From all walks of life and all manner of species, they fought with her for one reason and one reason only: money. Well, maybe not just money, but it was definitely the main reason. But they all listened to her and had total trust in her ability, which gave them an almost supernatural cohesion. Because of that, her outfit earned the nickname "Savage's Strays". It was only spoken in the places that mattered, like bars and gambling dens.

But her teams were all out on contracts at the moment. That left only one option left. The call went through. Victoria stared at the screen as she saw the image of a very oriental ceiling.

"Hang on, I'll be right there!"

Victoria took the opportunity to roll her eyes as she stood with her hands on her hips. The image moved until it settled on the visage of a fox girl with bright orange hair. Her ear fluff and tail were white for contrast.

"Moshi mo-" Her cheery expression died in an instant.

"Kazoo!" Victoria said.

"Is there a life-threatening reason you called me?" She asked, suddenly very deadpan.

"Not particularly."

"Then I gotta get back to-"

"To what? Your streaming hobby?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact."

"Kazue, I didn't call you to check in on your side hustle. I got a job."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And all my teams are already deployed."

"Oh, so you want to call in a favor, huh?"

"Listen, princess. I can do this entirely by myself if I want. I just figured I'd give you an offer. I'll shoot you the coordinates, but I won't wait around forever. Bring your usual kit."

"Hang on, I didn't-"

"Buh-bye now!"

"Vicky, yo-!"

Victoria hung up on Kazue. Kazue Shigemori was the daughter of a very rich family, along with seven other children. She was born on a planet that her family owned, for all intents and purposes. They were arms manufacturers, with extensive ties throughout the galaxy. An empire built on war machines.

It was a night and day difference between the both of them. Victoria still preferred the seedy back alleys and grimy underground bars from the slums she grew up in. As Victoria searched the sectors for a suitable meeting location, she ruminated on those days. She'd never been a real soldier, but Kazue had been a career trooper for years.

They had met way back during a skirmish in the larger part of a civil war. She was there for a paycheck, unlike Kazue's honorable intentions. A rift so big that it seemed insurmountable was formed between them almost immediately when they first met. And yet, after a night on the line getting drunk, they quickly became friends. It had been history since that day. They still found ways to get under each other's skin, but it was all in good fun.

Victoria found a nice orbiting station a good distance from the target location and wrote down the coordinates. After a quick input, she sent them to Kazue and pointed her ship to the nearest gateway. The trip would be quick, but her fox girl friend would most assuredly arrive before her. After all, mommy and daddy's money paid handsomely for her own custom ship that came from one of her family corporation's shipyards.

The money, the machines, the military. It wasn't handed to Kazue on a silver platter, but it wasn't like she didn't have a helping hand in the process. A powerful family came with a lot of perks. Victoria was hoping that Kazue didn't forget who watched her back, though. This job was already giving her a weird feeling. Something she couldn't shake. But a quick stop at the station for a discussion would be good for them. So, she told Mitsuri to handle the FTL transport procedures while she got some shut eye, and would consider it an early end to her work day if she did.

The next hours went by without any trouble. A good sign in the business. Mitsuri managed to dock the ship at the station and took care of the credentials. She opened the door and shook Victoria until she was awake.

"You have arrived at your destination." She told her.

"Thanks. I'll handle it all from here."

"Of course."

Victoria watched Mitsuri glance at the mess of a room she was in before departing. Victoria had always said that she would be the one to clean her own room. It was for a lot of reasons, and none of them were very charitable to her own character. But it was the quirk of the job she gave the maid, and so the maid agreed.

Victoria got on a black leather jacket to go over her tank top, and her favorite pair of worn-out jeans. She kicked on her combat boots and zipped up the sides before heading out into the docking connection. Two seconds later she was in the station proper, looking around at all the shops and storefronts.

Her meeting place was easy to find. A bar at the far end where foot traffic was light and customers rarely showed. It was a dump that barely paid for the space it rented on time, if at all, and that's why she picked it. Sure enough, Kazue was sitting at a table in the back, her headphones on and her eyes wary. Victoria slid into the booth opposite her with a wolfish smile.

"Why do you always pick these awful, run-down bars to meet in?" Kazue asked.

"Because people rarely come here. Makes tails and eavesdroppers easier to spot." Victoria answered.

"Are you worried about being followed?"

"Nothing like a little extra precaution." Victoria lied.

"Very well. What's this hot new job that I need to drag myself away from my cushy house to do with you?"

"We're stealing from those fuckers you and I met way back during that little skirmish on that desert planet a year ago."