The Rembrandt Legacy

"Not bad for your first rodeo, Rem. When you can coax yourself away from Praecor, visit me and we'll have a little fun with gunnery simulations. Unless you want your ass beat in the Circle."

* * * *

After leaving the cockpit, I returned to my cabin. My stomach was growling. I used the chip Praecor had given me on the synthesis engine's control panel and scrolled through the list of food items available. To my surprise, they included a decent list of Terran foods. Grinning, I picked a portion of Pasta Bolognese. The machine worked for a few seconds and delivered a plate with steaming hot, delicious-smelling food and a set of cutlery on a plastic tray. I carried it to the desk and sat down, positively drooling. Good bye protein bars!

Objectively speaking, the food wasn't more than passable. A machine simply couldn't match the cooking of a good chef, that particular finesse when wielding spices. But to me, it was a feast fit for a king, the first decent plate of food in five years. It didn't last long and left me almost uncomfortably stuffed.

I had just put the dirty plate and cutlery back into the synthesis engine when someone knocked at my door. I really could get used to the politeness most of my crew members displayed.

"Come in!" I called.

The door hissed open and Crush entered, ducking through the door frame with a sour expression on his face. He had a duffel bag in one hand which looked about three sizes too small on him.

"What have I done?" I asked him.

He straightened up. The room suddenly appeared much smaller with the towering Gravon in it. His face relaxed as he stepped away from the door. He sat down on the end of the bed. I half-expected the frame to groan in protest, but it took the huge man's weight without any protest.

"Don't mind me," Crush said. His voice was a low, deep rumble I registered as much with my stomach as with my ears, even though he spoke rather softly. "Some parts of this ship were just not built with my size figured in." He flashed me an expansive smile. His teeth were very white, his upper canines gold-plated and somewhat longer than usual. I could imagine him standing on the top turnbuckle of BattleDome's hexagonal ring, charming the masses -- or scaring the living daylights out of little kids when he screamed in rage.

"What can I do for you?" I asked him. This up close, I could see the scars and craters on his skin, his broad pecs textured much like a planet's surface. His contours were more angular than on a human. "Damn. You look like you've weathered a meteor shower."

"It looks worse than it is." He tapped his chest with his knuckles. It sounded like he was knocking on a hardshell case. "Subdermal armor plates. Patching up the skin's a bitch though and I'm too stingy to buy a makeover any time I get shot or stabbed. Besides, the fans loved it. Gave me some cred in the ring." He harrumphed, brushing his hand over his bald pate. When he looked at me again, his expression was much more serious.

"So. Fresh out of the klink, huh? How many guys did you shiv?"

I laughed. "What, is that your way of checking out my combat prowess?"

The grin was back. "Yeah, that was the idea. So, how many?"

"Zero. I shiv'd no one. I wasn't allowed near any kind of tool and the guards even made sure the black market gave me a wide berth."

"Wow. You had to be very popular in the showers then, eh?"

"Don't get me wrong. I had a guy eat a wall when he didn't stop tormenting me." I mimicked shoving an asshole's head into the tiles. "That, plus my mutant status kept the bullies in check."

Surprisingly, his grin widened and he exhaled, relaxing.

"What?"

"I wasn't sure what kind of psychopath Lily would bring aboard next. You humans are as crazy as a Grey ship on EuphorEx. Or so they say. Nice to see you are not a frothing maniac."

"Says the man who threw half-naked Zuthrians through a ring for a living, eh?"

His face darkened, the mouth turned into a nasty scowl -- and then he tossed his head back, roaring in laughter. A massive hand slapped my shoulder, nearly tipping me off the chair.

His laughter subsided. "Quick thinker, but reckless. I think I can work with that." He nudged the bag my way. "Have a look. Let me know what you want."

I pulled the bag close and opened it. Inside I found a few weapons with holsters and extra ammunition. I grabbed one at random and lifted it. It was a ginormous Gravon handgun, weighing at least six to eight pounds, with an eight-shot drum magazine. The bullets clipped to the belt were thicker than both my thumbs combined.

"I'll pass on that one," I said, dropping it on the bed. "The kick would probably break my arm or make me do backflips."

"For some people, a big gun is an easy way to compensate," Crush said, index and middle finger pointing at his crotch.

"I don't need that." Next up came a long-barreled, sleek weapon. I remembered Praecor putting one back into his holster when we left Sickbay. I allowed my gift to flare up. A moment of introspection later, and I knew that this was a precision laser pistol usually used in sporting matches. "Not really my style either. I might hit a guy a thousand feet away with it, but he might still be standing afterwards." It joined the Gravon slugger on the bed.

The next item from the bag was a short, stubby plasma pistol, the hexagonal barrel and large, insulated furnace recognizable even for the uninitiated thanks to its proliferation in action holovids. After all, there were few things flashier than a person being turned into a screaming, dancing flare once the ball of incandescent plasma hit. I shivered and tossed it onto the bed.

There were only two guns left in the bag. I recognized the boxy shape of a concussion pistol. A nonlethal option with the punch of a shotgun rubber round but pitiful range. Titan's prison guards had larger versions of these as their day-to-day peacemakers. I skipped it in favor of the last one. My fingers closed around the grip and I pulled it free. The frame of the weapon was made from what looked like actual bone, with gilded, roughed plates screwed to the grip, giving it a snug fit in my hand. An ornate magazine jutted from the bottom of the short barrel. The whole thing looked baroque, very compact and it felt rather heavy. Next to the holster, two small tanks and several of the boxy magazines had been clipped to the belt.

"Love at first sight, eh?" Crush asked, smiling.

"Well, I am at least intrigued. Haven't seen anything like this before. Give me a moment."

"To do what?"

I didn't answer, instead trying my best to find my center for the fourth time today. All I got was a throbbing headache instead. You're overdoing it, Rem. Just ask him already. I put the weapon back into it's holster.

"I've tried to use my mutant ability. Or... how did Praecor call it? My Legacy? But after not using it for five years, I must've been a bit too greedy." I massaged my temples. "What is this?"

"It's a Zuthrian dart gun. Quirky little thing. Lily got it off one of her exes."

"Huh. But... darts?"

"You'd be surprised. Gimme that for a second."

I handed him the holstered weapon and he pulled a magazine from the belt. With quick, nimble fingers, he ejected a few darts and handed them to me. They were as ornate as the gun itself, the shaft made from finely alloyed metals, with a narrow, colored stripe just below the very sharp-looking, finned tip.

"Anti-personnel. Good against soft targets. The tip opens once it hits something. Very messy. But we also have armor-piercing, high-explosive and as many ugly chem warheads as you like. Range is only so-so, but it's a decent self-defense piece."

"Having options is good," I said. "I think I'll take it. Praecor can get me refills?"

"Any kind of drug you need." Crush put the remaining guns back into the bag and rose. "You look beat, man. Take a nap." Another clap on the shoulder, this time much softer. He marched to the door, opened it and ducked out. Remembering something, he ducked back into my cabin.

"Vael sent me a text. Said she'd like to play with you a bit and I should make sure she doesn't kill you on accident. Drop by the gym when you want to train a bit."

Groaning, I leaned back into my chair. What did I get myself into?

* * * *

As it turned out, a freaking lot of work. The ship operated on three eight-hour shifts. During alpha shift, Praecor tried to share psionic meditation and mental acrobatic skills with me. "Your brain, your gift is like a muscle. You need to exercise it. Praying and hoping it would work when you need it isn't gonna cut it." He had me use my gift over and over. Once I could "manifest", as he called it, reliably, he went on to throw distractions my way, going so far as to have Lily ambush me with a blow job while I was elbow-deep in a broken repulsor drive. Needless to say, that kind of exertion resulted in me ending the first week's worth of training sessions totally wrung out and with murderous headaches. Thankfully, I could take beta shift off and recover somewhat.

I spent charlie shift alternating between the cockpit and the gym.

Co-pilot duty alongside Vaelia quickly turned into my favourite time of the day. During TransNet travel, there was precious little to do in actual flying besides making sure the autopilot worked, so she used the cockpit's troubleshooting systems to run simulation drills on everything from take-offs and landings to maneuvering exercises in minefields or debris clouds.

Combat training with Crush was another matter entirely. I wouldn't say I was a non-confrontational person, but I preferred other options than brute force when dealing with opposition. Crush was the exact opposite. He loved quick, decisive encounters which only left one party standing, which generally was him. Nevertheless, his training paid off in unexpected ways. I didn't turn into a combat powerhouse, but my battlefield awareness grew and going up against such an overwhelming opponent like him helped with my guts.

By day eight, my training regime showed the first results. I could access my gift more often and quicker than before and it took a concerted effort to break my concentration. Not even the sight of Lily and Vaelia frolicking in the pool fazed me as I disassembled a holoscreen terminal Crush had broken on Praecor's behalf. Lily's moans were a soft murmur in the background as I extracted broken logic boards and shattered crystals, replacing them with the spares I built. Vael came with a guttural laugh which barely registered while I slid the freshly mended case onto the unit. It's a marvel what a laser pistol set to it's lowest setting can do to shattered plastic.

My eyes snapped open. Cosina, Praecor and Crush stood around the table I had been working at. Lily and Vaelia were still in the pool, noisily kissing and stroking each other. Around me on the floor, arranged in a neat circle, were tools borrowed from Cosina's repair kit, spares and the holoscreen unit in front of me hummed softly, showing its self-test routine.

"You even improved it," Cosina said, awe in her voice. "The display area is twenty percent larger than before."

Normally, I could hardly remember what I had done, but this time, every step of the repair process was a glowing, laser-sharp beacon in my mind. "I fudged with the projection lens which had to be re-polished anyway. Altering the curvature a few degrees paid off." I was rather pleased with myself.

"And not a single glance towards the pool," Crush said. "No idea how you managed that." He stepped away from the table, adjusting the bulge in his pants.

"And what's even better," I said, wrinkling my forehead, "not a trace of headaches. How long did I work on this?"

"Less than twenty minutes from the moment Crush thrashed it," Praecor said, checking his comms unit. "I'm impressed. From now on, I can go a bit easier on you. Keep up your exercises and you'll get far."

"To do that, we need to buy some new tech scrap," I said with a grin.

"Lucky for you, we're less than four hours away from Waystation-81," Lily said from the pool. "Think you can dock the Lumia?"

"He knows how. I checked that yesterday," Vaelia commented, a contented purr.

"Well, I'll take any damage you cause to my ship out of your pay, understood?" Lily threatened, waggling a finger my way. When she knew she my attention, she slowly, lustily, sucked the finger into her mouth.

"What pay?" I asked.

"Check your account, Rem. I told you, you're a fully paid member of my crew."

I did as she said, tapping my wrist comm and paged to my payment data. My mouth went dry when I checked the balance.

"A hundred thousand credits? For what?"

Lily disentangled herself from Vaelia with one last, languid kiss and pulled herself from the pool. The TransNet glowing overhead, visible through the cupola, threw red reflections from every drop of water coming off her, giving Lily an almost sinister aura. She slithered past Crush, her fingers deftly caressing his erection. He cupped her behind as she strode past. Lily puckered her lips, then she joined us at the table.

"What, not enough?" she asked, crossing her arms in front of her breasts.

"No, no, quite the opposite. What have I done to deserve this generosity?"

"Ah, I understand. It's called 'an advance'. I have no trouble outfitting you with what we have on hand, but I'm sure you want to buy some personal items and better equipment once we make landfall. I love to have my crew well-supplied." She leaned forwards and kissed my nose. "A wealthy crew is a happy crew." A few drops of water dribbled on my shirt. "And I can't dock your pay if I didn't pay you, hm?" Another kiss, this time on my lips. She placed her wet cheek against mine and whispered. "Besides... you still remember our little deal, hm?"

Under the table, her hand found my crotch. And the raging boner I had suddenly gained.

"Good," she whispered. "Meet me at the airlock once you've docked my baby. Let me show you round." She stepped away from me, hugging a quietly complaining Cosina before claiming her suit off the floor near the pool. She turned around, addressing the whole room.

"Okay friends, listen up. I will take Rem and show him the promenade, get him properly dressed and kitted out, then we head straight for the 'Wormhole'. Crush, you make sure our reaction mass tanks are topped off, our torpedo magazines are filled to bursting and then pay your contact a visit. I want full sets of combat armor, plasma rifles, stun grenades and autodocs for every one of us."

"Got it," the Gravon growled.

"Vael and Cosina, you have your shopping list. I intend to throw one meal for the whole crew each day from now on. I'm sick of everybody vanishing when it's feeding time.

"Understood." Cosina actually saluted.

"Great. Once you're done, meet us in the 'Wormhole'. If we're not there, book the VIP section for us. Let's go." With long strides, she left the lounge. I realized I hadn't seen her anywhere else, but it would make sense for her to have a private sanctum somewhere on this ship.

A cool splash of water doused my hair. Vaelia, gloriously naked and dripping wet, stood over me.

"Wake up. Or do my tattoos mesmerize you that much?"

"Sorry. My thoughts were elsewhere. Aw, not that look. I wasn't thinking about boinking Lily. Or you."

"No? Am I that ugly?" She pushed one hip out and posed, one hand on her shapely hip, the other cupping a breast.

"Make up your mind already. Do you want to fight me or lay me?" By now, we were on pretty casual terms and I wasn't afraid to insult her by being a bit more aggressive.

"Both, in order." A small chuckle. Cosina threw her a fluffy towel with a googly-eyed Grey on it and Vaelia pulled it around herself. "I'll get dressed. Care to take us out of the TransNet until I get back? You haven't forgotten, right?"

"Nah, no problem." I rose from my chair. For the first time I realized that Vaelia was almost half a hand shorter than me. I never noticed that in the cockpit. Maybe my chances against her...

Vaelia turned towards the exit leading to her cabin, toweling herself down as she went. The towel dropped to just above her firm behind. Her back was tattooed as well, with a giant toothy maw about to close around a cracked planet and I saw the scars. A double row of cratered puncture marks ran towards her spine from her left shoulder. The tattoo artist had colored them in green, as some vestigial eyes next to the maw. I re-evaluated the outcome of the fight and decided to spend more time with Crush first. Shaking my head at my own megalomania, I headed for the cockpit.

The seat hugged me as I checked the autopilot, then the nav system. Not much longer until we've reached our destination. I tapped the call button on my headset.

"Okay people, this is your pilot speaking. Please stop groping each other, hold on to something and brace for realspace entry. Three minutes until arrival." Out of habit, I ran a quick diagnostic check, just to be sure everything was in order. The power core ran quite hot. Little wonder with all the systems it had to power, especially in the TransNet. Besides the usual load of the ship, the shields had to be up all the time and were under enormous stress, trying to keep the TransNet currents from tearing the Lumia to shreds. All things considered, this ship ran super-smooth.

Once I had made sure of that, I targeted the echo the exit portal projected into the 'Net.

Behind me, the cockpit door hissed open. Vaelia, dressed in her usual flight suit, tossed a few strands of wet hair over her shoulder and slid into her station. The seat whirred and hissed as it adjusted to her body and she pulled down her headset.

"Nice speech," she remarked, adjusting the mike's boom. "Found our exit yet?"

I nodded towards the main screen. Bright blue brackets framed the portal ring's echo. "Am I still on probation?" I asked playfully.

"I wouldn't let you be in here alone if you were," she said, hands on her thighs. "As far as I'm concerned, you already have your license. Want me to kill the autopilot?"

"Nah." I grasped the control stick with one hand and switched off the machine brain which had guided the ship through the TransNet. "I got this."

I was glad we had trained this the last few days though. Prior to my fortuitous release from the Titan supermax prison, I had never been away from the Sol system. Fifty years doesn't sound like such a long time, but in these years, the Nor had established a new city in the Mojave desert called 'Unity's Landing', after the site where their first scout ship had made planetfall. It had blossomed practically overnight into Earth's first major spaceport and the showpiece of what the Republic could do for our backwater planet. The areas around the city had turned into a garden, green production sites churned out high-tech items at ridiculously cheap prices and education and medicine made jumps thought impossible. Similar cities soon were founded in Australia and the Congo, turning desolate areas into thriving boom economies. With new terraforming techniques came a revitalization of agriculture and a decrease of famine. A few short years later, we had factories orbiting Mars, ore mines on many asteroids in the Belt and the prison on Titan. Five years after that, the TransNet portal went into operation, tethering Sol even closer to the Nor Republic. The Sol system had enough nooks and crannies for illegal operations to flourish in. Too bad our attempted theft of a battlecruiser from the Mars Refit Yards went down as one of the biggest flopped heists in history. Anyway, I had come a long way in a very short time. I was farther away from home than ever. No. That wasn't quite right. This was my new home now.

Smiling, I checked the course. Only a few seconds. The echo of the TransNet portal loomed in front of us. "Pinging the portal." My hand hovered over the button. "Now."