The story of Old Boar
3255
Archimedes Zarch was staring at the numbers which were projected above his gold and ivory desk. Actually, he was staring through the numbers, as he knew very well what they meant: his fortune had been evaporated almost completely, due to the drop in prices of bauxite. What was worse than that, he had also lost his reputation by not being able to pay his depts to the Duval family in time. And his rivals were aware of that. So, damage control was in order.
Financially, he might survive. Once he could restore his reputation, he still had enough contacts in the Empire, especially his wife's family, to get through. That is, if she would not decide to leave him. And that was the problem. Well, one of his household slaves was. She was pregnant, and chances were quite high that Archimedes Zarch was the father of the child. It was the worst of times to have to deal with a [illegitimate] kid, so he had to act quickly.
A short firm knock on the door, Archimedes Zarch recognized the sound: only his trusted secretary could knock like that. He waved to the door, which opened with a barely audible hissing sound.
"Sir, mister Sharp has arrived."
"Send him in!"
A bony man, dressed in what was fashionable to wear under a spacesuit this season, entered the room. Mister Sharp was obviously sharp in everything.
"My dear Archimedes! What can I do for you today?"
"Ha, Sharp! I have some slaves to sell." Archimedes Zarch knew that Sharp liked to come to the point as early as possible, without much ado.
"You mean the tribal woman?" Sharp loved to immediately make clear that he was, as always, well informed. "She will be hard to sell. In her condition, she'll be more of a cost than an asset."
The tribal woman. Kayohko-Nq, or that was at least what he could make up from her incomprehensible language. She was not only beautiful, she was also wild. Or was that merely something in his imagination? No, she definitely had something savage about her. Something he had been unable to resist. Something which was a problem now.
"Well, it actually are two tribal women. Her sister is, let's say, undamaged. She is younger, early twenties, and strong. You'll get a high price for her."
"I see. Let me not waste your time, and talk money. I'll pay you 8000 credits for the younger one, provided she is indeed as you say. And you'll pay me 13000 to get rid of the other one."
"Hmmm... OK, but promise me you'll not just space her. Drop her somewhere outside of the Empire, sell her on some anarchy planet or whatever." Sharp might not, but Archimedes Zarch had morals: he just
had to, now that his reputation had been damaged.
"Will do. Here, I brought a bottle of Teveriian Evil Juice along. 3265, an excellent year. Let's have a drink on the deal."
----
* Certificate of Birth *
Date:
3255-02-05
Name:
Old Boar (placeholder, to be changed at adoption)
Gender:
Male
Weight:
3.18 kg
Father:
unknown.
Mother:
Kayohko-Nq (presumably, correct spelling unknown), deceased during or after giving birth, age: mid to late twenties, belonging to unknown tribe.
Place of Birth:
Witchspace, jumping to Riedquat (hyperspace start point is not known), in a slave cargo container on board of Krait class spaceship "Old Boar", property of Cmdr Michelangelo Sharp (Empire citizen, fugitive).
Other relatives:
Loimnau (presumably), aunt, speaking unknown tribal language, sold as slave on black market to unidentified party.
Declared and witnessed by:
Riedquat Spaceport, sub-controller Ellen Tokawa and ship loading worker James E. Röhe.
Issued by:
T. L. Lintman, Riedquat Voluntary Population Registration Co-operative.
[Signatures:
T. I. Lindermann, Ellen Tokawa, J. Eric Rôhe]
[Seal of which authenticity cannot be determined]
----
3265 ((
Edit: The below part is subject to change, to be in line with the lore of the
Winged Cobra Tribe))
Dancing Groigan shut down the engines of his Cobra Mk III. He took his paper logbook from the empty seat next to him and started writing: "3265-09-03. The tribe docked at Riedquat. Submitting three pirate vouchers and selling the Arcturian Megaweed we collected along the way." He looked again at the empty seat and sighed: it was different when Fatiau, his wife, was sitting there. He felt he had aged a century since she died in that damn Thargoid attack. Off to the bounty office to cash in his vouchers.
"Here you are sir. Oooh... that second pirate kill has elevated you to Elite status. Congratulations sir!" The bounty officer opened a drawer and took out a bird shaped silver badge which he handed to Dancing Groigan.
"So this is it." Dancing Groigan thought. He remembered well how he was dreaming about this very badge as a boy. Now, it seemed so futile. He had lost count of his kills a long time ago, there was nothing glamorous about it. He put the badge in his pocket and went off to the bar to meet his tribesmen.
When he entered the bar, it felt like a soft gush of wind along his side. Somebody who was less aware might not have noticed it. But Dancing Groigan immediately knew he had lost something. He turned around and saw a boy with dark hair rushing towards the exit. Groigan whistled, a high sharp tone. Immediately, his tribesmen jumped up. Lazy Joe, sitting close to the exit merely moved his foot a couple of inches forward, making the running boy fall flat. Joe then put his massive boot on top of the boys back.
"So, you wanted my ceremonial knife." Groigan said while he took the small silver knife from the boy. "This is not something you should steal, but something you should earn. Didn't your parents not teach you not to steal?" Joe lifted his foot and the boy turned around.
"I have no parents." Dancing Groigan stared at the slave badge on the front on the sleeve of the boys shirt.
"What is your name?"
"Old Boar!"
"Hey, no need to insult me. I may be old, but nobody ever called me a bore before."
"No, my name is Old Boar."
"That is a weird name for a boy of your age. Who is your owner?"
"I am property of the Slave Orphanage. Too much trouble to be sold and bewitched they tell me there."
"Bewitched?"
"I was born in witchspace, it seems to bring bad luck. Well, as far as I know it
does bring bad luck."
In witchspace. Dancing Groigan had to swallow. He remember the prophecy well. When he married Fatiau, the shaman Lesser Elk had predicted that he would have a son in witchspace. After her death, he had always thought that it was just one of the many jokes by Lesser Elk. And now he met this boy, born in hyperspace.
"Well, it seems we need to have a talk with somebody at the Slave Orphanage."
Old Boar raised his shoulders. "They will punish me, and then continue to ignore me."
"No, Old Boar, that time is over. Let's give you a chance to earn that ceremonial dagger. Did you ever fly in a Cobra?"
