The Realm of Ahunna

Unnamed Island, Ass-end of Nowhere, Deran Province

Bobo Toreebo, captain of the Naked Tusk pirates, stood staring dispiritedly at their findings from the depths of the wrecked ship her crew had found on the island.

“Mazd, do you think I’m cursed?” Bobo asked of the woman beside her, Mazd Dezpato, Bobo’s first mate and long-time friend.

Mazd gave a buzzing laugh. “Maybe,” she said. “Juzt a tiny bit.”

“It’s not funny, Mazd. I mean, I wasn’t expecting the ship to be bursting with gold or anything, but seriously? Cages and chains? The corpses didn’t even have anything to loot.”

Mazd shrugged her bony shoulders, just the two upper ones. “Well, what do you ezpect? Zze zhip obviouzly belonged to zlave traderz.”

“Couldn’t they have been rich slave traders though? Look at all this junk,” Bobo said, irritably rifling through the weapons and pieces of old machinery—many of them rusted past uselessness—that were the only things remotely of value they’d found in the ship.

Though considering the ship looked like it had been sitting in the jungle dirt for well over a century, it was impressive that anything recognizable even remained.

“Weren’t you zze one who told me people don’t get rich from pirazy?” Mazd queried.

“That’s piracy,” Bobo disagreed. “It’s different.”

“True, it iz,” Mazd said. “Zlave dealing iz like the retarded brother to pirazy, after all. And bezides, between kidnapping, buccaneering, zmuggling, and zze odd azzazination for when all ozzer buzinezz iz zlow, a pirate iz actually more likely to make endz meet zzan a zlaver.”

Bobo refrained from reminding the other woman that most pirate crews didn’t dabble in half as many things as the Naked Tusks did. “Well, whichever occupation is better, the point is we spent over twenty days digging through that fucking ship and this—” she kicked an unlucky member of the objects on the floor crossly; it came to pieces long before it even struck the wall “is all we have to show for it."

With a heavy sigh, Bobo slumped onto her chair, a sturdy, metal affair that still groaned under the rhinoroid’s enormous weight.

She and Mazd were in her cabin, which was the largest private space on the ship, making it actually more like a small apartment, with a restroom, bedroom, and what was a sort of mix between a parlour and study and where they were currently seated.

“Maybe it’z not all bad,” Mazd said. “We might be able to pazz off zome of zziz ztuff az relicz or zomething; zere are alwayz rich ZOBz looking to purchaze zzingz like zzat.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Bobo said, but it was clear her heart wasn’t in that plan.

Opening a drawer in the large desk she was seated behind, Bobo pulled out a half-empty bottle of cheap liquor and a (probably) clean glass. It was the last bottle she had, probably the last bottle anyone on the ship had. Stocks were running out, and if not for the fact that the island was teeming with wildlife, food would have run out ages ago.

“Want some?” Bobo asked Mazd. The slender, four-armed woman shook her head no.

Awesome, more for her.

Bobo returned the glass to the drawer and drank straight from the bottle, enjoying the burn of the liquid sliding down her throat as Mazd observed the jungle outside the large windows.

As Bobo took her third sip, Mazd asked, “so, we’re going back to the original plan then?”

“Yup,” Bobo said, popping the ‘p’ sound.

The original plan, which had been to take out her crew and deliver those who had bounties (which, fortuitously, added up to 150,000 more than what she owed) to Firenze had been put on hold when they’d found the ship, because Bobo had hoped (rather naively, she was willing to admit to herself) that it would have something of value they could sell.

Weeks of exploring the rotting, jungle-claimed depths of the ship and having only the junk sitting on the floor of her parlour to show for it had completely robbed her of that hope though. So, Bobo, being the flexible woman that she was, had already decided, even before Mazd brought it up, to return to the original plan.

Unless, of course, something better came along. But what were the odds of that?

Bobo’s radio buzzed with static, and then a voice came through, “Captain. Yo, Captain, you there?”

Bobo picked up the radio. “Yeah. What is it, Ooeem?”

“Naked people, Captain. On the island below us. Figured you might wanna come take a look see.”

Bobo frowned in confusion; there couldn’t be people on the lower island, it was barren. It was why she’d landed her ship in this bug-infested jungle. And wait, what did he mean naked?

“You sure it’s not some of the crew?” Mazd asked, seemingly of the same thought with Bobo, and the rhinoroid relayed the question.

“Sure as my own name, Captain. Never seen these two before in my life.” A pause. “Never seen anyone like ’em either.”

Bobo had been interested before, but those words caught her attention. “We’ll be right there,” she told Ooeem as she began to head for the bridge, and without needing to be told, Mazd followed.

Save for Ooeem, who was seated at his station, the bridge was empty. He turned as the two women walked in, then quietly obeyed Bobo’s order of “show me.”

A blueish, holographic image of two people appeared over the central display panel.

They were naked, like Ooeem had said. Well, one of them, a female, was naked, the male was at least wearing a ratty pair of trousers.

They were also clearly different species. Species that Bobo was not familiar with.

Both had upright postures and forward-facing heads like so many sapient races tended to, and while the male could have passed for a Deran, he lacked the signature headfins those jerks were known for, having a head of hair instead.

“They look familiar to you?” Bobo asked Mazd who shook her head in the negative.

“He kind of lookz like a Deran but—”

“No headfins?” Bobo cut in.

Mazd nodded. “And her hornz; I’ve never zeen hornz like zzoze.”

“Ooeem,” Bobo called, “where did you find them?”

“Just there, Captain,” the man said, chin tentacles wriggling. “Was keeping an eye out like you said and the sensors picked ’em up.”

“Well, can we hear what they’re saying?” Bobo asked.

“Uh, nay, Captain,” Ooeem said.

“Why not?” Bobo asked, and this time it was Mazd who answered.

“You sold the long-range mics, B.”

“Dammit,” Bobo said. She should’ve known that one would come back to bite her in the ass. She looked back at the pair, walking steadily across the open, rocky ground, spears in hand, and talking little. Wait. “Are those spears made of stone?” Bobo asked Mazd.

Mazd peered closely. “Yez, zzey are,” she said, impressed. “Wonder how zzey made zzem.”

“Better question,” Bobo said. “How did they get here? And who are they?”

“Zzat’z obviouz,” Mazd said. “Portal.”

Bobo paused. “Oh. Yeah, that’ll do it. But what have they been drinking though? There’s no water down there; the scans said so.”

“Zzat I don’t know,” Mazd said.

Focus returned to the pair, who were now weaving through a field of giant boulders, Bobo was just beginning to wonder where they were headed when someone seemed to fade out of the shadow between two boulders rested together.

The new arrival was the same species as the female; he was also naked, and had a spear in hand. He and the pair exchanged a few words then all three disappeared back into the shadow he came from.

“Well zzat explainz how we mizzed zzem all thiz time,” Mazd said. “Zzey live underground.”

“Forget that,” Bobo said excitedly, as a plan seemed to sprout in her mind. “Mazd, do you know what this means?”

The other woman actually took a moment to think about it. “No, I don’t,” she said finally.

“They have a guard, which means there are more of them in there. Maybe dozens.” Yes, Bobo was really starting to like this idea. She didn’t know what had inspired it (though she suspected that spending the last three plus weeks digging through the remains of a wrecked slave ship might have something to do with it), but whatever it was, it probably just gave her the solution to her money problems.

Mazd seemed to be struggling with her patience. “B, zeeing az I’m not telepazzic, maybe it would be bezt if you told me your idea in itz entirety.”

“Okay, think. How much does a slave cost on the market these days?” Bobo asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe two hundred, two hundred fifty thous—” Mazd paused in realisation. “No. B, zzat iz a bad idea.”

Bobo had expected that reaction, Mazd had always been the reasonable one. She, on the other hand, was the one who usually got her way in the end.

“Zze zhit we’re wanted for iz bad enough, and you want to add zlave dealing to zze lizt? Need I remind you what zze Duchezz’ polizy on zlavery iz?”

“Come on it’s not that bad,” Bobo said dismissively.

“Yez, it iz,” Mazd said with real heat.

“Uh, Captain?” Ooeem spoke up. Bobo had actually even forgotten he was still there. “I gotta go with the first mate on this one, ma’am. The Deran government don’t take too kindly to skin traders. And for folks with a record like ours?” He shuddered.

Bobo almost sighed. It was her mistake; she should have had this conversation with Mazd in private. No matter though, she would have them thinking her way in time. She needed them to. This was her big break, she could feel it. And she would be damned if she let anything get in her way.