ME: Dahlia Stark - Episode 14 - Cost of Living

    As the Ryxera broached the atmosphere of Horizon, a pair of outdated interceptors arrived to escort the ship through airspace over the colony’s capital, Discovery. With significant help from Pepper, Jin guided the vessel towards the spaceport where they were given clearance to land. David brought his relatives up from the cargo hold so they could return to solid ground and freedom, but Dahlia pulled him aside.

    “I’m probably crazy to volunteer,” she said, “but you’d better let me disembark first.”

    “Why?”

    “Whoever leaves the ship first will probably set a new personal record for most gun barrels aimed at them, and the colonists will be less trigger happy if they see a human. I’m not trying to hold anything against you, Dave, but I don’t want to see you get shot right as you’re about to be a big hero and set your family free.”

    David offered a sigh but no argument.

    Once the ship had settled its stout, extended struts upon the landing pad on the spaceport fringe, Dahlia stepped down from the gangway with her hands raised in the air. She didn’t feel like a criminal, even though she was joint owner of a stolen ship, yet she also didn’t want to give any cause for the welcoming committee to turn into a firing squad. She silently counted six colonial militia soldiers aiming assault rifles at her, but then amended her count to seven when she noticed the sniper perched atop one of the spaceport’s outbuildings.

    Dahlia breathed deeply in accomplishment when, after agonizingly slow moments, she planted both feet on the weathered concrete of the landing pad without any new holes in her body. Her skin itched terribly beneath the bandages she still wore on her back to protect the mostly healed wounds from being “fired” from Orsk’s market. One of the soldiers, presumably a militia sergeant, approached Dahlia with his rifle aimed downward but still clutched with both hands.

    “Are you the captain of the ISV Ryxera?” he demanded.

    “Um, we haven’t quite sorted that out,” she said with a nervous smile. “Our crew includes myself, a volus, two quarians, and a very nice batarian whom you definitely should not shoot. We’ll answer any questions you have, but like we said over the comms, we have some rescued colonists in need of food and medicine. Please help them before locking us up.”

    The militia was willing and able to do both. Dahlia spent the next and most boring hour of her life in a bare white waiting room in a prefabricated security station. The rest of the crew disembarked without incident, and the freed prisoners were transported to a nearby hospital. Dahlia couldn’t fault the authorities for wanting to question the ragtag crew since they were technically flying a pirate ship.

    “Sorry to keep you waiting,” the interrogator sardonically apologized to Dahlia when she was brought into a narrow conference room. “I’m Lieutenant Monica Rhodes with the Horizon Planetary Defense Force. I’ve already talked with the rest of your crew, and I’m almost completely convinced that you’re not dangerous.”

    “You’re talking to me last? Ouch, my pride,” Dahlia dared to joke.

    “Okay funny girl, what’s your name?”

    “Dahlia...Zhang,” she said, hoping Lt. Rhodes ignored her momentary pause. “My brother and I teamed up with the others to intercept the pirates at Omega so we could rescue our relatives and the other colonists.”

    “Your brother? You mean the batarian? He did not mention that you were siblings.”

    “One of us is adopted. Bet you can’t guess which one,” Dahlia smirked. “Dave was probably trying to protect me again. Growing up, we had to watch each other’s backs. He caught flak for being a batarian among humans, and I took heat for having a batarian for a brother.”

    Dahlia had hoped that her quick thinking would at least elicit a raised eyebrow, but Lt. Rhodes remained stonefaced.

    “We traced your ship’s profile,” Lt. Rhodes said, nonplussed. “It matches descriptions of a batarian raider that attacked a lunar colony in the Dirada System about nine days ago. Two other ships took part in the attack. Do you have any information about them?”

    “No,” Dahlia said with a sinking heart and turning stomach. David hadn’t mentioned other raiders. She suddenly, sickeningly wondered about the colonists imprisoned aboard the other ships - if they hadn’t already been taken to slave markets on some nameless world.

    “We’ll have to sweep your ship’s computers then. It may contain clues to where the other ships went.”

    “Actually, you’d better let me handle that,” Dahlia quickly responded.

    “Why would I let a random civilian get involved in a slaver investigation?”

    The hawkish gleam in Lt. Rhodes’s narrowed eyes unnerved Dahlia. She didn’t want the planetary militia to discover Pepper in the Ryxera’s computers. However, in a flash she realized that this problem could be the solution.

    “I have a specialized V.I. program that I used to trace this ship to Omega in the first place. I would be more than happy to use it to track those other two ships for you.”

    Dahlia did not know whether to count herself lucky or unlucky that, not long after, she was back aboard the Ryxera with her friends, as well as Lt. Rhodes and two other colonial soldiers supervising her work to trace the other slaver ships. She found this level of attention both flattering and worrying. Fortunately, Pepper needed no cue to pretend to be a simple V.I. while regurgitating the data she’d already found by combing through the ship’s communication logs.

    “Impressive work. I’m guessing this program isn’t commercially available,” Lt. Rhodes said while removing an OSD with the downloaded information.

    “No way,” Dahlia said, imagining that Pepper was sharing a silent laugh with her. “I’ve been working on Pepper for years.”

    “Well it works quicker than what we use. Hell, it’s probably ahead of the Alliance’s software. You should consider marketing it.”

    “That reminds me,” Dahlia said, eager to change the subject, “The ship...we can keep it, right? I know we didn’t exactly buy it, but I’d say we’ve earned it.”

    “Seeing as how the original owners are in absolutely no position to bring the matter to court,” Lt. Rhodes answered, “I’m certainly not going to take it from you. Of course you will be on the hook for docking fees.”

    “Docking fees?” Hann exclaimed.

    “Yeah. The Alliance, Citadel Council, and a lot of merchant companies have contracts worked out with the colonial government to use our spaceports, but independent vessels are charged docking fees. That’s in addition to costs for refueling or discharging your drive core’s static charge. Anyhow, thank you for your cooperation. Carry on.”

    The lieutenant and her subordinates departed the ship, leaving its now official crew in a decidedly less exuberant mood.

    “We’re never getting home, are we?” Hann groaned.

    “Don’t worry,” Jin said. “I told you...I sold my share of my business...before leaving the station...I should be able to cover the costs.”

    “Thank you, Jin,” Elsai said. “We really appreciate your generosity.”

    “I’m not just being generous,” the volus pointed out. “This is the closest thing...I have to a home now...I’m not letting it be repossessed.”

    “Well, that might be a problem,” Hann said, his words drawn out by the awkward tension he felt building up. “You see, Elsai and I were going to bring this ship back to the Migrant Fleet as our Pilgrimage gift.”

    “Hann, you can’t take this ship back to the fleet,” Elsai said solemnly.

    “Dave said we could have the ship if we helped him,” Hann argued. “I understand that Jin has a stake in the ship, just like you, me, and Dahlia, but we’ll find a way to repay him so we can bring the ship back home.”

    Elsai sighed, shaking her helmeted head. Dahlia saw from the slump of the quarian girl’s shoulders that she’d decided the truth had been put off long enough.

    “There’s something I need to tell you, Hann.”