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      Chapter 10

      Piehl had his reasons for wanting to go to the Junkyard. Despite its location toward the galactic core, it was intimately connected to the Dark Worlds. The Junkyard was in fact the biggest fencing operation in the Western Arm, and as such was a prime location for information, and information was what he wanted most.

      Very little was known about the Dark Worlds. There were historical records and ethnological survey data, but it was mostly the product of university studies and government surveys; ergo, garbage.

      At the Junkyard anything could be had for a price and this time Piehl had the credits to pay.

      The Junkyard had its genesis shortly after the Eridani conflict early in the 3^rd Imperium. There was a tremendous logistics problem. Thousands of ships, satellites comm-stations, all the hardware of a long war had to be disposed of. Some rear-echelon chair warmer had fired up his star-vue and arbitrarily picked a location in the middle of nowhere, near the lone blue-white sun, Haera.

      It became the dumping ground of everything, all the debris of a outward moving, space faring civilization. Then, over the centuries, it was sold to a variety of loners and criminals, few of whom were even vaguely honest; right up to the current owner, Glass Eyes Paradise. He was decidedly criminal.

      Each of the owners had added to the inventory, the flotsam and jetsam of planetary castoffs. It was a dumping ground, a junkyard on a Promethean scale.

      Few remembered what Glass-Eye's real name was. There was a rumor that he had been a tax collector in the old Imperium. A man whose cruelty and avarice couldn't be swept under the rug. Finally, even that vice-ridden crew had to get rid of him before they were all exposed.

      Now he was the Junkman, a dealer in stolen goods, a seller of secrets, anyone's secrets, for a price. And gathered around him were the worst bunch of cutthroats and killers outside of the Dark Worlds.

      Piehl had several reasons for going. It wasn't a social call. He had to update his star-charts of the Rim area, more specifically the inhabited planets; who was on them and what were the lines of communication. He had to know who had the power, and over whom it was exercised.

      He was especially curious about the Beyond-The-Rim-Hegemony. There was a lot of hard to come by information and Piehl knew he could get it at the Junkyard. It was just a question of how much it would cost.

      There was another item that piqued Piehl's curiosity. Persistent rumors of an alien artifact, classified as an 'Intergalactic Transport Station' had been floating around the dock area for a month before they left Regents. It was said to be completely alien and very much intact. Rumor said it was located south of the galactic ecliptic on the Western Rim. Not very precise on location, but that could change.

      Now that, Piehl thought, I would like to see.

      Chapter 11

      Piehl had ordered a portion of #2 hold set up as an exercise area. He stood six foot three and had a tendency to put on weight. The food on the ship was far too good. The processor had been loaded with delicacies which would quickly put pounds on a sedentary crewman. To offset this, Piehl made it mandatory for all crew to do hard exercise every two days.

      On the third day out it was his time slot so he headed aft. As he passed the crew quarters he met the Lady Lociranou headed in the same direction. Though it had been three days since they left Regent's, he hadn't seen her except at her station as the communications officer.

      She was wearing a loose robe of some soft cloth and had her long hair tied up in a pile. She looked delicious! Piehl asked her where she was headed.

      "To the exercise area, Sir Aubrey," she smiled. "Just following orders like a loyal, obedient officer." Piehl wondered if he was getting soft in the head.

      She saw his blank look. "You did order it, Captain, and you had the schedule put on everyone's comp."

      Piehl remembered. Of course he had. But he didn't know he'd been scheduled with her.

      Nice going, Piehl. Get a real good fire started, why not pour some oil on it! He had Flex do the schedules and post them.

      It was apparent to everyone on the ship that Piehl was carefully avoiding the Lady Giselle. It was even the subject of bawdy jokes between Flex and the sergeant as to how long he would last before he was caught.

      "My Lady, if you would rather have privacy I'd be happy to postpone my exercise period." He hoped there was some way to get out of it.

      "Oh, no, Captain. There's plenty of room for..." She paused. "Are you avoiding me, Captain?"

      "Certainly not, my Lady." Damn, now I'm lying. The problem was that one stripped down to essentials. Some wore nothing at all. It usually got very warm after a few minutes.

      Give me strength. There wasn't any way out. Piehl had been celibate for many months, and she was uncommonly beautiful. Beyond that, and even more dangerous, was the mutual affinity. He'd been raised to the idea that ships in space and romance only brought trouble.

      "Fine then." He said. "Let's get to it and see what kind of shape we're in." Blast! Keep your damn mouth shut. She had grinned at his last comment.

      When they reached the #2 hold he held the hatch open for her and got a whiff of perfume that had more stun power than a blast rifle. He closed and sealed the hatch.

      As she moved across the area to an exercise bench Piehl spoke quietly with his back to her.

      "IMP?"

      "Yes, boss."

      "Shut down all sensors in this area. No input or output unless we run into a black hole."

      "Right Captain, going dark, now."

      Giselle was taking her robe off when Piehl turned and he was helpless to do anything except stare. She wore only a brief pair of beige shorts of lightweight material. She looked at Piehl and he saw her flush all over.

      "If we're going to exercise you're going to have to stop looking at me like that," she said softly.

      "Oh, sorry, my Lady, of course."

      Piehl had difficulty speaking. He quickly went over to a running machine and started going five times his normal rate. It was no good. He was still seeing her pretty bosom and shapely hips.

      Finally he said the hell with it and walked over to where she was sitting on one of the exercisers. She stopped and looked up at Piehl expectantly. He reached out and ran his fingers over her cheeks and neck gently.

      She stood up and stepped into his arms as naturally as if she had been there many times before, and Piehl realized that in his thoughts she had.

      He took her to a tumbling mat and they played. Later he laughed at his thoughts. There’s exercise and there’s exercise! At one point she lay against his chest, her long hair loose, spread like wings of flame across his face and shoulders.

      He spoke quietly. "IMP, zero G and go, please." He gave a small shove and they floated up from the tumbling mat. They over-stayed their allotted time and left the area hand-in-hand. Outside, the Whistler and the Sufic major were waiting. Giselle blushed.

      "I see you, Captain, my Lady," the Whistler intoned drolly.

      The Sufic being more taciturn simply said, "Captain." There was a trace of a smile on his face.

      "Gentlemen." Piehl wasn't distressed. Couldn't take back what had happened, and if asked wouldn't have for all the stars in the sector.

      As they went up the corridor she giggled softly and asked, "Is that space really sound proof?"

      "I hope so, Giselle. It wouldn't do for the crew to hear their captain pleading for mercy. Very undignified."

      She laughed outright

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