Free Spacer Clans Adventure 1: Naero's Run by Mason Elliott

gleamed. A hungry smile swelled her violet lips. Most Corps elites had that smile. This one was particularly avaricious.
    The dock manager sweated torps suddenly. Apparently he knew who she was. “Lady Drianne Imiviel. I-I’m–”
    “ Honored, to be sure.” Naero heard movement outside of the office, and suddenly felt sorry for the dock manager. Busting his hump for the Corps and they didn’t even let him talk.
    Lady Drianne didn’t even look at him. “Dock Manager Farris, we are conducting a surprise efficiency inspection.”
    Farris paled like a moonrise. “B-but, we just had one two months ago! We p-passed in the ninetieth percentile!”
    “ Our records show you were warned about the inspection so that you had time to prepare.”
    “ I–”
    “ Don’t bother denying it. Your conspirators have already confessed and been demoted. Now, this shipper in question. What is the problem?”
    “ Look, it’s no problem,” Naero said.
    “ That will be determined.” A flash of that smile again. “Now, Mr. Farris. Why hasn’t your staff delivered Triax’s goods to this shipper in an efficient and timely manner?”
    “ It’s not my fault. Priority shipments came through, heavy military traffic. The locals...they just had a holiday a few days ago and the loading teams are all off speed. The Corps floaters and migrants I ordered haven’t all come in yet, and the ones I have came to me, uh...badly trained and motivated. I’m doing the best with what I have. We’re a little behind, but she’ll get her goods.”
    “ Good enough,” Naero said. She turned to depart.
    “ A moment, young woman,” the Corps lady said. “I may need a report from you. Now, Mr. Farris, it seems that you’ve given certain shipments priority, and not just Corp-haulers over indeps. It appears that this cleverly veiled series of priority shipments matches investments made by other family and friends and acquaintances of yours, scattered over thirty or forty systems.”
    Lady Drianne pressed a radiant jewel on her wristcomp.
    Farris looked as if he ’d been shoved out of an airlock. Naero yawned. Wasn’t anything any other dock alpha wouldn’t do.
    She grew mildly curious as to why Triax Corps chose to roll over on this guy. He’d either gotten too greedy or hadn’t given the right supers a big enough cut. Either way, he’d torped off someone high up in Triax.
    “ We’ll talk, in your office, in one hour. Have your records ready for inspection.”
    Two other Triax personnel and a bot joined them from just outside the doorway, stopping behind Lady Drianne. The foremost looked clerkish and efficient, no doubt the inspector. If the lady was a shark, this guy was a piranha.
    The bot and the other person behind them were of interest. Bodyguards. Only the lander elites could afford bots. With their strong, independent need for competency and self-sufficiency, Spacers never relied on them.
    This bot was a class eight Triaxian sec-bot, with some apparent modifications. It moved about fluidly, rearing up on four of its six legs. Its various recorders and scanners clicked and whirred, very insect-like, but it seemed focused on Naero for some reason. Lady Drianne spoke to the clerk.
    “ Inspector Cho, take my sec-drone and escort Mr. Farris. Make certain that he does not leave us, harm any records...or himself. Mr. Farris, your second? Mr. Farris?”
    Farris looked dazed, then he punched up a micro-button on his finger band. “Hassan,” he said in a horse whisper. “Get up here right away. I don’t care what you’re doing. Get up here. Now!”
    Farris drifted off in a fog, muttering to himself, flanked by the sec-bot and the clerk.
    The second bodyguard stepped out of the shadows.
    N ot too ugly...for a Matayan goon.
    He loomed tall and meaty, with a thick face and a bright, intricately braided blond horsetail. It clashed with his Corps primate suit.
    Only blooded Matayan warriors could wear their hair long. Their nobility wore two or