Moot: Last Stand, #8

By Blaze Ward

Ten thousand folks getting together for their annual fair on Atwick, when the Red Cough breaks out.

 

Fin and Tessa must race for Beaumonde to bring back enough vaccine to keep people alive.

 

Constanz will not leave. Will not stop working. Will not surrender.

 

Even when he comes down with it.

 

Book Eight of the Last Stand, a shiny, new space western science fiction adventure series full of bright characters, messy worlds, and all manner of ethical conundrums.

 

Start first with Lost Dreams and then continue on and pick up the rest of this series!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Knotted Road Press
• Release date: Aug 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9781644703694

Blaze Ward

Blaze Ward writes science fiction in the Alexandria Station universe (Jessica Keller, The Science Officer,  The Story Road, etc.) as well as several other science fiction universes, such as Star Dragon, the Dominion, and more. He also writes odd bits of high fantasy with swords and orcs. In addition, he is the Editor and Publisher of Boundary Shock Quarterly Magazine. You can find out more at his website www.blazeward.com, as well as Facebook, Goodreads, and other places. Blaze's works are available as ebooks, paper, and audio, and can be found at a variety of online vendors. His newsletter comes out regularly, and you can also follow his blog on his website. He really enjoys interacting with fans, and looks forward to any and all questions—even ones about his books!

Book preview

Moot

Moot

Last Stand

Episode Eight

Blaze Ward

Knotted Road Press

Contents

Scene One

Scene Two

Scene Three

Scene Four

Scene Five

Scene Six

Scene Seven

Scene Eight

Scene Nine

Scene Ten

Scene Eleven

Scene Twelve

Scene Thirteen

Scene Fourteen

Scene Fifteen

Scene Sixteen

Scene Seventeen

Scene Eighteen

Scene Nineteen

Scene Twenty

Scene Twenty-One

Scene Twenty-Two

Scene Twenty-Three

Scene Twenty-Four

Read More

About the Author

Also by Blaze Ward

About Knotted Road Press

Scene One

Fin looked up from his planning as a shadow stepped into the corner of his eye. On the dining room table, he’d stretched out a big piece of heavy paper, then sketched the landing field from memory.

He grinned as Constanz sat down across from him, holding a mug of tea in one hand and carefully not setting it down where it might do anything.

I had not mentally prepared myself for such a large collection of ships, Constanz began, then faltered off. What was the technical term you used for this thing?

A moot, Fin replied with a grin. Ancient term for a large tribal gathering, in an era when you didn’t have radio communications. Back when we were all on one planet. Pre-industrial. Old Ergrove term, I think.

Fin couldn’t be sure of the philology. He’d been raised in Inleah. Different culture. Mercenarily neutral in all the wars over the last century, selling things to anyone with cash in hand. Little gray men in pretty gray suits.

And this happens every year? Constanz asked.

Does, Fin nodded, leaning forward and sketching a few more details in. Helped that he knew better than half these ships on sight. Even from an orbital scan. You and your wife didn’t miss the one last year by too much. It happened just before you two joined us. And Laney.

Are there really that many tramp freighters flying around? Constanz pointed with his free hand to Fin’s map.

Oh, folks come from other sectors, too, he replied. Boystone and Owlsdale primarily, but also some from the Core. This is more than just the galaxy’s biggest flea market, though it is that, as well.

How many ships? Constanz asked.

Usually between five and seven hundred, Fin nodded. This year feels on the high side. Plus, a lot of folks come out aboard one of these monsters. Cruise ships chartered specifically for the moot.

He tapped four arrowheads on the west edge of the space. Tourists always got to walk into the sunrise and then into the sunset. Old rules set down a long time ago. Traders like Last Stand got better parking.

Where will we land?

Things are still a little hectic on the ground right now, Fin grinned. They plan to call me back with a pad location in about an hour. Probably one of these.

Southeast corner, give or take. Sun at your back in the morning. Off to your right in the evening.

Choice real estate, reserved for folks that the organizers liked. Fin did appreciate being married to the war goddess who everybody respected. And carrying around one of the sector’s few Players. Went a long ways towards making his world better.

Constanz was studying the map.

Is ten thousand participants an accurate guess? he asked.

Maybe twelve this year, Fin nodded. Lot of the smaller ships loaded up with passengers as well.

Why didn’t we? Constanz asked.

Fin liked the we part. Constanz and his wife were finally settling in and relaxing. Being part of the crew that was an extended family.

Robbing banks or getting kidnapped together would do that.

Partly, we’re a little full already, with all but one of our cabins occupied, he nodded. Sure, we could stuff another eighteen in for a short haul, if we were desperate, but Tessa didn’t want to add any strangers in right now. Plus, a lot of folks will be looking for a ride elsewhere, rather than returning with their current ship. Or wherever it’s headed next.

So we might pick up some travelers? Constanz asked carefully.

Fin appreciated that wariness. Wasn’t like the man and his wife didn’t have stupidly large bounties on their heads or anything like that. Bigger than most of the rest of the crew put together, depending on which planet you visited and how they interpreted requests for arrest from outsiders.

Usually badly.

I find it highly unlikely, Fin replied. Anyone joining us for even a short trip at this point will be vetted carefully by a number of folks. And probably charged an outrageous amount of money for the ride.

He watched the man relax. Anybody getting too close might discover that Constanz was really a woman. That would open an entire Pandora’s Box of trouble in a hurry. Not that such things were impossible, even in Ergrove, though they were a little more common back home in Inleah.

It was where someone might take that knowledge. And the wanted posters that they might suddenly remember.

What do we do at a…moot? Constanz asked.

Trade, Fin said. He went ahead and sat down now across from the man, map between them. He’d refine it some more on the glide path in, then finalize it from the ground. Buy. Sell. Barter. Tell stories. Get drunk. Try new foods. Wyatt will probably disappear a few times. Auntie as well. Dunno if Laney will desire any companionship.

He left off Constanz and Brianna. Married couple, at least on paper. Sisters on the run from the law in the Core. Not the sort of thing you let outsiders know.

Do we have trade goods? Constanz asked, face screwed up in concentration. "I do not recall many boxes in the bay, beyond a few Tessa was apparently hired to carry to Atwick."

Some of it is stored in the smuggler’s compartments, Fin said. Those alembics we picked up, as well as a few slightly used Analytical Engines. A lot more seeds than we can use before they’ll go bad, so we’ll trade those off, as well as maybe pick up a bunch of moss pots for them.

Moss pots?

Fin nodded.

Instead of ceramic or metal, folks mine moss from various places, he said. Dry it out and compact it into shapes. A pot like that, you fill it with dirt and make sure not to overwater it, then you can dig a small hole and slip the whole thing in intact. I need to talk to Wyatt about a few things.

What did I do this time? Wyatt asked as he came forward from the rear. Probably napping in his cabin, as Fin hadn’t heard the man working out with the weights.

Need to build some bombs, big guy, Fin said, turning his head in time to catch the righteous smile on Wyatt’s face.

Who are we blowing up? he asked in a quiet,