Visions of Peace by Matthew Sprange

stuck on this station for six months before I could raise enough money to leave. Had to live in Downbelow and everything. Wouldn’t wish that on anyone. I can’t have others knowing about this soft spot though, or everyone will want a favour. If you promise to keep our arrangement quiet, I think I can see my clear to giving you, say, four thousand for it?’
    Four thousand? Now that was real money. Not as much as Aston had hoped for but more than he had expected. With four thousand credits, he could do at least most of the updates and repairs needed on his shuttle. Maybe even pick up a new sensor array that would make Mayfield envious.
    ‘I give you my word. No one will know. I told no one up to now and can keep quiet after this.’ He did not notice the man’s extra attention on him as he said this. Shiritori smiled sympathetically and, after keying an instruction to the datapad, slid it across the table, keeping his thumb on one half of the registration interface.
    ‘Give me a thumb print and the money will be deposited into your account immediately.’
    Aston could not do that fast enough.
    ‘Good to do business with you, Mr. Aston. I hope you get to back to Earth space safely. I’ll send some people to your shuttle to pick the fuel cell up within the hour.’
    Shiritori stood with a hand outstretched, and Aston clumsily copied his actions as they shook on the deal. He sat back down as Shiritori walked away and rapidly disappeared among the crowd of the Zocalo. Waving the Brakiri waiter back over, he ordered a beer to go. After all, he could afford it now.
    Hastening back to his rented quarters in Red Sector, Shiritori immediately crossed the living space of the none-too-spacious room and sat down in front of his universal computer link. He first sent an audio-only message to his ship’s crew in the docking port of the station to arrange the pickup of the device he had just bought. He had clocked Aston before they had exchanged more than a few words. One of countless millions in the galaxy trying to scratch a living in space and failing spectacularly. Now the man had thought he hit the big time. In a way, it was a shame he had run into a fence like Shiritori. Still, Aston’s poor luck and judgement might well be Shiritori s fortune. Literally. He had been right in suggesting that Aston might have ended up in Downbelow, but it had not been charity that moved him to make an offer. Not by a long shot. Shiritori had never spent more than a few hours in Downbelow, and then only to track down a debtor or someone who could not travel freely around the station for ‘legal’ reasons. Still, the story had seemed right. He called up the interstellar comm links on his screen and, engaging his personal encryption system, sent a text-only message to his contact in the Centauri Republic.
    Have something interesting. Strange but extremely strong energy emissions. Presumed to be Dilgar design. Two million credits.
     
    June 4th 2263, Quadrant 37
     
    Using a Centauri naming system that had not been repeated since the Republic sprawled across the known galaxy, Quadrant 37 endured a short but violent history. No sentient species had developed on any of the system’s six planets, and only one of the stellar bodies held both an atmosphere and enough mineral resources to make colonisation worthwhile. Its chief value, however, was as a strategic conduit between the Narn Regime and Centauri Republic. Whoever controlled Quadrant 37 had a tangible advantage over the other in the event of war.
    Quadrant 37 was first officially claimed by the Centauri as they began to spread across the galaxy to create their great empire. The Centauri all but ignored it as a worthless system, and they never settled or attempted colonisation. As their empire faltered and began to contract from pressures of other emerging races, the Narn became ascendant, throwing off the shackles of their Centauri oppressors and stretching forth their own hand across the