by Paul Grover
The Frontier troops took up defensive positions and fired a volley of laser fire over the heads of the crowd.
Mira estimated the mob contained fifty to a hundred people; not all were dressed in gang uniform. Two more troopers disembarked from the APC and took up supporting stations.
“Hoff, bring everyone up. We go when Reece says so,” Mira shouted over the noise.
“You’re in charge, little man,” she said, squeezing the kids shoulder. His grimy face came alive with excitement.
“Rickard’s boys will try to goad the Feds into attacking Vine’s crew. It will happen quickly. Be ready”
The kid was street smart and good at reading situations; it had been a lucky meeting for them both.
She instructed her charges to buddy up. Shannon helped Meyer; Hofner was with Benson. Mira moved to the back of the line.
The disturbance flared into a riot. Gang members were assailing the Frontier troops with iron bars and bottles; the occasional sound of laser weapons echoed off the steel walled chamber. The Frontier troops were restrained yet returned fire without hesitation. The men on the balcony looked on, not partaking in the violence but hurling abuse at their rivals.
“Now!” Reece called.
He led them to the far side of the market. The troops and rioters were both to their left. They made good progress, darting from one area of cover to another.
Benson broke from the group and made for the lead trooper. His hands were raised above his head and he was shouting something, his words drowned by the mob. The Shock Trooper raised his weapon as Benson brandished his Senate ID card, it swung on a blue and white lanyard.
The trooper ushered him into the APC, Benson pointed in Mira’s direction and toward the docks.
A bottle smashed on the bulkhead above Mira’s head, glass rained down on her.
Mira turned.
“Forget him, keep moving!”
“I hope this does not come down to shooting,” Hoff said. “If it does are you armed?”
Mira pulled her jacket aside to expose the 1000 watt sidearm.
“Is that it?”
“I didn’t think we were going to war, Hoff,” she snapped.
“Fair play, I said a similar thing after the first Martian deployments.”
The access corridor was ahead. A glowing yellow sign identified it as “Route 2B - Piers 80-99. Light Cargo and Passengers”. The customs checkpoint was unmanned, presumably the staff on duty had decided it was a good time for a coffee break.
Mira glanced behind her. The men on the balcony were tossing stun grenades into the market square. The Frontier soldiers lost their patience and fired into the crowd. Forming a skirmish line, they moved forward, crushing any resistance they met. Civilians and gang members scattered in every direction.
“Now is our chance. Everyone move as fast as you can. Reece can you lead the way with Shannon?”
She let each of her charges pass her and once they were safely heading for the ship she broke cover and followed.
Mira took a final look behind her. The riot had turned into a massacre. It spurred her on and she ran after her people.
The run to the ship was a third of a kilometre. The corridor was curved and dimly lit. A flickering sign directed her to Pier 83. Reece was standing at the gate.
“They are all on board, Mira. We did it!” he said. “Those oldies moved quicker than I thought. They were proper shitting themselves when it kicked off!” he said with a grin. Reece was bouncing with excitement. Mira felt it too.
She could get to like this kid.
“Why are you waiting? You should have gone ahead.”
He looked at the deck and shuffled.
“I wanted to make sure you were safe, besides I might not get on the ship without you to vouch for me. People don’t trust street kids.”
“Tish would.”
The clatter of boots on the deck interrupted her. A laser weapon fizzed. The heat of the discharge burned her cheek as it passed. Reece took the blast in the chest. He tumbled backwards, falling to the deck. Mira’s perception of time stretched as she watched the kid fall. Blood jetted from the scorched hole in his chest. The low gravity and thin air made it spray in a high arc, hitting her on the side of her face.
She whirled. Anger boiled as rationality evaporated. Four D37 operators were running toward her. Their black armour made them stand out against the light-grey walls. Mira screamed, rage conquering her fear. She ran toward them, raised her weapon and fired, dropping the first. Three blasts ripped past her, singeing her hair. Mira fired twice, dropping two more.
The sole remaining operator stopped and raised his weapon. Mira locked eyes with him and fired.
A fraction of a second later an energy bolt slammed into her shoulder. She stumbled and fell. The stench of burnt leather and flesh hit her nostrils. Through fading vision she saw the final trooper tumble backwards.
She hit the deck and everything went black.
CHAPTER NINE
LIGHT rippled above her, shimmering beyond her reach. It was as if she swam in the depths of an ocean, surrounded by dark, cold water. She was trying to claw her way back to the surface. No matter how hard she tried the light appeared ever more distant.
She sensed a presence. A calm peace blanketed the sadness and fear.
Wake up, Mira.
The voice was familiar.
A silent, powerful force pushed her back to a world of colour, light and pain.
Mira was being carried. Her senses were dull. She could make out voices, words coalesced into sentences.
“Otto can you fly? Mira has a partner but we need two people to fly the ship.”
Shannon Wade, that’s Shannon Wade. She must think I’m a total dick.
Another more focused thought tumbled into her mind. I killed seven people today. Reece, the kid, I killed eight people and one was innocent.
She groaned and opened her eyes.
“I’m okay,” she said. They were almost at the ship.
“You took a hell of a hit. You have no business being conscious Thorn,” Hoff said. “You were never one for rules, were you?”
“Reece?” she asked.
A look passed between Shannon and Hoff. It told her all she needed to know.
“Is he on the ship? I promised I would get him out of here.”
“Ben and your marine friend took care of him. I’m sorry, Mouse…” Hofner said, his voice soft and laced with sadness.
She shook off their support.
“I can walk. I’m okay.” She drew air between her teeth as the world swam in a red haze of burning pain.
Shannon continued to support her elbow. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked.
Mira bit down on her lip. “Yes.”
She studied the impact area. Her jacket was burned just above her collarbone. Through the hole she could feel a damp, deep burn. She drew her fingers away; they were bloody and wet.
“It was a glancing blow but it’s still a third-degree burn,” Shannon said. “You need medical attention.”
Mira put one foot in front of the other. She picked up speed and was soon lurching toward the ship in an approximation of a run.
“No time; let’s get moving,” she gasped.
Tish stood in the airlock. Her ashen face glistened with sweat.
“Stop doing this Mira,” she said as the hatch slammed closed.
Mira checked everyone was aboard.
“I can fly. I’m fine.” She stared into Tish’s blue eyes. “He was ten, Tish. Ten fucking years old and those bastards shot him.”
Tish put a hand on Mira’s cheek.
“Mira let Otto fly the ship. You are in no state.”
“I’ll do it. I have to do it.”
Mira hit the airlock control and sealed the inner hatch. It slammed closed, putting another sheet of titanium between her and the station.
Tish took hold of Mira and helped her to the flight deck.
Mira was sweating as she
took the pilot’s seat, breathing in gasps. She bit her tongue to stifle a cry.
“I’m okay!” she said before Tish could ask. “Trust me, I’ll explain later… Let me get us out of here.”
Tish reached up and started the engines before reaching over Mira’s head to engage the sensor suite.
“Fuck the checklist!” Tish said. “Just this once.”
Mira called up control.
“Phobos Control, this is GK-63812 Second Chance, requesting clearance. We are outbound for the Belt.”
There was a pause.
“Negative Second Chance all traffic movements are suspended due to local disturbances. Please shut down your vessel and prepare for inspection.”
“Control, we were ramp checked on arrival. We decided that with all the trouble you guys are having we would head on out.”
“Second Chance, what you may or may not have decided is immaterial. The station is in lock down. Permission denied, shut down and open your outer locks.”
“Disengage the couplings,” Mira said.
There was a clunk as the umbilicus retracted and the ship edged away from the pier.
“Second Chance! Stop your vessel at once…”
Mira closed the channel. “It was a boring conversation, anyway.”
Tish used the manoeuvring thrusters to move the ship away from the gantry. Mira engaged the main engines, pointed the ship toward open space and increased their relative velocity.
“Are we still working under the fuck the checklist protocol?” Mira asked.
“For now.” Tish had her head down, studying her consoles.
Mira programmed a course away from Phobos, heading for the asteroid belt before working up an FTL plot.
“I have three gunships inbound at speed,” Tish reported. “They’re on their way up from low orbit, closing fast.”
The pursuing ships could trace their jump based on the energy signature they left behind. Hyperspatial envelopes travelled in straight lines so the pursuers would know which direction they had jumped; the energy footprint would give an indication of distance, combining the two would allow the security forces to extrapolate their destination.
Mira plotted a short jump to the Kuiper Belt, from there she would plot another to the Frontier. The ship rocked as the shields were hit by incoming fire.
“How long before we can jump?” she asked Tish.
“Thirty seconds. We are being hailed on all channels. I’m ignoring them.”
“Good, I’m about to break another law; we’re jumping inside the orbit of Neptune.”
“You’re a real pirate now, Thorn!”
Three more shots hit the shields.
“Down to 25% Mira. Clear in 3,2,1…”
Mira built an envelope and jumped the ship.
She shivered and wiped cold sweat from her brow. Her shoulder throbbed. “I’m sorry Reece,” she murmured.
She sensed movement on the flight deck her. Shannon stood in the doorway holding a med kit. Hoff was behind her.
“I want to dress that wound Mira. If we are heading to the Frontier you can’t risk infection. Let Hoff… Senator Hofner… take over.”
“Hoff is fine, Shannon,” he said squeezing past her. “I wish the circumstances were different, it is exciting to fly a ship again.”
Mira managed a half smile. She could relate to that.
She stood then staggered. Hofner helped her regain her footing.
“Tish, plot a course for Baikonur. We have to refuel and resupply, may as well be there.”
Even she could hear the exhaustion in her voice as she hauled herself aft, pushing away Shannon’s offer of help.
Mira took off her jacket and let Shannon cut the material of her flight suit away. She blushed and covered herself as it fell to the floor. During the war, shared bathrooms and shower blocks had never bothered her. She wondered when she had become so prudish.
Back then you didn’t have your teenage idol looking at your tits.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Shannon said.
“No it's just… I was a Rocket Punk when I was a kid. I had a trial for the Southern African Team. I wrote to you asking for advice. I couldn’t believe it when you wrote back. I know it was a stock response, but you wrote on it…”
“If you’ve got it, flaunt it,” Shannon replied. “I remember, well sort of.”
Mira blushed. “I scanned your message. Those words were on every flying helmet I ever had.”
Shannon continued to clean the wound. Each brush of the swab burned as much as the blast. Mira gritted her teeth, sucking down air and suppressing the need to flinch.
“Mira, this wound, I could have sworn it was deeper.”
The wound was an angry red groove burned into the tissue of her shoulder. Shannon was working to remove charred skin and foreign matter from the edges. Mira winced as the SteriGel stung the exposed flesh.
“Heat of the moment, I guess,” Mira lied.
“Okay,” Shannon replied. “It is still a mess. You were lucky.”
Reece wasn’t. I should have taken that shot. I would have healed. Maybe not, but I would have stood more of a chance.
Shannon worked for a few minutes.
“It might surprise you but I know who you are. After your crash your picture was all over UniNet. When I saw my words on your helmet, I looked you up. You achieved far more than I ever did. All I did was race JetSuits.” She tore off the surgical tape with a snap. “All done!”
Mira rolled her shoulder and winced. She was certain she had been hit with a high wattage energy weapon. She had no right to be breathing, so figured she would settle for a sore shoulder.
“Mira, I’m a recovering booze hound with three failed marriages to my credit. I’m flawed just like anyone else. We’re all human.”
I hope so, Mira thought.
“You should rest,” Shannon said, her voice gentle.
Mira found a t-shirt and pulled it on then changed into a pair of lace up black jeans. She studied the hole in her jacket, put it on and vowed to patch it.
“We have a lot to do. It’s a long trip to Mizarma. I’ll get rack time when I can.” She paused and gazed at Shannon, taking in her statuesque height and broad shoulders. There were a few wrinkles on her brow, crow’s feet around her eyes and the edges of her full lips but she still had that certain something. A tingle rippled over Mira's skin, followed by a pang of guilt in her gut.
“Thanks, Shannon. Have you found a cabin yet?”
“Not yet, I’ll bunk down anywhere you can fit me in.”
“I’ll show you around the ship. We have no shortage of cabin space, so pick the one that suits. Tish can print out basic clothes. They’ll be flight suits but she has quite a flair for design so they won’t be dull. We’ll stock up properly at Baikonur.”
Shannon packed away the med kit and followed Mira toward the crew lounge.
The whirring of the air scrubbers sounded too loud on silent flight deck. Mira stood behind Tish and Hoff, supporting herself on the headrests of their seats. Tish flipped the ship to look back toward the sun; this far out it was nothing more than a bright, distant star.
The HUD displayed a representation of the ecliptic and the position of the planets. A blinking marker denoted Earth’s location, so distant it could not be seen with the naked eye.
Mira put her hands on Tish’s shoulders. Homesickness clouded her thoughts with a dark melancholy she could not shake.
“We were so close, Tish. I wanted to show you the desert. The sky back home is big and blue. You would love it. I’m sorry…”
“We have all the time in the universe, Mira,” Tish said, squeezing her hand.
“This ship will be on every Frontier hot list,” Hofner interrupted.
“Don’t worry Mr Hoff. I can reprogram the transponder, give us a new ident code and home port, even a new name,” Tish said.
Mira tried to conceal her shock. Transponders fried their cores if anyone interfered with them.
“Okay, keep the name Tish; it’s important.”
Ship names on vessels like their Kobo were optional and never registered. It was not unusual to encounter multiple vessels with the same name, especially if popular. Back on the Berlin there was a saying: “every other ship is a Jessica.” Girls’ names were favoured by independents and Jessica was a current name of choice.
“Hold off on the jump, Hoff. I have to say goodbye to Reece.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. The vision of the kid falling to the deck jumped to the forefront of her mind. She turned and walked aft.
Tish caught up with her. “You’re not alone Mira.”
She took Tish’s hand and walked through the lounge and toward the lower deck.
“I know… but… Tish, I think my problems are still with me. I’m… unstable… scared.” She paused. “It starts quietly. In the past I found ways of blocking it out… booze, drugs, sex. She's in my mind again… Shadow Me. She gets more powerful the more I ignore her…”
Tish put an arm around her.
“It’s okay,” she said. “Doctor Monica gave me a supply of your meds and instructions on how to use them. I’ll help you kick Miss Hyde out of your mind.”
It took a few seconds for the reference to sink in. Mira realised she had reached out for help and someone had been there for her. It felt good.
They walked in easy silence to the lower deck.
Vanessa Meyer stood beside the airlock’s inner hatch.
“I wanted to be here,” she said. “Taking nothing from your efforts Mira, the boy was the reason we got off that station.”
Mira made no reply. She blinked away a tear.
Heroics, nothing but a shortcut to an early death.
She walked to the airlock and peered through the thick window. Between the warning chevrons painted on the glass she could see the tiny form wrapped in a white sheet. A Martian flag was draped over the kid’s body.
“Does anyone want to say anything?” Mira asked in a hoarse whisper.
