“Enough chatting, a pirate said, walking over. Morgan didn’t even bother turning to look at him. “Time to go with the others.”
“She needs medical attention,” Max protested.
Morgan could hear the creak of the pirate’s skinsuit, a shrug perhaps?
“Miner’s doc is in with the rest. She can look her over.”
“Morgan, can you walk?” Max asked.
Morgan tried to stand up, but she only managed to get halfway before stumbling.
She could hear the pirate move closer, but he stopped as Max yelled at him.
“Don’t you dare touch her. I’ll carry her. Take us to your damn prison.”
Morgan wanted to close her eyes, just let him carry her, but she needed to pay attention, watch where they went. Without a map it was her only hope of being able to find her way back to her weapons, if she could manage to escape.
***
It wasn’t a long walk to what was clearly an improvised holding area. The corridor had a small table set up with pirates sitting guard in front of a large room with windows that had, so far as she could tell, only the one exit. She could see some people in the room, but most seemed to be sitting behind some curtains thrown up over the back half the room.
“Put her down,” the lead pirate among their escorts said.
“Why?” Max asked, his tone all but adding the unspoken ‘I’ll fight you if you push me.’
Morgan looked over at the pirate in time to see him roll his eyes.
“Because this is where we’re keeping the women. You get to walk some more.”
“Are you okay to stand?” Max asked Morgan.
“I’ll be okay,” Morgan assured him. “Don’t do anything stupid. If you aren’t in one piece after this, I will never forgive you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Max said, a touch of humor creeping into his voice.
He gently lowered her so that her feet touched the ground first, with him still supporting her back.
“All right, Mr. Gallant,” another pirate said, gesturing down the corridor. “Keep moving.”
“You two, in there,” the first pirate said.
Morgan was still a little light-headed, but otherwise she was feeling more or less fine. Her throat was sure to be bruised, but that she could ignore for the moment. Thirty-four had managed to stun her, bruise her, but nothing more lasting.
As they entered the room, she could hear someone moving about from behind the curtains, and the last woman of their ill-fated boarding party appeared. She too had been stripped of her skinsuit, though at some point she’d found pants to go with her oversized shirt. No shoes, though.
“Susan, I’m glad to see you’re okay,” Marcus said.
Morgan felt a little bad that she hadn’t even taken the time to learn Khatri’s first name, or any of them for that matter, but there really had been too much going on to worry about it.
“I’m a bit less happy to see you, Diya,” Khatri replied. “I was hoping you’d get out of this mess and bring the cavalry.”
“It was a close thing,” Marcus said with a frown. Thirty seconds more and we’d have been on the docking level, had a real chance to get off this bucket.”
“LT, someone do a number on you?” Khatri asked. “Hey,” she said, turning and addressing the rest of that room, “That doc you all mentioned? Probably should grab the captain, too.”
It only took a few moments for the two women named to appear – it wasn’t that large a room, and there didn’t appear to be that many women working on the station, at least if Morgan’s guess as to how many people they needed to work such a large station was at all accurate.
Morgan noted, with a slight tinge of envy, that they were fully dressed, though obviously not in skinsuits.
Stop being silly, Morgan. This is their home. Of course they’d have clothes on hand, besides their suits.
“I take it you’re the officer off STEVE?” Captain Hanover said. Morgan recognized her from the image she’d seen earlier, though there appeared to be a few new lines on her face. “I’m Captain Hanover, and this is Doctor Martinez.”
“I am, Captain. You’re looking well, all things considered.”
“We’ve been captive here for… actually, I’m not sure how long. Weeks, at least. Without our uplinks we have no calendars in here, and they leave the lights on all the time. I haven’t seen any of the men in that time, but if we’re all right, I have to hope they are too.”
Morgan told her the date, and Hanover swore.
“Three and a half weeks? They must really want your ship. Granted, Black capable ships aren’t exactly common, but to hang out here for almost a month? Pull all this to stall you? Hardly seems worth it.”
“What were you able to tell them about STEVE?” Morgan asked, unable to help from frowning. “There are a couple things that could make it worth it, in their eyes, but they’re not exactly common knowledge.”
“I don’t know anything about STEVE, beyond name and basic size. What exactly would be worth all this? More than a ship that size, anyway?”
“One moment,” the other woman said to the captain before turning to Morgan. Doctor Martinez, the captain had named her. “I need to check you over. Your voice sounds strained, there’s bruising already, and your hair looks matted in back. Did you take any blows to the head?”
Morgan reached up to touch the back of her head; there was blood on her hand when she pulled it back.
“When I was thrown to the ground. Mostly it was just his fingers around my throat.”
The woman pulled a small tool from her pocket. It looked like one of the diagnostic tools the doctors had on STEVE, but a bit bulkier, more obviously outdated.
The captain must have seen the look on Morgan’s face, because she explained as the doctor started checking Morgan’s condition.
“They took anything they thought might be used as a weapon, or to help us escape. They let the doc here keep a few things though. Really, I think it was laziness. Easier to let us treat our own for basic stuff than bother themselves with it.”
“Throat is intact, very mild concussion… Do you have some unusual dental work? I’m picking up some metal in your jaw.”
“Oh, that,” Morgan said, snorting. She maneuvered the tool around with her tongue, sticking it out of her mouth where she could grab it with one hand. Holding it up for the others to see she tried to give them an encouraging smile. “I thought this might be handy for escaping with.”
“Indeed,” the captain said. She started to say something else, but the doctor’s worried noises interrupted. Frowning, the captain waited a moment before speaking again. “What is it?”
“The young lady here will be fine. I’m appalled by all the old injuries I’m seeing. When I first saw all the scarring, I assumed it was cosmetic; there are several cultures that go in for that sort of thing. That isn’t the case, is it?”
“No,” Morgan quietly answered. For a moment, she thought about refusing to say anything more, but if anyone would understand the kinds of things she’d gone through, it was these women. After all, they’d been kidnapped by pirates too, hadn’t they? “Reminders of a childhood I ran very far away from.”
“Not far enough, evidently,” the doctor said. “This skull fracture is much newer, barely healed even.”
“That would be the assassins,” Morgan said, shrugging. “Well, the terrorists. They were hired by the assassins.”
Morgan looked around at the shocked looks on all four women’s faces, and decided that maybe they wouldn’t quite understand it all after all.
“I seem to have rather bad luck when it comes to these sorts of things,” Morgan explained. “I grew up on Hillman, which was bad enough, but on my first delivery run with Takiyama my ship was attacked by pirates. Maybe even this very group, actually. Most of them seem to come from the same planet, at least. I took some vacation afterwards, and I ended up getting mixed up with the recent assassinations on Albion. And now this.”
&
nbsp; “Bad luck hardly seems to cover it,” the captain whispered, still looking quite appalled. “How old are you, young lady, to have had such experiences?”
“Old enough,” Morgan said. She was being more open with her fellow prisoners than she’d normally be, but explaining how she was an officer at only eighteen would take too much time, and be annoying besides. “Besides, this is also good news.”
“How can that be good news?” Khatri asked. “I served in the military for eight years and didn’t see a single real fight. Suddenly I feel like a complete greenhorn standing next to a woman who’s what? Half my age?”
“Its good news because I have a plan. The first part is already done, but I don’t know if it worked or not, so now it is time for part two. Honestly, this is going to be easier than I thought. They gave you all the curtains for privacy, I take it?”
The captain and the doctor nodded.
“Great. Can you show me the nearest access hatch behind the curtains?”
“Sure, but what good will that do? You don’t know the station, you have no gear besides that tiny tool, what can you do?” The doctor asked.
“Plenty.”
“You wouldn’t have long. They have us all come out where they can do a head count every so often. We’re due for one soon.”
Morgan thought about that. Not trying wasn’t an option, which left her just two – go now and hurry, or wait until just after the next inspection.
Neither is a great option, but I don’t know how long it will be. If it isn’t for hours yet, that will be too late. There might be one thing that could help, though…
“I should try at once, then. If they come while I’m gone, you can tell them I’m injured, the concussion is bad or something, and that I’m lying down and unconscious. Would they come in here in that case?”
The captain was nodding.
“That could work. A couple weeks ago, one of my techs was ill, and was lying down when they called for an inspection. They didn’t think twice about us saying she was resting in the back.”
“Eck told them you could have a concussion,” Marcus pointed out. “And the doctor can confirm it.”
“She does have a concussion,” the doctor said dryly. “If only a mild one.”
“We wouldn’t be able to send anyone with you,” the captain pointed out. “The corridors are maze-like enough, but the conduits and crawlspaces? I’d not want to crawl through those to get anywhere, and I’ve lived here for ten years.”
“There are flaws in the plan,” Morgan admitted. “But all I have to do is get back to the lift shaft, on this floor.”
“Why there?”
“Because that’s where I stashed my weapons,” Morgan said, a grim smile playing on her lips. “How many pirates are there, anyway?”
The captain was shaking her head.
“We don’t know, not exactly. There was a couple hundred or so when they first boarded us, but the ones we’ve been seeing since were the same twelve men, three to a shift.”
“Three here, three guarding the men at any given time?” Marcus suggested.
“They probably split the men up into two rooms. Men outnumber women on my crew two to one.”
“Okay, so thirty-six guarding. I saw a dozen or so when we were captured. Even if we’re pessimistic and assume there isn’t any overlap, that’s forty-eight.”
“There would be men on the bridge and in the engineering section as well.”
Morgan couldn’t help but shudder as she involuntarily dredged up the scene of carnage on the bridge.
“There were thirteen on the bridge,” Morgan said, her voice sounding a bit flat, even to herself. “Two of them are wounded, the rest dead.”
“Assume sixty, then?” the doctor said. “That’s still far too many.”
“We don’t need to retake the engineering spaces, or the bridge,” Khatri pointed out. “We just need to get to the airlock. STEVE is still docked, and we have more than two hundred mercenaries on board.”
“But doesn’t that just play into their hands?” Marcus asked. “They want hostages to stall us until their ship returns, right? Getting bogged down trying to retake the whole station will take up a lot of time. And if your ship is still here, if we’re still here, when they arrive, then we’re all in trouble. The ship they used is armed.”
“Oh, right, we got a bit off topic, didn’t we?” Morgan said. “I was going to tell you why they might want STEVE – if they know. You see, STEVE has his own gate, and is armed.”
“Well, that changes everything,” the captain said softly. “I’d still rather we all be gone before their ship arrives, but this will improve our odds greatly.”
“Improve, sure,” the doctor said. “I don’t know how far to our favor they’ll be, even then.”
“Which is why I need to try this. It’s a lot better than doing nothing. Show me the access point.”
***
Getting it open took a lot longer than Morgan had planned. After the third cut to her hands as she worked at the bolts holding the crawlspace closed, the doctor had all but ordered her to let others handle it, pointing out that that was the one thing they could do, and Morgan would need her hands to crawl, among other things.
It was a fair point, and it also gave the doctor a chance to apply some quickheal to her throat, head, and the cuts on her hands. Bandages were a bit shorter in supply, but they found enough to wrap her hands.
As Morgan sat on one of the small cots apparently set aside for the doctor, who was seated next to her finishing wrapping her hands, she noticed one of the other cots was occupied, by a smallish woman from the looks of things, buried in blankets.
“What’s her story?” Morgan asked. “The pirates haven’t been hurting any of you, have they?”
“No, and poor thing,” Martinez answered. “When the pirates pulled out of here, they dumped some of their other prisoners here, or maybe even all, we’re not sure. We certainly have plenty of space. Anyway, near as we can figure, her family’s ship was one of the first taken by the pirates. Most of the family got away, we hope, but she and her father were captured.”
“You hope?” Morgan whispered.
Martinez shook her head, answering in an equally low whisper.
“She was on the pirate ship for a number of months before ending up here. If her family did escape, why did no one know about the pirates before now? It’s a safe bet the shuttle they escaped on didn’t have a very powerful transmitter, certainly not enough to reach Zion or Albion from out here, but they’ve had months to get somewhere safe. So where are they?”
“It’s hell, not knowing if your family is safe,” Morgan said, forgetting to whisper as she thought on her own parents, left behind on Hillman.
“You speak from experience, don’t you?” Martinez asked, reaching over to squeeze Morgan’s arm in apparent sympathy. “Such a hard life. It isn’t fair.”
“No, no, it isn’t,” Morgan said, sighing. “In any case, if this plan works, we’ll rescue her along with everyone else, and then we can see about the rest, including her family.”
“You think so?”
Morgan shrugged.
“The pirate’s biggest advantage has been secrecy and surprise. If we can get out there, get the Navy involved, they lose both. Given how they’ve acted, it really isn’t a stretch to assume everyone they’ve run into got captured.”
“Let’s hope. Come on, then,” the doctor said, standing up from the cot. “Let’s see if we can find you some more clothes, or at least some shoes.”
***
They didn’t find her any shoes, unfortunately. None of the women had feet small enough to loan her theirs. As for pants, well, she was out of luck there as well. The only lady short enough to be compatible with Morgan was incredibly skinny as well. When Morgan tried on one of her spare pairs of pants, she felt like one wrong move and her muscles would burst the clothing at the seams, and even then she hadn’t actually managed to get it up and over her rear.
For some reason there didn’t seem to be any of the miners who wore skirts on a space station with old, unreliable gravity plates…
Crouching down, her solitary tool back in her mouth, looking into the almost entirely dark hole pretending to be an ‘easy access’ crawlspace, Morgan could only sigh and wonder why her life always seemed to be contingent on her ability to crawl through small, dark spaces.
They did at least have a flashlight for her. Sort of.
“I use this to check pupil reaction, so it isn’t very powerful,” the doctor said as she handed down the tiny penlight.
“Still better than nothing, thanks.” Turning her head the other way, Morgan addressed the captain. “If this works, plan is I’ll be back here for the rest of you. Hopefully, we can take some weapons off the men at the door at least, and perhaps a few others as well. From there, we head to the airlock.”
“Be careful. Won’t do us any good if you get yourself killed, or even just hurt.”
“I’m keeping that in mind,” Morgan replied. “Be sure to close this behind me as best you can.”
“And if you need to come back out this way?” the captain asked.
“I can always knock. Without the tool,” she stuck it out of her mouth for a moment, “you won’t be able to secure it tight anyway. Just enough so the pirates don’t notice if they come in.”
Morgan turned to enter, but stopped as a new voice called out.
“Wait,” she said, the voice sounding rough, almost as if the speaker had forgotten how to speak, “Take me with ya. I can help.”
Morgan scooted back around to face the room, finding herself looking at a slip of a girl, gaunt and worn, her hair a mess and her eyes haunted, wearing a very patched pair of overalls and a bandeau, plus boots they’d have thrown out on Hillman for being too worn.
“Linda,” Captain Hanover said, gently, “You should lie down. You’re not up to…”
“I’ve rested ‘nuff,” Linda said. “Sleep will just bring more nightmares. If someone has a plan to end this, I want in.”
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