Origins: The Complete Series

by J. N. Chaney

The holo popped to life, and the blue light glowed as a ship appeared in the distance. They crept through the void, keeping their initial trajectory as the tunnel sealed shut behind them.

  From what I could see, their ship was nearly double the size as the Star, built to house more people in a small space. More importantly it seemed like any other transport vessel. I’d never come across this exact model before, but I’d encountered similar builds at different times. If it was like the others, this clunker was built for long-range hauls and housed about forty passengers.

  But this wasn’t a Union or Sarkonian transport. At least, the readings didn’t list an affiliation.

  And only one type of ship that large would be out here in the nothing with no calling tag.

  Pirates. Or maybe Ravagers.

  Which meant they could probably make my life hell if I wasn’t careful with what came next. “Siggy, verify that ship’s identity. Who owns it?”

  A second later, Sigmond came back with a name. “Captain Orlinias Metoria.”

  “And the ship itself? Do you have any history for it?”

  “It is called the Fat Ladle. There are two recent references to it in the gal-net, dated a few days ago.”

  “Let’s hear them.”

  “The first is from the Ortesia Tribune. It reads: during a standard delivery, the Fat Ladle, a cargo ship owned by the Three Artisans Company, LLC, went missing after leaving port. It is believed to have vanished after exiting slipspace tunnel 722101.”

  “And the second?” I asked, after a moment.

  “The settlement of Lesper has been attacked by a group of pirates. Reports are suggesting that the attacking ship was the Fat Ladle, a former cargo vessel owned by the Three Artisans Company, LLC. It was believed that the ship had been destroyed, but it seems it was merely taken and repurposed. No word yet on the whereabouts of the captain and his crew, but given recent attacks near the system in question, we believe there to be no survivors at this time.”

  I let out a long sigh then leaned back and looked up. “I can’t catch a godsdamn break. Siggy, do they see us?”

  “Unknown, sir. But I am detecting no incoming transmissions from the vessel. Shall I hail them?”

  “Absolutely not,” I said. “Let’s just pass by all anonymous-like. Far as they know, we’re travelers using the same system on our way from one end of the galaxy to the other. No use getting tangled up with pirates if we can help it.”

  As the ship propelled closer, more details appeared on the holo. I studied it as we angled above them, hoping that they had just had a big haul and would leave me alone.

  “Sir, the pirate vessel has changed speed. It appears they are attempting to scan us.”

  So much for that.

  “Are they priming their weapons?”

  “It does not appear so, but I still would caution against allowing yourself to fall within weapons range.”

  “You and me both, Siggy. What about their shields?”

  “Their shields are holding, sir.”

  “Then we’ve got to assume they’re here for a fight. Power up our weapons. Maybe a show of force will be enough to get them to back down.”

  I angled the ship away from the pirates, my body stiff in the tense silence as I changed our course by a few degrees—trying to give them an opportunity to get lazy and leave me alone. Fighting them wasn’t part of the job, and another expensive repair was the last thing I needed.

  “What are they doing, Siggy?” I asked.

  “They have adjusted their course to intercept us, sir.”

  “Godsdammit,” I snapped. “Open a channel.”

  “Of course, sir, but I must caution you that historically encounters with pirates from this region tend to result in combat. They seem to avoid diplomacy.”

  “It’s worth a try,” I decided. “Open the line, Siggy.”

  “Channel active,” replied Sigmond.

  “This is Captain Jace Hughes of the Renegade Star. Might I inquire as to what the hell you folks are doing?”

  A video feed of a man standing cross-armed on a large bridge appeared on the holo before me. He had a cocky grin on his face—the sort of smile I usually wanted to punch after a few too many drinks in a bar. “Captain Hughes, huh? I don’t give a shit who you are. Your ship is mine, and I’m going to give you a choice. You can either die in it, or you can surrender. Doesn’t matter to me which. I don’t mind a little blood on the walls. Gives the space some character.”

  Character my ass. I didn’t mind a little blood either, but it damn sure wasn’t going to be mine. Not if I could help it.

  “I’m not sure I like those options much. I’ll tell you what, though. How about you go about your way and leave me to it? Do that, and I promise to mind my own business.”

  He chuckled. “You’re a funny one.”

  I shrugged. “Last chance. Stand the hell down, asshole.”

  “Looks like you want to die, then,” the man said. “Fine by me. I won’t warn you again.”

  I shook my head. Why did people always have to start shit with me? If they just left me alone, things would be easier for everyone all around. I was just an honest Renegade, after all, trying to make a living. It wasn’t like I started trouble. I just happened to find it.

  “Close the channel,” I ordered.

  The cocky face of the pirate disappeared just as his ship ignited its thrusters and began moving in my direction once again.

  “Communication terminated,” said Sigmond.

  I couldn’t lie. Part of me wondered if they somehow knew about the data stick on board, but I figured that was unlikely. The Deadlands was a dangerous place, and it was a lot more likely that I’d just happened across pirates who wanted to kill me and take my ship.

  Luck of the draw.

  My fingers tightened around the controls as the pirates neared. I had seconds to think of a plan.

  If I could evade their weapons, I might be able to make it to the SG Point and slip into the tunnel without getting a scratch on me—but, of course, they could always just follow.

  I had to end this before it got ugly.

  “Okay, Siggy. Get ready. Looks like we’re in for nasty fight.”

  9

  I waited until they were barely within firing range before launching a series of missiles. My seat vibrated as four of them left the Renegade Star.

  “They are taking evasive maneuvers, sir,” reported Sigmond. “The enemy vessel has deployed flak.”

  The Star shook as the enemy’s guns opened fire on us, peppering me with long range bullet fire. The shields flickered violently as I dove forward, attempting to outpace them.

  “Shields are holding,” the AI reported.

  At the same time, the missiles collided with the flak the other ship had released, causing them to explode. On the other side, the enemy ship came into view, and the holo chimed with an indicator that I had a direct line of fire.

  I squeezed the trigger, unleashing a single blast from the quad cannon.

  A flash of white, followed by ripples of shattered shield energy, told me I’d made a direct hit.

  “You can still walk away from this,” I transmitted.

  The other ship gave no response, not that I’d expected anything different.

  “They have launched missiles,” reported Sigmond. “Deploying flak.”

  One of their missiles veered hard to my left, confused by the exploding ordnance Sigmond had released, but the other continued directly toward the cockpit. I waited until the last possible second and banked hard to the right. It still hit, but it was a glancing blow rather than a direct one. As we passed each other, I opted for something a little more subtle: a mine.

  With the enemy about to overtake us, I banked hard to the opposite direction, attempting to draw them in. They took the bait, giving chase and firing ahead of my position, their shots landing along my shield and weakening it by a small percentage.

  The mine exploded right as they neared its proximity. The s
hip’s shields shattered like broken orange glass in the darkness, creating an opening through which I might attack.

  “Time to bring us around,” I snapped.

  I pulled the control stick hard and killed the engine, then I swung us around and reignited thrusters, quickly reversing direction. As I did, the enemy vessel began to move away.

  “Where are they off to?”

  “I believe they are attempting to flee,” replied Sigmond.

  “Fat chance of that. You don’t screw with my ship and limp off the field. Move to intercept their ass.”

  The Star was faster than a cargo ship, so catching up took less than two minutes. The slip tunnel entrance was still a five minute flight, which meant I had them.

  “The enemy craft is scanning us, sir,” the AI told me, followed by a short pause. “Incoming transmission.”

  “Put it through.”

  There was no visual this time. Just the audio. I accepted it, still maintaining my flight pattern. “I need you to ease back a second, Hughes,” the man said. “Look, we’re only here because we were hired to stop your ship. You’ve got something that somebody wants.”

  “Something somebody wants?” I repeated. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You stole something, that’s all, and they want it back. We got called in to pick you up, but...we’re not interested. Take it and go. We’re done here.”

  “Done? No, we’re done when you tell me who your boss is and what you think you’re after,” I told him. “What sort of cargo do you think I’m carrying?”

  The details were important. Maybe they knew about the stick, but I didn’t know that for sure.

  “All I know is that you’ve got data worth more than that ship. Don’t know the details, but I know you’ve got it. I was, uh, also authorized to pay you for it.”

  “Pay me for it?” I scoffed. “Why the hell didn’t you say that before you started firing at me? Oh, let me guess. You aimed to pocket the credits, is that it? Keep the pay and pull your trophy from the scrap?”

  “You act like you wouldn’t do the same. I’ve met a few Renegades. I know how you operate. You’d cut your own daddy’s throat for a credit, same as us.”

  I snickered. “You might be right about that one, and probably about me keeping that money, but you’re the one at the wrong end of a quad cannon and no shield to stop it.”

  “Just stand down and I’ll give you the money. The offer is still there. We can make the exchange right now.”

  “How much are we talking?” I asked, pretending to think it over

  “Ten thousand. That has to be more than you’re getting paid, right?”

  He was right about that, and I certainly needed the money to pay off my debts and upgrade this ship, but there were other factors besides money to contend with. “I’m afraid I can’t renege on a job like that,” I responded. “Not after signing with a brand new agent so recently. You know how bad I’d look? Besides, buddy, you shot at me, and I just can’t abide someone who tries to hurt my ship.”

  I cut the channel. “Siggy, target their engines.” With my finger over the trigger, I leaned closer to the holo, observing the narrowing distance between the Renegade Star and the other ship. The target image of the other vessel changed to indicate I was clear to fire.

  “Target locked,” the AI reported.

  Without another word, and right as we neared their aft section, I fired the quad cannon toward the enemy ship. It struck, puncturing their hull with relative ease and causing a blast so powerful it tore the ship in two.

  The rear section separated from the rest, releasing dust and shards of scrap into the void. The largest piece of the vessel drifted in the direction it had been going, turning over on itself. No doubt, many had just died in my attack, but these were killers and thieves. They had attacked settlements and civilian trade ships, murdering and plundering whoever they’d found to be weak.

  They were lucky I didn’t finish them off here and now. But I’d done enough. Odds of survival out here were slim, but possible.

  “Enemy ship is disabled, sir,” Sigmond said. “I am still detecting life signs. Would you like to continue the attack?”

  The temptation to finish the job was present in my mind, but I resisted the urge to fire another volley. We were in the middle of nowhere. If anyone survived this, it would be days before someone stopped to help. Maybe longer if they realized who these people were or what they’d done. If any of them survived this ordeal, it would have been punishment enough.

  That, and I didn’t feel like wasting another missile. I wasn’t made of money.

  I allowed myself a moment to relax as I got us back on course. I could feel the effects of adrenaline in my system—the knots in my muscles and my rapid breathing. “You did good, Siggy,” I finally said.

  “Thank you, sir. You also did well.”

  I said nothing. The image on the holo of the drifting ship took any semblance of satisfaction out of the air. Between the Union and the Sarkonians, the galaxy had enough to worry about, but here there were pirates, Ravagers, and killers. The Deadlands was a place to live free, but that didn’t always mean one could live well.

  Part of me wanted it to all go away, to have it cleaned up and made safe, but then I’d be out of a job. I was a Renegade, just a smuggler and a thief paid well to take what wasn’t mine. Sure I had a code. Don’t kill anyone who wasn’t trying to kill me. Don’t take jobs that might hurt good folk. All of that, but I was still an outlaw. Without the Deadlands, I’d have nothing.

  I’d be nothing.

  The last slip tunnel brought us out in the middle of nowhere. It looked like the darkest corner of the galaxy, far removed from any stars or nebulae.

  “Siggy, where the heck are we?”

  “Star system 29319-b.”

  “Is there only one slip tunnel in and out of this system?”

  “That is correct.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. It made me feel cornered, like anything could happen if I wasn’t careful. If four or five ships—or one really big one—came through the slip tunnel behind us, all they’d have to do is block the exit to leave us completely exposed.

  “Scan the area,” I ordered.

  “A scan has already been completed, sir. I detect no ships within sensor range.”

  “Of course not,” I said, almost mocking myself. “Who the hell would want to come out here? There’s no star, no planets. Just a bunch of space dust. Are you sure you’re not seeing anything? What a waste of a slip tunnel.”

  A nervous pit began to form in my gut. Wherever I was, I didn’t like it, and I couldn’t shake the jitters.

  “Probably best if we move a bit out of range of the tunnel, just in case our contact comes in hot with a tail.”

  “Excellent idea, sir.”

  I brought the Star to a safe distance away from the tunnel entrance and cut the engines. I didn’t have my own cloaking device—yet—but I’d be damned if my heat signature prevented me from getting the drop on whoever came through the tunnel to meet me.

  As I reclined in my seat, I looked at the data stick still lying on the scanner before I tugged the fake one out of my pocket. I tapped it against my leg, staring at it, wondering what I’d ultimately end up deciding.

  To steal, or not to steal: not the Renegade’s usual dilemma.

  “Give me an update on the fake data stick, Siggy,” I ordered. “You’re sure they won’t know the difference?”

  “Not unless they verify it during the delivery,” answered Sigmond. “If they have the means of checking the intelligence files in depth before the handoff is complete, then yes, they will be able to detect the fake.”

  It was a risk, but one that might be worth taking.

  My point of contact would arrive at any moment, hopefully, so I grabbed some jerky. It wasn’t exactly fine dining, but once I got my payout, I’d have a nice steak dinner. Better than the slop I had on my ship, no question, and maybe I could splurge
by restocking the fridge with something more than fruit and mystery meat.

  Such was the glamorous life of a Renegade.

  After sitting there for nearly an hour, it occured to me that I’d forgotten to ask Ollie a very important question: how long would I need to wait?

  The correct answer was, of course, as long as it took for the person or people receiving the item to show up, but it would’ve been nice to have a better time frame. That way I’d know if it might be safe for me to get some sleep. If I had to sit here for another ten hours, I’d have a whole new set of problems to contend with.

  Instead, I was stuck in my chair with no escape but the thoughts inside my head. How did the old saying go? A king and a peasant were the same when locked in a room alone for too long. Something like that.

  If things didn’t start happening here soon, I’d wind up reflecting on mortality and the meaning of existence.

  And who wanted that?

  I spun the fake data stick absently between my fingers as my thoughts raced through what might be coming my way. It could be a private corporation, though I doubted anyone within the Union territories and planets had the balls to steal from their own government like this.

  For all I knew, the Union would speed through the slip tunnel at any moment and try to arrest me.

  The more I sat in the silence, the more certain I became that I didn’t want the real data stick to be sitting out in plain view.

  I shoved the fake one in my pocket and grabbed the real one off the scanner, careful not to switch them. The real one was sleek and black, while the fake one had a silver strip down one side. Easy enough for me to spot, and hopefully too subtle for anyone else to notice.

  I’d have to take a chance on being away from the cockpit for a few minutes, but hell, it was worth it. I needed to store this in the hidden compartment down in the cargo bag, both as an insurance measure and for my own sanity.

  “Siggy, do you have enough data to make an educated guess who the buyer might be?” I asked as I unbuckled my harness and, with the data stick in hand, moved into the hall.

  “It’s unclear, sir,” answered Sigmond. “Mr. Trinidad unfortunately didn’t have any leads or clues to offer us. The stick has passed through too many hands to know for certain who may have bought it. Or, for that matter, who may have stolen it.”