by J. N. Chaney
“Yeah,” I muttered as I passed by the lounge located right outside the cockpit and continued to the rear of the ship. “I was just hoping you noticed something I didn’t.”
“I’m afraid not,” confessed the AI. “My apologies, sir.”
The hum from the engine room added a little more vibration to the railing as I passed by and rounded the corner to the cargo bay. “Well, who would want to use it?”
The answer, of course, was everyone. Everyone could benefit from this data, even me, but I valued my life too much to crack into it just yet.
After taking the stairs to the lower deck of the bay, I turned around to see the large wall beneath the overhead platform. When Fratley had sold me the ship, he’d shown this to me before anything else, knowing full well I’d utilize it.
And I had. More than once, in fact, and right now I was glad to have it.
This ship had a few different hidden compartments sprinkled throughout the cabins and cockpit, built for reasons I’d never know, by men I’d never meet. Or maybe they’d been added much later. I couldn’t say, and I didn’t much care. All that mattered right now was that they were useful.
“Open the hidey hole, Siggy,” I ordered, looking up at the overhead speaker in the corner on impulse.
The lock disengaged with a quiet snick, and the wall began to raise. I fidgeted while I waited, mostly because I had to take a piss, and briefly wondered if drinking that third cup of coffee was such a good idea.
“Compartment open, sir,” informed the AI.
It was mostly empty, save for an empty crate secured to the far wall and a small silver case placed within it to secure smaller items. I grabbed the small case and flipped open the lid before setting the real data stick in the center.
I shut the silver case and stored it in the crate for extra protection. The last thing I needed was for my insurance policy to break during a rough landing. Putting this here made me feel a little more relaxed.
“Close it, Siggy,” I ordered as I stepped out of the secret compartment.
As the door closed, I watched it seal. The line faded into the wall, seamless and invisible. To think I had the kind of data in there that governments would kill for still set me on edge, and I decided to head back up to the cockpit with the fake one still in my pocket.
The last thing I wanted was to be away from the controls at the wrong time.
10
I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep until Sigmond’s voice woke me.
“Sir, I am detecting slipspace activity,” said the AI. “A rift is forming.”
I sat up in my seat, hands flying over the controls as I tried to get my bearings. I had to blink several times before I could even see the telltale green of the slip.
What came out wasn’t what I’d expected. There was no armada. No Union ship coming to blow holes in the Star. I’d been toying with the motivation for this heist, and I’d thought perhaps the Union would’ve lied, maybe even pretended the Sarkonians had stolen some tech so they could incite a war. Or maybe it really would be a corporation of some kind—a weapons manufacturer or a shell company pretending to make meat sticks or scented candles when in reality they were making things to blow other things up.
Instead, it was a Sarkonian ship. Hardly what I expected to see way out here in the middle of nowhere.
“Shall I arm the quad-cannons, sir?” asked Sigmond as the vessel approached.
“No, gods no, Siggy. You’ll get us both killed. Look at the size of that thing.”
I sat back in my seat, glaring at the Sarkonian vessel as it drifted through space.
I’d expected trouble, but this was hell.
One of two things was happening here. Either the Sarkonians had blown my contact to hell and wanted to detain me for being involved in illegal actions, or they were my contact.
I wasn’t sure which scenario was worse.
With the fake data stick still in my pocket, I froze, wondering which one I should give them. The Sarkonians weren’t the kind of people a man usually survived encounters with, and I didn’t have a lot to go on—just the knowledge that they preferred to shoot first and ask questions later.
If they knew about the data stick, that little hunk of metal was probably the only reason I was still alive.
“Sir,” said Sigmond. “The Sarkonian vessel has altered its trajectory and is headed this way, despite our lack of a heat signature.”
I didn’t move because that didn’t surprise me at all. Out here in the middle of nowhere, turning off my engines had only given me a momentary advantage. Of course, in these sorts of interactions, a momentary advantage could mean the difference between life and death.
The question, of course, was what they would do next.
“Activate the engines,” I ordered.”
“Activating engines,” said Sigmond. “Sir, we are receiving an incoming communication from the vessel. Shall I open the channel?”
“Yes, put it on.” I gestured for him to hurry so we could move this along.
“Greetings,” a gravelly voice said through the cockpit speakers.
“Where’s the video feed, Siggy?” I asked.
“There isn’t one, sir.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose in irritation. That was a bad sign.
“It’s not often we see traffic this far from civilization,” the male voice continued. “What brings you to this remote region?”
“Strange,” I muttered, too softly for the mic to pick up.
Usually, Sarkonians were obnoxious when they first made contact. Their obsession with protocol and making demands was infamous, and yet this one hadn’t so much as told me his name.
Their name, their ship’s name, and then a demand to surrender—that was essentially the script all Sarkonians worked from, and yet this man seemed fairly secretive.
It definitely lended credence to the idea that he was my contact after all.
For a moment, I didn’t speak. I had to play my cards right. If this was my contact, he wouldn’t be the first to admit as much. If he was just a Sarkonian ship in the wrong place at the wrong time, however, I couldn’t risk him finding out what I had on board.
Usually at this point in the conversation, I’d give my name and my vessel’s name. It was all standard procedure out here among the stars.
But when transporting and delivering stolen cargo, the rules changed.
“I have to admit this is a bit of a surprise,” I said calmly, even as my fingernails dug into the armrest of the pilot’s chair. “I never expected to see a Sarkonian ship out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Usually we wouldn’t be,” the man said. “But it seems we’ve lost something important, and we’ve had a hell of a time finding it.”
“Interesting. I’m in this area to meet a friend,” I said, doing my best to keep my tone level and calm. “I found something he lost. Just wanted to give it back.”
“Sir,” said Sigmond through the comm in my ear to give us privacy. “The Sarkonian vessel is initiating a scan of the ship.”
“You can stop the scan,” I snapped at whoever was talking to me through the open channel. “And I think both of us can drop the act, too.”
The stranger laughed. “Fair enough. I don’t suppose you’ll tell us who you are?”
“That’s definitely a no.”
“Then tell me immediately how many people are on board your ship,” he demanded.
Ah, there it was. The telltale authoritarian demands of another Sarkonian officer high on power.
If he’d finished his scan of my ship, he knew I was the only one on board. I could guarantee he wasn’t the only one on a ship that size. He wanted to know if I was going to lie.
Hell yeah I was going to lie. If they knew for sure there was only one person on the Star, I was dead, and we all knew it. Well, no one could ever claim I led a boring life, that was for sure.
“Eight, including me,” I told him. “It’s a little snug, but we’re all f
riends here.”
“I suggest you tell me the truth,” he snapped. “Our scans indicate that—”
“Your scans showed you what I wanted you to see, boss,” I warned him. “I haven’t lived this long in such a cutthroat line of work without a few tricks up my sleeve. You try anything during the handoff, and I can make your life hell. Let’s keep this friendly, shall we?”
For a moment, he didn’t speak. I half-expected his weapons to activate, and for this mess to end in a firestorm. From what I’d heard, Sarkonians didn’t like being told what to do.
While I waited for him to say something—or try to blow me up—I didn’t so much as breathe. The entire outcome of this whole experience relied on what he did next.
“Very well,” he finally said. “A transport vessel is leaving my ship now. Greet them when they arrive. They have orders not to harm you or your vessel unless we find something we do not like.”
I felt myself bristle at his words. Luckily, he couldn’t see me. I wrinkled my nose in disgust but managed to keep a loud and irritated scoff at bay. That was even more like a Sarkonian—to take control and leave you little say in the matter.
They were in for a surprise.
“Close the channel, Siggy,” I ordered.
“Transmission terminated, sir,” said the AI.
On the holo, a shuttle detached from the Sarkonian vessel and propelled its way toward the Star.
“The shuttle is requesting authority to dock with our vessel and begin boarding procedures,” said Sigmond.
“Yeah, they don’t waste any time, do they?” I muttered.
“Evidently not, sir.”
I didn’t have long to make my final decision. I’d wanted to wait to see who my contact was, and now I was more certain than ever that I’d stepped into something deadly. The kind of job where people disappeared and no one ever saw them again. The kind of gig that sent men adrift in space.
No way, I vowed. I wasn’t going to end up in a coffin. Not yet, anyway.
“Sir?” said Sigmond. “They’re approaching.”
“I know, Siggy,” I answered softly as I pulled the fake stick out of my pocket and twirled it around in my fingers, still trying to decide what to do.
I didn’t know much about the feud between the Sarkonians and the Union, just that they hated each other with a burning passion. Each wanted to keep the other at bay, and their tension was the only thing that allowed the Deadlands to thrive. It was the void between them, the no-man’s land that separated the two empires. If one invaded the Deadlands planets, the other would take it as a personal affront.
Of course, there were pockets all over the galaxy that had been settled by both governments outside of the two main chunks of territory. The cosmos were vast, to be sure, and each side was always trying to get their hands on more control. This wouldn’t be an issue for me if the Deadlands weren’t always on the fringes of their skirmishes. Even though my favorite region of space was wild and almost impossible to bring to heel, it would be a prize if anyone ever managed the task.
Their hatred for each other kept the Deadlands alive—and the Deadlands kept me employed. It was illegal to be a Renegade in Union space, sure, but it was illegal to even enter Sarkonian held space.
I wanted them to keep picking fights with each other. It was the only thing that gave me a shot at making a life for myself out here in the nothing.
But if the Sarkonians had the classified intel on the data stick, all of that would come to a crashing halt.
What I had in the secret compartment of the cargo bay could well be the final piece of the puzzle for the Sarkonians. For all I knew, that could very well be everything they needed to surpass the Union’s military and overtake them.
And if that happened, the first thing to die would be the Deadlands.
My life would disappear, as would the livelihoods of everyone who lived on the fringes. In an intergalactic war, people often died in the crossfire. People like me. People like Ollie.
We weren’t the most morally righteous men, but we deserved fair shots at life, too. So did everyone on Taurus Station. So did everyone in the Deadlands.
I tensed my jaw as I made my final choice. This could go well, or it could go horribly, terribly wrong.
“All right, Siggy,” I said. “I’ve got a plan, but whether or not we survive is going to depend on how well we can bluff our way out of this. Got it?”
“Of course, sir,” said the AI. “What do you need me to do?”
As the transport shuttle docked to the Star, I stood in the darkened cargo bay with my arms crossed, ready for hell to pour through my ship’s back door.
I’d had Siggy turn off most of the lights, leaving only a few of the floor lights on by the cargo bay door so that there was just enough light to see by. Whoever was in the Sarkonian shuttle would be able to see my face, but not much else.
I peeked over my shoulder to make sure the upper walkway above the cargo hold was shrouded in darkness.
Yep. Black as night.
I let out a slow breath. Good. It was part of the bluff, and I needed them to guess at the dangers waiting for them in the shadows should they piss me off.
Deep down, I was running on nothing but my wit and steel nerve. I hadn’t been in a situation like this before, but I’d heard plenty of tales of handoffs gone wrong. Whatever happened, I couldn’t let them storm the ship. The moment I lost control, I’d lose the Star.
And my life.
All I needed to do was keep calm. This would be over in a few minutes. They’d collect their data stick, have a look around, and leave. It was all business—nothing personal.
Except for the part where I was giving them a fake stick, but that was beside the point. To me, it was still business.
Mostly.
Of course, they probably would feel like putting a bullet in me was just business as usual, too, but that was beside the point.
“Sir,” said Sigmond through the comm in my ear. “The shuttle is docked and air pressure has been equalized. Shall I unlock the cargo bay door?”
“Remember, Siggy, the bluff starts the moment those doors open.”
“I’m ready and waiting, sir.”
Everything I had depended on whether or not these people called my bluff, and this was one hell of a con I was about to pull.
I squared my shoulders and braced for the worst. “Do it.”
The moment the cargo bay door opened, two armored men rushed in with rifles. As they lifted their weapons toward me, however, red dots appeared on their foreheads. More red dots made a show of sweeping across the floor—seven in total, one for each fake crew member I’d lied about—and came to rest on the mens’ chests.
They both paused and looked at each other before looking down at their own chests. Though they had their weapons raised, the men wisely pointed them at the floor even while they glared at me. The red dots glowed ominously along their chests.
It took everything in me not to sigh with relief. Sigmond was one hell of a beautiful bastard, and that AI had earned a place among the gods today.
The red dots were laser pointers.
That was it.
My whole bluff came down to little beams of light shooting through some of the ship’s interior projectors.
No fancy tech. I didn’t have a single gun trained on them. In the darkness, they saw what I let them see and had to guess at the rest.
If I was lucky, they’d assume I had some sort of enhanced cloaks that hid body temperature or some such nonsense. People with access to wealth and weaponry were used to dealing with advanced technology, and they probably had answers to questions most scientists hadn’t even asked yet. They could assume all they wanted about the tech I must have, just so long as they gave me my money and didn’t try to kill me.
“Welcome to the Renegade Star,” I said with a cocky smile.
One of them men narrowed his eyes, while the other held his hand to his ear and whispered something into a comm.
>
“Explain yourself at once!” a man snapped out as he stormed his way out of the shuttle and onto my ship.
He wore a black coat that went halfway down his thigh and a crisp white shirt beneath it. With perfectly combed hair and a punchable face, he glowered as he scanned the interior of the cargo bay. As he pushed the two men aside, his dark eyes landed on me.
Instantly, three of the seven red dots darted toward him.
Nice work, Siggy, I thought.
I’d have to congratulate him when all this was over. He was doing one hell of a great job.
The Sarkonian officer froze mid-stride, his brow wrinkling as he glared at me. “Why do you have weapons trained on us? This is hardly—”
“Cut the shit,” I interrupted. “You don’t barge onto my ship with guns in my face and then tell me to explain myself. Now you’re going to listen closely because I won’t be repeating myself. Tell me what you’re out here to find.”
He balled his hands into fists and looked me up and down. “I don’t have to tell the likes of you anything, you—”
“This can go as friendly or as unfriendly as you want it to, boss,” I said, cutting him off again as I set my hand on the gun at my waist. The red dots held steady on the three men’s chests, and I figured they all assumed there were fingers on triggers in the shadows.
I had every intention of letting their imaginations run wild. Better for me that they all thought I could kill them with a simple order. It was working so far, now I just needed it to see me through until I was able to get clear of this system and put some distance between us.
The nameless Sarkonian official straightened his coat and let out an irritated groan. “We’re here for a data stick. Do you have it or not?”
“Oh, this one?” With one hand still on the butt of my gun, I pulled the fake stick out of my pocket and waved it in the air with my free hand.
Bluff number two: convince him to take the fake data stick and leave me with the real one. I didn’t like anything about this job, but this part set my nerves on fire.
