Renegades: Origins

by Kal Spriggs

  I gave him thumbs up, “I can do that.” It would be nice to have a relatively relaxing trip. Hopefully it would be a long journey through shadow space to a distant world, far from the Centauri Confederation and the shadowy group who had first recruited me and then betrayed me, yet again. I hoped that I had outrun the bounties and bounty-hunters that would pursue me.

  Some part of me wondered how I would manage to do as Grathir had asked. I had not dared to contact him, for fear that it would draw the attention of those who pursued me. I wondered if Princess Hycar would hear of the bounties on me, if she would take that as a sign of my failure.

  “Very well, our navigator, Ariadne is off duty, she just signed on yesterday. She’ll get with you and show you around,” Captain Phillips said. Rastar turned and headed for the hatch, his head low so it didn’t scrape the ceiling. Human ships almost always made him feel claustrophobic. “Oh, one last thing. We’re skirting the edge of Chxor space. We shouldn’t have any issues with them, not unless we get unlucky enough to stumble into one of their patrols. On the off chance that happens, let me do the talking, understood?”

  I felt some rul fill my hide with red. “If they board, they will take the ship.”

  “Leave that to me,” Captain Phillips said.

  * * *

  ”I repeat, all personnel report to the crew lounge,” Captain Phillips sounded terrified. I stood behind him, next to the murdered Purser who had attempted to bribe the Chxor inspection team. My hands twitched, eager for the fight. Still, there were too many to fight. If they had jumped away, as the navigator had suggested, they could have escaped. Rastar saw the human woman had a pinched look on her face, that mingled regret, anger, and sadness. He felt the same. The Terrathi Voyager had stumbled across just a single Chxor patrol craft in its brief stop at the Saragossa system. Only by the worst of luck had they been within range of the other vessel.

  Only by Captain Phillips’ fear had they not jumped out before the other ship could board. I felt the kava begin to build in me again. Still, the Chxor inspectors had locked down our navigation board upon arrival to the bridge. They’d also ordered Captain Phillips to transfer a list of passengers, crew and the cargo manifest.

  That was when the purser tried to bribe them. Captain Phillips had lost what little bearing he had after the Chxor calmly executed the officer. I just didn’t see anything I could do at that point. They had the bridge, they had the ship targeted, and they seemed to have no compunction about killing anyone who caused trouble.

  It looked like my best chance at fighting another day was to remain calm. I glanced at the navigator, who looked worried, and I gave her a thumbs up. She gave me a slight smile in return. Well, I thought, at least not all humans lack a sense of humor.

  I would survive this, as I had survived so much else. I would become the warrior that my people needed… and along the way, I would have the opportunity to kill some Chxor. Also, importantly, the Chxor would not track human bounties or allow human bounty hunters in their space. I would have some time for my pursuers to lose interest, and perhaps for the whole misunderstanding to blow over. I felt yir suffuse my hide, and for the first time in a long time, I felt suddenly happy.

  Ghost Story

  The Renegades, Book Four

  Eric had a very peculiar talent set in that he made for a very talented chef and an absolutely perfect killer. While the former meant he had taken over the ship’s galley, the later meant he got to do less fun things sometimes, such as his current task.

  He gave a sigh as Pixel assembled his pistol and managed to ‘flag’ everyone in the room. “Pixel, keep the damned muzzle down unless you plan to shoot someone with it,” Eric repeated for what felt like the twentieth time.

  With a new private, he would have dragged them outside and gone for a more physical method of instruction. He did not have that option with the crew of escaped prisoners. For one thing, they wouldn’t accept those tactics. For another, most of them had some experience with weapons. To Eric, that just meant they had more time to develop bad habits. Mandy and Miranda both had some bad habits, but Mike, their recently elected captain, served as a case in point.

  “Captain,I appreciate you assembling the weapon, but I would suggest you keep your finger out of the trigger well unless you intend to fire,” Elena said. She managed it with more tact than Eric could have mustered just then, which he appreciated.

  “That’s what the safety is for,” Mike shrugged.

  “There is only one safety, that is your trigger finger,” Eric said. He gnashed his teeth as he saw Ariadne smile in the back of the room. “Pay attention, Ariadne, or do us all a favor and blow your fucking brains out now and get it over with.”

  She looked hurt at that and Eric cursed silently at that. He should not have lost his temper with her, not when she at least, had listened and followed all his directions, unlike some people, to include their new captain.

  She just reminded him too much of Ivanna Stravinsky, one of his medics from his time as a squad leader in the Centauri Commandos. Ariadne had the same cheerful attitude, the same positive outlook. Eric feared she’d end up dead the same way too. Ivanna had cared too much about people, and that cost her life when she went to treat a wounded Seppie terrorist and took a round through her throat.

  Eric held her when she died. She choked on her own blood as she tried to talk him through treatment. He had seen Ivanna’s weakness and not acted on it, he would not make the same mistake with Ariadne.

  “Well guys,” Rastar said, his voice calm, “We’ve gone through the fundamentals of safety as well as a field strip of the pistols.” Eric glanced over at the big alien and felt some of his anger ease. Rastar seemed particularly safety conscious, especially for someone who had learned his trade through mercenary work. His easygoing attitude also made his corrections carry more weight with the others.

  When they bothered to listen.

  “So when do we get to shoot stuff?” Crowe asked impatiently.

  “You don’t,” Simon said. “There’s nowhere on the ship safe to put up a range. When we find an appropriate location we can set one up, but until then, you get to dry fire and practice weapons maintenance. These Liberty Arms HQ7’s are pretty simple. Case-less ammo still leaves a residue though, which can lead to barrel fouling. So a daily cleaning cycle is a good habit to get into. It should take you fifteen minutes to disassemble, wipe everything down and then reassemble your weapon. Once a week you should do a full strip and cleaning. I’ve posted a schedule on the outside of the door, you should all initial by your name each day on the board after you do your cleaning.”

  “What a waste of time,” Crowe said, “I mean, we don’t even get to shoot these things yet, why bother to clean them?”

  “It builds good habits, which is important because a lot of you have bad habits we need to break. Especially you,” Eric said. “If you continue hold that pistol like you’ve seen in the holovids you won’t hit a thing.”

  Run the Chxor spoke up, “I have a question.”

  Eric looked over at the little alien. As much as he hated Chxor, he had to admit that the little bastard had followed every direction. “Yes?”

  “What methods would you recommend for your fellow humans to prevent hormonal imbalances from hindering their actions in combat? I have seen some of the others fire when they had excessive levels of adrenaline and I felt it unsafe to remain in the same room.” Run looked over at the engineer, “This includes those less familiar with firearms.”

  Eric snorted despite himself, “That’s actually a good point.” He suddenly remembered his last mission with the Commandos, and how he had taken his wounds on that mission. “It’s a serious matter, and even a well trained shooter can make a mistake if he loses track of the situation.” Eric opened the top of his suit and turned to the side. “I got these scars from a teammate, a new sergeant who had just joined our team. His first mission out he put two in my side and killed one of his own soldiers when he got turned a
round in the firefight.” My fault, he thought, I should have made certain he knew our team procedures, Ivan would have survived then. No one spoke for a moment, and Eric nodded as his graphic lesson of the dangers of friendly fire seemed to sink in.

  “What were those other scars, the ones that looked like straight lines?” Ariadne asked.

  Eric closed his eyes. He could see the clean lines that the laser scalpels had left from memory. Even if he didn’t have the nightmares to remind him about them, he felt the dull ache from those every day of his life. “Something else. I’ll save that story for another day.”

  He took a deep breath, eager to return the subject to one that wouldn’t stir his own nightmares, “I recommend practice and rehearsals. I think it obvious that our main offensive team consists of Rastar, myself, and Anubus. We have done some discussion of tactics, but we haven’t worked together as much as we should. But all of us should practice together, and rehearse various situations aboard the ship, like a deranged passenger,” despite himself, Eric glanced over at Rastar, “or an enemy seizing some part of the ship, such as the engine room or bridge.”

  “Those last two seem a little far fetched,” Mike said.

  “Agreed,” Eric said, “But drills like that build team cohesion and allow us to know the abilities of our fellow crew. I for one would be clueless in the engine room without Pixel to guide me.”

  “I can see that,” Mike nodded. “When we get some time, we’ll institute some drills. I’d like to see you draw up a rehearsal plan, first though. Set down with me and we’ll talk about shipboard duties for that.” Mike looked around at them all, “That’s a good segue to something I wanted to bring up. I’ve talked with you all about billets and positions on the crew. I’ll post the actual duty roster later today, but this is our core group. So I wanted to tell you all in person.”

  Great idea, do it when everyone has a gun in their hands, Eric thought, just in case they really want to take exception to their new job.

  “Ariadne is our navigation officer, of course,” Mike said, “But I’ve also made her our executive officer, which means if I become incapacitated, she’s in charge.”

  Eric frowned at that. The psychic certainly knew how to react in a crisis, but he didn’t think she could manage people from a position of authority in the day to day operations. She wanted people to like her too much. And every XO he ever had in the military was an asshole. It came with the job, as the enforcers of the commander’s orders and the people who screened ninety percent of the bullshit.

  “Eric, you’re our best expert on ships weapons, so I’ve assigned you as the weapons officer, with the secondary task as part of our mobile reaction force for shipboard combat,” Mike continued. He looked at Eric as if he expected some comment. Eric just gave him a shrug, he could do either task. “You’re also assigned as our chef extraordinaire.”

  Everyone gave a cheer at that, and Eric couldn’t restrain a sheepish grin, “Thanks guys, I’m glad you like the food.”

  Mike slapped him on the back and Eric winced as the Captain managed to put his finger in the trigger well of his pistol again. “Well, I like to eat well. Keep that up.”

  Mike turned to Rastar, “I’ve assigned you as our Master of Arms, to keep peace aboard the ship and as the team leader for our mobile reaction force.” Mike looked around at the rest of them, “I had my doubts, but believe me, Rastar has a very colorful record of experience. I think he’ll do fine… as long as he keeps his temper.”

  “Hey man, not a problem, I’m, like, totally cool,” Rastar gave Mike four thumbs up. Eric had mixed feelings about that, but he felt pretty certain that Rastar wouldn’t kill anyone that didn’t deserve it if he did lose his temper, so he let it pass. Besides, Rastar had become something of a friend, so Eric didn’t want to call him on his impulse issues in front of the others.

  “Simon, you’re going to be our sensors officer, and another member of our mobile reaction team. Which means that if we have a situation aboard ship, we will be down sensors and weapons,” Mike said. “Which is why Pixel of course, has engineering as our Engineering Officer. With him there, and Ariadne and myself on the bridge, I think we can at least run away effectively enough.”

  Eric nodded at that. Tactically, they had no business to attack anyone if they had a fight on-board already. With Ariadne’s abilities, as long as the engine stayed up they could at least escape into shadow space.

  “Anubus isn’t here, but I’ve already informed him that he’ll serve as our auxiliary pilot and once we get a shuttle or fighter, he’ll serve as our pilot for that,” Mike said. “Of course, his main duty will be with the mobile reaction team.” The last could have gone unsaid, Eric knew. Most Wrethe seemed physically intimidating. Eric found Anubus flat out terrifying, not only for the stealth with which he moved but also for his raw physical strength and the savage retractable claws that tipped each of his three fingers. Lets see, then there’s his rampant paranoia and his whole thing about eating people…

  “I suppose I’m stuck with communications?” Crowe asked

  Mike nodded, “Yes, though Pixel has mentioned he’d like your help with some system security upgrades he wanted to run. The Chxor cracked just about everything open and he rightly feels there’s not enough control on who can access what in the system.”

  Eric frowned at that, the part about security sounded out of character for the engineer. He had to wonder if Mike had suggested the idea to Pixel.

  Then again, he agreed with the idea himself.

  “Elena, Miranda and Mandy, you’re all on our provisional list, so you don’t have any hard duty assignments yet,” Mike said. “Elena, I’d like you to continue to assist myself with crew interviews and other tasks. Miranda continue to help Pixel in the engine room. Mandy… well I’ve noticed that Pixel is a long way away from any help if he needs it.” Mike said. Eric nodded at that, the armory and bridge lay close together at the stern of the vessel, while the engine room lay closer to the front of the vessel. “I want you down there as manual labor, but keep a weapon handy. You and Miranda back him up if there’s a need.”

  Mike looked around at them all, then he paused, “Oh, right Run.”

  “I will continue my experimentation?”

  “Uh, well, you’re our acting ship’s doctor, and please help out with any other tasks from people who need your unique skill set,” Mike said.

  “I will also cross train in languages and other skill sets,” Run said. “I have begun to learn Russian from Elena Ludmilla Lakar. I will study with Engineer Pixel to figure out engineering. When I have finished I will study sensors, weapons, and communications.”

  Mike nodded, “Good job, Run.”

  Eric grimaced at the thought of the little monster seated with him for hours at time while he went over the various aspect of weapons systems. Still, at least he followed directions.

  Mike holstered his pistol and Eric gave a silent sigh of relief. “Alright, well, I understand that Eric has prepared quite a meal for us for our last dinner before we emerge in 443C98. So let’s not waste any more time.”

  Rastar slapped Eric on the back hard enough to stagger him. “Yes, let’s eat!”

  * * *

  Eric arrived at the lounge well after the others. He had wanted to do a last functions check of his new rifle. Maybe in this new star system he would get the chance to use it. Something about the lethal perfection of the laser rifle just gave him a warm glow in his stomach.

  Eric smiled as he saw the crowd of people gathered for his food. Up until a few days ago, he had heard that some of the escaped prisoners still ate the horrid ration bars rather than come up to the lounge. It looked like his cinnamon and saffron chicken breast had drawn the rest of the holdouts.

  Eric walked up to serve himself, and as he did, an unfamiliar woman stepped in his path. “I understand that you are the ship’s cook?” Her voice sounded like pure sex, and Eric caught a whiff of what smelled like flowers.

  Eric looke
d her over. She stood short for a woman, with curly dark hair, large brown eyes, and a remarkably narrow waist for her curves. Eric realized he’d let his gaze linger a little too long when she cleared her throat. Best to clarify that while he could cook, he had more talents than that, “I cooked the meal, I’m also the ship’s weapons officer.”

  “Very well,” She nodded, she had a grace and poise that both attracted and oddly repulsed him. She reminded him of one of the high end prostitutes one of his commanding officers trafficked with. “I am Ambassador Alara Vibius. I must commend you for your skill, however will require my meals delivered to my quarters from now on.”

  Eric said the first thing that came to mind, “Are you fucking with me?”

  “Excuse me?” She demanded.

  “No, I don’t excuse you. I’m not your servant, I don’t care who you are. I’ve got enough to do that I don’t have time to deliver your meals,” Eric snapped. “For that matter, you look healthy enough to walk your happy ass down here to partake.”

  He hadn’t realized his voice had risen until a stocky man in the remains of a uniform stepped between him and the Ambassador. Eric gave him a quick once-over, and evaluated him as an experienced noncomissioned officer, but way out of his league compared to Eric. Even so, Eric took a step back and gave the other man a nod. He had no intention to further escalate things.

  Evidently the Ambassador had no prior experience to such treatment. She stared at Eric with a look of shock. Eric gave her a nod, and walked around them towards the food. I really need to learn to watch my mouth, but she blindsided me with that, he thought. Then again, she deserved it, so he didn’t feel bad about it. He did feel irritation from the stares of some of the other passengers, however.

  He stepped up to the buffet table and helped himself. He had expected the weapons safety class to run long, so he had enlisted the help of Michael Santangel to set things up. The former noble from Saragossa had done a fine job, and if he felt the job beneath his talent set, well, he had kept his mouth shut about it at least.