by J. N. Chaney
“No, you wouldn’t have.” I waved a hand at Sophie and the case she carried. It was empty but they didn’t need to know that. “Ensign-Young and I are here to initiate the final phase.”
She stepped forward and showed him the datapad with Kaska’s sign off.
He looked at it, then back and forth between the two of us, clearly torn between following an unknown superior’s direct order and maintaining his post without confirmation.
“Sir, if you’ll give me a moment to contact—”
I cut him off by stepping into his personal space and leaning forward until we almost touched. “Communications are already down in preparation of Security Directive K39B. Is it usual for you to disregard commands, Reyes?” My tone was calm, light, and even, but there was no mistaking the hostility in it.
He blanched and shook his head in a jerky movement. “No, sir. I’m only following protocol.”
“Maybe scale it back a smidge, killer,” Farah hissed in my ear.
I stepped back. “Understood, Petty-Officer. Next time, though, you’d do well to remember respect when a higher ranking officer gives you an order. Dismissed.”
“Yes, Commander. Thank you.” The pair saluted again, then marched off, the recruit whispering urgently to the Petty-Officer. He told the recruit to zip it and then they were out of earshot.
I froze when Reyes stopped short and whirled around, causing me to nearly draw my rifle on him.
“The key, sir. I almost forgot.” He jogged over and passed it to me. I didn’t bother thanking him. As soon as they disappeared from view, I unlocked the door and waved Sophie in behind me before turning to stand watch.
She hurried inside the building and I closed the door most of the way shut, leaving it open just a crack.
“Found the device. Starting disassembly now,” she said in my ear.
I scanned the empty area around the small building but didn’t see anything concerning. Yet.
“We don’t know how much time that bought, so you better move fast,” I warned her. “I don’t think those two completely believe our story.”
“Working on it,” she muttered.
The suit had temp control and stayed a hair above 22 degrees Celsius. Despite the relative balminess inside, I started to sweat as the minutes ticked by.
“Captain, there are three individuals moving in your direction,” Vega informed me over the comm.
“Shit. Singh, status?” I snapped the words out as adrenaline shot through my system in preparation for a fight. I used her given surname out of habit borne from years of training and familiarity.
“Almost there. One more... got it!”
As she said it, Reyes and Bell reappeared from the direction they’d left, except they weren’t alone and appeared to be accompanied by an officer.
The three came within a meter and I noticed both the Petty-Officer and Recruit already had their weapons in hand. The third, a female sergeant, came to a halt in front of me and saluted, since I still ranked higher. Or she thought I did from the rank depicted on my suit.
“What’s the problem, Sergeant?” I said it nonchalantly, not bothering to use her last name, though I could see it was Martin.
Her face tightened at my disrespect from using her rank like that, especially since we didn’t know each other, but the Sergeant didn’t comment. “Sir, Petty-Officer-Reyes has informed me that you are here to remove them from this post.”
I sighed and waved my hand in a bored motion. “Let me guess, you’ve received no such instruction?”
Martin nodded. “That’s affirmative, sir. I’m afraid we cannot move without official word. I’ll also need to verify your credentials.”
She said that last sentence uncertainly. I smiled inside my suit. If I played this right, we could get out of here without any bloodshed.
“Sergeant-Martin, are you aware of what is in this building?” I gestured behind me.
“No, sir. That’s classified.”
I stepped forward, though not like I had with Reyes. He and Bell started to raise their rifles.
“Those weapons come up a centimeter more, you will be charged with attempted murder of a superior officer,” I spat in my best superior officer tone. “Do you understand me?”
The barrels dropped instantly to aim at the dirt.
I turned my attention back to Martin. “That’s right, Sergeant-Martin. It is known to only a select few. And I am one of those few. Your orders are to not enter that building, guard the generators, and remain here until relieved. After which you have to vacate this colony. How am I doing? Correct so far?”
Her mouth formed a small O at my words before she got it in check. “Yes, sir, that’s correct.”
At that moment, Farah exited the building, making the trio jump.
Ignoring the outburst, I continued. “I know,” I said amiably. “I’m in this suit for a reason, Sergeant. I’m not taking any chances with this delivery. Your men were told three minutes five minutes ago, so unless you’re all ready to die, I suggest you and your team hightail it off this rock.”
The sergeant looked at the building with an expression of pure horror.
“But the colonists, shouldn’t we evacuate?”
I softened at her obvious discomfort at leaving the innocent people here to die but forced myself to stay in character. “I don’t believe your orders mention an evacuation.” Motioning Farah to follow, I tossed the words coolly over my shoulder and left the three to gawk at our backs.
We returned to the Second Genesis at a faster pace than before and walked into the cargo bay less than an hour after we’d left it.
I opened one of the biological safety containers then stepped back. Farah set the device inside gently as if it were loaded with the deadly toxin, then locked the lid again.
We exchanged twin glances of relief then made our way back to the bridge to strap in for takeoff. There had been a few moments there where I was a little worried we’d have to fight our way off the planet moon, but it had worked out just fine.
“That went well,” she said, clipping her harness together. “I almost threatened to release the toxin early.”
I looked at her in disbelief. “Are you serious? And what if they called your bluff?”
She chuckled and raised a hand in a “no idea” gesture. “I didn’t get that far. You handled it well anyway. I thought Reyes was going to pee himself.”
I laughed with her as we left Karbine’s orbit and returned to the beauty of deep space.
“I’m glad we didn’t have to resort to that. I was a little worried that recruit was going to accidentally shoot at one of us, but he managed to hold it together.”
“Congratulations on a successful first mission,” Vega complimented us as the Second Genesis pulled away from Karbine.
“Thanks. It went better than I expected,” I said.
I spoke the truth. I’d left the ship fully anticipating a fight, and even though it had been ages since I prayed, I thanked the gods that didn’t happen.
“As I mentioned, Miss Cortez, the ship will require refueling before any significant travel.”
The “Miss Cortez” gave me a slight pause, but I decided I liked it after a lifetime of being addressed by a Sarkonian imposed rank.
“Yes, you did. Get me a list of outposts or stations where we’ll be the least likely to run into trouble,” I ordered.
“I took the liberty of assembling that information already, Captain.”
“Wow, you’re good, Vega.”
The computer was getting almost scarily good at anticipating our needs, but I wasn’t going to complain. In fact, I had to say I was impressed. Vega seemed to be adapting to the changes with ease, but part of me did feel a slight a twinge of apprehension.
Could the AI suddenly decide it didn’t want to help us? I pushed the thought away. Tech had never been my thing, but nothing in Vega’s actions suggested she would betray us. If there was any chance of that, I was certain Mack would have mentioned
it.
“It’s my pleasure to assist you,” she said as if reading my thoughts. “The Leah Station is located not far from here. Similar to Neblinar, it has no military presence, though it is technically within Union territory.”
I grinned, deciding to focus on the positives and letting satisfaction at our recent success show.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s get some fuel in this baby so we can work on the next anti-mission.”
16
Leah station was located on a dwarf planet one S.G. Point away from Karbine, not far from the outer limit of Union-controlled space, though still inside their territory.
It was evident as soon as we docked why the Union didn’t give a shit about the little colony and the Empire hadn’t bothered to claim it.
The seedy atmosphere here was exactly what I’d first expected to find on Nebilnar. The station could loosely be called hedonistic, but I didn’t see how anyone could find pleasure in the scum and grime.
Both Farah and I could handle ourselves but decided it was smarter to stick together in case someone tried to mug us. We both packed for a fight and I ordered Vega to engage countermeasures should anyone try to steal the ship.
Fuel was the first thing, since it was sold right at the docks. I haggled with a nearly toothless vendor who quoted an initial price more than three times the average. I was sorely tempted to agree just to get away from his breath but soldiered through it by not breathing with my nose. Farah had turned away less than a minute into the negotiations and pretended to be very interested in the passersby.
I finally settled on a price with the vendor only slightly above what I’d paid on Neblinar and stepped away with extreme relief.
“That was worse than a dead body,” I said as I came up to Farah, still almost gagging. “And you know we’ve smelled our fair share.”
“Vega, make a note never to come here again,” she told the AI.
“Of course, Miss Shahi. My apologies for your current predicament. The data listed did not allude to the degraded condition of the station.”
“It’ll be fine,” Farah replied. “I’m just glad we’re up to date on all of our inoculations.”
“Indeed, Miss Shahi.”
“We might as well grab some food in case we can’t stop for a while,” I suggested.
Farah made a face. “Something tells me they don’t have fresh fruits or veggies on hand.”
“Would you eat them if they did?” I asked, raising a doubtful eyebrow.
“No. Packaged food should be safe though, right?” She didn’t sound like she trusted that either and I laughed.
“Maybe. It might be prudent to disinfect them before touching them, just to be safe.”
Our supply run took us all over the station. Fortunately, we managed to find a few merchants whose shops looked like they’d been cleaned in the not-too-distant past. Some of the places we saw didn’t appear to have ever seen a broom or mop.
The med bay on the ship was stocked well enough with military grade supplies that should last us awhile. Still, Farah thought it best to see what we could find to add to our inventory, though I wasn’t holding out much hope after seeing what Leah had to offer.
As we moved down one of the many dim, dirty streets in tandem, I became increasingly grateful for my training. I fixed my features into mask of scornful arrogance and stalked rather than walked. Any show of weakness here would only be an invitation for trouble from anyone who thought us an easy mark. They’d be wrong of course, but I didn’t feel like putting it to the test.
Shadows didn’t slink and slither here so much as prowl and hunt. They seemed to push back against the weak glow from scattered light posts instead of the other way around. There was no question. Darkness ruled here.
The gloom dissipated somewhat in the market district where businesses advertised their wares with flashing holo signs, blazing displays, and in some cases, live models.
I stopped in front of a window with the unmistakable red cross signifying medical supplies. It looked slightly less filthy than the last one we’d tried, so I stepped inside.
The door closed with a sharp slap behind us. The lights faltered and buzzed like they were on their last legs, illuminating the interior of the store with a half-hearted glow. As Farah was the medic, I had her take point. She moved methodically through the aisles, plucking various items off shelves.
I followed her to the counter when she waved a hand, indicating she was done, but let her haggle with the scowling woman at the register. I listened with half an ear in case things got tense and continued to scan the store.
Only one other customer patronized the establishment and I had a feeling they didn’t plan on paying. I couldn’t make out gender because the person was covered in a large bedraggled cloak and hunched over. They shuffled aimlessly and didn’t appear to have an interest in anything.
“You want I can have this delivered,” the clerk was telling Farah, who shook her head.
“No, I’ll take them,” she replied.
We’d already decided ahead of time not to have anything delivered. More than likely, anything we sent ahead wouldn’t make it.
“You sure? If you pay extra, I throw in insurance.” The woman smiled in a way that I supposed she thought came off as trustworthy, but it had the opposite effect.
“I said no.” Farah’s usually soft tone took on a menacing inflection. “And if someone tries to follow us, I’m going to assume it was you.”
The clerk pushed the packages toward her and leaned away, waving her hands in protest. “That’s bad for business. I can’t be blamed for what happens after you leave my shop.”
The purchased goods disappeared into my partner’s coat in a slick move that I would have missed had I not been watching.
“I guess you better hope nothing happens, then,” she warned.
As we walked out, I noticed the cloaked figure I’d observed earlier approach the counter. Shouts erupted, but we ignored them and stepped out onto the street.
“Sheesh,” I said. “And you say I’m the scary one.”
My friend grinned evilly. “What can I say? I learned from the best.”
“What’s left?” I asked, wishing I’d thought to ask before we left. Standing still out in the open made me twitchy.
Farah consulted the list on her wrist unit then grinned at me. “Your favorite. Weapons and ammo.”
I smiled. She was right, they were my favorite.
We set off down the walk, careful not to bump into anyone. In a place like this, you were just as likely to get pickpocketed as you were a knife in the gut for whatever happened to be in your pockets. We witnessed the latter and nobody batted an eye, not even bothering to do more than step over the poor man’s body.
It was well past evening, but Leah was a hive of activity. Not a single shop window was dark and street vendors flagged down passersby in hopes of making an easy sale.
Naked women danced on live holo feeds outside brothels, enticing patrons to come in and fulfill any fantasy. It didn’t matter what system you were in, sex sold.
A shop to our right caught my eye and I peered at the display with interest. It was a surgeon offering illegal cybernetic enhancements. The biotech looked out of date and questionable at best, but I had to admit it got my attention.
“How about that one?” Farah pointed across the street at a sign depicting weapons.
I turned away from the black market surgical center and shrugged. “It’s as good a place as any.”
“Good. I want to get the hell out of here,” she said, making a beeline for it. “I think we may have to burn our clothes in the incinerator to get rid of the smell.”
I didn’t dance when we entered the store, but I wanted to. The store itself had seen better days and my feet made little sucking noises when I walked, but the firearms were shiny and almost clean to a fault.
Soldiers, mercenaries, Renegades—we might not always play well together, but we all had one thing in co
mmon: we took care of our weapons and gear. Proper maintenance was essential to keeping your shit in working order. Nobody wanted to be in a firefight and have their gun bind up or misfire because it was dirty.
Likewise, if an arms dealer wanted to sell anything, their merchandise had better be in top condition. Otherwise, word would get out and the only customers they were likely to attract would be criminals who didn’t know any better.
I circled the room slowly, studying the displays. An upgraded version of my service rifle caught my eye and I picked it up. This one had HUD connectivity, and when paired with the right rounds, target-locking capability.
It had perfect balance and a quick inspection didn’t reveal any defects. I carried it to the front counter, where a stout, bald man sat watching me with sharp, calculating eyes.
“You got somewhere I can test this?”
He looked me up and down, but not in an offensive way. More like he was assessing whether I could handle the rifle.
I tensed at a mechanized sound coming from the entrance. A metal guard slid down, protecting the windows and preventing anyone from coming or going.
Apparently judging me to be worthy, he nodded, bent to retrieve a few rounds from somewhere out of sight, then dropped them into my open palm.
“Just a precaution,” the clerked said, apparently noticing my expression. “Can’t leave it unattended otherwise idiots will try to steal my shit. Don’t get any ideas either. My vitals go too off base and you’ll never make it out.” He motioned for us to follow him and led the way to a back room.
It consisted of a single stall and ran about fifteen meters on the inside. The man passed me a beat-up pair of ear protectors, then gave another to Farah. I tried not to think about who might have used them before us and what germs still remained.
Sucking it up, I slid them on, stepped to the stall, and field-stripped the rifle, then put it back together and loaded the ammunition.
“My goods are clean,” the clerk said in a somewhat miffed voice.
“Yes, they are,” I said with a nod. “Just like to see for myself what I’m buying.”
