by Arthur Byrne
The scavengers didn’t seem to understand what she was saying.
“If you’re interested in staying in our lovely accommodations, complete with air to breath when your tanks run out, we are open for business.”
Hardened warriors started to pair up and move into spots in front of doors.
Less than ten minutes later, everyone was in front of a door. “Okay, now, I’m going to need you to lay down any weapons you might have, including hidden knives in boots and any extra little goodies that might ruin the day of our helpful staff.”
Guns, knives, a few grenades, and an assortment of other lethal-looking devices were dropped to the ground. Ronnie grabbed the microphone and said, “You, with the skull on your helmet, I know you aren’t packing just one plasma pistol and that tiny, almost girl-like, knife.” He let up on the switch, looked at Sasha and said, “No offense, boss.”
“None, taken. I wouldn’t be caught dead with that pathetic little thing.”
The guy with the skull pulled out a pipe.
Ronnie said, “Come on now, you can do better than that.”
The guy next to him slapped his friend and pointed to his tank. A bevy of assorted nasty looking things were dug out of all sorts of hidden places on this guy’s suit.
Sasha said, “Okay, now, we’re going to unlock the doors. Please proceed in an orderly fashion. Snacks and drinks will be provided after everyone is checked in.”
Nash put his arm around Sasha and said, “That was both a brilliant military win and a thoroughly entertaining show.”
Sasha took a bow, hit a few keys, and said, “I believe our guests are all secure. “Shall we go pick up their down payments on the rooms?”
It took almost an hour to gather up all the guns and stabby things. PJ really did put together fifty sets of food and water, and they all helped to set them in front of the doors.
Nash said, “Ronnie, can you find this Bhat character on a camera?”
“I’ll try.”
Sasha announced, “All guests have been provided with some snacky goodness just outside your doors. We’ll be unlocking the doors for one minute. You best hurry.”
She hit the button and watched the monitor as the men hustled to retrieve their food. The doors were locked again.
Ronnie said, “I’ve found it. It must be their camp.”
Sasha took the microphone and asked, “Have we figured out how to broadcast to that room?”
“Not quite yet.”
“Nash, sweetie,” Sasha said, “May I call you sweetie?”
“You may. May I call you snookums?”
“I’m cool with that.”
Ronnie said, “May I call you two a cab, possibly to a hotel, way on the other side of the ship...the one that’s still in dry dock back on Mars?”
Nash said, “Ronnie Wu needs a hug.”
Sasha gave him a hug and then said, “As a rule, I like to avoid showing all my cards to a new beau for the first two or three weeks...or years...but I’ve got a little history with Mr. Di’Tang Bhat. You may want to cover your ears...
You got this thing broadcasting yet?”
“Try it now.”
“Di’Tang Bhat, can you hear me?”
Bhat looked around and then saw the camera. “I can.”
“Do you remember about fifteen months ago when you chased a group of five all over hell and back?”
“There are so many who refuse to join. It’s hard to say.”
“I don’t recall you giving them...us...an option.”
Bhat cut the end off a cigar and got out his torch to light it.
“Do you remember?”
“No, but I’m not really trying either.”
“Do you remember getting a cup of coffee brought to you every day for two months before you got fired from Security?”
Bhat looked up at the camera and said, “Sasha, that was you we were chasing?”
“It was. You killed my friends.”
“That’s truly unfortunate. A regrettable part of war.”
“Yes, but we’re not at war with each other, you bastard.”
Bhat blew out some smoke. The lights flashed, and he looked around for a moment.
“I’m feeling, well, what’s the word...miffed. This is what’s going to happen. I’ve cut off the air. You’ll probably pass out before you die, and then you and I are going to have a meeting. A pipe-wielding, rib-breaking, finger-snapping, face-pummeling meeting.”
“I look forward to it.”
“I do, too.”
It was quiet for a beat, and then Nash said, “Snookums.”
“Yes?”
“Want to go upstairs and fool around until he passes out?”
Ronnie said, “I’ll let you know” before he issued the biggest eye roll the Magellan had ever known.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Nash looked down at Bhat, who was just starting to come to again. Sasha had worked him over pretty well. Though she had lost interest when it came to finger snapping, there were definitely broken ribs.
PJ and Ronnie were moving all the supplies at the Bhat camp down to the command center.
With a kick, Nash said, “Get up. Your room awaits.”
Bhat spit some blood out of his mouth.
Nash kicked him again. The ruthless leader struggled to get to his feet as his hands were tied behind his back. It took about ten minutes to walk to the duck hole.
Bhat said, “I can’t climb down the ladder like this,” and turned around so Nash could untie his hands.
Nash picked him up by the belt and said, “This might sting a bit. It’s a twelve-foot drop. Try not to land on your head.”
“Hey, wait, come on.”
The thud and subsequent scream was both blood curdling and strangely satisfying. Nash didn’t like hearing about how Sasha’s friends had been killed.
They tucked the scavenger leader into a room that had been emptied of everything but a snack bar called Nature’s Blend, which everyone agreed tasted like raw garbage run through the mud and covered in a layer of stale nougat. They left him a bottle of what appeared to be lemonade or something to wash out the aftertaste.
It wasn’t lemonade, and it was warm—really warm.
They left him a bucket, too.
***
It had been a long day, but Sasha and PJ managed to put together food for each of the prisoners while Nash and Ronnie got their own dinner together.
With a raised glass, Nash said, “To a solid victory against incredible odds.”
A collective “Cheers!” started things off, and then PJ said, “We’ve got a lot of mouths to feed now. I’d estimate they have supplies to last a week. If we tap into ours, we’ll run out in a few more.”
Sasha said, “We can always change our minds and let them die.”
“You did the right thing,” Nash said and added, “Now we need to come up with a solution.”
Ronnie said, “Whatever we come up with, it won’t be nearly as difficult as figuring out how to survive that attack. We could always just let them go.”
“How tough would they be without their gear? Not very if you ask me,” PJ said.
There was a general group nod of agreement, and not much else was said after that. Ronnie tried to get a card game going, but as there weren’t any takers, he went to bed.
PJ cleaned up while Nash and Sasha went upstairs.
Sasha took a shower, put on a T-shirt and shorts, double-checked her weapons—something one does when they live in the wild—and flopped down on the bed.
Nash got cleaned up and then joined her. He lay back with his hands folded behind his head as Sasha snuggled up on his chest.
“I got a little ugly today,” Sasha said.
“Not to me you didn’t. When I pummeled Frank it was wrong; what you did today simply wasn’t.”
“But I lowered myself to his level.”
“No, you didn’t. You just issued punishment for crimes committed. I probably shouldn’t
have chucked him through the duck hole, though. That might have been excessive,” Nash said with a smile.
Sasha kissed him and then returned to his chest and said, “I’ve been out here for a long time. I usually don’t just jump into bed with a guy without putting up a fight.”
“Hold on, I was using my best moves on you...and the wine, you were powerless against my charms.”
She stroked his chest.
“Powerless, I say.”
“Okay, we can go with that.”
“The last few days have been something. It’s got me thinking.”
“About what.”
“My job.”
“Making maps?”
“No, flying fighters and defending the Magellan against all foes, as I pledged to do the day I was sworn in at flight school.”
“Fighter pilots are sexy.”
“See! Powerless.”
She gave him a kiss on the neck. “Do you have one of those leather jackets?”
“There was one in my locker when I left...ten years ago.”
“Let’s go find it.”
“What about the kids?”
“PJ and Ronnie? They’ll be fine.”
“I meant the 100 or so new mouths we have to feed.”
“I should really have talked to you before I proceeded with a mass adoption.”
“There may be some good ones in there.”
“What do you mean?”
“How long had you been at The Satin Club when you rescued me?”
“A while, maybe a month, but it wasn’t my first time there. Why?”
“What do you know about the two armies in the mining pod?”
“As far as I know, they’ve been there for almost the entire time since the attack, maybe nine years, or nine-and-a-half.”
“They just battled to a stalemate.”
“It seems so. The man in charge of the Magellan troops is Gunnery Admiral David Glasgow Fletcher. He’s a stickler for rules and a fierce defender of the ship, such that it is now. I don’t know much about the Navereen.”
“It seems he doesn’t care much for scavengers.”
“He would think they’re thieves, or worse, pirates.”
“It seems you know him.”
“Actually, we do know each other a little, and that’s why I avoid him.”
“Do you think all of those men out there wanted to be part of Bhat’s army?”
“They probably preferred it to death or starvation.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“I’m sensing an idea.”
“What if the admiral had more fighters? Would that help him win the battle against the Navereen? Could we take back the ship?”
“The whole ship?”
“I know, it’s such a big place, but if the Navereen were gone, wouldn’t it just be a matter of slow and steady repair? I mean, look at what we’ve done on this one little bit of the ship.”
“If the Navereen and the scavengers were gone, then you might be right.”
Nash didn’t say anything for a while. He ran his fingers through her hair and thought.
“I wonder where Jeff lives,” Sasha said.
“Jeff, who?”
“You know, the little robot that screwed me over. He’s a Je-55, light industrial maintenance robot.”
“Wouldn’t that be Jess?”
“The font makes it look like Jeff.”
“What were you asking?”
“Doesn’t the Magellan have an army of repair robots?”
“I know we had some for the squadron. I supposed there would have to be some somewhere. Other than Jeff, it doesn’t seem like any have been on the job, though.”
“Maybe there’s a control center like this one.”
“So, if we could drive off the aliens and find the repair robots, we might have a chance to get back under way.”
“If nothing else, trying to repair the ship would be a lot more fun than simply wandering aimlessly.”
Nash changed the topic and said, “I think we should interview each of the prisoners.”
“For jobs?”
“No, well maybe, but that’s not what I was thinking. Let’s take their temperature, see who they were, what they did on the ship, how much they like the state of their lives.”
“Favorite colors, high school crush, actor they think would most likely play them in a movie, that sort of thing?”
“You mock me...and in my own shirt nonetheless.”
Sasha sat up. “I do mock you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like the idea,” she said and pulled the shirt over her head. “Right now I’ve got some questions I’d like to ask you.”
“Oh?”
She crawled on top of him, kissed his neck, and said, “Who was your high school crush?”
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
When Nash and Sasha came downstairs the next morning, PJ and Ronnie had already fed and watered all the prisoners except Bhat. PJ explained that they weren’t sure what Sasha wanted to do with him, so they left it.
Sasha said, “Take him some food and water, but before you go, check him out on the monitor. He’s probably gotten his hands free.”
“If he has, what do we do?” PJ asked.
“We’ll do it like the others, but you two should stand a ways away, ready to fire, and I’ll open the door and let him grab the stuff.”
Nash started to make breakfast.
After Bhat was secure in his room again, Sasha explained their plan.
When she finished, PJ said, “That’s a great idea.”
Ronnie didn’t quite understand. “So, let me see if I’ve got this straight. We interview them all and sort the bums from the ones who might be our mates. How do we know for sure?”
Nash said, “Not really our mates, per se, but the guys who would be interested in giving up their lives in Bhat’s army and joining the admiral in his fight against the Navereen.”
“Oh, well that makes sense. Everyone we pawn off is one less mouth to feed.”
“The ones who insist on being trouble, well, Sasha thinks we can pawn them off on the admiral, too, and let him dispense military justice. Either way, we’re rid of them.”
PJ asked, “Who’s going to do the interviews?”
Sasha said, “I think I should.”
Ronnie asked, “Why you?”
In a voice that could melt the polar ice caps, she said, “Oh, Ronnie,” and slinked over next to him, lightly touched his arm, and added, “because I have a way of making guys do my bidding.”
“Yep, I see your point.”
PJ and Nash shrugged and nodded.
With everyone on the same page, PJ and Ronnie retrieved the first prisoner and brought him to have a chat with Sasha.
Sasha changed into exceptionally form-fitting interrogation attire.
The prisoner was shown into a conference room on the first floor and given some water, then Ronnie left. He and the others watched as Sasha descended the stairs and, with the confidence of every woman who’s ever wrapped a guy around her finger, went into the room and closed the door.
Ronnie elbowed PJ and said, “After this guy, I think it would be best if I got interrogated. I mean, how much do you guys really know about me? I have a very checkered past.”
PJ laughed and said, “I’m pretty dangerous, too. Nash, you can’t trust either of us.”
“I was just thinking that maybe I’ve gotten in over my head,” Nash said, only partly kidding.
***
“My name is Sasha.”
“Sergeant Christopher Hafner, Mechanic, Transportation...ma’am.”
“I have to apologize about the whole taking away your air thing. It wasn’t very nice, but you were trying to kill us.”
“Yes, ma’am, I understand.”
“How’s the food?”
“Better than I usually get.”
“That’s good. Do you have enough water?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
�
�How about your bunk mate? How’s he doing?”
“You’d have to ask him, ma’am.”
“Please, call me Sasha.”
“Yes, ma’am, er...Sasha.”
“Where are you from?”
“The 8th transportation repair center, near the front of the ship.”
“No, what I meant was on Earth.”
“Oh, I’m from San Diego, California, but I also lived in Korea for two years.”
“You miss it?”
“Sure.”
Sasha walked around behind the table and pulled out a knife. She cut a piece of apple and asked, “How did you end up on Bhat’s crew?”
It seemed her charms were working. He wasn’t being shy about looking at her chest...or was it the apple?
“Is that a real apple?”
“Yes, it is.” She cut it in half and gave him a piece. “They’re delicious. My friend Nash brings them for me.”
“Back home, at my grandmother’s place in Missouri, we would visit each summer. She had an apple orchard. They were delicious.”
“How’s that one taste?”
“After ten years, this is the best apple I’ve ever had. Why are you being so nice to me? We did try to kill you.”
“Yes, but you’re not trying to kill me now, are you?”
“No, ma’am.”
She tilted her head forward a little and gave him a look.
“I mean, Sasha.”
“Ten years ago, we were all part of one large family heading off to colonize a new world. Do you remember how exciting it was when you got picked to go?”
“It was the best day of my life. Do you know how many mechanics applied for positions?”
“No idea.”
“Actually, I don’t remember either, but it was a lot. I remember I had less than a one-in-ten thousand chance. My parents were really proud.”
“I’m sure they still are.”
“I guess you’re right. You think they know what happened?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure launch control knows, but did they tell the world? It’s hard to say.”
“I miss them.”
“Christopher, why’d you join up with Bhat’s crew?”
He didn’t answer right away. He looked down at the table and then said, “I thought it would be better than being alone.”
