by Rachel Aukes
“The ship is yours,” Reyne said to Throttle.
“Powering up nav engines,” Throttle said.
The small engines purred, and Reyne checked the sensors. “All green.”
The countdown went down to eight lights.
“Powering up Flux engine,” she said.
Reyne checked the sensors once again. “Green.”
The countdown went down to seven lights.
“Cycling propulsion system.”
“Green.”
Six lights.
“Approving flight plan,” she said.
Five lights.
“Running final checks on life support.”
“Green,” Reyne said.
Four lights.
“Running final checks on electrical.”
“Green.”
Three lights.
“Running final checks on mechanical.”
“Green.”
Two lights.
“Running final checks on all gears.”
“Solar sails green. Landing green,” Reyne said.
One light.
“Approved for launch. Party time.”
The final light went off, and Throttle initiated the launch. All high-g launches required autopilot enabled as backup, but it never kicked on when Throttle was at the controls. With everything entered into the system, the Gryphon shot straight upward. Reyne grunted to retain consciousness as his body slammed against the back of his seat, his arthritic joints sending out small jolts of pain. Blackness tunneled his vision, and he fought to watch his panel to make sure no critical systems went red.
Within seconds, all pressure disappeared, and he could breathe easily.
“We’re free of the atmo,” Throttle said, breathing heavily.
“Well done.” Reyne took a moment to run full system checks. “Everything’s green. We’re ready for jump speed.” A flash of light came from the Honorless’ engines as it went to jump speed right before them. His eyes narrowed and he nodded toward the now disappeared ship. “Catch up to the Honorless. Don’t let them get too much of a lead.”
“Believe me, I won’t,” she said. “I’m running pre-jump sequence—oh…It’s all gone.”
Reyne glanced over to see Throttle staring at the view screen. She had the aft monitors on screen, showing Playa’s surface. While the clouds hid much of the surface, he could see everything was as still and lifeless as he’d seen on his hovercraft trip with Critch.
He clenched his teeth. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure Ice Port gets her payback.”
Chapter Nineteen
Three Captains
Throttle kept the Honorless within visual sight all the way back to Nova Colony’s docks. Of course, Critch could’ve easily outrun them if he’d wanted—he had twice the power—but he hadn’t, likely because Reyne still held the tablet and the only way to contact the CUF commandant.
After they docked, everyone except Sixx remained on board in case Baker brought trouble along. Sixx accompanied Reyne as protection against both the CUF officer and Critch’s people, who seemed to populate the entire Colony.
“We’ll hold the meeting in my office,” Critch said, hardly giving them a glance.
“Nice guy,” Sixx said drily to Reyne after the pirate and several of his crew walked ahead.
Reyne nodded, and they followed Critch into the Uneven Bar and out the back door, through the kitchen, down a wide hallway with crates stacked against both walls, and finally to another door.
Critch entered a long code on the wall panel. The lock clicked, and the door swung open. He strolled inside, followed by three of his crew—including the one who’d left Doc’s bunk in a rush the morning they left Tulan Base—and lastly, Reyne and Sixx.
As soon as they entered, Sixx took up a position between Reyne and Critch’s crew. If the crew tried anything, Reyne would almost feel sorry for what Sixx would do to them. Almost.
Reyne turned his attention to take in the simple room. The first time he’d been here, he’d had a hellish headache and hadn’t expected to leave Nova Colony in one piece. Now, he could appreciate the setup. The room was large—spacious enough for the entire crew of the Honorless to sit at the stone table that took up half the space. The other half was open, with only a rilon desk. A single painting decorated the wall, and Reyne instantly recognized the black-rocked Terran landscape where Critch had been born.
The pirate took a seat in the luxurious leather chair and powered on the panel that covered much of the desk’s surface. “I have a direct line to the docks,” he said. “We’ll know the moment this ‘Baker’ arrives. If you’d prefer to pass the time at the bar—”
“I’ll stay here.” Reyne took a seat across from Critch. “That way, you won’t forget to notify me when our friend lands.”
Critch’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything. He hit a comm on the side of the desk. “Send in a meal for six.”
“Right away, boss,” came an immediate response.
Critch threw a quick glance around the room. “Make yourselves comfortable. We could be here for a while.”
Reyne watched Critch ignore him for the ten minutes it took before several attractive waitresses delivered six trays. He followed them as they placed them on the large table. His mouth watered at his tray of mashed philoseed, cavote pudding, and… “Real meat? How’d you manage to get that out here on the Coast?”
Critch took a seat, grabbed a fork and knife, and began cutting into his steak. “We have a farm in Nova Colony. It raises both goats and chickens. It’s been quite productive.” Then he tacked on, “And highly profitable.”
Reyne went for the meat first. “Critch, you crusty ole pirate, you may have a few surprises in you yet.”
The six of them ate in silence, with only the sound of silverware on plates. Reyne didn’t mind one bit. The last time he had meat was during the Uprising back on Terra. He and Critch had come across a farm that had been bombed by the CUF, and they’d rounded up the injured animals and feasted like kings that night.
Things had changed a lot since then. Yet, it seemed they were coming full circle.
Not long after they finished, the waitresses returned for the trays. Critch had returned to his desk and became intrigued by something on the screen. He tapped his comm. “Intercept whoever leaves that ship, and bring them to me. And keep a close eye on that ship. If it does anything even remotely suspicious, puncture its hull.”
“Yes, sir.”
Reyne’s brows rose, wondering if Critch had given similar instructions regarding the Gryphon.
The pirate leaned back in his chair. “The Ocelot is on my payroll. She’s supposed to be picking up a shipment of blue tea on Spate right about now.”
“I take it that ship isn’t one to just drop by the Coast unexpectedly,” Reyne said.
“Never.”
Reyne leaned forward to watch. Everything was upside down from his vantage point, but he could still see clearly. Several of Nova Colony’s police force marched to the Ocelot. The single person in a suit who walked down the ramp was quickly surrounded, and the herd moved to the pressurization chamber. Critch swiped his hand across the panel, bringing a video of the chamber into view.
Once the moisture cloud dissipated, the newcomer removed his helmet.
Critch motioned to the screen. “I know the captain of the Ocelot, and Miko has never been that good looking.”
“That’s Heid,” Reyne said as a matter of fact.
“He’s a she?”
Reyne nodded. He continued to watch Commandant Heid be escorted into Nova Colony. Critch switched videos again, and they watch her walk into Uneven Bar, where everyone turned to look.
“I know that feeling,” Reyne muttered.
No one attacked Heid, likely because no one knew she was a CUF officer, only that she was too clean-cut to be a Coaster and surrounded by police. She didn’t wear a chimesuit, and Reyne suspected she was wearing a spacesuit from the Ocelot’s crew.
When she arrived Critch’s door, Reyne turned to see her enter.
“Leave us,” Critch ordered. The police leader nodded, and he and his posse departed.
Heid stood there. Recognition lit her features. “Why am I not surprised to see you, Captain Reyne?”
“You shouldn’t be. After all, you put a tracker on my ship.”
Her brows shot up in surprise before she regained her composure. “I like to keep an eye on potential allies.”
“Spying is not a good way to build a relationship,” Reyne said. “Neither is bombing fringe stations.”
Her lips thinned. “That was an unfortunate incident that never should have happened. You have my sincerest condolences.”
“Condolences won’t bring the thirty thousand lives taken at Ice Port,” Reyne snapped back.
“No, they won’t,” she said. “But, I suspect you didn’t invite me here to talk about the attack.”
“We didn’t,” Critch inserted before leaning back. “I’m impressed you made it here alive, Commandant. I wonder if I can say the same about the captain and crew of the ship you came in on.”
She lifted her chin. “I command a CUF warship. How hard do you think it is for me to get a hold of a fringe ship?” When Critch continued to stare, she continued. “You have my word, Captain Miko and his crew are alive and well and enjoying the fine amenities the Arcadia has to offer in return for my use of the Ocelot.”
She cocked her head as she took in both men and smiled. “So tell me, why have I been invited to a reunion of old torrent marshals?”
Reyne glanced at Critch before turning back to her. “I take it you know this fine gentleman. I’d like to formally introduce Critch, captain of the Honorless.”
“Critch, pirate and smuggler, with at least six death sentences on your head.” Heid gave Critch an appraising gaze. “However, you were once known as Drake Fender, infamous torrent marshal of the Uprising, who served with the even more infamous torrent marshal, Aramis Reyne. Somehow, I have a feeling our little meeting has more to do about rebellion than smuggling.”
Reyne cleared his throat and motioned to Heid. “Critch, have the pleasure of the company of Commandant Gabriela Heid, captain of the CUF warship Arcadia, who also seems to go by the codename Baker.”
Critch leaned forward. “I thought you’d be older.”
“And I thought you’d be prettier,” she snapped back.
Reyne leaned back with enjoyment. “I see you two are going to get along splendidly.”
Critch turned to their crewmembers still in the room. “Leave us.”
Sixx eyed Reyne, who nodded, and he followed the pirates out.
“Now, let’s get down to business,” Critch said.
Heid began. “If you have her tablet, that means she keyed it to not self-destruct when it was taken more than ten feet away from her. That confirms my suspicions that she’s dead or no longer a viable asset to the Founders. That, plus, you knew enough to call me Baker, which means you already know far too much for your own good.”
“You know, Critch, I think that sounds an awful lot like a threat,” Reyne mused.
“I agree. I don’t like threats.”
“Not a threat, but a warning,” she said. “There are those who would kill you for what you’ve discovered.”
“Many have tried to kill me in the past,” Critch said. “None have succeeded.”
“Yet. None have succeeded yet,” she cautioned. “The Founders have many resources. You need to be careful.”
Reyne spoke. “And I suppose it’s safe to assume your friends will know about us soon if they don’t already.”
She held up her hands. “They won’t learn from me, assuming we reach some sort of arrangement.”
“Exactly what sort of arrangement do you propose?” Critch asked.
“I propose an arrangement where we don’t work at killing each other.” She strolled over to the desk and took a seat in the chair next to Reyne. She didn’t speak for a long moment, as though contemplating her next words. “The Collective is in jeopardy. If we act now, the colonists can become citizens. If we fail to act, the Collective will implode, and many lives will be lost.”
“The Collective imploding could be the best thing for the fringe,” Critch said.
“Look at Sol Base and Ice Port,” she countered. “The fringe will lose more lives than Myr and Alluvia.”
Critch’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you care what happens to us colonists?”
“Because, contrary to mass media, Alluvia and Myr need the fringe far more than you need them,” she replied. “We depend on the fringe for much of our food and raw material. Right now, Myr is making its move to take control of the fringe stations.” She paused. “You know this already, or else you wouldn’t have bothered to contact me.”
Reyne examined the woman. “Why did you release the blight at the Genics Corp lab?”
Her lips thinned. “We had hoped to discourage those behind Myr’s ambitions.”
“By ‘we’, you mean the Founders,” Reyne said.
She gave a tight nod. “Unfortunately, it seemed to have the opposite effect.”
“Why didn’t the Founders do anything to stop the attack on Sol Base? Or, the attack on Ice Port?” Critch asked.
“Believe me, we tried,” she said. “But, our resources are limited. We can only do so much without going public.”
“So, you’d rather watch hundreds of thousands of innocents die than take a stand,” Reyne said.
Her jaw tightened. “I’m here to take a stand. Otherwise, I’d be on my way back to the fleet as ordered, to turn my ship over to a Myrad captain.” She sighed deeply. “We’re getting ready to fight a war no one wants a part in. Neither the Alluvians nor the Founders want to get involved. A Myrad controls the CUF as well as the blight. Against those odds, a single commandant has little power.”
She looked at both men. “Ausyar will build an empire unless everyone joins forces and stops him. Vym had the vision. I want to see it through.”
Reyne leaned closer. “How can we trust you? How do we know Alluvia won’t step over Myr to take over the Collective once we stop Myr?”
She chuckled drily. “Oh, believe me. There are Alluvians lined up to take control of the Collective if Ausyar fails. I love Alluvia, but what I love more is the idea of a Collective where everyone is equal. If I’m not mistaken, the three of us share that same desire. That was the original goal of the Founders, and it’s still my goal.”
Reyne thought hard and long. “You’re here on your own. You’re not here representing the Founders.”
“The Founders is a group of individuals. Some have different opinions than others.”
“So, officially, whose side are they on?” Reyne asked.
She smirked. “Officially, the Founders don’t exist.”
“Stop with the word games,” Critch said. “Feed it to us straight.”
Heid’s lips thinned. “Think of the Founders as two sides of a coin. On one side, we can count on the support of certain individuals. There are many good people in the Founders, and I won’t betray them. But, on the other side of that coin, we’re doomed if certain individuals find out our plan.”
“Our plan?” Critch echoed.
She nodded tightly.
Reyne motioned. “So, tell us about this plan of yours.”
Chapter Twenty
Impossible Hope
“That’s all there is to it,” Reyne finished.
Every crewmember of the Gryphon stared at him, slack-jawed.
“That’s all,” Sixx echoed.
“Yep.”
“Let me get this straight,” Throttle began. “We’re hijacking a Myrad hauler and running straight through the space barrier to land onto Myr. From there, we get our hands on proof of Myr’s involvement with the blight, proof that we’ll then bring into the heart of Alluvia, where we’ll get it to a Collective news reporter, who will then get Alluvia and the fringe all riled up against Myr.”<
br />
Reyne nodded. “That pretty much sums it up.”
“It’s impossible,” Doc said.
“Which part?” Reyne asked.
“All of it,” she answered.
“For starters, we’re not pirates,” Sixx said. “We’ve never hijacked a ship together.”
“That’s why Critch and a few members of his crew will be joining us. They’ll lead the hijacking expedition.”
“So, we’re officially joining ranks with pirates,” Boden said.
“Torrents,” Reyne corrected. “They’re only pirates on their off-days.”
Sixx smirked. “Okay. We hijack a Myrad ship. Then, we come up to the space barrier. If any of the Myrads on that ship happen to send out a distress signal during the hijacking, then their codes won’t work. The EMP will fry everything in our ship, and we’ll die a cold, suffocating death in space.”
Reyne nodded. “We’ll make sure they never get the chance to make a distress call.”
Sixx continued. “Okay then. Myr is a big world. How are we going to know which province this particular Genics Corp building is in?”
“We’re counting on our Founder pals for that information.”
Doc frowned. “The Founders? They’re an urban legend. They don’t exist.”
“They do exist, and Heid seems to think one of them on Myr is going to help us.”
“We’re aligning with the CUF now, too?” Boden asked, ire darkening his voice.
“Yes, although I suspect after this, Heid will be considered more torrent than CUF.”
“How do you know Critch or Heid won’t betray us?” Doc asked.
“Critch watched his family get slaughtered by Myrads and Alluvians on Terra before the Uprising. He may act like a pirate, but he’ll always be a torrent in his heart. As for Heid, she’s an idealist. They’ll both work with us to see the Uprising happen.” Reyne considered the two captains for a moment. “But don’t forget for a minute that either one of them would set us up if our deaths fit into their plans. We need to cover our asses every step of the way.”
