by M. D. Cooper
The people who had died on that world.
Their deaths were at the hands of her father, Peter Rhoads. The twisted war-hungry patriarch of her family. Not the father she remembered from her childhood, but a blood-thirsty man in his pursuit of a pure human race, free of AI influence and partnership.
Sure, he had always been hard to please, and when she’d broken with the family over their strict beliefs there had been friction, but his message had never been about harming others.
She’d carry his sins on her shoulders until she found a way to make it right. Until she found her brother, Paul, and talked him down from carrying out Dad’s mission—at least that’s how she’d hope it’d go. Kylie didn’t want to put another family member down like a rabid beast.
Kylie drew her thumb across her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “Anything on scan, Ricket?”
Ricket shifted in her seat. “Captain,” Ricket’s voice was strained, “is that information you really need?”
“I’d like to hear it, please. I need to know if there’s anyone out there.” Kylie crossed her arms a little tighter, refusing to look at Rogers as he twisted in his seat to gaze at her. She knew what he’d say.
“All right.” Ricket cleared her throat. “There’s no chance anyone is down on the planet. Surface temperature of Hubei is roughly eleven hundred degrees. Several pieces of the remaining crust appear to be former continents, but with the thick ash clouds, it’s hard to be sure. Several of the planet’s orbital stations are still present, but all are heavily damaged from the debris that was launched into space when the asteroid hit.” She paused to take a breath. Her brown eyes focused back at Kylie, filled with sorrow. “Other than a few scavengers risking all the shit out there—it’s like an orbital minefield—to pick the stations clean, there’s no sign of life. Nothing lives here anymore, Kylie.”
Kylie could imagine the scowl Marge’s avatar would wear if she were to show it.
Maybe Marge did, but Kylie was questioning everything, even the very blood that flowed through her veins. Instead of answering her AI, Kylie sent out a ship-wide message to her crew.
She drew a steadying breath before speaking.
Bubbs—the one crewmember from the Barbaric Queen’s original complement—sent a message via mental avatar. It was of the woman thrusting her cybernetic gun-arm in the air and giving a wink with her one organic eye.
A woman of a few words, mostly action. Kylie liked that. She was going to need that—and Bubbs’ gun-arm.
Kylie hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Their father had lost his mind and been enslaved by some sort of madness. Kylie just hoped it didn’t extend to her brother. She hoped her brother David was wrong and that Paul could be reasoned with.
Kylie rose from her seat and walked forward to stand behind Rogers. “That’s where you come in.” She slapped her hand against his shoulders and he tilted his head back to steal a glance.
A slow smile spread over his face, though that wasn’t what held Kylie’s attention. Thanks to the hardwired connection he had with the ship, Rogers was changing.
Most apparent were his eyes which shone with a soft blue light. Kylie hadn’t yet adjusted to seeing him that way. She was starting to doubt that she ever would.
Rogers winked before looking back at the main holo and switching it to a view of the entire system. “It helps that I get around. And when I get around…”
Ricket snorted and shook her head. “Do you know someone in this system or not? I have contacts I can leverage, but they’re down on Battia…which isn’t a very friendly place these days.”
Rogers grinned. “Ladies, ladies! You know better than to doubt me. I have—”
“A connection in every port.” Ricket smirked, attempting to appear disinterested—a little too hard by Kylie’s measure.
Laura only replied with a chuckle over the Link.
Ricket and Rogers’ constant banter—and often bickering—had provided Kylie with an excellent source of distraction during the two weeks since they’d left Silstrand—especially when Laura got involved.
Laura was still an enigma to Kylie. The AI was different from most Kylie knew, which made sense since she was from the Transcend, not the Inner Stars—a place Kylie hadn’t even known about until a few weeks ago.
From what Kylie had gathered, the AI was used to working alone and typically kept to herself, but Kylie had been working on getting her to participate more. It was especially nice to see that participation come at Rogers’ expense. It reminded her that everyone on board the Barbaric Queen was family.
“So you keep telling me every chance you get,” Ricket said in response to Rogers’ statement regarding ports and girls.
“It’s how we keep such a well-stocked supply of bacon,” Kylie admitted. “Well, once we run out of the motherload that Tanis—I mean Field Marshal Richards—gifted us.”
Rogers moaned and gripped his belly. “You really know how to talk to a guy, Cap. For a warship, the I2 was stocked like it was going on a pleasure cruise.”
“Money can’t buy friends like that,” Kylie replied with a smile.
Bubbs snorted across the shipnet.
“Are you talking about Captain Espensen, or Field Marshal Richards?” Rogers asked.
Rogers leant forward and made some adjustments on his console. He was all business when he spoke. “Since no one wants to drop down onto Battia to meet Ricket’s contacts, I’ll set a course for the Chimin asteroids.”
“Anything we should know before we get there?” Kylie asked.
“It’s a group of larger co-orbital asteroids in the inner system’s main belt. We’ll head to Chimin-1, the operations and management center for the Chimin Group asteroid mines. That rock is mostly mined out—though last time I was through they were still ferreting out some ores. Anyway, Chimin City is built inside it. Population is somewhere under a hundred thousand, varies a lot since most of the workers are usually out on rotation mining other rocks in the area. They also use a number of huge caverns for an extensive farming operation underground. Oats, barley, even corn.”
“Corn in low-g. That’s usually a nightmare.” Kylie rested her hand on the back of Rogers’ chair.
“Asteroid miners are nuts. Takes massive boobs and balls to mine the rock you’re living on,” Ricket mumbled to herself.
“Hazzard pay is good.” Rogers adjusted his speed and broke orbit, heading toward the Chimin asteroids. “We’ll make good time. Two days tops.”
Two more days. Well, I’ve definitely waited around longer. Still, Kylie felt like she was going to jump right out of her skin. “Gre
at,” she mumbled aloud. “Two more days twiddling our thumbs.”
Rogers shrugged. “Is what it is, captain. I can only make the ship go so fast, even with these bad boys.” Rogers stretched his gloved fingers through the air. They looked like standard poly gloves, but with small filaments in them that paired with Rogers’ own nerves, allowing him to control the ship in ways no one else could.
Once again, Kylie found herself distracted by his glowing eyes. If it got too bad, she’d told him, she would find a way to fix the ship to allow for regular helm control. Or fix him so he wasn’t somehow connected to it.
“Anyone on Chimin-1 you think will give us a problem?” Kylie asked.
Rogers shrugged. “Governor Winch runs a tight ship; stern, but fair. If we run into him, best we be on good behavior. I’ll see if I can get my contact to meet us on the docks. We’ll get the intel we’re after and be off that rock like it’s a hot potato.”
Kylie couldn’t argue with that.
“Marge,” Rogers drawled, “we land on hot potatoes all the time. It’s our jam.”
Ricket threw her arm over the back of her chair as she turned toward Rogers. “Your friend on Chimin-1. Nice guy?” Ricket asked with a cocked eyebrow.
“Arms dealer.”
Ricket groaned and Rogers rushed on to explain.
“She’s a nice arms dealer.”
“She?” Ricket’s cocked eyebrow rose a little higher. “Why aren’t I surprised?”
“Why aren’t you surprised that space is filled with women? Maybe because you’re smart, Ricket,” Rogers said.
Ricket’s eyebrows lowered and her lips formed a small smirk. “I bet she’s pretty.”
Rogers laughed and clapped his hands together. “Ricket, they’re all pretty.”
Kylie slapped Rogers on the shoulder. “It’s OK, Ricket. Rogers here has never steered me wrong. Well, except for that one time—no, make it two.”
“Those times don’t count, Cap.”
Kylie grinned. “You don’t even know which times I’m referring to.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Rogers shot back. “I’m sure they don’t count.”
Marge chuckled and spoke privately to Kylie.
Kylie did her best to keep her chuckle under wraps.
Kylie almost smiled at Marge’s poor attempt at poetic humor but managed to hold it in check.
Ricket turned in her seat to face Kylie, her large eyes earnest and serious. “You’re sure about this? The people in this system are on edge. We’ve been pinged half a dozen times since we came in. If we weren’t in such a big ship, someone would have probably told us to leave.”
“Well, we won’t find anything about where my brother’s ships went from out here. Rogers has a contact on Chimin-1. We use the contact. Risks or not, we’re going in. But right now—since Rogers brought it up—all I can think about is bacon.”
“This is why we’re friends,” Rogers said, pointing his finger at her and giving a wink and a nod.
DINNER AND A FIGHT
STELLAR DATE: 11.01.8948 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: The Barbaric Queen, approaching Hubei
REGION: Hanoi System (independent)
Kylie had to admit that gathering around a table with food and beer, surrounded by a good crew, was one of the best things about plying the black.
The main galley and dining hall were the most popular rooms on the ship and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Even though the Barbaric Queen had been a pirate captain’s flagship for years, it was still, at its heart, a luxury liner with a kitchen built to serve thousands.
And the crew enjoyed everything about it.
The stoves and ovens were state of the art, not to mention the ArcticFrost brand chillers that could make a beer icy cold in less than two seconds. And the counter space. They could prepare every meal for a month in a new spot and never reuse the same surfaces.
Even as Kylie stood in the galley, she couldn’t believe it was really hers. She was captain of the Barbaric Queen and that was something you just didn’t get to say every day.
And she could only say it because Nadine, her former lover, had secured the ship. Nadine had ripped it away from Kingfisher—who had been hunting Kylie and the Dauntless for months—just so she could find Kylie and save her.
This prize was hers only because Nadine had given it to her, and the Silstrand Alliance hadn’t put up a fight only because Grayson had forced them to honor their promise to grant her a letter of marque. It wasn’t something Kylie would forget any time soon.
The bitterness of Nadine’s betrayal, however, would always be with her.
And Grayson? Best not to think about him too much either.
One of the sinks was filled with dirty pots and pans, the beef fat seared onto them leaving a rustic meaty aroma behind. She wondered whose turn it was to do dishes, and why they didn’t have bots to handle that. Maybe Bubbs knew where they were.
Kylie grabbed the freshly brewed pot of coffee and poured some into the ‘Kiss the Captain’ mug left behind by the previous owner. It was almost identical to the one that Nadine had bought her once—probably still on the Dauntless deep in Jericho’s rift valley.
The thought that Kingfisher and Nadine may have once frequented the same gift shop amused Kylie, even though she knew there were probably a thousand places that sold this mug.
She swirled the coffee in her cup; the brew was thick as sludge, dark as a black hole—in other words, just the way she liked it.
Kylie cringed as she sipped it. Now that would put hairs on a woman’s chest. With her track record in romance, maybe that was exactly what she needed.
She headed into the dining hall. It was a vast space with dozens of tables spread out in long rows, but the crew always sat together at one near the center. The other four inhabitants of the ship laughed jovially, their voices carrying across the room as they reached over one another, heaping food onto their plates.
Mashed potatoes, meatloaf, crispy peppered bacon, and buttered peas. A feast of organically grown delights normally reserved for only the wealthiest, all courtesy of Tanis, and the I2’s larders.
Kylie settled into her chair, grabbed her plate and threw down a scoop of mashed potatoes before reaching for a slice of meatloaf with her fingers.
“You’re all class, captain,” Bubbs said as she scooped up mashed potatoes using the nub of her arm, where an elbow should be, and dropped it onto her plate. Kylie had no idea Bubbs could eat so many potatoes in one sitting. Maybe she had a second stomach.
“Just glad to see that you know better than to bring your gun arm to dinner.” Kylie licked her fingers and sat down beside Rogers. He slid over a bit to make a spot for her, giving her his boyish smile.
Bubbs lips drew up in what had to be her own attempt at a smile. “Best to keep weapons away. Wouldn’t want to kill whoever’s hogging the gravy boat.” She turned her eyes over to Rogers, giving him a pregnant stare.
He paused mid-bite, his eyes widening. “You,” he cleared his throat, “you never made your intentions clear about the gravy boat.”
She leaned forward and whispered, “Everyone loves gravy. Everyone.”
Kylie laughed as Rogers squeaked in response. Even Marge gave a hearty, yet polite chuckle. Though Kylie could tell from the distracted vibe her AI gave off, she was busy reading one of her books again.
“How’s the ship treating you?” Kylie asked.
Rogers shrugged. “Right as rain, Cap. No problems so far. I’ll tell you if that changes.”
“Just want to make sure we’re on the same page. I won’t lose anyone else.”
“I appreciate that.” Rogers chomped on a roll. “Anyone know what’s in the butter surprise?”
“Tofu mixed with olive oil.” Ricket laughed, slamming her hand down on the table. Simultaneously, Rogers and Winter groaned and spat out their rolls into white napkins.
“Ricket!” Winter leaned forward and pointed his fork at her. “You can’t be feeding us tofu. You’ll get our macho cards revoked at the door.”
“Door prize for Winter.” Ricket threw her arm around his shoulder and pulled him down closer to her. “Silky tofu and a tutu skirt. I’d love to see you wearing it on your head.”
“Baah!” Winter turned several shades redder than he already was. Which looked a little gross on an albino. Kylie doubted anyone would get away with that other than Ricket. She had a way of disarming people with her nonsensical, yet compellingly funny banter.
Bubbs tossed a pea into her mouth, her lips twisting into a grimace-like snarl that Kylie had learned was the woman’s smile. “I’d like to take a picture of that and cast it all over the Nets. You know? Tough boy, Winter. Except when he’s wearing a tutu,” Bubbs said.
Winter scowled back at her. “Bubbs, some days you make me want to put you into a choke hold—for a good three or four minutes, at least.”
Bubbs raised her eyebrows. “I’d like to see you try. Might be good to take a few wagers then. Anyone else as bored as me?”
Rogers and Ricket cheered. Kylie nodded as she sat back and poured some of the slow-moving coffee down her throat. She watched as Ricket established a betting pool on the shipnet, credits and bets appearing on the ledger.
