by Jay Allan
“No!”
She placed a hand over her mouth, watching them flail about for a few seconds before they stopped moving. It was a cruel, macabre moment, yet sickening and fascinating to watch. Another blasted away with its safety seals open without a single person inside. Right behind it came another, its engines spinning the craft wildly out of control. Kirya muttered to herself, her body shaking in stunned surprise.
“Are they insane? Are they intentionally trying to kill the crew and passengers?”
Two more blasted away, but each time she found it impossible to take her eyes off the mystery vessel docked alongside. She trusted her instincts enough and knew something was up.
So what’s going on here? Stay cool, stay calm, and stay alive. Right now, I reckon it’s safer to stay on the ship than risk one of those things.
The speakers crackled to life for the very last time.
“This is your final warning. All remaining lifeboats will jettison in thirty seconds.”
The three people that had made the wrong turn appeared. They hurtled past Kirya and through the automatic doors. Those inside continued to scream, and one tugged on a lever to detach them from the ship.
“Get inside, or stay!”
Kirya shouted back to them, desperate to save even one of their lives.
“Get out of the boat. They’re failing. It’s a death trap!”
They ignored her and pulled frantically on the levers. They didn’t know her, so why should they listen to her? Kirya turned back to the wall and looked for a computer system. There was nothing other than the standard internal intercom system. She reached for it and slammed her hand on the control.
“I’m on Deck Six. Report. All hell is breaking loose down here.”
There was a whistling sound, followed by an irritated voice.
“Don’t use the intercoms. Wait until the evacuation is complete. Then we’ll begin. If you find any strays, lock them in the brig. If any of them resist, space ‘em!”
Kirya gasped as she listened to this. The voice was gruff, even a little angry, but more important, it was not coming from anybody she’d heard before. He didn’t sound friendly or like a member of the crew. A sound caught her attention, and she looked back at the doors, and the face of the woman calling out to her. The woman’s mouth was wide open and screaming as the lifeboat jettisoned from the ship. Many more followed as more than thirty blasted away. Kirya’s heart pounded in her chest upon realising she was the last passenger aboard, yet she now knew there were others on the ship.
I’m not leaving until I find out what the hell is going on here.
CHAPTER TWO
Interplanetary Liner ‘Starlighter’
17th July 2433AD
Six men and two women moved along the wide passageway in silence. The klaxon stopped, though the emergency warning lights continued flooding the place with a dull, red glow. This part of the ship was as elegant as the passenger quarters with tall, beige walls, designed with gentle, flowing curves and an off-white, almost beige colouring. Long panels in the ceiling and walls provided ambient light, although these were currently in low power mode. A trio of men stepped out from a side door, carrying heavy holdalls in their hands. One man in particular stood out more than the others. He wore a heavy jacket that obscured his shape, yet his head sported a strange Mohawk design. It would have been amusing had it not been for the grim, tattooed face beneath it.
“Branko, good to see you made it.”
The leader of the group slowed to a halt and looked at the men carefully.
“Armando Rocco…so you’re the other group hired for this job. I take it you got the memo? You brought the goods, right?”
Armando looked to his comrades.
“Of course. We’re already on it. You’ve secured the ship? Remember, no witnesses.”
“Yeah,” said Branko, “We’ve got the ship, all thanks to a few friends we planted on board. Just make sure the charges are positioned and set. I want full control transferred to the ship’s computer. I’ll take it from there.”
Armando didn’t seem to like that and walked up to Branko. They both waited there just centimetres apart.
“Who put you in charge?”
Seven mercenaries cocked their weapons and aimed them directly at Armando. Branko chuckled to himself as he pulled out a stick of gum from a pocket. He popped a piece in his mouth and began chewing.
“Let’s not go down that route, huh? Now, tell me, your ship is docked at the starboard hull docking ring, right?”
Armando hesitated, but every one of them knew he was beaten. So he took one step back.
“Yeah. We have what we need.”
“Good.” Branko stepped past him as though the man was of no significance.
“Get to work and let me know when you’re done. We’ve got a schedule to keep, and I’ve got a captain to meet.”
Branko pushed past and carried on walking down the passage, leaving the other small group of mercenaries behind them. Zena spoke when they were out of sight.
“Armando is an ass. Can he do his part?”
Branko barely showed any expression as he continued chewing.
“Armando got kicked out of the Army years ago. He might be an ass, but he’s got connections in all the right places.”
He gave her an odd smile.
“Trust me, he’ll have what he needs. All we have to worry about is that he doesn’t set them off early.”
They kept on moving through the dark passages, passing closed doorways, occasionally stepping over tipped boxes and crates from the rushed evacuation.
“Any moment now,” said the man towards the back of the group. His face was hidden behind a gleaming metal plate, with thin strips cut out in front of the eyes. It looked like some form of assault armour, but based on the markings and detailing, more likely there for fashion.
The lights flickered in a three-pulse sequence. As they slowly increased in brightness, the clothing and equipment of the group became clearer. No two were dressed or equipped alike, yet their nonconformity gave them a cohesive look of their own. They carried layered body armour, intermixed with thick leather and the occasional piece of misplaced military plating. Half wore helmets, but not the man at the front. He was Branko Gregor, a middle-aged, well-built, and dangerous looking man. He sported a bald head, and a hard, almost cruel expression on his face. He moved with confidence, betraying his position among the eight of them. They all carried firearms, but Branko Gregor was the only one without one in his hands. Instead, a single pistol hung low at his flank.
“There, right ahead,” said Zena, the woman standing right behind him. She was taller than the average height in the entire group. She was dressed in black from head to toe and had a heavy brown pack on her back. In her hands was a cut down double-barrelled thermal shotgun, with a ribbed receiver and ventilated barrel shrouds. The modifications were minor, but quickly converted the civilian weapon into something militaristic.
“Yeah,” said Branko, “That’s the place.”
They covered the last few metres, and as they reached the thick, translucent doors, they hissed open to reveal the brightly lit, grandiose bridge.
* * *
Kirya hurried back through the ship, this time being extra careful before passing through any doors or bends. She knew the ship’s layout pretty well; at least the parts open to passengers. Years of training and experience had taught her well, and that hard work was paying off. Other passengers had boarded the ship and headed straight to their quarters, but not her. She’d checked the evacuation routes, parallel passages, and recreation areas, satisfying her need to build a mental map.
I need to get to the bridge first. Maybe the Captain knows what’s going on.
It didn’t take long to work her way from the evacuation deck and her own habitation ring to reach the inner ring. There were a pair of transparent doors leading between the two sections, and though Kirya knew she needed to get inside, something held her back. Sh
e hesitated. There was no sign of movement, so she held her breath and moved closer. The doors opened, revealing the moving floor on the other side. It was no faster than walking pace, requiring little more effort than stepping onto an escalator.
The shift in gravity felt a little odd as she transferred from the larger outer ring. The crew ring had a smaller diameter, but was substantially thicker. The larger outer ring housed all the niceties of the vessel, but the inner part was only for the crew, and off-limits to passengers except on special occasions. They moved at different speeds to ensure they could maintain something close to standard gravity, and it extended to cover a full third of the ship’s length.
“Right, where next?”
As she looked deep inside the crew section, she could see well-lit passages ahead both forward and aft, as well as many side entrances leading off to galley areas and stores. Signage near the entry doors marked the position of the bridge and recreation areas. A final and much smaller one pointed to engineering and passenger support.
Support, what the hell is that?
A single bang rang out through the ship, and Kirya dropped to one knee. She knew the sound of a firearm anywhere, and in an instant her heart began to race. Combat was one thing, but she was here with no friends, no intelligence on the situation, and no weapons.
The bridge.
Without giving it a thought, she raced for the nearest galley door and reached for the handle. To her relief, it slid open without a sound. She jumped inside, and just as the door shut, a pair of heavily armed individuals walked past. She made out their shapes through the crack in the door as it sealed without a sound. On a transport ship, it probably would have banged, but not aboard this luxury liner. She’d boarded the ship months earlier, and the fixtures and fittings were unlike any she’d previously seen on a vessel.
Pirates!
* * *
“Well, look what we have here,” said Branko Gregor.
The others followed him in, and two remained in the passage. Rather than step inside, they turned about and waited, flanking the entrance like a pair of sentries. Branko continued walking to the centre of the room. It was a spacious section, and much bigger than normal on civilian ships.
“This is one hell of a pretty ship, ain’t she?”
He scanned the room, picking out the computer systems and large displays that doubled as windows out into space. There were no physical windows here, something made relatively pointless by virtue of the habitation sections being in a state of continuous rotation. He stopped and nodded towards the men clustered around the captain’s chair. They wore the standard civilian uniform of the liner company. The man on the right grinned upon seeing the new arrivals.
“Branko Gregor, glad you made it. We did our part as agreed.”
He nodded but focussed his attention on the prisoner.
“Ah…there he is, the Captain himself. Got himself aboard a starship. And now here you are, adrift and with no passengers to speak of.”
He then smiled and examined the data scrolling vertically on the largest screen. It took seconds to soak in the data before he moved back to the Captain. The old man’s chair was bronze-coloured, vastly oversized for the bridge, and faced towards the largest of the displays. There were multiple stations dotted around the bridge, and all of them currently empty. One was stained in red, and Branko Gregor glanced towards it and the two bodies slumped on the floor.
“Ouch. Looks like somebody didn’t get with the programme.”
He moved towards the captain’s chair. The older looking man looked up to him, his face bruised and marked. At his flanks were three of the ship’s crew, and all were armed with improvised pistols.
“Who are you?”
Branko Gregor winked at him.
“That’s the wrong question…old timer. Now. Let’s start again, shall we?”
He looked across to the three crewmembers.
“Outstanding work, my friends. You did your work, as promised.”
The first crewman nodded.
“Of course. It took time, but like we said, we can do it.”
Branko lowered his head into a polite nod. He then grinned towards the Captain.
“You see what happened here?”
He pointed to his men, and then to his chest.
“Respect. We work for a common purpose, and with that comes understanding. Now, the real question is for you. Work with me, and you and your crew will survive this little ordeal.”
He then placed both clenched fists on his chest.
“But screw with me, and I’ll space the lot of you.”
The Captain swallowed uncomfortably, and then nodded ever so slowly.
“Good. Now, all I need to know is, have you unlocked the bridge controls?”
The Captain started to speak, but the nearest crewman grabbed him around the chin and turned him to face Branko Gregor.
“Answer him.”
“I…what do you want here? The passengers have gone, and now…”
“Uh…didn’t you just hear what I said?”
The Captain nodded again slowly.
“You want the bridge controls. Well, yes, they are unlocked. It’s standard procedure during an evacuation. The compartment seals are unlocked, the power plant is shut down, and…”
“I see.”
He then looked back towards Zena.
“What does the computer say?”
She lowered her pack to the ground, pulling out a small device with a half exposed circuit board on one side. She walked over to the computer units on the left side of the bridge and plugged the unit into the system. In seconds, the lights activated. She then withdrew one of the newer model datapads from her pack and checked the screen.
“Navigation, life support…yeah, it’s all active and unlocked.”
A smile formed across Branko Gregor’s face.
“Excellent, so that means we have full access to the ship.”
“Uh…wait a second,” said Zena, “I’m seeing compartments sealed in the lower hull.”
She lifted her gaze to Branko and shook her head.
“It’s the cargo deck.”
His expression changed from pleasure to feigned anger.
“Now that’s not part of the deal, is it?”
He moved closer and lowered his hand down tentatively to his flank.
“The ship is dead in space, right?”
The Captain nodded.
“Good. Good. And the ship’s compartments from bow to stern are all unlocked to facilitate evacuation and rescue. Correct?”
Yet again the Captain nodded, and this time his expression shifted to pure and utter rage.
“So…why in the name of everything holy did you close down the cargo area?”
The Captain hesitated, so Branko Gregor withdrew the firearm and pointed it at the man.
“I won’t ask again, old man.”
“It’s standard practice now. The rules changed before our last run to prevent…piracy.”
One of the crewmen at his flank sniggered.
“It’s true. I have no control over it. Only the company can unseal the cargo area, and only when the ship is at port.”
He shook his head desperately.
“Not even I have access. There’s no internal access for the crew, and from the outside the ship is…”
“Protected by two metres of hull plating and secure hatches to protect from microsatellite damage, or even theft. Yes…we know that,” said Zena.
“So you see, there is nothing I can do. It is…”
He started to mumble, so Branko moved closer, lowering himself down so that his head was exactly the same height as the Captain’s.
“Is that a fact?”
“Yes, it is.”
“So…in that case I have no use for you, do I?”
The old man hesitated, realising what he’d just done. He opened his mouth to speak again, and this time the gun was resting on his temple. Branko whistled to himself and
then stopped abruptly.
“I want external seals one through three opened, and vented. And then I want the engines brought back online.”
The Captain tried to speak, but he pushed the pistol in closer to his head.
“Uh…uh…I have ten of your crew in the brig. Isn’t that so?”
Branko Gregor beamed, showing his front teeth as he smiled.
“Now. Let’s talk about getting those engines back online, shall we?”
The Captain, now suitably chastened, pointed towards the controls near the bodies.
“That’s helm. You can adjust our course right there.”
Branko Gregor smiled.
“Excellent. Forty-eight hours is all we need. After that, you and your friends will be set free. We’ve kept one lifeboat just for you. Alive and safe. Well…most of you.”
CHAPTER THREE
Interplanetary Liner ‘Starlighter’
It took Kirya almost thirty minutes to work her way through the labyrinth of passages used by the crew. They were smaller than the main compartments, and many of them were shrouded in darkness. Luckily for her, a number of schematics on the walls provided details of the ship, as well as the service shafts that ran from bow to stern. Even so, by the time she reached the command level it, was clear something was up. The service shaft ended as it routed back to the main corridor, a place glowing with bright light.
Okay, according to the map, the bridge is to the right.
She moved to the door and placed a hand on it. It was cool to the touch, and though all it would take was a pull, she remained cautious.
