by A. R. Knight
"Cut engines. Rear jets!" Merc said.
The Viper's main engines paused, while the fighter's maneuvering jets kicked in, wrenching the back of the ship around while its momentum carried it over the edge of the engine back. Merc looked out at the long block of engines along the bottom of the cockpit's window. The Viper's belly exposed. An easy kill for a second.
"Go! Shields bottom!" Merc said, and the fighter lurched as the engines came back to life, its motion still carrying it out from the frigate. Stuck still in space.
The scout ship took advantage, loosing a barrage of lasers. They smashed into the Viper's shields, the console flashing red as the last of the energy gave out. Merc ignored the wailing alarms as a pair of bolts dug into the craft's armor. Then the frigate's engines cut off the scout ship's firing line. Glancing at the console, the outline of the Viper still showed all green. No critical damage. Behind him, the scanner showed the scout ship overshooting Merc's angle, forcing it into a long loop past the frigate.
Merc swooped to the underside of the frigate, then skated the Viper alongside the hull. Kept the Viper close so those guns wouldn't be able to turn fast enough to get off a shot. The shields, given a hot second without getting hit, were coming back, fuzzing into life. The only question was—
There! The Omni darted down from the frigate's top-side, lasers flashing. Merc nudged the Viper closer to the hull. The console flared yellow, the proximity alert. Less than a meter of space, but the Omni overplayed its ambush. It was beneath the Viper now. Any shots up would score against the frigate's hull. Against their own shields.
"C'mon, don't shoot," Merc said as the Viper raced towards the frigate's bow. The Omni hesitated and the Viper increased the distance, launching out in front of the frigate. Merc pulled up, still heading back towards the Amerigo, but keeping the frigate in the firing line. Scattered lasers from the frigate's turrets blew past the Viper, but Merc's random twitches kept them guessing.
"All engines." Merc said, routing all of the Viper's shield power to the jets. A moment later Merc kicked back into his seat as the Viper jumped forward, speeding back towards the Amerigo.
Alive. He was alive. Only, he was running. For the first time, Merc was running from a fight. Like a coward.
17
Boarding Party
"We can't run," Davin said. "Literally, can't."
"But we can answer," Viola said. "If they're using static bursts to transmit, maybe they can pick something up."
Viola watched Davin reach over to the console and tap his way through a few menus until the schematics of the Karat sat in front of them. The ship's ovoid shape made clear its purpose as a mining vessel. A large hold along the bottom for storing goods, with layers of lab and crew space overhead. The bridge sat towards the pointed front, far away from the bottom-rear loading doors. If something went wrong with the cargo, there'd be plenty of seals to keep the pilots alive.
The two small bays for landing craft were at the top center. Viola figured it was because the Karat could be in some nasty territory, and being able to keep other ships as far from the extraction source was a good plan. Wouldn't be a bad idea to take these schematics and send them to her father. A little corporate espionage on the side.
"Let's keep quiet," Davin said. "Radio's not secure. Gage is thinking this ship might not be his anymore, so any heads-up we give will only warn someone we're coming."
"Don't we need them to open the bay doors?" Viola said.
"Nope. Remote override," Davin said. "Gage gave us the codes on our way out. Meant for emergency recovery operations like this one. We'll get close, beam the code over, and the doors should open."
"Which means they'll know we're there before we land," Opal said.
"What, scared of a few space pirates?" Davin replied.
Opal shook her head and went aft. The shuttle was coming up fast on the Karat, only a few minutes till they'd hit broadcast range. Without the right wing working, landing the shuttle would be less docking and more crashing. Those maneuvering jets stressed getting the shuttle off the ground, they wouldn't help with breaking. And any major reverse thrust from the engines relied on the wings keeping the craft stable. Pull hard, and the weaker side curled, a boat with only one paddle.
"Strap in," Viola said, using the shuttle's intercoms to carry the command to the back. "It's not going to be a nice landing."
They came up on the Karat, the larger ship spreading out in front of them like a whale in one of Earth's oceans. Neptune's fog blurred the edges, making the Karat look like more a portal to a misty dimension. Only when the shuttle passed through the last cloud bank did Eden's secret ship manifest itself.
"Whoa," Viola didn't say so much as breathed.
The Karat was an emerald at dusk, bands of green hues looping around one another. There were no protrusions, none of the bulky modules that made up most ships as their owners mixed and matched functionality. Whatever engines keeping the Karat aloft were hidden somewhere in the aft, covered by the body.
"It makes no sense," Davin said. "It's a mining vessel!"
"What is it even made of?" Viola said, and was about to rattle off a few more questions before catching herself. The only people that could answer were on that ship, and if Captain Gage was right, they'd be trying to kill her soon enough.
"Now I understand," Davin said.
"You do?"
"Why bother trying to hijack a mining vessel? Neptune's huge. Just get your own ship and grab some gems. But if the Karat is the real reward . . .”
Viola angled the ship towards the twin bays. Or at least where they should be. The Karat's top was a smooth dome that flowed into the rest of the ship. No visible space to dock. At least, not yet.
"Ready with the code?" Viola asked.
"Aren't we moving a little fast for a landing?"
"Our momentum's the only thing keeping us straight. We brake, this shuttle's going to go all over the place. I'd like to know where I'm aiming before that happens."
"You crash us into the side of this beautiful ship, you're paying for it."
"So nice," Viola said, wondering what the cost to fix a scratch on the Karat would cost. Probably more than every coin she'd earned in her entire life.
Davin flipped the console to the shuttle's short-range comm and plugged in the code. When he tapped the send button, the shuttle would blast the code in all directions. Anything that was listening would get the message. Anyone, too. But the code was only numbers, meaningless unless the Karat hijackers knew it too.
"Here we go,” Davin said, tapping the send button.
Cracks appeared in the top of the Karat, a top they were drawing way too close to. A platform rose out of the top of the ship, twenty meters wide. Beneath the hull was an open space tall enough for the shuttle to fit into, followed by a more standard gray metal floor. Viola could see through the bay and out the other end. Dual-side docking. Very cool.
"At least they didn't paint the inside the same color,” Davin said. "It's not a space ship without gray hallways."
The shuttle didn't have air brakes. The intent was to use atmospheric drag and the main engines to slow thrust, then switch to the maneuvering jets when you were close enough to land. Problem was, with Neptune's winds blowing along behind them, there wasn't any way the shuttle would slow enough to dock with just the jets alone. And when Viola switched the main thrust into reverse, the shuttle shook as if some giant creature had taken hold of it as a toy.
Viola kept one eye on their air speed while the other paid attention to their angle of descent. The platform was coming up quick, they'd be hitting it or passing it in ten seconds. Right now, it'd be the first one. Davin yammered about braking this or turning that. Puk stated useless facts like how the shuttle wasn't designed for a landing in these winds. Viola tuned them both out and focused.
Nine.
Viola dialed up the power to the engines and the shuttle turned right, the corkscrew from the damaged wing.
Eight.
/>
A swipe of the console flipped the diagram to the landing controls.
Seven.
The platform was way to the left. Viola tapped the button for the maneuvering jets on the right side, switching the flight stick to her left hand.
Six.
The nose of the shuttle passed over the outskirts of the Karat, the teal air below changing into a hard light green mass.
Five.
The maneuvering jets kicked in on the right side, boosting the shuttle to the left. Their airspeed was nearing the point where the shuttle would drop like a rock.
Four.
Viola pulled the flight stick back, pointing the nose of the shuttle up. At the same time, with her left hand, she cut the reverse thrust.
Three.
Swapping hands again, Viola tapped the console and started the rest of the maneuvering jets.
Two.
The shuttle was now sinking, the nose passing just beneath the roof of the platform. Viola cut the engines. The shuttle lurched as its mass fell into the hands of the maneuvering jets.
One.
With the platform beneath them, Viola triggered one last shot of the reverse thrust, bringing the shuttle into a stall. The nose pointed too high, and the jets weren't correctly placed to catch the shuttle. They were going to hit hard.
"Hang on!" Viola yelled.
The shuttle fell and struck the platform with its aft first, the impact causing the nose to slam downward. The jets caught some of the swing, bouncing Viola out of her seat but not into the ceiling, her hands slapping at the console to kill the alarms.
"Won't say that's the prettiest landing I've ever seen," Davin said, releasing his straps. "You all right?"
"Mmhmm," Viola said, climbing back into her seat.
"Good. Let's go takeover a ship."
18
The Jumper
Something was always breaking on a ship. Or about to break. This time, it was the rear-left landing strut. Trina saw the readings when the Jumper landed on the Amerigo, the brief flash of yellow on her status grid that displayed back near the engines, her haunt while the ship was in motion. A flash that meant, for a hot moment as the Jumper settled into the bay, the strut almost broke and sent the ship crashing into the floor. Not good when you're in potentially hostile territory.
The problem turned out to be a pair of bolts that during the flight out had either been hit by passing space junk - though, since the struts recoiled in flight, it wasn't likely, or had worn down over time. Either way, the bolts were loose and the joint connecting the strut to the Jumper wouldn't handle too many more trips before snapping in half. Thankfully, bolts were something Trina always had handy. Like food, the Wild Nines would die without them.
"Trina!" Erick yelled from the Jumper's ramp. "You're not on your comm!"
Trina blinked at the statement, then glanced over where her toolbox sat on the freighter bay floor. Her comm was sitting on top of it. No reason to have the device get scuffed while she took the strut apart.
"Should I be?" Trina replied.
"Merc's flying back to the freighter!" Erick said.
"He took them all down already?" Trina replied.
"No, he was outnumbered. We have to get out there and help him out,” Erick was waving at her to come towards the ramp. Trina back at the strut. One bolt still had to be swapped out. Attack or no, if the Jumper lifted off now, there'd be no chance it would land again. Not nicely, anyway.
"That's not a good idea. One of our struts needs fixing."
"How long?"
"How much time do I have?"
"Phyla's coming. You've got till she gets here."
"That's an impossible calculation," Trina said. "But I will try."
The doctor nodded and vanished back up the ramp. Trina applied her wrench to the bolt, spinning it. With the three of them, the Jumper wasn't crewed for a fight. Someone had to watch the engines. Had to fly. And then another two people on the guns. No amount of math would turn three of them into four. Trina gave the wrench a final turn and the bolt popped off.
The strut groaned, the weight put on the first bolt she'd switched out. Trina watched it for a second, making sure it could hold the stress. Redundancy was a serious word. Every system, every part on the Jumper needed a back-up. If they could support it, Trina would've advocated the same for the human element. Turned out people are too expensive.
As Trina grabbed the new bolt and slotted it in, she heard the undulating whine of the Jumper's engines going through their pre-flight cycles. Sounding darn good, too. No stuttering, no unexpected clogging of the vents. Hearing a perfect sound like that, well, it was like listening to a symphony. The synchronized success of so many pieces making the machine hum.
And then a loud shriek of metal grating against its own un-oiled self. The bay doors were closing fast, shooting down from the top and bottom of the bay to meet in the middle with a crashing clang. The Jumper was trapped.
19
The Halls
"The traitor shut the doors from the back-up bridge," Gage said through the comm.
"Can't you open them?" Phyla asked, running through the freighter's hallways towards the Jumper's bays. "We don't get out there, Merc has no support. And you will have a boarding party knocking on your door."
"Nothing. They have the override codes, and the back-up bridge is only designed for use if this one can't work."
Phyla could almost hear the shrug through the comm. The captain sounded resigned, doomed to lose the game. Phyla didn't have time for that crap, though. Not when her pilot was out there.
"If Merc's stuck out there, he's going to die," Phyla said. "You need a place for him to dock, now."
"Can't he run?"
As she jogged, Phyla kept looking for a terminal, a console, any place that might let her into the Amerigo's computer system. She didn't believe for a minute that the bay doors could be closed and locked from some back-up bridge, but the captain might not know how to handle it. Or didn't care. Gage's remark about them being paid to die played itself in Phyla's head. Lock Merc out, force him to fight, and maybe the pilot would take out one or two enemy ships before dying.
Phyla's comm beeped. Merc calling.
"Stay tuned, Captain," Phyla said, clicking to Merc's channel. "Hit me, hotshot."
"Why's the bay closed?"
"Gage says it's the traitor and he doesn't have a way of opening it."
"Does Gage know his other bays are open?"
"What?"
"The cargo bays. I'm angling towards one now. I have a couple minutes lead on them. Should be able to ground this guy in a couple seconds. If Gage could close the door behind me, I'd be pretty happy."
"Will send. Land safe, then find your way up to us."
"You got it. And Phyla?"
"Yeah?"
"Sorry I wasn't able to do more out there."
"Save the pity party for later," Phyla said, flipping the comm back to Gage's channel. "Captain, I'm going to need you to close your cargo bay doors as soon as my guy lands."
"Can do."
Phyla clicked off and continued running. The metal floors weren't the best surface for it, her boots pounding every step into ground that didn't give a millimeter. Her boots weren't made for jogging. More for comfort and, if the situation required it, a kick to the face. Quinn's sidearm pumped with her right hand. She hadn't seen any other crew, but they were probably following whatever Eden's hostile boarding procedures dictated. Sealing themselves in a room and praying.
"Davin, I will punch you when you get back," Phyla muttered between breaths. Hoped they were having a blast down there, saying hi to Neptune while Phyla dealt with a bunch of raiders.
The hallway widened and split into a gradual ramp, with one half continuing on her level. Up that ramp were the passenger bays, one of which the Jumper occupied. Phyla ran up the shallow incline, designed for any cargo that needed manual moving between the levels.
"Almost there," Phyla commed to Eric
k. "How's pre-flight?"
"Fine, but it won't mean anything if we can't get those doors open."
"Once I'm there, I'll be able to hack the freighter from the Jumper's computer," Phyla replied. It shouldn't be hard. Phyla kept the Jumper loaded with the finest in cracking weaponry. Once she networked with a ship, Phyla could, with a bit of time, get her victim to open up all its electronic secrets. Like solving puzzles, only the prize for winning was survival.
This hallway, stretching by the bays, was half the width Eden Prime's, but empty. No cover. Which became a concern when the hallway's alarms sounded an incoming ship. But Gage said all the passenger bays were closed, locked down.
Phyla ran by the first bay, looked in, and saw space. Space that was filling with a pair of ships Phyla didn't recognize. One was an Omni, another an oval covered in sensor dishes and small guns.
"Gage?" Phyla commed. "Why is bay one open?"
"I've been telling you we have someone on the inside," Gage moaned. "They must have just opened them. For the raiders."
"Them?"
"All the bays. Except for the one your ship is in. They're showing open."
The Jumper was in the last of five bays. The closest one to the bridge, but the farthest from Phyla. A long run. If she was caught out here, there'd be no chance. Nowhere to hide.
"Erick," Phyla commed, backing down the ramp. "Seal the ship. Arm the turrets. Anyone comes in that bay, you blast them to Hell."
"What? Where are you?"
"They've cut me off. I'm going to try to get to the bridge and get your bay open. When it does, I'm going to need you to get the Jumper out of there."
"But I'm not a pilot."
"Today, you are," Phyla clicked off as a whooshing noise came from farther along the hallway, up the ramp. The first boarders were out. Phyla cursed, turned, and ran back the way she'd come.
20
