by A. R. Knight
Back down the hallway, back to Silwa lying on the mattress. She'd coughed up blood, the spatters on her face, shirt, the floor. Yuan wiped them away with the blanket, listened to the shallow breathing. He grabbed the lone, strict necessities aid kit sitting on the top shelf of Yuan's locker. Painkillers, a roll of gauze, and some stitches and scissors. Not what he would need to tend to the hole in Silwa's stomach. But a captain must use the tools at hand to carry out their mission. Or at least try.
It took five hours for Silwa to give up. She never regained consciousness. At least, not while Yuan was in the room. He'd come back in, found her eyes open and glassy, the weak breathing stopped. Closed her eyes. Death in space was not a rare thing, but that didn't make it any less wrenching.
He had duties, protocols to follow in case of a mutiny. Only the Karat's communications gear had difficulty getting out of the storm. Or, at least, Gage never acknowledged Yuan's calls. There was no place to put the miner's body, no place to put Silwa's, so Yuan gave them his room. Took his gear out and left them both sealed there. And then he waited to die.
43
Interrogations
They'd stuffed the hijackers, including Beta, into an airlock and sealed it. They'd have enough oxygen in there, provided Mox didn't get bored and open the outside door. Davin figured the treatment was more than they deserved, but chalked it up to, you know, being a captain and therefore being more sensitive to his crew deciding Davin wasn't worth keeping alive. He had Opal making a run back up to the ruined shuttle to collect her rifle and scrounge up any other hijacker arms that'd been left behind.
All this while the Karat accelerated out of Neptune's atmosphere at a steady velocity. The size of the ship and the slow climb meant Davin didn't have to strap himself down, but he was bouncing from chair to chair in the cafeteria. It made the interrogation of the one hijacker, Alpha, a farce. The guy was wrapped into his chair, so he just watched Davin brace himself on a table, then a chair, then finally the captain leaned against the beverage machine, almost fifteen feet away.
"Not inspirin' much fear," Alpha said.
The mutiny leader, stripped of his helmet, was a grimy soul. Soaked through with his own sweat, Alpha's damp hair greased onto his face, made up of a pointed nose and a wide, monstrous mouth. Slit eyes that stared at nothing. Alpha's head was a project in extremes.
"I don't really care," Davin said, hands gripping the sides of the machine behind him. "Not interested in fear."
"Than what're you keeping me here for? Aren't you mad I tried to kill you?"
"I thought I was supposed to be asking the questions," Davin said. Mad? Yeah. Davin was mad. If Alpha and his dumb crew hadn't tried to hijack the Karat, then Davin wouldn't be here at all. Wouldn't be in this storm while Phyla was stuck up there, probably bored out of her mind.
"Then ask'em."
"Who's your boss?"
"Don't got one."
"Really?"
"Look," Alpha said, his straps moving slightly, as though he'd tried to shrug his shoulders. "You saw what was there. In the hold."
"The ice diamonds."
"You're seeing us, thinking that it's all about them. It's all a cash grab."
"You're saying it's not?"
"I'm saying you don't have a clue what's going on," Alpha shook his head. "And it doesn't even matter, because you'll be dead long before this whole thing plays out."
"If there's a thing I love," Davin said. "It's vague threats and conspiracy theories. Keep'em coming."
"We tried to warn you," Alpha said, a small smile creeping on his lips.
"Warn us?"
"The message. The only signal we could get out. Didn't even have a mic."
"Run? That was you?"
Alpha nodded.
"Why?"
The Karat stopped shaking. Davin felt the pull on his legs let up, his stomach do a quick flop as Neptune's gravity disappeared and the Karat's own generators kicked in. Finally, that awful blue planet was behind him.
"Give the freighter a call," Alpha said. "See if any of your friends are still alive."
44
New Orders
Piloting the Jumper with a killer headache and a body built on pain wasn't what Phyla would call enjoyable, but compared to that shuttle, she'd take it. Gladly. Merc sat in the captain's chair next to her, manning the comm while Phyla angled the Jumper towards the new ship coming out of Neptune's atmosphere.
"That what I think it is?" Phyla said.
"It's her," Merc said. "Looks like your boy did something right for a change."
“My boy?” Phyla glanced at Merc, eyebrow raised.
"Phyla, you and the captain gotta get off your high'n'mighty horses one of these days and have a little fun," Merc said. "As funny as you two are, it's been going on too damn long."
"But Lina—”
"Stop. Take it from a fighter pilot trained that every day is probably gonna be your last. Don't make excuses."
Phyla laughed, her bruised ribs blossoming pain through her chest so that the chuckle turned into a cough and a grimace. Merc wasn't wrong. The evidence was there. If they made it away from this planet alive, she'd have to have a long talk with the captain.
"Thanks," Phyla said after a minute. Merc nodded, then turned back to the comm.
"Yo, Karat. This is the Jumper. You reading?" Merc said.
"Professional as always, Merc," Phyla muttered.
"This is the Karat," Said a stately voice, not one Phyla recognized. "We read you, Jumper. My pilot says you're one of the good ones."
"That'd be correct," Merc replied. "Now, if you wouldn't mind, I think you've got a few of our friends on board. Mind letting us in?"
During the docking process, which had the Jumper pulling alongside the Karat's emergency hatch, what with the wrecked shuttle dominating the only actual docking bay, Phyla kept an eye on the scanners. Bakr and his crew hadn't launched off of the freighter. Hadn't hailed them. Quinn was still on there somewhere. Maybe he'd freed himself and was leading some sort of counterattack?
It wasn't long after the two ships docked that Davin walked into the cockpit, kicked Merc out, and took his rightful seat. The next few minutes were spent catching each other up on what'd happened. Davin's adventure walking the side of the Karat, Phyla's shuttle rescue.
"One of these times, we're not going to make it," Phyla said when Davin finished.
"Nobody does, Phyla," Davin replied. "Difference is, at least we'll be choosing it."
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking when Bakr shot me into space. Felt much better than waiting till old age, dying in my sleep."
The comm buzzed. Only, the incoming message wasn't coming from somewhere close. It was long-range. A bounce from the satellites scattered throughout the solar system. Davin looked at the blinking alert for a second, as though deciding whether to continue the conversation with Phyla or play the message. Then the captain tapped the console and the recording started. Phyla exhaled. She'd talked herself into a corner there. Davin wasn't keying into the empathy, wasn't providing the right answers. Here, then, was an escape.
"Davin. It's been hours without a reply on the mission status. Eden is saying they've lost contact with the freighter. If I don't hear back from your or your crew within the next couple of hours, I will assume the mission has failed," Bosser's voice sounded too formal. "We would prefer not to take emergency action, so please communicate your status."
The communication blipped. Something had changed with the source.
"I know you're alive," Bosser's voice was different, less like he was reading from a script. "I have eyes out there. I know you're rescuing the Karat and its cargo. Once you have it, Davin, leave the system. Do not attempt to engage the raiders. They are stronger than you realize, and the ice diamonds are far more valuable than that freighter or its crew. Communicate when you've left Neptune's space and we will go from there."
The recording cut off.
"Who's left on the Amerigo?" Davin said to
Phyla.
"None of ours. Only the Viper," Phyla said. Only, that wasn't accurate, was it?
"The ice diamonds can buy us a new fighter. And if Gage is a traitor, then I don't care leaving him," Davin said, nodding. "Let's get out of here."
"Wait," Phyla said as Davin reached to touch the reply button on the console. "It's true, there's none of us on there. There's an Eden guy, though. Their agent."
"So? Don't feel like risking the crew for one guy. They'll ransom him anyway, if he's not dead, once they've lost the diamonds."
Phyla couldn't discount Davin's logic, except she'd seen Bakr, and she didn't think he gave one iota about ransom.
"Davin, he saved my life. Back there, on the freighter."
The captain sat back in the chair, covered his eyes with his hands and sighed. Glanced at Phyla with a slight smile.
"We have to rescue him, don't we?"
Phyla nodded.
"And piss off Bosser at the same time."
Phyla nodded again.
"I need to get a more cowardly crew," Davin muttered, then tapped the reply button.
"Bosser. Gage is a traitor and tried to set us up. I'm not a fan of getting played and walking away. I'll let you know when we're on our way to Saturn," Davin sent the transmission.
"Better tell everyone they're not done getting shot at," Phyla said, putting a hand on Davin's arm. "And, thank you."
"Suppose I owe this guy for keeping my pilot alive," Davin said, standing. "I have an idea, but I need to clear it with Yuan first."
As Davin stood, the Jumper's scanner beeped once, twice, and then a third time. Three new contacts. Coming out of the freighter.
"Their fighters," Phyla said. "They must have realized what we were docking with."
"Un-dock, now. We won't have a chance if we're stuck to the Karat," Davin said, then used the intercom to radio Mox and Erick to the turrets. A minute later, Opal confirmed the airlocks were clear and Phyla disengaged the bridge. Pumping power to the thrusters, the Jumper flew away from the Karat and straight towards the large white knife of the freighter.
The Whiskey Jumper against the raider's trio of fighters? Phyla had seen worse odds.
45
Perspective
"They are trying to protect us," Yuan said, watching the scanner as the Jumper set itself between the Karat and the oncoming fighters. "For mercenaries, your friends are very noble."
"You should tell Davin that," Viola said.
There was something comforting about normal conversation after Yuan's story. That they could go back to reality, compliments and replies without disappearing into silence.
"How do you get over it?" Viola said.. "How do you get over killing somebody else?"
"The wrong question, I think," Yuan replied after a few seconds.
On the console, the Whiskey Jumper and the three fighters moved closer together. Another few minutes and they'd be within range of the first fires. All of the other Nines were aboard the Jumper, the hijackers safely locked into one of the Karat's airlocks. Viola wondered why it didn't feel stranger, to be apart from the rest of them. Then again, Viola knew what else she felt here on the Karat's bridge, not under fire. Relief.
"I would ask yourself, who you are, and does this act change that?" Yuan said. "Because if you are confident in your idea of yourself, then an action taken to save the lives of your comrades should be an affirmation of that idea, not a condemnation."
Viola studied the captain, who seemed captivated by the console and the converging blips. A few windy professors in the classes she'd had growing up had given Viola a certain skepticism towards the more philosophical statements. Here, though, from a person who'd just gone through a total mutiny, the loss of most of his crew, and learned that his co-office on another ship had sold Yuan out . . . if Yuan could keep himself together after going through that, he might be on to something.
"Now watch," Yuan said. "Your friends are fighting for our lives."
46
Turret Game
The problem with being the captain was that you didn't get to have any fun. Davin watched the blips approach on the console, then on the glass as the ships came closer. The flight computer projected the raider ships in their approximate positions in front of them, so even though Davin couldn't see the fighters against the dark backdrop of space, he knew where they were.
"Status," Davin commed.
"Ready to go," Trina said, by the engines.
"In position," Opal said from the top turret. Davin thought he caught a hint of exhaustion at the end of that. A little sigh at the end of Opal's comment. They'd been running a full day without real sleep and Opal had been beaten up, knocked unconscious, and nearly incinerated. She'd earned a bonus after this one.
"On," Mox said from the bottom.
The twin turrets were standard on medium ships like the Jumper. Maximum field of fire, and with the Jumper's upfront cannon, the only vulnerable spot they had was straight aft. And Phyla wouldn't let anybody sit back there.
"Line me up," Davin said to Phyla.
"Two straight fighters, and they've got that one scout ship. Preference?"
"I like bigger targets."
Phyla shifted the Jumper, moving so the square on the far right, a larger one, was dead center. In a few seconds, that square would flip from yellow to green, and Davin would spit lasers. The two smaller squares, the fighters, were drifting higher as they adjusted their approach.
"Mox, you're on primary with me. Opal, keep us clear."
Comms clicked affirmative.
"It must kill Merc to be locked in here," Phyla said. "Sitting out a fight."
"His own fault. What pilot leaves his own ship behind?"
The square flipped green with a beep and Davin pressed the trigger in front of him. Out in front of the Jumper, bright white light lanced out faster than Davin could register. Flashes as each pulse of the front cannon blasted out into the dark. A moment later secondary flashes, lower but angled, came out of Mox's turret. Then the glass in front of Davin crackled in blue-gray waves. The scout ship's fire hitting their front shields. The console showed more shots from the fighters hitting the Jumper's top side.
"Trina?" Davin commed, continuing to spray laser light towards the square.
"We're holding," Came the response. "But you might try dodging."
The scout ship cut up as they drew close, the other two fighters keeping themselves on top of the Jumper. Minimizing the effectiveness of the two turrets by keeping their entire force in one firing zone. As the scout ship shot past, Phyla rolled the Jumper and curled after it, putting the scout ship in Mox's sights while bringing fresh shields to take the fighter's fire.
"Boost it!" Davin commed to Trina, who shunted some of the energy dedicated to the rear shields, now out of danger, to the Jumper's engines. The added jump kicked the ship through its roll faster, and Phyla nudged the Jumper up so that the scout ship's big, sweet aft was sitting right in Davin's sweet spot. Trigger pulled, lights flashed, and between Davin and Mox, the scout ship's shields broke apart, followed by charring, shattering pieces of metal.
"Keep us on him a second longer and we'll punch through," Davin said.
"Aft!" Opal commed.
Davin glanced at the console as Phyla yanked the Jumper hard to starboard, swinging the scout ship out of Davin's arc. One fighter had taken its disc-shaped self through Mox's distracted position and hovered right behind the Jumper. Phyla was trying to shake it, but the nimbler craft was keeping pace, blowing through the light rear shields.
"Hold on!" Phyla said, then pulled back on the flight stick.
The Jumper tilted straight up, swinging the fighter into Opal's zone, right where she was already aiming. As Opal lit into the fighter, it boosted forward, pushing energy into its engines to get itself out of the way of Opal's turret. As the fighter shot beneath the Jumper, Phyla pressed the stick forward, leveling the Jumper out and putting the fighter in Mox's sights. After a couple shots, the fight
er's shields went out. Another couple and its cockpit shattered, venting atmosphere and sending the fighter into an uncontrolled plummet towards Neptune.
"One down, two to go," Davin said, glancing at the console. The scout ship limped back to the freighter. Only there was a new blip on the scene. A larger ship.
"Their big one," Phyla said. She wasn't wrong. It was larger than the Jumper, and, based on the rate at which it was closing, it wasn't made for cargo. "Merc didn't even try to engage it."
"What are you saying?"
"I was hoping maybe, with the freighter, they wouldn't have enough to crew all their ships," Phyla said, angling the Jumper after the remaining fighter, who was dodging frantically, not even bothering to attack. Davin had to admit, the little bastard was good at it too. Its thrusters let it stop, start, and juke without the curves most ships dealt with. Mox and Opal hit a few times, but not enough, not concentrated on the same parts, and the fighter's shields held.
"Need a plan, Davin," Phyla said.
"You met their leader?" Davin said. "Much of a conversationalist?"
"We didn't get to know each other. The whole shock-and-throw-me-into-space thing ruined the atmosphere."
"Ah," Davin said, then adjusted the comm to beam a message straight towards the oncoming raider ship. "Hey, we're all mercenaries here. How about we arrange something that makes us all rich?"
"That's what you say?" Phyla muttered.
"I'm appealing to his greed," Davin said. "And we might want to stop shooting at his fighter."
Phyla caught the message and angled the Jumper away, alerted Opal and Mox to the plan. The fighter caught on too, seizing the opportunity to sprint towards the larger ship. It was finally close enough for the scanners to pick up more detail.
The Jumper was a modular ship, designed to have pieces plugged into standard joints to allow for tweaking as needs arose. Most of the space ship industry was like that. Plug and play parts. Buy the pieces that you needed, jack them into a fitting, and you'd be ready to fly.
