by A. R. Knight
The frigate in front of them resembled a wing, with the cockpit at one pointed end and a large bank of engines at the other. Sections sprouted from the central core like feathers, each one crawling with turrets.
"Feel like we've seen this one before," Davin said, looking at the enemy ship's waved exterior. It looked like a painter's brush stroke in reverse, a blot at the front followed by a thin mid-section and a frilled, massive aft. It was the end that was coated with weapons, at least four turrets on top and bottom each.
"Near Europa," Phyla said. "I thought it was Eden's."
"We can't win this one, not without help," Davin said. "But they can't catch us, or the Karat."
"You want to run?" Phyla said. "And Quinn?"
"There's a difference between taking a risk and suicide."
"You' ll have to order me," Phyla said, giving Davin a level stare.
"Take us back towards the Karat, and get ready to head towards Saturn," Davin said. "I'm sorry, Phyla."
"Me too."
Phyla swung the Jumper around as the frigate approached firing range. Then their freighter's engines kicked in and the distance between the Jumper and a quick, fiery death started increasing.
The comm beeped at him. Incoming transmission. Guess they wanted to talk. Davin tapped the connect button.
"What do you want?" Davin said.
"To save lives," The voice said. Davin turned to Phyla, who nodded. That was Bakr talking.
"We're already leaving."
"A cowardly choice. Let me give you a chance to redeem your honor," Bakr said. "I will offer you the following exchange: The remaining crew of the freighter, and your lives, in exchange for the Karat and everything on board her."
Davin muted the comm, looked at Phyla.
"That's a crap deal," Phyla said.
"I thought you wanted your guy back?" Davin said.
"He's not 'my guy'." Phyla said, but she didn't say anything else. Davin remembered Phyla's hand on his arm, the conversation before he left for Neptune. Now there was this guy, Quinn. Davin blinked. Stop it. That didn't matter. If this Quinn saved Phyla's life, then he deserved a rescue of his own. And if Bakr was going to let them land without firing a shot, then there was a chance.
"We'll take it," Davin sent back, then turned to Phyla. "He better be worth it."
47
Guarded
The woman stared at him, mouth tight and arms crossed. It would've been unnerving, but Quinn didn't care anymore. His life was already forfeit. He'd be put up for a token ransom, or maybe just launched out of an airlock and left to drift through the stars till he froze and died. Nothing she could say would make things worse than that.
"They said you were helping those mercenaries," The woman said, feeling her way through the question as she asked it. "Do you know them at all?"
"No," Quinn replied. "Only met one. Brave, though, for a someone with a loyalty to coin."
Getting the feeling back into his arms, legs, mind was slow. They'd juiced him hard. It'd taken an hour to even speak a sentence.
"That's what I thought too."
Now Quinn looked up.
"What do you mean?" He asked."The one I ran into, the pilot. I thought he'd ask to join. Take a part of the shares,"
The woman sighed. "Bakr would've taken him, too. We don't have many people left."
"That's what'll happen, you decide to fight the ones with all the power."
"The ones you work for.""Yeah, because they have all the power," Quinn shot back. "Seems like a smart idea.""But Eden hurts so many people!"
"And you're saints, I get it," Quinn said.
The woman shut up at that, glared at him. Till her comm beeped. She glanced at it, then, her face blank, looked back at Quinn.
"I'm supposed to bring you to the docking bay," she said.
Quinn tried to stand, but as he moved off the bed, his legs failed to work and he fell onto the ground.
"Didn't realize you were still so weak," The woman said, then leaned back and pulled Quinn up. "You can lean on me while we walk. Because I'm a saint."
There were a lot of steps between the bunk room and the docking bay, and Quinn leaned on the woman for every single one of them.
48
Bridges
"Are you ready?" Viola asked Yuan, who stood behind her, rifle in hand.
The airlock in front of Viola held the hijackers they'd neutralized on the Karat. They'd tried to kill her and her friends, and now she was letting them free. Viola pressed the release button on the keypad next to the airlock and the door cycled open. The hijackers stared at her and Viola wondered if, even unarmed, they would charge her anyway.
"About time," The one called Alpha said. "Are the bridges set up?"
Viola shook her head. The Karat was near the freighter, in position to offload its cargo of ice diamonds. The transfer would take place using bridges chutes that could extend from the Amerigo to its target. With the zero gravity of space, all the chutes had to do was act as a guardrail to send cargo from one ship to another. The ice diamonds would float along those chutes and get caught by bots or people in the freighter's cargo bay.
"There's nobody to rig them up. Except you."
"Where's all your friends? The guy that tried interrogating me?"
"Getting your old crew away from you."
"Hear that, guys?" Alpha said, turning to the four others. "They're doing the clean-up for us. We have to shift some rock, and then it's payday time."
A minute later they were shuffling to the cargo bay, Yuan and his rifle keeping an eye on them. Viola went back to the bridge, looked at the console. The Jumper was just sliding into one of the freighter's docking bays.
"The rocks are about to move," Viola commed. "Be careful."
"Be ready," Davin replied.
For what?
49
Legacy
A sniper's scope made everyone into a target. Even if her finger wasn't near the trigger, Opal still felt the person standing in the crosshairs was a moment away from dying. From the top of the Jumper's loading ramp, Opal looked out at the ten Amerigo crew members surrounded by Bakr's mercenaries. The crew looked stunned, except a short engineer who seemed to relish throwing glares at anyone who looked at him. Suppose she would feel that way too, if a bunch of bandits and a traitorous captain had taken Opal's ship.
Davin stood at the bottom of the ramp, Mox and Merc armed and next to him. As soon as word came that the ice diamonds were making their way through the chutes, the crew would come up. Then they'd pull out of here and hopefully never see the freighter again. Leaving with the crew instead of the valuable diamonds meant the pay for this one might not be spectacular, but then . . . Eden was a fantastically rich company. They might give them a nice bonus for bringing their members back alive.
The scope settled on Merc for a moment. How close had Opal come to dying just a few hours ago on the Karat? While she was lying unconscious, Merc was up here trying not to get blown to space dust by the raider fighters. Both of them on the edge, a laser away from never seeing each other again. From never feeling each other again.
"They're moving the diamonds," Viola's voice came through their comms.
The commanding raider, a burly man trailing waves of fabric flowing from his jacket, glanced at his comm and whistled. The crew lined up and walked forward. None of them cuffed, restrained at all. There were another ten raiders in the bay, so maybe the invaders didn't feel scared about their prisoners. From their slow, dejected walk up the boarding ramp, Opal wouldn't have been scared of the crew either.
"He's not with them," Phyla commed. "Quinn."
"Hey," Davin said to the burly man. "You're missing one."
"I'm told the last is a special case," The man replied.
"Our arrangement didn't have any special cases," Davin said.
The man flashed a bearded grin at Davin, then brought his comm to his mouth and said a few words that Opal couldn't catch. There was movement by the docki
ng bay door. Opal shifted the scope to cover the space and rested her finger on the trigger. The first one through was another raider, her hair scattered across a patchwork shirt, colored fabrics tightly wound around her arms. Walking behind the raider, with an arm on her shoulder, was the Eden man Opal recognized from their tour of the freighter a lifetime ago.
The raider woman paused for a second, staring at Merc. The fighter pilot gazed back. Opal noted the recognition. Something to ask Merc about later.
"That's him," Phyla said. "With his arm on that raider."
"Figured," Mox said.
Opal ignored the chatter. Focused on the person coming in next. Gaunt, tall, and with a masked face, Bakr strode in behind Quinn. Brushed past the Eden guard and walked right up to Davin. Opal kept the scope deadlocked on Bakr's head, fighting past a barrage of memories to stay in the moment. Mars. The Red Voice. That's where she knew the name from. A hit list, and Bakr was near the top.
If he was here, then these weren't simple mercenaries. The ice diamonds weren't being stolen for a group of greedy killers. The Red Voice had been silenced, according to the media. Eden and the other corporations, along with Earth's military, had claimed victory. A premature boast, apparently.
Suddenly her comm brought in ambient noise, projecting a conversation. It took a second to realize that Davin was broadcasting what Bakr was saying.
“. . . and so you realize that you, asking for this one, are forcing me to give up my leverage with Eden," Bakr was saying.
"Yeah," Davin replied. "Thing is, we need the same. They won't be too thrilled we left their man with a bunch of raiders."
"Then one of us must make a sacrifice."
"Don't know that I'd call it that, but fine," Davin said. "I vote you, because you're getting the damn ice diamonds and a big freighter to carry them in."
Bakr, through Opal's scope, gave no hint of expression behind the mask. There wasn't a smile, a frown. Barely a blink of the eyes. Opal tried to remember what had carried Bakr to his position in the Red Voice. Pieces of recollection flitted by. The man had been a knife in Eden's back, twisting in the shadows to turn people against their friends, slipping sabotage into the daily lives of Martian citizens.
"Tell me, Davin Masters, why is it that you want to save the crew?" Bakr asked. "You are a mercenary. You live and die by the coin that you earn. What use do these lives have to you?"
Opal watched Davin think for a second. It was a strange question, just like Bakr's slow speech cadence. The raiders nearby standing bored. Like they were waiting for something.
The ice diamonds.
They were being moved from the Karat to the freighter. Bakr couldn't risk anything until the transfer was complete, until the bridges disconnected. Viola could yank the Karat away or even use the bridges to damage the Amerigo's cargo hold. But once the bridges were clear, there wouldn't be any reason to let the crew transfer continue. Bakr could roast them all, trapped here in the bay.
"Davin, gotta get the guy and go. He's stalling," Opal said into the comm. Her voice came out of Davin's comm loud enough to hear.
Davin glanced up the ramp, towards where Opal was sitting. Bakr followed the look, stared right at Opal. Without understanding why, drawn by the chance to meet those shadowed eyes, Opal raised her head from the rifle and looked straight at Bakr.
"I believe, Davin," Bakr said, not looking away from Opal. "That you were about to argue that life is worth more than coin. Yet you travel with that one . . . "
Bakr's fists clenched. Opal ducked back behind her scope, aimed it right at Bakr's face.
"Good men do not harbor monsters," Bakr finished. Before Opal could pull the trigger, Bakr yanked Davin in front of him, grabbed the sidearm holstered on Davin's belt and held it up to the captain's head.
"New deal," Bakr said. "The Eden man for the sniper. Or all of you burn here, now."
50
Frantic
Calling Opal a monster? Is that what he heard? Merc's hands grabbed his pair of stunning discs, pucks that would, a few seconds after being armed, send arcs of paralyzing electricity out around them. His thumbs moved to the triggers. Even if Merc stunned Davin, that'd be better than letting Bakr shoot him. Cause there was no way they were going to—
"Done," Opal said, loudly, from the top of the ramp. "It's a deal."
"You're not the captain," Davin said, eyes on the sidearm Bakr held to his temple. "Not your say."
"It's my life," Opal said. "And I'm saying make the swap."
"At least you are brave," Bakr said. He didn't move the sidearm away. Any pretense the guy had of being diplomatic was gone. The raiders sensed the same change, their hands moving to their weapons, drawing them. There were six raiders in the bay, plus Bakr, with four of the Nines. 'Course, Phyla could use the Jumper's turret too. Bakr had to know his odds here weren't real good.
Cass shoved Quinn forward towards the ramp. The guy looked like he couldn't walk, and Mox caught Quinn as he fell and, at a look from Davin, carried the man towards the Jumper. They passed by Opal on the ramp, the sniper slinging her long rifle over her back. It didn't make any sense. Why would Opal offer up herself for a guy none of them knew? Why wasn't Davin fighting?
As she walked down the ramp, Opal looked over at Merc and gave him slight nod. Merc wanted to call this whole thing insane, but . . . there had to be a plan. She wouldn't be doing this without an ace. So Merc nodded back and hoped.
As Opal came within a meter of Bakr, the raider captain shoved Davin away hard and turned his aim on Opal. Davin hit the floor, rolling back up to a crouch, that shotgun of his swinging over his shoulder and into his hands.
"Our deal is done," Bakr announced, then reached for Opal's arm. Merc waited for the flip, the kick. A surprise shot from Phyla that would incinerate Bakr where he stood. Only nothing happened. Bakr took Opal's arm and walked towards the bay's exit. The sniper didn't even resist.
"The hell is wrong with you people?" Merc said. "We're just letting him take Opal?"
"Like she said, it's her decision," Davin said, but he didn't look like he believed his own words.
"Yeah, but not her’s alone," Merc said, and threw both discs. The first skittered across the ground and exploded at the feet of three raiders. The second flew towards Bakr, Opal. Opal flinched away, and Bakr dove with her as the discs exploded with electricity. The three raiders collapsed, twitching, to the floor.
After throwing the discs, Merc flipped the rifle over his shoulder and into his palms, aiming at Bakr. Cass and the other raider were still in the bay, but Merc hoped Mox or Davin could handle them. Like hell Bakr was taking Opal away. The sniper had found her spirit, though, and grappled with Bakr on the ground, too close for a clean shot. Merc moved closer, hearing shouts behind him. Cass was telling someone not to shoot. Some movement by the doorway that Merc couldn't trace. Not that he wanted to, he could see Opal moving her legs into position to -- there it was, Opal brought her legs up, then smashed her booted heels into Bakr's ankles, causing the raider to let go of her. A clear shot.
Then Merc flew and landed on the bay floor, air rushing from his lungs in a coughing fit. His ribs ached. The hell was that? Bending up, Merc saw a shorter, robed man staring at him. Where was Opal? Merc blinked and found her, running towards him. Bakr behind her, aiming the sidearm.
"Twist!" Merc tried to yell, but he didn't have the breath. Bakr fired. The orange bolt lanced out and struck Opal in the back. She fell forward, smoke and flame rising from the back of her jacket, and landed next to Merc. Her face right there. So close. Her eyes staring right into his, tears lacing the edges.
"I'm sorry," Opal whispered. Merc wasn't sure how he heard the words over the noise in the bay, the laser fire, the yelling, but they were there.
"Don't talk," Merc said, his own voice barely functioning. Lungs grasping for air.
"I love you."
"You'll be okay," Merc said, sitting up, bringing his comm up. He glanced at Opal's back, at the frothy burning pit
that had been her jacket a second before. Facts flew through his head, statistics on the power of Davin's sidearm, the likelihood of fatalities when shot in certain areas of the body. And the robed man stood between them. This close, Merc could see metal eyes, their unblinking cameras staring at him. Could see the arms reaching to crush Merc's throat.
"No," Growled a deep voice.
Then the bot lifted in the air, Mox's metal-laced arm holding the enemy like a toy. Like he was playing a game, Mox threw the bot hard into the bay wall. At impact, the bot blew into pieces, robes scattering to the ground as the its arms and legs sparked themselves out.
Davin, closer to the bay door, triggered a shot towards Bakr, but a second robed figure darted out and pulled the raider boss out of the way. Melody's green fire splashed around the exit, framing the door in flame .
"Erick! Casualty!" Merc commed. "Opal's been shot in the back!"
"He's already getting ready," Phyla commed back. "Bring her in."
"Hey you," Merc said, leaning down to pick Opal up. "Hang in there."
She didn't answer.
51
Reversal
Mox stunned the shocked raiders one by one. Not thrilling, but necessary. After zapping the last one, he looked towards the Jumper's boarding ramp and saw Merc coming down. No Opal. Davin and the raider woman, holding up her hands, were waiting.
"As soon as Merc hits the ground, go," Davin's comm went to all of them.
"Will do," Phyla replied.
No risking their ship while they chased the burned man around the Amerigo. Mox walked towards the bay exit, stepping over the wrecked pieces of the strange bot soldier the burned man had with him. Not a full android, not so tough as that, but still capable of hitting hard.
