by M. D. Cooper
As she strode to the bridge, her chest tightened with anxiety, and she wondered if she was really ready to do this on her own. Once she set out, there’d be no changing her mind. If the Revolution Fleet didn’t buy her cover or her story, there’d be little Kylie could do to convince them.
Raynes. When will we finally be free of that guy?
Kylie said, adding to her worries.
Kylie nodded.
Once she reached the freighter’s small bridge, Kylie slipped into the captain’s seat and brought the pilot’s console online.
She let out a slow breath, releasing her stress—or trying to.
Kylie smirked.
“I loaded the smuggler’s hold up with some dummy AI cores to buy you some time,” Ricket said as she stepped onto the bridge, surprising Kylie. “And in the secondary chiller unit is a canister of the nano virus. It’s a fake, obviously, but it will pass a visual inspection.”
Kylie pivoted in her seat, curious as to why the woman was still aboard the Solidarity. “Ricket…I appreciate the update, but what are you doing here?”
“Helping you.” Ricket sighed. “I was out of line before. I’m sorry, Kylie. I shouldn’t have said the things I did.”
“I accept your apology, but that doesn’t mean—”
“Paul Rhoads and the Revolution Fleet are expecting Chief Raynes; they aren’t going to get him. They’re also expecting at least Chassea and Elizabeth on the Solidarity. If only one of them shows….” Ricket shrugged.
She made a good point. “You catching all this, Rogers?”
Rogers’ voice sounded strained, even across the Link. Rogers said.
“Besides all that, like Rogers said, someone needs to watch your back,” Ricket said as she sat at the pilot’s console. “You never would’ve made it off the Liberation-1 without me.” The woman winked as she pulled up the display, calibrating it to her height and preferences.
She had a point. A strong enough one that Kylie decided not to argue with the agent. “Well, what are you waiting for? Initiate separation from the Barbaric Queen.”
The hints of concern fell from Ricket’s expression, and her fingers flew across the holodisplay. “Separation initiated. Rogers….”
Kylie took a deep breath, able to feel the vibration beneath her feet as the freighter pulled away from the Barbaric Queen. Engines ignited, and—finally under her own power—the Solidarity began to move through space.
“We’re past the rift.” Kylie leant forward, eager to get the entire mess over with. “Get us lined up for a dark-layer transition.”
“At once, Captain,” Ricket said with a hint of humor in her voice.
Kylie leaned back in her chair, her mind on the last time she and Ricket had stood together, facing off against another Rhoads. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad I won’t be alone. And I’m glad we get to do this together. It’ll add a nice symmetry to things. I just hope that’s the only thing the two events will have in common.”
Ricket nodded. “I do want you to save your brother. Don’t think I don’t. I just…I doubt it’s possible at this point. I’m sorry.”
Kylie understood. She didn’t hold much hope that saving Paul was really possible either. “I have to try. Because…well, once, he would’ve tried to save me too.”
“A romanticized version of the past?’ Ricket asked.
Kylie shrugged. “Maybe. Memories change with time.”
“OK,” Ricket said, her tone back to business. “We’re aligned with Dante Velorum.”
“Engage when ready.”
The Solidarity slipped into FTL, and Kylie’s stomach lurched, as the ship’s grav systems fluttered during the transition.
Suddenly, a strange sound came from the passage leading to the bridge. A sort of high-pitched yelp.
No, it can’t be. Another person hiding on the ship?
Kylie glanced at Ricket to see the woman giving her the side-eye.
“You heard that, too?” the Hand agent asked.
“Stay here, just in case. Private comms only.” Kylie drew her sidearm and hurried off the bridge.
Kylie stuck her head out into the corridor, looking left and then right. When she didn’t see anything, she stepped forward. Her HUD indicated that the route to the left would lead to the captain’s quarters, and since she was the new captain of the Solidarity….
The open door to the captain’s cabin was on the left. Nothing remarkable about the space other than evidence that Captain Chassea wasn’t a particularly neat person. There were pants and shirts strewn on a chair—plus a pair of white leather leggings that Kylie made a mental note to try on for size. Then the pile of clothes on the floor moved.
Kylie raised her pistol as she approached.
Marge audibly gasped with happiness.
This couldn’t be happening.
But it was happening.
She lifted up a thick sweater to find a white-and-orange cat yawning as it stretched and rolled over.
He opened one eye and peered at Kylie. “ASSHOLE?”
Kylie gritted teeth. “What are you doing here?”
“NAP. TIRED. ROGERS SMELLS. WHERE BUBBS?”
Kylie didn’t know how to tell the codependent cat that Bubbs was on another ship and that they’d just jumped to FTL. “We’ll…see her soon, Fizzle Pop. You do realize that the Solidarity and the Barbaric Queen weren’t permanently connected, right?”
Mr. Fizzle Pop didn’t answer, only staring at Kylie with his large, unblinking eyes. She had a feeling she’d used too many big words.
“Snack?” she asked, trying a different route.
His ears twitched, and he sat up straighter. “SNACK! SNACK!” Mr. Fizzle Pop sprang out of the pile of clothes, fur flying through
the air as he ran out into the corridor and down to the galley—or at least, that’s where Kylie assumed the cat had gone as she hurried after him.
Inwardly, Kylie groaned.
THE CAVALRY
STELLAR DATE: 12.17.8948 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Polis Fury-1
REGION: Chimin Asteroid Group, Hanoi System (independent)
As he boarded the Polis Fury’s pinnace, Grayson surveyed his away team.
Dr. Quxa and a pair of her medics were at the front of the ship’s main cabin; he had handpicked the small team to help the hospital staff on Chimin. In the seats behind was a full squad of soldiers, headed by Commander Maureen. Sitting in the cockpit was Lana, alone, as she often was.
She had been instrumental in the recent battle in Gedri, and Grayson knew she’d do her part here as well—even if that was just to keep Winter in line.
The pinnace lifted out of the Polis Fury’s main bay, and he drew himself up to address the team.
“OK, people, you’ve seen the reports. Chimin’s population seems to be stable, and in all likelihood, we’ll have little need for any armed assistance, so keep weapons slung unless Commander Maureen or I say otherwise. We’re here to pitch in—in whatever capacity they require. And in the event they find themselves in need of protection….”
“We’ll be there.” Maureen smirked. “Everyone heard the colonel? The people of Chimin are our people until further notice. We wouldn’t let our own go through something like this without aid, would we?”
The squad chorused a round of ‘No, ma’am!’s, and Grayson let a smile play at the corners of his lips as he took a seat next to Lana in the cockpit.
She offered him a sideways glance. “How am I doing?” she asked as she piloted the shuttle toward the largest rock in the asteroid group, Chimin-1.
“Like a real pro,” Grayson said and studied the display as they made their final descent toward the docking bay. “You’ve really improved with the sims you’ve been doing.”
Lana tucked her hair behind her ears. “I read the reports on Chimin, too, Gray. This place, these people…they need more than just one squad. They’re going to need a miracle to get back on their feet.”
“Well, this is Silstrand space now—at least according to the maps.” He gave a rueful laugh at the requirements the Scipio Alliance had placed on the alliance, the sound earning him a sidelong look from Lana.
“Are we helping or conquering?” she asked.
“Helping. But either way, Silstrand won’t let them fall, not without a fight. Once we assess the situation, we’ll be better equipped to establish Silstrand’s governance. I’m hoping we’ll find someone on Chimin to act as a liaison, to ease the people into the new status quo. If we’re really lucky, we’ll find a governor who will work with us and not oppose us.”
“Like Winter?” Lana asked with a cringe that seemed to involve half her body.
Inwardly, Grayson groaned. “Stars, no. Not that I don’t respect and appreciate what he’s doing. It was a…surprising decision. But even if I didn’t have many, many personal reservations about him in charge of a place like this, Winter isn’t the type of man who will be happy in one place. He’ll develop the need to blow something up before long.”
Lana let out a burst of laughter. “Well, it’s probably good for Chimin he was here. To step up, I mean.”
Grayson agreed, but tabled the conversation as the shuttle entered the bay, and settled onto the cradle. A minute later, the shuttle’s internal pressure had matched the bay’s, and the doors opened.
He was out first, leading the group down the ramp. Lana followed right behind him, then came Doctor Quxa, her medics, and the squad. As they stepped onto the bay’s deck, Maureen directed the soldiers to take up positions on either side of the group and then joined Grayson.
Two other shuttles were sitting in the bay, but no people were present.
Grayson was about to reach out to the station’s dockmaster, when the doors on the far bay opened, and Winter strode through.
“Well, you guys sure took your sweet time getting here,” the mountain of a man grunted in greeting as he approached. “You have any idea the shit—oh…damn.” He paused as his gaze landed on Lana.
She tensed noticeably, and Grayson couldn’t help but wonder what he was missing.
“Lana,” Winter swallowed hard. “I didn’t know…I didn’t expect to see you. Not with the likes of him.”
Well, it’s nice to see that Winter hasn’t changed.
“Why would you? I’m here to help, just the same as everyone else.” Lana shifted her weight from one leg to the other, one hand tightly clasping the other arm’s wrist.
“Right.” Winter cleared his throat. “Well…good to see you’re all right. I mean, I knew you were. Heard the reports and all. I haven’t seen you since we were back on the I2. That’s all.”
“I remember,” Lana said dryly. “But all that wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”
Grayson had thought he was awkward at small talk, but Winter and Lana took the prize.
“For starters, if you could maybe give us a tour, Winter? Show us how things stand?” Grayson stepped up between the pair and offered Winter his hand, wondering if the man would even shake it.
The albino didn’t even hesitate, giving Grayson’s hand two solid pumps. “We’ve done a lot of work, but there’s more to be done.” Winter led them toward the lift, and everyone fell in line. “Emergency crews have almost finished stabilizing the central lift shaft. All of the hab levels are secure, but the day-to-day operations…everything is still touch-and-go.”
Dr. Quxa piped up. “The Fury has supplies for the hospital. If we could head there first so I can assess what they need, I’d like to get started.”
Winter threw her a sharp look, and Grayson held his hand up. “Doctor, Commander Maureen and Lana will escort you to the hospital to meet Doctor Grace, who’s been pinging the ship—rather insistently, I might add. While they do that, I think Winter and I need to have a frank conversation about what needs to be done here.”
“You’re the boss.” Winter slapped Grayson on the back hard enough that the colonel coughed. “Do I call you ‘Gray’? ‘Grayson’?”
“How about ‘Colonel’?” Grayson smirked.
Winter only laughed. “I think we both know that ain’t happening.”
A LONG TRIP IN THE DARK
STELLAR DATE: 12.17.8948 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Solidarity
REGION: Approaching Dante Velorum, Interstellar Dark Layer
Time passed slowly when on a small freighter with only one other person and an uplifted talking cat.
In the small galley, Kylie and Ricket had found an old deck of playing cards and settled down at the scratched plas table to play a few rounds of Snark, while Mr. Fizzle Pop ate what had to be his tenth shredded-chicken ‘snack’ on the floor.
Kylie wasn’t sure, but she felt like Laura might’ve been offering her an empty p
latitude.
Kylie’s nose crinkled with frustration.
“Let them be. At least they’re having a good time.” Ricket lay a card down and took a sip of her beer.
Kylie brought her attention back down to the floor where Mr. Fizzle Pop sat eating his snack. “Well, how is it?”
“YUM, ASSHOLE.” He chewed noisily and then swallowed. “WHERE’S BUBBS?” His eyes shifted between the two humans.
Kylie quickly swallowed her beer. She was constantly walking around on eggshells, waiting for him to ask every few hours. “What do you mean?”
“NO BUBBS ON TRACKER. BLINKING BROKEN.” Mr. Fizzle Pop looked at Kylie and then at what appeared to be an entirely disinterested Ricket. His tail swished as though he didn’t appreciate their behavior.
Kylie played a card and did her best to sound distracted and bored, wondering what had possessed Bubbs to give a cat a visual overlay. “It broke when we attacked the freighter. You were knocked around pretty hard.”
Mr. Fizzle Pop gave her a puzzling look, and his ears flattened. “I WAS?”
“Oh yeah, sure. We’ll get your tracker fixed as soon as we can. It’s precision work, or your brain will go up in smoke.”
“SMOKE BAD.” Mr. Fizzle Pop padded out of the galley. “I GO FIND HER. BYE, ASSHOLES.”
Ricket sighed and laid her cards down. “I can’t do this for much longer. It’s fraying my nerves, wondering when he’s going to figure it out. Then the pitiful roooowring will begin.”
Kylie knew what she meant. “How much longer can we hold him off? Two days?”
“Not long enough. We have another day in FTL, then three days of insystem travel time to the planet. In cat years, that’s like…forever.”
Kylie snickered behind her cards. She didn’t want to say that she enjoyed how uncomfortable Mr. Fizzle Pop made Ricket, but she really did enjoy the other woman’s discomfort.
