by M. D. Cooper
Rogers breathed a sigh of relief.
What I wouldn’t give to have a ship’s AI aboard.
Rogers raced through the ship and grabbed the MDC cutter from engineering, then sped back to the brig entrance and set to work on the door. He studied the schematics and marked all the areas he needed to cut directly into the wall. As he slid his goggles down, Rogers double-checked on life support and saw that the estimates had dropped from two hours to one.
The system must have repaired itself…and was going to kill the inhabitants faster. He thought of letting Bubbs know, but figured there was no sense in causing her to panic.
As Rogers reviewed the brig door’s mounting mechanisms, he realized it was going to take another set of hands to pull off the job. Unfortunately, there was only one other set of those on his side of the locked door.
Damn. Rogers hated prisoners. Hated them. I swear to the stars—or whoever is listening—if I get everyone out alive, I’ll never take another prisoner again.
It was a promise he meant to keep.
* * * * *
Rogers entered the interrogation room to find Chassea awake, her eyes following every move he made. Still strapped into the chair they had used to interrogate Liberty, the captain shifted as he got closer, and explained that he needed help.
“Why the hell should I help you or that thing you keep?” Chassea asked, interrupting him partway through.
Rogers could see a bruise forming on her jaw and knew that it hadn’t gotten there on its own.
“Because Elizabeth and Jacob are trapped in there with Bubbs. They’re going to die, too, if we don’t work together. I can understand why you hate Bubbs, but I’m pretty sure you don’t hate your own crew.”
Chassea’s eyes shifted. “One condition: I’m never left alone with your attack dog again. You get me?”
Rogers nodded. “I get you. For the record, she’s just trying to get answers so we can help our captain. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Not exactly comforting,” Chassea said, as Rogers released her wrist and ankle restraints. She sat up immediately and rubbed her wrists. “But it’s a start. Just tell me what to do.”
Rogers stepped clear and trained his pulse pistol on the woman. “You get to operate the power tools.”
CLOSE QUARTERS
STELLAR DATE: 12.17.8948 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Barbaric Queen
REGION: Approaching Dante Velorum, Interstellar Dark Layer
The air had grown thin, and Bubbs had to remember to focus on staying conscious. The explosion had extensively damaged the corridor, but she’d managed to avoid getting pinned by the falling wall of Jacob’s cell that had blown outward.
The same couldn’t be said for Elizabeth, who had been pinned by her bunk and part of the wall that had divided the cells. She wheezed, gasping for air, eyes wide.
“Help me move this stuff off her,” Bubbs ordered Jacob. She gripped a corner piece and started to lift it. “Now, Jacob!”
As much as she was willing to push them around to learn what they needed, Bubbs didn’t want to see a helpless woman die. That wasn’t her thing. She had been prisoner enough times to hold some sympathy for those she watched over.
Jacob didn’t move. He was resting his head against a pipe that had fallen to the deck, his hand clutching his side.
“He’s bleeding out,” Elizabeth gasped. “He can’t help you.”
Bubbs didn’t know how the woman could know that, but she didn’t have time to ask a lot of questions. Slowly, she gently lowered the metal back down on top of Elizabeth, who groaned with the full weight once more pressing upon her.
Bubbs knew her only option was to make a lever—find something flat enough to wedge under the bunk.
Platitudes. How Bubbs hated hearing them and, over the years, she had heard them enough. She spotted a piece of Jacob’s cell door and grunted as she wedged it between Elizabeth’s body and the metal pinning her.
“You’re going to need to move when I lift this up. Understood?”
Elizabeth nodded and blinked slowly. Bubbs feared she might be losing consciousness.
Bubbs applied her full might to her makeshift lever and gave a groan. “You’d better hurry.”
Elizabeth pulled herself free, gasping in pain as she moved, though Bubbs figured her injury was better than being dead. As soon as the woman’s feet were clear, Bubbs dropped the chunk of metal and took a deep breath, which was getting harder to do.
She was beginning to feel a panic set in, as her shortness of breath increased. Crouching down beside Elizabeth, Bubbs focused on taking long, slow breaths. Elizabeth lay back, her chest heaving too fast.
“Slow your breath, or you’ll start to hyperventilate. The air is thin. We need to preserve what we have.” Bubbs put her hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “Some escape plan you two had.”
“I told him it was stupid.” Elizabeth swallowed. “Now he’ll pay the price if we don’t get him to a doctor. If your medbay is anything like the rest of this scrap heap, he’s screwed.”
Bubbs smirked despite the situation. “You’d be surprised by what we can do. How do you know he has internal injuries?”
“I used to be a doctor,” Elizabeth confessed, and Bubbs’ eyebrows rose. “I still have the medical grade visual mods. I can see the signs of cranial pressure and blood pooling in his lungs.”
“Pretty advanced stuff. I’m sure there’s a story in there somewhere, pixie.”
“We all have stories. Like you.” Elizabeth swallowed with difficulty. “Your body scans prove you have a lot added and a lot missing.”
Bubbs scowled. She never gave anyone permission to do a scan on her, though she suspected the flow armor greatly limited what the woman could really see. When Jacob whimpered, she glanced back at him, but he appeared to be unconscious.
At least he’ll use up less air that way.
“Hello, hypoxia,” Elizabeth muttered.
The half-mech woman slid further down on the floor as the air began to thin. There wasn’t enough to keep them conscious much longer.
Bubbs closed her eyes and thought of her beloved Mr. Fizzle Pop. She’d miss feeling his soft fur on her cheeks, and she was sorry she never got to say goodbye.
A moment later, the sound of a door falling onto the deck caused her eyes to open. She saw a light, and then her lungs filled with a rush of fresh air.
Thank the fucking stars.
She sat up and looked down at Elizabeth. She shook the woman’s shoulder to wake her.
“Elizabeth, we’re going to be all right,” she said, as Rogers and Chassea rushed in to help them.
But Elizabeth didn’t stir. Bubbs feared the worst.
* * * * *
Chassea had seen a lot of things in the years she had been smuggling in the Fringe, working for the Revolution Fleet, but a medbay like this was decidedly not one of them. Jacob had been placed in a medtube, which was repairing his severed arteries while also cleaning out the internal bleeds before they clotted. Elizabeth was in another aut
odoc, her bloodstream being carefully reoxygenated while the system worked on her other injuries.
“Damn, looks like her pelvis and hips were crushed,” Bubbs said.
Chassea nodded. “Thank you for saving them both. You didn’t need to. I might not like you, but I recognize what you’ve done.”
“No one dies on my watch, at least not without a fight—or unless it’s me that kills them.”
Bubbs turned and walked out of the medbay, and Chassea couldn’t help but notice how Rogers’ eyes followed the cyborg woman. The man’s expression hinted at a Link conversation, and she wondered what it was about.
She hated all their secrets.
But secrets were her thing, too. Everyone had them.
Then Bubbs was gone, and Rogers turned to Chassea, crossing his arms and scowling at her. “Time to ‘fess up. We’ve helped your crew—more than they deserve, considering what you were smuggling. Now you tell me exactly why you stole those AIs, and what the Revolution Fleet wants with them.”
Chassea knew she had to give him some information— enough to quell his curiosity—but which parts to tell him?
“We were to take the AIs to Paul Rhoads. Once Raynes arrived, Paul was going to give a demonstration.”
“To show how the nano virus can destroy AIs?” Rogers shook his head. “Damn, that’s some cruel shit. You were OK with that?”
She was surprised this man knew of the virus, but the only visible response she gave was a shrug. “I got paid to do it, so I did it. For the record, the Revolution Fleet doesn’t skimp on the credit. We did the job—well, half of it. Guess I won’t be getting that money.”
“Who was he putting the demonstration on for?”
“Do I look like—” Chassea paused when she caught sight of the machine turning Elizabeth and slicing her open, tiny armatures pulling her skin aside as it began to rebuild her hip.
It hit her that she wasn’t getting out of this anytime soon.
“Janice said some high-level generals and dignitaries from a place called ‘Orion’ were coming. If Paul can prove he has the real deal with the nanovirus, Orion will give them a big reward—maybe even a ticket out of this crappy corner of the cosmos.”
“Nice alliteration. Who’s Janice?”
Chassea nodded. “Paul’s wife. I like to call her a heartless bitch, but he doesn’t agree.”
“I guess you know them pretty well.”
“Fairly.” Her jaw tensed when she answered. She didn’t want to give him any more at this point.
“Thanks for the information. I don’t like it, but I appreciate you being honest with me. I’m afraid since we don’t have a brig anymore, we’ll have to confine you to a cabin. I’ll still have my eye on you. Bubbs might not want to kill anyone, but you hurt my ship again, and I’ll space you. All three of you.”
Chassea could tell from the look in his strange, blue eyes that the man was serious. He would do it, and he wouldn’t even care. Damn pirates…or whatever they are. “Understood.”
Rogers grabbed her roughly by the arm and shoved her out of the medbay, leading her to the crew quarters.
“This is how you’re going to treat me now that you have the information you need?”
“Don’t. You’re not the wronged party. You don’t get to be all self-righteous about this. Not at all.”
* * * * *
After Rogers sealed Chassea in her quarters, Bubbs met him in the corridor, prepared to stand guard. “Did you learn anything useful?”
“Learned it’s a good thing you called the reinforcements when you did; Kylie’s walking into a much more dangerous situation than she realizes. Orion Guard dangerous. Let’s just hope we get there in time.”
A LONGER TRIP IN THE DARK
STELLAR DATE: 12.18.8948 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Solidarity
REGION: Approaching Dante Velorum, Interstellar Dark Layer
“ASSHOLES CAN’T CATCH ME!”
“Fizzle Pop!” Ricket and Kylie both screamed and each grabbed for the cat.
They were in the galley making dinner, when the cat scooped up three of the frozen fillets of fish in his mouth and jumped off the counter.
Ricket tried to grab his left leg, while Kylie went for his tail, but their arms crossed each other, and they ended up knocking their heads together, and the cat got away—with their dinner.
Kylie groaned and rubbed her head, while Ricket scowled, her eyebrows pinching together.
“I thought you were the graceful, yet deadly, Hand agent,” Kylie said as they walked to the galley’s exit.
“What about you? You worked for a crime syndicate for how long and managed to survive? You can’t handle one nasty little cat?” Ricket looked down the corridor to the left. “No sign of him.”
“We probably won’t see him until he finishes our dinner.” Kylie brought up the cat tracker. “You know he isn’t nasty. I’ve seen you cuddling with him the past two nights.”
“Cuddling? More like placating him so he won’t meow for Bubbs for hours. Listening to a cat sing the blues isn’t in my job description. I’d rather take on an Orion agent.”
“Mmmhmm. Sure. Looks like he’s under the bulkhead near the bridge. We can fish him out there.”
“Ha ha, funny. Dinner’s ruined, though. We should’ve chosen something he doesn’t like to eat.”
Kylie shot her a blank stare as they walked through the passages. “I’ve seen that cat eat wires and old napkins. I’m pretty sure they haven’t introduced a food yet that he wouldn’t scarf down like it’s his last meal.”
“Fair enough. Then we lock him in the escape pod.”
Groan. “We’ve been over this already.”
“We’re getting closer, you know. We’re less than nine hours from dumping out of FTL. Are you nervous?” asked Ricket.
“Do I seem nervous?”
“Yes, you do.” Ricket tossed the hair from her face. “Marge said you haven’t been sleeping well, and even Mr. Fizzle Pop said you snapped at him.”
“You’re trusting the word of strange and surly cats now?”
“Please, I wish he was strange. I’ve spent more time talking to that cat than I have talking to my own mother. It’s as horrifying as it is amusing.”
Kylie smirked. “I’m just saying, who wouldn’t be on edge? But in all honesty, I’m fine.”
“Fine? I guess if you don’t want to talk about it….”
“I don’t. No more than you want to talk about my decision not to call in reinforcements.”
Ricket pushed her lips together tightly. “Is that why there’s so much tension? You don’t think I called them, do you?”
The thought had crossed Kylie’s mind, but she didn’t want to voice her concerns. Instead, she bent over—she could hear Mr. Fizzle Pop chewing. Sure enough, there he was. His head turned to the side as he gnawed on a frozen piece of fish as if it was the last meal he’d ever eat.
She straightened and groaned. “That’s disgusting.”
“Frozen pizza, then?” Ricket asked as they walked back toward the galley.
“PIZZA?!”
Kylie shook her head, wondering how her mission to save her family had come to this.
GEONOVA
STELLAR DATE: 12.19.8948 (Adjusted Gregorian)
LOCATION: Geonova Station
REGION: Hanoi System (independent)
The trip to Geonova took longer than Grayson had hoped. The Hanoi System’s star, named Dauten by the locals, was at its solar maximum, and astrometrics reported a high risk of coronal mass ejections.
To make matters worse, both Chimin and Battia ran the risk of being within the star’s magnetic current sheet when the CMEs tore free from the star’s atmosphere.
As a result, Grayson had sent the Polis Fury up over the stellar plane, making the trip take almost three days.
Docking with Geonova took several hours, as well. The station was nervous about h
aving a warship in close proximity, and with the Polis Fury’s pinnace still back at Chimin, aiding in running supplies between some of the asteroids, Grayson had used a local shuttle service to collect himself and Commander Maureen.
Major Fallon had questioned him for not using one of the assault dropships, but with the station already behaving as though they wished he wasn’t present, he knew that would send the wrong message.
Nevertheless, he did have those assault ships crewed and ready to hit the station, should anything go wrong.
And so, Grayson and Maureen entered a private meeting room in Battia’s consulate alone. He could tell that Maureen was a little nervous about operating without backup on her heels, but in his time working with Kylie, Grayson had become accustomed to the lack of reinforcements.
Sometimes going in alone could work out surprisingly well.
Inside the room, two Battian officials waited, both wearing nondescript dark mauve suits. His attention was caught by the posture of one of the two women; she was shifting her stance to keep her clothing from pulling at her hip, an amateur tell for a poorly concealed weapon.
His suspicions were confirmed as she eyed them distrustfully before leaning back against the wall.
In the center of the room stood a high table holding drinks. A decorative light gave off a warm glow from above. On the other side of the table stood the second woman. She wore a wide-rimmed blue hat with the world’s official crest on the front. From the back of the hat hung a braid of long, blonde hair.
“Colonel Grayson of the Silstrand Alliance, I presume?” The woman’s eyebrows rose as she stepped around the table with her arms behind her back.
“You presume correctly. With whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”
“You may call me Ambassador Pauline. I’ve been sent by Empress Mei with the authority to speak on her behalf. I welcome you to Battia with open arms, open heart, and open mind.” Pauline bowed slightly, and Grayson had to take care not to let his smile falter.
