by J. N. Chaney
But the Deadlands wouldn’t last forever. It wouldn’t take long before the Union and the Sarkonians swallowed them all up, dividing everything between them. There would be no more free worlds. There would only be the conquered.
That was where we came in. The Earth’s territory contained several habitable worlds with bountiful resources, each one ready for colonization. Most of all, they had our protection—a fleet of drones and ships to guard our borders. The Union wouldn’t be able to touch these people—not after we’d taken out most of their ships and sent them packing. With Sigmond producing more defense drones every day, not to mention a newly outfitted Galactic Dawn and Titan, we had everything we needed to ensure our new friends’ survival.
Of course, the Deadlands were notorious for its share of criminals—all manner of unsavory sorts, such as murderers, thieves, and all the nasties in between. But there were good folks there, too. People who only wanted to make an honest living and do right by themselves and their kin. I wagered they deserved a chance to see it done, even if it was on the other side of the galaxy, on a world they didn’t know.
Time would tell if the gamble we made would pay off, if this blooming colony of ours would prosper and become what we wanted it to be, or if Brigham’s words to me would be proven right, and the whole enterprise would come crashing down, burying me in the process.
Looking out across the bay at all the many faces who had come so far with so little, I couldn’t help but feel a little more optimistic.
“Look!” exclaimed someone from the crowd. “That’s Captain Hughes!”
A handful of refugees approached me. “The Renegade?” asked one of them. “I heard he was taller than that. Are you sure that’s him?”
“He looks just like his wanted poster,” exclaimed a teenager.
They went silent, staring at me with slack-jawed expressions. The whole scene unnerved me, but thankfully all of that was soon broken by a voice laughing from beyond the crowd.
“Ah, yes. There he is,” said Lucia, parting the colonists as she walked casually in my direction. She glanced sideways at the nearby onlookers, bearing an annoyed expression. “You certainly took your time, boy.”
“Don’t start with me, old woman,” I said.
She eyed me for a moment, then smirked and presented her hand. I took it, and we shook. “Nice to see you again.”
I nodded. “Two weeks is too long.”
She motioned for me to return with her, towards the elevators on the other side of the bay. We walked through the crowd, each of the colonists turning as we passed, their eyes transfixed on us.
“Tell me something,” I said, once we’d put some space between us and the crowd.
“You’re wondering about the mob,” she said, laughing. “It seems our story has spread far. Tales of your exploits are all over the Deadlands now.” She stepped up to the elevator and scanned her access card, opening the doors. We both stepped inside. “Captain Jace Hughes—the Renegade, they’re calling you.”
“That’s what I am,” I said, casually.
She shook her head. “You were a Renegade, but now you’re the Renegade. There is a difference. Perhaps a bit dramatic, but what do I know? I’m just an old woman raised in an ice cave.”
I peered out of the lift as the doors closed, locking eyes with the crowd as they watched me from afar. “Those people don’t know what they’re talking about.”
“They know enough,” she answered. “Talk of your match with Brigham has spread like an avalanche.”
I scoffed. “They know what you tell them, or what they hear. None of them were there. The real battle was fought in orbit, decided by Siggy and the rest of the fleet. They should be hailing Octavia, Bolin, or Alphonse. They—”
She raised her finger a few centimeters from my face. “Doesn’t matter. You can’t stop the flow of gossip.” She snickered. “Those people know you didn’t do this alone, but they know you did enough. You’re the man who defied two empires, rediscovered Earth, and built himself an army. Face it, boy. Your story’s bigger than you now.”
I stared at the doors until they opened, saying nothing. The whole thing made me uncomfortable, and I aimed to put a stop to the so-called gossip as soon as I had the chance. For now, though, I had other priorities, such as the status of this ship and the people waiting in its landing bay. We’d have to organize them, deploy them, and assign every capable man, woman, and child with a task that needed doing.
Lucia and I walked quietly to the bridge, an air of silence in the corridor. I recalled when I first infiltrated this place and how it bustled with Union activity. All of that noise was gone, replaced by a somber stillness. It was almost eerie, like a ghost ship, but without the corpses.
As the doors opened and we stepped inside the bridge, I was met by the image of the Earth across a large screen against the forward wall. I recalled the first time I’d seen this world, back when Freddie had shown it to me on The Renegade Star. It was so green and blue, with some of the largest continents I’d ever seen on a class-M planet.
The reality was so much different, a brown and empty world with no vegetation or animals to speak of. Nothing but oceans of empty water and continents of dead land.
Any other group might see this and be discouraged, but not my people. Earth’s new colonists were eager to build and make the planet ready. They saw the work it needed and believed they could see it done. None of us knew the full extent of what that work might entail, or if the dream of Earth might ever truly be realized, but maybe that was for the best. It wasn’t always the goal that mattered, but the journey to see it done that made the difference. We would keep trying to make a life, and if we were lucky, maybe one day we’d succeed.
A dozen hand-picked personnel scurried around the bridge, hard at work coordinating what was about to be their second mission—another recruitment job to the Deadlands. This would be the second set of colonists—or third, if you included the original group. Those worlds had already been mapped out weeks ago by Sigmond and Alphonse, chosen because of their proximity to the Union or Sarkonian borders. That was where tensions would be at their strongest, which meant they would be the most eager to leave. A message had already been sent across the gal-net, informing every resident of our invitation. None of us knew how many people would opt to join us or how much resistance we might encounter, but we were hopeful. That was all a part of the risk, and it was one I had entrusted to Abigail, above all others.
Thankfully, we’d chosen the very best personnel from among Lucia’s team—individuals with a natural talent for inflicting pain. Of course, few of them compared to the woman standing at the center of the bridge, hands behind her back. Her brownish blonde hair remained a stark contrast to the rest of the albino crew, and I knew it far too well.
Abigail turned to look at me, an immediate smile etched across her beautiful face. “Jace!” she called, and I knew right away that she was just as happy to see me as I was to see her.
I returned the smile, but only for a second. Now that we were in charge of an army, not to mention all of those colonists on the lower decks, we couldn’t let ourselves get carried away by affection.
Not right now, anyway.
No, based on the hungry expression she was giving me, I gave it twenty minutes before we ended up in either her quarters or one of the nearby side offices. In any case, it didn’t much matter to me.
I was never one for particulars.
“Lucia here tells me everything went pretty well,” I said.
“She did?” asked Abigail, shooting a quick glance at the old woman.
Lucia cocked her brow. “Nobody died.”
“What does that mean?” I asked. “Did something happen?”
Lucia rolled her eyes and turned around. “You can tell him if you want,” she said, walking to the exit door. “I have other matters that need my attention.”
She proceeded to leave, apparently uninterested in the conversation she knew we were about to have.
“What the hell is she talking about?” I asked Abigail.
“It’s not a big deal, Jace,” she answered. “We had to deal with some miscreants, that’s all.”
“Miscreants?” I asked.
She said nothing, so I simply stared at her, waiting for more answers. After a few moments, she finally sighed and continued. “Fine. We were ambushed on the ground by a Union assault squad. Six of them, but—”
“An assault squad?!” I snapped, causing several of the crew to look at me.
Abigail waved her hand at them, then lowered her voice. “We handled it. Don’t worry. Those personal shields took most of the damage.”
“Most?” I asked, holding on to the word.
“They took us by surprise, so not everyone had time to activate their shield. Karin took a hit in the shoulder, but she’s fine. The med pod we brought had her healed in a matter of hours.”
“Gods, Abby,” I muttered. “Why didn’t you order everyone to keep their shields up?”
She gave me a look, but I ignored it.
“Well?” I asked.
“Because it happened on the ship,” she finally admitted.
“On The Dawn?” I asked.
She nodded. “Operatives posing as civilians.”
I let out a long sigh, crossing my arms as I tried to imagine how something like that could even happen. “Fake I.D.’s? Or were they stowaways?”
“Fakes, and good ones, too,” she said. “I sent them to Sigmond as soon as we reached Abaddon and he tells me he can create a better authentication tool for future runs. We shouldn’t encounter this problem again.”
“I want your security team doubled,” I said, without hesitation.
“That’s really not necessary, Jace.”
“I don’t give a shit what’s necessary. I’ve got a fleet of drones between the Earth and the Union, but only the hull of this ship to protect all of you when you’re out there. We shouldn’t underestimate the Union, Abby.”
She leaned towards me and smiled. “I see what’s going on here. You’re concerned about my well-being.”
I stayed rigid. “You know damn well that I am.”
She paused a few centimeters from my chest, nudging me with her palm, then motioned with her eyes to the nearby office, inviting me. “Prove it.”
THREE
"Gods, I needed that," said Abigail, lying bare chested on the conference table. She ran her fingers down my chest, tickling me in the process.
I fidgeted, nudging the barrel of my pistol against my naked ass. I pushed the gun away so it wasn't digging into my side anymore, then turned to look at Abby. "Not a bad welcome home, I'd say."
"Is that what you say?" She asked.
"I might. That all depends on what else we get up to," I said, giving her a knowing smile. "Care for another?"
Abigail opened her mouth to answer, but paused at the sound of a bell, followed by three knocks. "Ma'am?" called the voice from the other side of the door. "We have a bit of a situation."
"What kind of situation?" I yelled in return.
Abigail leapt off the table and tossed her shirt back on, causing me to groan. "They wouldn't be calling me if it wasn't important," she explained.
"There's been an incident in one of the bays, involving two colonists," explained the voice.
Abigail hurried over to the door, buttoning her shirt and running her fingers through her hair. After a quick second, she gave up on looking entirely professional and proceeded to open the door.
An albino woman stood there, stepping back momentarily when she saw Abigail. "Oh, excuse me. I know you asked not to be disturbed, but—" the woman's eyes drifted over to me and my naked ass on the table. I gave her a grin and a quick wave, and she awkwardly returned it. "—the situation is escalating," she continued, looking back at Abigail. "The security team has already been dispatched and they are handling the situation, but the nature of it seemed to require elevation."
"How's that?" Asked Abigail.
"The colonists responsible for the confrontation was attempting to steal supplies from one of the families. He managed to get his hands on a knife and was using it to threaten the family."
"Didn't you scan these people before they boarded?" I asked, reaching for my pants.
The woman nodded. "Yes, sir. Our security team personally scanned every individual that boarded the ship. We intend to investigate where he acquired the weapon as soon as we have the opportunity."
"I want that colonist in an interrogation room right away," ordered Abigail.
"Yes, ma'am," said the soldier. "I'll have him brought to the brig right away for questioning. Shall I relay this information to Lucia so that she can begin?"
"Lucia?" I asked, buckling my belt. I reached down and picked up my shirt. "You put her in a cell with a man, she's bound to kill him. At the very least, break a bone or two. Best make sure someone goes in there with her. I'm not a fan of good cop, bad cop, so it might do you well to send someone else."
“Good point,” conceded Abby. “I suppose I can handle this one myself.”
There was a light click in my ear, followed by a familiar voice. "Sir, if you'll pardon the interruption. Miss Brie has returned from her scouting efforts, along with Mr. Malloy. I believe the data they collected calls for your eyes, if you have a moment."
"Now ain’t a good time, pal," I said, strapping on my holster.
Abigail looked at me.
I pointed to my ear. “Just Siggy.”
“It's okay,” she assured me. “If you have something to do, I can take it from here."
"I know you can. I just figured I could see you in action."
“I assure you, it won’t be that entertaining,” said Abigail.
“All the same,” I said, securing my holster. “Let’s hear what this so-called thief has to say.”
* * *
I stood in the rear of a large oval-shaped room, watching Abigail as she repeated a question to the man in the cell. “What were you thinking?”
“I-I don’t know!” exclaimed the man, whose name was apparently Trevor. “I just got this feeling like it might be my last chance to—” He paused, scratching his hands and shifting in his chair. “—to eat for a while. I d-dunno how to e-explain it, I j-just couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
Trevor fidgeted again in his seat, scratching his hands and then his neck. He was also blinking a lot, licking his lips, and his eyes were all over the room, unable to sit still. I couldn’t see them from where I was standing, but I guessed his pupils were probably dilated to hell, too.
Before Abigail could ask him something else, the door opened, and a woman walked in, carrying a pad. She handed it to Abigail, who read it and promptly returned the device. The woman took it—one of the albinos, of course, although she seemed a little more glammed up than the rest. Her hair had been fixed, and I thought I caught sight of some eyeliner and makeup. Very uncommon for Lucia’s people. Then again, there was no telling what sort of fashion tips the crew had picked up during their time in the Deadlands.
The woman walked to the side of the door and stood at attention.
“Stay here for a moment, Mr. Parcelle,” said Abby.
“O-Okay, s-sure will,” said Trevor.
She turned away and approached me, keeping her back to the prisoner’s cell.
“Let me guess,” I whispered to her. “He’s on something.”
“The toxicology report just came back,” said Abigail, sighing as she spoke the words.
“What’s his poison?” I asked.
“Milocliptinide,” she answered. “I believe the street term is Sweet Pie.”
I pulled my head back and dropped my jaw a little. “Since when do you know about drugs?”
She smiled and rolled her eyes. “You’d be surprised what I know.”
I smirked. “I’m sure I would.”
Abigail looked over her shoulder at Trevor. “He needs to detox, but we should have him clean in a few hours. This isn’
t our first case of drug use, although it certainly is for Milocliptinide.”
“You’ve had other drug addicts?” I asked.
“A few, but none of them were violent. Trevor might be the first,” she said.
“What are you going to do about it?”
She sighed. “From what I understand, paranoia is a side effect, along with short bursts of aggression.”
I didn’t say anything.
“But,” she continued, “we can’t let something like this go. He’ll need to be reprimanded.”
“What’s the punishment?” I asked.
“Hard labor in the field for a month,” she said. “Better to make him useful than a burden.”
“Not bad, Captain Pryar,” I said, smiling. “You might have a knack for this whole command thing.”
“Please,” she said, dismissing the compliment. “The next time this ship makes a recruitment run, you’re the one at the helm. I’d rather spend my time on the ground and under the sun.”
“You’d look good with a tan,” I told her.
She smirked. “Damn right I would.”
FOUR
I found myself back on the landing bay, stepping clear of the elevators, when someone yelled my name.
Freddie came running from the crowd, trying to get my attention. “Hey!” he called as he neared. “Captain, I heard you were onboard. Good to see you again!”
“I was starting to wonder where you were, Freddie,” I said, giving him a quick once-over. “How’s your new job working out?”
“It’s good!” he exclaimed, apparently unable to hide his excitement. “Aside from a few problems, our first mission was a success.”
“That’s great,” I said.
He smiled. “Thank you, but I’m eager to see the progress you’ve made on the colony. Would you mind if I joined you on the surface?”
“Are you trying to bum a ride with me?” I asked.
He hesitated, almost embarrassed. “Oh, I didn’t mean to—”
“Cut the bullshit, Freddie, and tell me why you’re asking,” I interrupted.
