Profit & Peril

by Charissa Dufour

  “Reese, what is happening?”

  “That Bit?” called Randal from the lower level. “Bit, come with us.”

  “What do you want with my under-steward?” Vance asked, coming to the doorway of the galley.

  Bit winced at the title. I’m not your under-steward, her mind screamed.

  “She has firearm training. Bit, get your ass down here.”

  Bit didn’t hesitated, despite the glower on Vance’s face, and raced after Reese. Halfway down the last staircase, the ship rumbled again and the grav-plating flickered. Bit rose above the stairs for a split second before the grav-plating kicked in again. Though her feet were just a few inches off the steps, the fall sent her tumbling down the steps, twisting her right ankle.

  She climbed to her feet just as Reese reached her side, preparing to help her up.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah. I’ll live. What’s up?”

  “Under attack. They’ve docked with the forward airlock.”

  “Why would they do that?”

  “Probably after the cargo,” came Randal’s voice, drawing them away from the stairs and around the corner to the small hatch separating the living quarters from the cargo. “Cap’s pumping in more life support, but the air is gonna be thin. Conserve your energy.”

  Blaine handed her a sidearm, one of the smaller models that fit in her tiny hands. The look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know—Blaine was livid that she was joining them, and the only thing keeping him from voicing his opinion was Randal’s stern expression.

  “And remember,” said Forrest, standing in the doorway of engineering, “there’s a nuclear reactor in the cargo bay. Try not to shoot them.”

  Bit felt her eyes grow wide as she turned to follow the men into the cargo bay. Bit climbed through the hatch, the second to last to enter. The airlock exited onto a catwalk that looked down on the cargo. Just as Randal had warned, the air was thin and Bit quickly began to feel light headed.

  The room was dim, with only minimal work lights for them to keep from tripping over their own feet.

  “We need more light,” Nathyn whispered.

  “I suspect some of the electrics were knocked out with that last blow. No doubt the engineers are on it,” replied Randal. “Bit and Reese, head down into the cargo bay to make sure they don’t sneak through the crates…”

  “I’ll go with Bit,” interjected Blaine, cutting Randal off.

  “Shut up,” Randal, Reese, Kat and Nathyn all whispered in unison.

  “Nathyn, Blaine, take the left catwalk. Kat and I’ll take the right. No one get shot,” he added before turning and heading toward the right side of the cargo bay, his body hunched down as though the thin railing could hide his bulky figure.

  Bit and Reese followed Blaine and Nathyn toward the left side of the cargo bay, where the ladder waited. Bit tucked her gun into the waistband of her pants and went first. It was a long climb down, but she reached the bottom no worse for wear. A second later, Reese dropped to the bottom, making only the slightest thud. He led her into the maze of carbon-fiber crates strapped to the floor and walls.

  They snuck toward the forward hatch. Bit kept glancing up at the catwalk, but the lights were so dim she could barely see the top of the stacks of cargo. She kept seeing shadows shift, but never felt certain it was a person. She didn’t want to fire at nothing or, worse yet, one of her own crewmates.

  Reese and Bit barely reached the halfway point when the lights suddenly flickered up to their full strength. Bit blinked, her eyes shocked by the sudden increase in light. Before her eyes could adjust, shots rang out, echoing in the confined space of the cargo bay. Bit lunged behind a crate, flinching as a round buried itself into the crate beside her head. Her heart sped through her chest hammering her ribcage like a woodpecker. She glanced around, finding Reese hiding behind the crate on the opposite side of the aisle.

  She poked her head out, trying to discover where their enemies were shooting from—were they still on the catwalk or had they descended down into the bay itself? Bit suddenly realized she and Reese were the cheese in the mousetrap. Randal wanted their attackers to go down into the bay, giving him and the others the advantage, but Bit had no idea how to be the bait.

  Reese ducked out from his hiding place and fired a few shots up at the catwalks. When he finished, Bit did the same thing. In those few seconds, she caught sight of their attackers—all dressed in EV suits. They weren’t feeling the effects of low oxygen like her and her crewmates. Then again, they were hampered by the bulky suits and the heavy boots.

  Bait, bait, bait. Be the bait, she thought to herself as she scanned her little hiding place.

  Just to her right, hidden with her was a cylinder-shaped container. An idea came to her, though she had no idea if they would fall for it. Bit flipped the safety on and stashed her gun in her waistband.

  “What are you doing?” hissed Reese.

  She held her finger up to her lips for a second before turning back to the strange-looking container. With quick fingers, she unbuttoned her shirt and draped it over the cylinder, then she unhooked the straps holding it in place. Using all her might—what little she had—she pushed the container draped in her shirt toward the edge of her hiding place until just a sliver of it peeked out. With that done, she motioned for Reese to leave his hiding place.

  Reese nodded, picking up on her plan. They skirted around their old hiding places, now manned by her make-shift decoy. They snuck through the crates, each one hugging the opposite side of the long cargo bay. Bit couldn’t see their enemies clearly as she ducked behind various crates, but based on the gunfire raining down on them and her dummy, she suspected the other side was larger than Randal’s motley team.

  She fired twice up at the catwalks before ducking back under her new hiding place. Without waiting to see if she hit anyone, she scurried to a new hiding place and fired again. From what she could tell, Reese was doing the same, giving the impression of more men than they really had down in the lower levels.

  From her fourth hiding place, she spotted Randal and Kat, firing from the far end of the cargo bay. He had found a pillar to take cover behind a third of the way down the long side of the rectangle. Bit peeked around the crate and saw that their enemies were also using pillars as cover, though there were too many of them to hide behind the two pillars available. One of them lay across the catwalk, unmoving.

  Before Bit could sneak to a new hiding place, three of their enemies opened fired while four men slid down the ladder, quickly jumping out of the way of the next man. Bit tried to fire at them, but one of the men on the catwalk fired at her, forcing her to duck back under cover.

  “Don’t shoot the nuclear crap,” Blaine yelled out over the cargo bay, ducking behind his pillar as a rain of shots filled the air.

  Bit felt her chest tighten with fear. Four men now on her level and able to take cover. And able to hit a crate filled with nuclear material.

  Keep moving, she told herself. And so she did. She ducked and dodged, trying her best to keep her enemies confused about her whereabouts and how many people crowded the cargo bay. She would leave the shooting up to those on the catwalks.

  After a few frantic minutes of playing hide-and-seek, Bit found a crate small enough for her to climb onto. She did, and turned toward the next crate, climbing until she found a crate high enough to see her enemies, and yet protected by a still higher container. She lie flat, hoping her body wouldn’t be visible to her enemies and scanned the cargo bay. All the while, gunfire rang out, hurting her ears as the sound echoed against the metal walls.

  Finally, she spotted one of the men and fired over the edge of the container. She hit her target and he dropped. Bit gasped, half due to a lack of oxygen and half due to her own panic. She wasn’t used to killing people.

  Understatement of the century, she chided herself.

  Bit rolled onto her back, looking up at the distant roof and tried to slow her frantic breathing. This wasn
’t her first pirate attack. And it wouldn’t be her last. But thus far things weren’t working out in their favor. She needed to change things, change the odds, but Bit had no idea how to do that.

  Before she could come up with a plan, the lights went out and Bit began to drift upwards.

  “Oh shit,” she said aloud.

  Bit tried to scramble for the straps holding her crate down, but she was already too far away. From her left, Bit heard a strange crinkling sounds—a sound that pricked at her memory.

  What is that?

  Slowly, she remembered the last time she had heard it—climbing into her EV suit. She rolled in the air and found a crate high enough to use for momentum. She kicked off the crate, hopefully aiming herself at the assailant. She glided through the air until she collided with a body, her momentum putting them both into a spin. Without hesitation, she pointed and fired. A hissing noise welcomed her efforts and the struggling body went limp. She let go, pushing the body away from her.

  Bit kept floating in the darkness, occasionally hearing a gunshot in the darkness, causing her over-stressed heart to give a little extra thump. Suddenly, a hand grabbed her by the ankle. In her panic, she lost her grip on her sidearm. Bit heard the tell-tail noise of the EV suit crinkling and knew it was not one of her crewmates who had snagged her. She jerked and squirmed, trying to free herself from the hand on her ankle. As her assailant dragged her back toward him, his other hand grabbed her wrist before he released her ankle. The more she battled his grip the more the two of them jerked and rolled through the air.

  Bit reached for her enemy, finding her hands running across the textile of his suit. She shifted her hands upward until she felt the duroglass of his helmet. She reached behind him as quickly as she could and yanked on the hose connected to the back of his helmet. A loud hissing sound filled the space around her and her enemy began to jerk and writhe, trying to reach back for the hose in question.

  Doesn’t he realize there is minimal atmosphere in the cargo bay? she wondered as she dragged the hose closer to her nose; she inhaled deeply of his stolen oxygen before giving him a hard kick. The continued lack of gravity kept her kick from being effective. All it really did was send them both into a summersault.

  As suddenly as it had turned off, the grav-plating ignited with a creak. Bit and her assailant fell like a bag of rocks. Her enemy hit the edge of a crate with his back, flipping them over as they fell the rest of the way to the deck. They landed, Bit on the bottom, and both remained still for a moment as though the wind had been knocked out of them.

  “Owe,” Bit said before she remembered that the dead weight on her chest was her enemy.

  She shifted and squirmed, but the large man wouldn’t budge. Turning her head, she tried to see into his helmet, but the lack of light made it impossible to see his face. Bit knew she needed to move. She needed to help her crewmates, and she couldn’t do that hiding under a corpse.

  She shifted and squirmed until she worked her way out from under the body. Just as she freed herself, the dim work lights returned. It wasn’t much, but at least she could see that the man in the suit was indeed dead. Bit crawled away from the body, all the while searching for her sidearm.

  Shit, shit, shit, she chanted to herself as more gunfire filled the bay.

  Bit was just turning a corner when she felt the cold metal of a muzzle against her bare back. A shot echoed against the nearby wall and Bit flinched. It took her a moment to realize she hadn’t been shot, and that the cold muzzle wasn’t touching her skin. She glanced over her shoulder to see Reese standing beside an enormous crate, his gun trained on the bleeding body lying behind her.

  She didn’t waste any time but scrambled for her enemy’s weapon. At the same moment, Randal and Kat appeared, blood seeping down the side of Randal’s face.

  “How many have you taken out?” he asked.

  “This is my first,” Reese admitted, gesturing towards the body with his free hand.

  “I’ve taken two others,” Bit whispered.

  A loud voice filled the cargo bay. Bit recognized it as Jack’s. “Your ship is preparing to detach. If you want to live, I suggest you join it.”

  Running at full tilt, one last man appeared in the labyrinth, heading straight for the ladder on the forward end of the ship. He reached the catwalk, with their guns still trained on his back, and jerked the hatch open.

  “Nice shootin’, Tex,” Kat drawled in a strange accent Bit didn’t recognize, patting Reese on the shoulder.

  Bit’s tired eyes stung with unshed tears, which she willed away. Blaine and Nathyn ran up to their little gap between the crates.

  “Fan out,” ordered Randal. “I want to know for sure that we don’t have any lurkers. Bit, up by the little hatch is a comm. device. Check in with the captain. Tell him we’re doing a final sweep.”

  Bit took the most direct route to the aft ladder. Once again she tucked the weapon into her waistband and climbed the ladder, her body screaming with each movement.

  Why must I keep getting attacked by faulty grav-plating?

  She reached the catwalk and hit the comm. button.

  “This is the bridge,” came Jack’s voice. “They dead?”

  “We think so. They’re doing a final sweep.”

  “Good. The ship is detached and making tracks away.”

  “Glad to hear it,” Bit replied into the comm. device.

  “Get the cargo bay cleared. I want you and Randal on the bridge as soon as you can.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “We’re coming,” Bit said into the comm. device once they had cleared the cargo bay.

  Randal’s head appeared at the ladder before he climbed up and over the railing. He nodded, indicating he had heard Jack’s message and motioned for Bit to proceed him. Bit climbed into the airlock followed by Randal. They made their way up to the bridge to find Oden, Calen, and Jack in conference.

  “What’s wrong?” Randal asked just as Dirk and Forrest appeared in the doorway of the bridge.

  “The ship didn’t detach from the forward hatch properly. Some damage has been done and we need to decide whether to push on and repair at Ceres or stop here and attempt to repair without a drydock.”

  “We cannot possibly make repairs here,” snapped Dirk, barely letting the captain finish his explanation.

  Oden and Forrest chimed in at the same time. “We need to make repairs now.”

  “With Oden’s help we can get it done,” continued Forrest.

  Before Bit knew it, the small conference erupted into a tumult of noise, each person arguing their side at the top of their lungs. Jack stepped back, crossing his arms. As far as Bit could tell, he was too tired and war-torn to fight the battle. Bit tried not to glare at him. After all, he wasn’t the one getting shot at today.

  Finally, Bit raised her hand.

  “Yes, Bit,” Jack said, raising his voice over the cacophony.

  “Umm… how far ‘till Ceres?”

  “Two weeks,” replied Oden.

  “And what kind of damage is it?”

  “The forward airlock is damaged. It could breach,” answered Forrest.

  “As in, we lose oxygen.”

  “We still have the second airlock between us and the forward hatch. It would just be the cargo bay that depressurized,” Dirk snapped.

  “Yes, but then we have one airlock between us and sudden death,” replied Oden, just as fiercely.

  Before anyone could respond, a loud beeping filled the bridge.

  “Oden, report,” ordered Jack, even though they could all see which light was flashing on the control panel—the cargo bay had been breached.

  “Cargo bay breached, sir,” said Oden formally.

  “Is everyone out of the cargo bay?” Bit asked, remembering the security team had been down there.

  “Shit,” Jack exclaimed as he crossed to the comm. system and punched in the right frequency. “Kat?”

  “Here, Cap,” came Kat’s voice over the comm.


  “Is everyone out of the cargo bay?”

  “Yes, sir. We’re all out.”

  “Good. Cargo bay has been depressurized,” Jack said into the comm. before turning back to the group. “Forrest, Oden, get suited up.”

  “Excuse me, but I decide who repairs the hatch,” growled Dirk.

  “Of course, Dirk. My apologies. Who would you like to go out in EV suits and repair the hatch?”

  Dirk glanced around the small group gathered in the bridge as he crossed his arms, his teeth audibly grinding together. “Well, far be it from me to counter your orders, Captain. Oden and Forrest will be fine.”

  Oden and Forrest didn’t wait for further instructions, but raced out of the bridge, their feet clunking down the stairs. Bit glanced around at the small group still on the bridge before turning to leave. Her whole body ached from the fight and all she wanted was to take a nap.

  “Bit,” called Dirk, speaking to her directly for the first time. “We might need your small stature. Stick around.”

  Bit opened her mouth to protest, but snapped it shut. If she was needed then she was needed. Her nap would just have to wait.

  She hovered in the bridge for thirty minutes while Dirk and Jack communicated with the men working outside the ship. Bit was just about to lower herself to the floor to wait it out when Jack turned to her.

  “Looks like you’re needed.”

  Bit frowned, panic forming in her gut. “For what?”

  “I don’t know exactly, but it sounds like they need your help reaching something. Get down there and suit up.”

  Bit ignored the fear and raced down the stairs to the lowest level. Randal was already there with her EV suit, ready to help her gear up. Within minutes, they had her dressed and through the airlock. Bit scanned the lit cargo bay, spotting the pock marks where their rounds had struck the metal walls or the carbon-fiber crates.

  She walked along the catwalk around the perimeter of the cargo bay to the distant hatch leading into the small compartment where the lone skiff waited. Forrest and Oden stood on the small catwalk, waiting for her. They transferred through the useless airlock and she stopped in her tracks, eyeing the enormous expanse of space laid out in front of her.