by JN Chaney
“What’s your suggestion, then?” I asked.
She paused a second, looking down at the bandage that was still in her lap. She picked it up, and the bloodstained ends of the cloth fell against her arm. “I might have an idea.”
* * *
Octavia called for Hitchens to join us in the cargo bay, suggesting he bring an electron microscope, along with Lex. He got there in a hurry, clumsily making his way through the corridor with the bulky equipment in his hands.
“Where shall I set it down?” he asked, breathing heavily as he stepped into the cargo bay. Lex was right behind him, carrying her little rocket ship, flying it in the air and making whooshing sounds.
“Preferably where I can reach,” said Octavia.
“Ah, on the table, then.” He waddled over to the side of the room, near the locker. “Here we are.”
“Lex, honey, can you come here a moment?” asked Abigail.
The girl did as she was asked, running over to Abby’s side. The nun took her hand and smiled.
Octavia motioned for her to come closer. “Can I see your hand again, Lex?”
“Uh huh,” said Lex, extending her arm.
The assistant archeologist and former Union medic took a small device and placed it gently on the girl’s wrist. It resembled a gun, in a way, with a trigger and a grip. She placed the barrel to the kid’s skin, and I heard a soft click.
Lex didn’t seem to notice, if there was even any pain. She used her free hand to continue playing with the rocket, flying the toy around her head, and smiling.
Octavia eventually let her go. “All done,” she said. “You can go play now.”
Lex didn’t say anything, but instead ran back down the stairs and into the larger part of the bay.
“What’s your plan here?” I asked, once the girl was far enough away.
“We’re going to perform an analysis on her skin cells to see what we can find,” said Octavia.
“What results are you expecting?” I asked.
“I’m not sure yet,” she admitted. “We may not find anything at all, but there’s something going on. I think we can all agree on that.”
I nodded.
“How long will this take?” asked Abigail.
“Half an hour at most,” she said. “You’re welcome to—”
My earpiece clicked. “Sir, if you don’t mind,” interjected Sigmond. “There’s a slipspace tunnel opening nearby.”
I held up my hand to quiet the group, then touched the side of my ear. “Did you say a tunnel, Siggy?”
“That is correct. I’m running a scan now to determine the arriving vessel’s classification code.”
“I’ve gotta go,” I said. “Stay here and play with your blood. Or skin. Or whatever. I’ll be on the bridge.”
“Is something wrong, Captain?” asked Hitchens.
“Someone just came out of slipspace, same direction we did. It could be trouble, but I don’t know yet.”
“Someone?” echoed Abigail. “But we aren’t close to any colonies.”
I could tell where she was going with this, and I would’ve been lying if I said it wasn’t already in my head. If anyone had come this way, so far from any known colonies, there was a good chance it had something to do with us. That might not be a guarantee, but I wasn’t taking the risk. Not today.
I started jogging towards the front of the ship, ordering Sigmond to lock the door behind me once I was inside the cockpit. I didn’t have time for any distractions, whether it was from the nun or the kid. I had work to do.
“Siggy, what do we have?” I asked, grasping the controls, prepared to fire the quad cannon, should the need arise.
“I detect no incoming vessels,” Siggy responded.
“None? Then why’s there a tunnel opening?”
“Uncertain.”
“Well, you better get certain right fucking now.”
“Understood, sir. Continuing scans.”
The rift closed after another moment, sealing the green waves away so that only the stars remained. I sat there, not even blinking. Just waiting like a jackass.
“Siggy?” I said. “Anything?”
“No sign of movement,” he answered. “This is most unusual, sir.”
“Unusual?” I repeated. “When was the last time you saw a slipspace tunnel close without anyone coming through it?”
“I have no records of such an event.”
“Neither do I,” I muttered, staring through the display. I touched the console, wondering if maybe Sigmond’s detection protocols were acting up. It had been a while since I had him updated. Maybe he’d missed something.
No, the secondary scans checked out, or at least matched the results Siggy had given.
Whatever was going on, it didn’t sit right with me…and I knew better than to ignore that feeling.
SIX
Seven hours and two slip tunnels later, our scans detected a small moon colony near a system called Proxi Beta, called so because it was the lesser neighbor to Proxi Alpha.
The system was technically inside Sarkonian space, although there were only a handful of military ships in the area. That was because this colony was still under construction, which is why I’d chosen to come here. It would still be a few months before the system was bustling with enough activity to give me anything to worry about. Until then, I could refuel and resupply, then be on my way, all without anyone noticing.
Besides, the Sarkonians allowed traders to visit their outermost colonies, which they often set up as commercial zones. It helped keep their crumbling economy alive. Thanks to my Renegade contacts, and using the galnet, I was able to procure some credentials as a salvage operator. It was low key enough to avoid drawing attention, while also giving me a valid reason to be here, off in the middle of nowhere.
“Does everyone have their assignments?” asked Abigail, standing beside me in the cargo bay. The Renegade Star had just made landfall on the moon, entering its habitation dome and parking in the third-largest of its docking platforms. Spot 226.
Freddie nodded. “I’m on fuel.”
“And we’re to stay put,” said Hitchens, referring to himself and Octavia.
“Right,” confirmed Abigail. “Let’s not take more time than we need. No sightseeing.”
“I doubt there’s much to see, anyway,” I said.
“What are you two doing?” asked Freddie, motioning at the nun and me.
“We’re on ship supplies,” I answered.
“You mean food,” said Octavia, giving me a look.
I raised my brow. “That might be part of it.”
“You just want to eat and get drunk.”
“I’m the captain of this rig and I get to decide what kind of rations we carry. End of story.”
“Fine, but at least get something we can all enjoy. Not just meat sticks and all that overly processed garbage you’re so fond of.”
“I make no promises,” I said.
Abigail clasped her hands together. “Okay, we’ll reconvene at the ship in two hours. Let’s move quickly.” She glanced at me. “And try not to draw too much attention.”
“Are you talking about me, nun?” I asked.
“Who else would she mean?” asked Octavia.
We left Lex on the ship with Octavia and Hitchens, much to her frustration. She didn’t argue, though, when I told her.
It seemed the kid was catching on.
Freddie was just outside, filling the engine with fuel. He’d be the first to return, which meant all Abigail and I had to do was grab our supplies and hurry back. Not a big deal, barring any unforeseen circumstances, but I didn’t anticipate anything crazy. We were in the middle of nowhere on a tiny little moon, no sign or hint of the Union. No cause for alarm.
In the meantime, I could load up on snacks and beer, maybe even find some candy.
Abigail and I entered through the large hangar opening of the colony, which was very clearly still under construction. There were metallic beams l
ying next to the walls, half-completed plaster, and essentially no cosmetic fixtures in place yet.
None of that had stopped thousands from coming here and filling its streets, of course.
The colony was made up of three domes. A central, larger dome, with smaller ones on each side. This was a common design choice for colonies this size, and I recognized it immediately. These things were sturdy enough to withstand their share of meteors, because they had to be, but not tough enough that they could handle a full-on assault. That kind of fortified structure would have taken years to build, unlike this, which had sprung up overnight, likely within the last two months. It wouldn’t really take that much to destroy it, should the Sarkonians or the Union get the urge, but I got the impression that this place had been left off the galnet map for a reason.
“Welcome to Spiketown,” yelled a man with a funny hat as we walked into the massive opening. “Would you care to buy a rifle today? You can’t use them in town, but they’re great for hunting on Decca Three, just a few systems from here. I see you have a handgun there. Might you want some extra ammunition? I’ve got plenty of—”
“Not interested,” I said with a cold voice that suggested if he asked me again, I might pull out his esophagus.
“U-Understood, mister,” he answered, slowly backing away.
A mess of scattered buildings had been built all throughout the dome, lined up side-to-side. “Wonder where the market is,” I said, still scanning the streets.
Abigail walked up to the same man from before. “Hey, where are all the shops?”
“Oh, uh, down this street and to the left, but it’s a walk. That’s why I set mine up here, near the entrance. Pretty smart, right? That way I get to greet all you nice—”
She turned and walked away, leaving him alone to slowly trail off. “Down and to the left,” she said, coming back to us.
“Simple enough,” I remarked.
Octavia’s voice popped into my ear over the comm. “Captain, we’re going to ask around the hangar and see if we can find some medical supplies. I believe there has to be some sort of medical facility. I’ll let you know what I find.” There was a short pause. “Although I have my reservations on the quality.”
“Use the com if things get too hairy,” I said.
“Don’t worry about us,” said Octavia. “I can handle whatever happens. Focus on obtaining the other supplies.”
I smirked. “You gonna beat them with your wheels?”
“Keep talking and I’ll show you firsthand,” she returned.
I laughed as I started walking, almost believing her.
Abigail quickened her pace to match mine as we strolled through the streets towards the market. It was a cold city, if you could even call it one, and it smelled of grease and burning rubber, a common side effect of this sort of construction. The streets teamed with residents and visitors, here for gods-knew-what, most of them in their job uniforms.
We curved around the street, making a left just as the gun merchant had suggested. The market came into view soon, its dozens of tents and hastily built shacks primed for our perusing. I caught a whiff of cooked meat after a moment, and it lingered in the air a while before disappearing. It smelled like charred, smokey beef. As we drew nearer, I spotted a flame-pit with skewers of meat resting on the open fire, and my mouth watered with anticipation.
Without a word to Abigail, I walked briskly to the merchant, waving a finger to get his attention. He nodded at me and removed one of the skewers.
I took the rod and tore into the largest piece of meat. It was rough and chewy, with a strange taste that I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t beef, like I had thought, or any kind of fowl that I knew, but something else. Nothing bad, though, not at all. In fact, you could’ve given me just about any sort of meat and I’d be satisfied.
“How is it?” asked Abigail.
I grinned with the flesh between my teeth. “Better than you’d expect,” I said, biting off another chunk.
“Twelve credits,” said the cook, holding up a pad.
I tapped my ear. “Siggy, transfer the money.”
“Processing,” said Sigmond. “Transaction complete.”
The merchant looked at the pad, nodded, and smiled. “Good doing business with you.”
“Can I just ask,” I said, swallowing and taking another bite. “What is this?”
“Rombdin,” he said, flatly.
I had never heard of that before, so I pressed him further. “What’s Rombdin?”
“You never heard of it?” he asked.
“Should I? Is it a type of bird or something?”
“Vermin,” he said with a shrug. “Like a rat.”
Abigail was standing behind me and gasped, suddenly. “A what?!”
“Vermin,” the man repeated. “What? You don’t like?”
I stared down at the meat that was still left on my stick.
“Jace, put that down!” said Abigail, utter disgust in her voice. “We can’t eat any of this food. How horrible!”
My stomach growled as my eyes lingered on the skewer. “But…”
She shook her head. “This is what happens when you don’t ask more questions before you dive into a situation.”
“But…”
“What? Don’t tell me you’re thinking about eating the rest of that. Do you know what kind of diseases it might be carrying?”
“No diseases,” said the merchant. “If you cook rombdin, it kills everything.”
My mouth salivated at the sight of the meat, its charred skin blending with salt and spice.
“Jace, please, you’re going to get sick if you—”
I tore into the remaining meat, ripping the tough Rombdin flesh and scarfing it. I barely chewed before swallowing.
I raised the skewer and grinned. “Another!”
The merchant returned my smile and handed me a second helping.
Abigail’s mouth dropped and she looked away. “I can’t watch this!”
When I had my fill of the rat-like food, I set the rods on the stone next to the fire pit and got to my feet. “Ready to go? I need to walk this off.” I smacked my belly.
She wouldn’t even look at me. “You smell like vomit. You know that, right?”
I grinned. “Smells like a win to me.”
* * *
Abigail insisted we only buy food that was shipped and imported, sealed and frozen. I tried to argue in favor of bringing some fresh Rombdin back with us, but she wasn’t having it, so I let it go.
After loading a cart’s worth of supplies, I decided I wanted to take a piss, so I told Abigail to stay put while I took care of business.
The nearest restroom was a walk, but there was an alley between two buildings and I didn’t want to wait. I also didn’t see the harm, since it smelled like piss anyway. Leaving the street, I entered the narrow passage and got straight to it.
Right as I was finishing and zipping up my pants, I heard something move behind me. I turned, my hand on my pistol, ready to draw.
It was a young woman, dressed in rags, holding an object beneath her arm. “Oops,” she said, nearly bumping straight into me.
I slid out of the way. “Who are you supposed to be?”
“D-Don’t mind me, mister,” she said, quickly. “Sorry if I scared you.”
“You didn’t.” I looked at the box under her arm. It had a unique design on it, with layers of metal overlaying one another, similar to the ancient artifacts Hitchens had found. “Whatcha got there?”
“Oh, um, it’s nothing,” she said.
The box, if that’s what it was, seemed about the size of my head, give or take. A little bigger than the one Lex had been playing with when she burned her hands. “What are you doing with it?” I asked.
“My father has a shop. You can buy it if you want. We have more of them.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know. You have to ask him. He’s in charge.”
I toyed with the idea of steal
ing it right there, but pushed the impulse away. Abigail would kill me if I swiped something from a kid. “Can you take me to your shop?”
“Uh, sure, mister. You really wanna buy it?”
“I don’t know yet, but maybe.”
She continued toward the street, motioning for me to follow.
Abigail was still standing next to the little cart with the rest of our supplies. I used the com to tell her what I was doing, since the crowd would only slow me down and I wanted to keep pace with the girl.
“What do you mean, you’re going to see about a box?” she asked.
“It’s some sort of relic. Looks a lot like the one Hitchens and Lex were messing with. I figure they might be useful to get. Just take the supplies back and I’ll meet you at the ship.”
She scoffed. “If you think I’m letting you run off like that, you’re crazy,” she said. “I’ll be right there. Sigmond, please send me Jace’s location.”
“Understood,” said Sigmond.
I almost cursed, annoyed at having a potential babysitter, but let it go. “Where’s this place at, kid?” I asked the girl in front of me as we crossed the street.
