by JN Chaney
Lex stood beside the wall, watching us as we gathered. “Kid, you can come out,” I said. “It’s safe now.”
“It was safe before,” she responded. “They came anyway.”
“And if we don’t get out of here, they’ll come again with a different ship,” I said.
“Jace!” snapped Abigail.
“Well, it’s true,” I said. “We need to get the hell off this Union ship and as far from it as possible.”
“What about the boy?” asked Hitchens. “You don’t plan to kill him, do you?”
“Why not?” I asked.
“W-Well, he’s just a child, practically.”
“Old enough to join the Union,” I said. “Old enough to die for them.”
“I don’t care about the Union,” the ensign said. “I swear, I’m nobody. I’m fresh out of training!”
“We can’t just let you go, pal. You’ve seen too much,” I said.
“Captain, couldn’t we use the space in the cargo bay?” asked Freddie.
“What space?” I asked.
“I assume he means the spot behind the wall, where you stowed us during the ordeal with that Fratley person,” said Hitchens.
“Oh,” I said, knowing exactly what he meant, but not wanting to say it. The last thing I needed was another mouth to feed, especially a prisoner.
“If we take him, we might be able to get some intelligence out of him,” suggested Freddie.
“Intelligence?” I asked. “He’s a kid. He doesn’t know shit.”
“I-I can tell you how we followed you,” he said, quickly.
“How’s that, now?” I asked, waving my pistol at him.
He followed the barrel with his eyes. “Didn’t you notice how fast we docked with you?”
I paused. “What do you mean?”
Abigail touched the rifle to his forehead. “Please, continue.”
“The cloak,” he answered. “We have a sixth-generation cloak. It’s the latest in a new line, issued only to a handful of ships.”
Sixth generation? I thought. I took a step closer to him. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” he returned. “They upgraded us to it last month. It allows us the ability to travel through slipspace without decloaking. I swear, I’m telling you the truth.”
“Through slipspace?” asked Hitchens.
I approached him. “Are you telling me you can cloak inside slipspace?”
“Yes, yes,” he said, quickly. “We were cloaked when we followed you through the tunnel. We were tracking you before that, ever since you left the hospital.”
Sigmond spoke through the com in my ear. “That matches my observations, sir. I believe he is telling the truth.”
So, that’s why the tunnel hadn’t closed behind us. We were being followed, only we couldn’t see the ship. I knew it had to be something. Tunnels never stayed open for that long without something coming through.
“What do you think, Captain?” asked Octavia.
“I believe him,” said Freddie.
“So do I,” agreed Hitchens.
Octavia motioned at him. “We should take him with us for now, maybe interrogate him later. If nothing else, we could use him as a hostage.”
“Agreed,” said Hitchens.
“Since everyone’s chiming in with opinions, what are yours, Abby?” I asked.
She stared down at the ensign, a look of quiet hate in her eyes. “You and the others keep coming for us,” she said in a steady tone. “How many times has it been?”
“I promise, I had nothing to do with that,” he answered.
“You’re here now,” she said.
He didn’t answer.
Abigail’s hands were tight around the grip of the rifle. Her eyes were fixed, unblinking, staring at the man in front of her. I’d seen that look a hundred times. The gears were turning in her head as she slowly convinced herself what she had to do…to pull that trigger.
“Abby,” came a soft voice from behind the others. It was Lex, standing beside the cell door.
The nun blinked, loosening her grip. She turned around to look at Lex.
“I wanna go,” said the little girl. “Can we please?”
Abigail looked down at the man, the debate raging in her brain. “Lex has the right idea,” said Freddie. “Let’s get back to the ship.”
After a moment, Abigail eased back, off the chest of the ensign. She said nothing, getting to her feet. Lex took her hand and together they walked out of the brig.
I took the ensign by his shirt and yanked him onto his feet. “Kid says you get to live,” I told him. “Guess it’s your lucky day.”
ELEVEN
“Are you sure about this?” asked Octavia, looking up at me.
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my entire life,” I said.
I wrapped my arms around the coffeemaker and lifted it with all my strength, there in the center lobby of the Union ship.
“If you say so, but I don’t like the idea of moving anything from this ship onto ours.”
“Oh, it’s our ship, is it?” I asked, trying to look at her from behind the massive machine.
“You know what I mean,” she said.
“Listen, lady, as the Captain of our ship, it’s my decision, and I’m deciding that this beautiful piece of technology is essential to the job.”
I began waddling toward the exit, trying not to drop it.
Octavia grabbed her wheels. “Whatever you say,” she said, rolling close behind me. “How long before we leave?”
“As soon as I get this where it belongs,” I said as I drew nearer to the airlock. “Freddie! Where are you?”
“Over here, Captain!” He yelled from inside the ship. He came running a moment later.
“Help me with this,” I ordered.
Freddie gripped the bottom of the device. “Oof!” he let out, clearly as surprised by the weight of it as I was.
“Hold her steady now,” I said as the two of us edged our way through the two airlocks.
“You don’t even know if the coffee is any good,” said Octavia.
“It has to be. It’s from a Union ship,” I said.
We brought the coffeemaker over to an empty table, the same spot as the last one, and set it down. “Whew,” wheezed Fred.
“Think you can figure this out on your own?” I asked.
He looked confused. “Huh?”
“Make me some coffee,” I explained. “Can you handle it?”
“Oh, I, uh, I guess so.” He glanced at the machine.
“Great,” I said as I began jogging to the cargo bay. “Don’t fuck it up!”
Abigail and Hitchens were downstairs when I arrived, standing together near the center of the bay, looking at the fake wall where we’d stuck our new prisoners.
Prisoners, because there were three of them: the ensign from the brig, the man Abigail had knocked out, who was still unconscious, and the wounded guy named Docker. Octavia had seen to his bandages, despite my reservations.
“Ah, Captain,” said Hitchens. “Are we departing?”
“Right as usual, Hitch,” I said, going down the steps.
Abigail still had the Union rifle resting across her chest. “We were just discussing how to best tend to these men,” she said, motioning to the fake wall.
“I had Fred raid their food supply while we brought them in here, so they can eat on that,” I said.
She nodded. “Until we figure out where to take them.”
“About that, if I might make a suggestion,” interjected Hitchens. “There is a binary star system, not far from here.”
“That so?” I asked, not liking where this was going.
Hitchens tapped his chin. “Are there any ravagers or otherwise dangerous types roaming that area?”
“None that I know of,” I said. “But if you’re suggesting we go out of our way just to drop a few Union brats off, I’m not sure I care enough to do it. There has to be something on our way.”
“I
’m afraid there isn’t,” Hitchens said. “I’ve looked through the star chart and this is our best option.”
We didn’t have time for an argument, not while we were still tethered to a Union ship. “Let’s get moving and worry about the logistics later. You said that binary system is nearby? How far are we talking?”
“Two slip tunnels, I believe. Combined, the trek would amount to one day’s journey. The first tunnel is the same as our current heading, however, regardless of what you decide.”
“Fine, we’ll take the first and figure the rest out later,” I said.
I wasn’t interested in keeping these men on my ship, but the thought of going that far out of the way to drop them off seemed like a waste of resources and time. Why had I stopped myself from killing all three of them when I had the chance? They’d come on this ship, captured my crew, tried to take my home away from me. These assholes deserved to die.
So why hadn’t I killed them? Why did I give Abigail or the albino a say in what I did and who I shot?
Had I lost my touch, somehow?
Or was I getting soft?
* * *
Siggy managed to quarantine the other A.I., preventing it from calling anyone. At the same time, set the ship’s course for the nearby gas giant, where it would enter the atmosphere and, with any luck, never be seen again.
I couldn’t say it was much of a loss. That was one less Union ship in the galaxy.
What concerned me more than anything, presently, were the men in our storage room. One way or another, I’d have to decide what to do with them.
But not before I took care of an important matter. “Freddie! Get your ass in here!”
I was in the lounge, staring at the recently-acquired coffeemaker.
“Captain, is that you?” called Freddie from inside one of the guest quarters.
He came running a second later. “Where’s my coffee, Freddie? I thought I told you to make some.”
“I tried, but the machine is complicated,” he said. I watched him mess with the control panel, attempting to punch in a command. “Medium cup, two creamers, no sugar. See? It won’t work.”
I moved him aside. “You’re doing it wrong.”
“Was I?” he asked. “I suppose I’m not used to it.”
I tried entering another string of orders into the machine, then pressed Enter. Nothing happened.
“Maybe it’s broken,” Freddie suggested.
“Already? We just got the damn thing. No way it needs fixing this soon.”
“What do you suggest we—”
“Is something wrong in here?” asked Hitchens as he arrived from the cargo bay.
“We’re trying to get this to work,” I said, turning the machine around to get a peek behind it.
“Did you, by chance, procure it from the Union ship?” Hitchens asked.
I looked at him. “Where else would I get it?”
“Ah, I see. In that case, I believe you’ll need to have your A.I. unit integrate with it.”
“What are you going on about?” I asked.
“Everything on Union ships is tied into its A.I. unit, even smaller devices like this one,” explained Hitchens.
I scoffed. “Why the hell didn’t Octavia tell me about this when I dragged the damn thing over here?”
“She may have assumed you knew,” Hitchens said.
Now that I thought about it, I’d heard from Ollie a few months ago that the Union was moving away from independent hardware, preferring to use a closed system on each of their ships. He’d been complaining at the time about how more and more of the Union tech he’d bought had to be reconfigured to work outside of their ships. I thought nothing of it at the time.
“Goddammit,” I muttered. “Siggy, can you interface with this thing?”
“Attempting now,” said the A.I. “Access granted.”
“That was fast,” I said.
“I do aim to please, sir.”
I punched in the command again and stepped back.
A glorious smell filled the lounge, igniting my senses. I went for the cup as soon as the machine finished, pressing the rim of the cup to my lips, and sipping.
And then I spit it out.
“What the fuck!” I snapped, setting the cup down.
“Is it bad?” asked Freddie.
Hitchens grabbed a second mug and filled it, taking a short drink. “Oh, goodness,” he said, scrunching his nose. “That is not good at all.”
“Fucking Union,” I cursed. “They can’t even get coffee right!”
* * *
Docker’s wound tore again and had to be sewn. Octavia managed it while Freddie and I held him down. We couldn’t have him trying anything, not that I thought he would.
Still, I wasn’t a fool. Abigail kept a rifle pointed at his skull, just to be safe.
His eyes stayed locked on the barrel the entire time. I couldn’t say I blamed him, what with the anger in Abby’s eyes. She was ruthless when she had to be, and when it came to protecting Lex, I knew she’d do anything.
“That should do it,” said Octavia, relaxing back in her chair. “He needs to rest, though.”
“That right, Docker?” I asked. “You need to rest?”
“Whatever you want!” he said, still looking at Abigail.
I leaned forward. “How about you answer a quick question for me?”
“Okay,” he said, breathing heavily.
“Who sent you after us? What were your orders?”
“Our orders?”
“Don’t play stupid, Docker. Next to your captain, who’s dead now, by the way, you’re the highest-ranking person in your crew. I’m sure you know why you’re here. Better yet, who gave you the order in the first place?”
He gulped, a bead of sweat running down his fat neck. “Th-That would be General Brigham. He’s—”
“Did you just say Brigham? The guy in charge of the Galactic something?”
“The UFS Galactic Dawn,” he answered, nodding.
I stared into his terrified eyes, seeing if there was any truth in there. I wagered there was, given how much fear I saw in him. But he was smart. He knew how to stay alive, and right now the only way to do that was to tell me the truth.
I got to my feet and looked at Abigail. “Let’s put him back with the other two.”
She lowered her gun, but only slightly. “You’re done asking questions?”
“For now,” I said, glancing at Docker. “But the two of us are going to speak again, Docker. You got that? And I don’t want any problems from you.”
“No problems, sir,” he said.
We tossed him in the cell and closed the wall, locking him inside with the other two prisoners, the ensign and the officer who’d tried to tie up Abigail. They had no light, no bathroom, nothing but the cold metal surrounding them on all sides. It was hardly a way to live, but certainly better than dying.
* * *
Abigail and I met in the cockpit, a few minutes later. She placed her rifle at the door. “What’s going on?” she asked me.
I cut right to it. “Who the fuck is Brigham?” I asked. “Does he have some vendetta against you? Was he there when you kidnapped the kid?”
“Brigham? He’s the head of the Union’s Third Defense Operational Wing. He controls their largest carrier.”
“A carrier,” I repeated. “A ship that’s so goddamn big it can fit a thousand of mine inside it. That’s the guy chasing you.” I paused, shaking my head. “The guy chasing us.”
She nodded. “But he can’t find our ship if we keep moving.”
“We were moving, but these six idiots still managed to find us.”
“I wasn’t expecting that.”
“You and me both. Siggy, can you pull up everything you have on General Brigham?”
“Right away, sir.”
I leaned against the wall, pulling out a piece of hard candy and unwrapping it. Before tossing it back in my mouth, I glanced at Abigail, who seemed to be watching me. �
�You want one?” I asked, offering the sweet.
“Oh, I’m okay,” she said, holding her palm up.
“Suit yourself,” I said, throwing the candy back. It was a delicious kessil flavor, based on a fruit from Kandil Six. Common enough that you could find it on just about every planet in Union space as well as most Deadlands worlds. Common for a reason, I thought. They were easy to grow, simple to harvest. But more importantly, they were perfect for hangovers.
I had six sitting in the fridge. Maybe I’d go and grab two of them when this business was over, along with some soup. I ran out of tomato, but I still had a noodle and beef blend waiting for me in the cabinet. Now that I thought about it, I really needed to go grocery shopping.
Did they have grocers this far out in the Deadlands? I honestly didn’t know.
“Analysis complete,” said Siggy. “Please forgive the delay, sir. I had to mask our network ID before accessing the galactic net.”
“No problem,” I said, cracking the candy with my teeth. “Let’s see this guy’s bio.”
A holographic display appeared over my console, showing the head and chest of a middle-aged man with white hair and brown eyes. The image, if I had to guess, probably came from his military record, since he wore a Union dress outfit, his chest fixed with a large block of ribbons. I couldn’t guess what any of them were for, but if the biography was any indication, the man understood war better than most.
