Space Cowboy Survival Guide

by Long, Heather

“Because he didn’t have to contact me. He didn’t have to tell me how he tracked the Gilly when the Rosen Engine was engaged, and he didn’t have to admit to his participation in what happened to you.”

  All fair points.

  “Is it possible,” Tika asked giving Nina’s hand a squeeze, “that he is lying?”

  “Why would he lie about something likely to get him shot?” Vega seemed to favor the most direct route between two points.

  “Because the wealthy don’t think like that,” Kestral admitted. It wasn’t clear if he referred to himself on the wealthy side or the rest of them. “He owns a planet, but he doesn’t want his reputation damaged. Going to his family would mean he has to admit culpability, which creates liability. Most colonial courts could seize their assets if Nina brings charges.”

  “How does she bring charges without more information on who she is?” Tika impressed Nina more and more with each word she spoke. “In order to be legally accountable, she has to legally exist. She doesn’t—without an ID card, she can’t even enter a port.”

  “What about DNA?” Shaw hadn’t let go of the thread. “Are there centralized DNA libraries on the various colonial worlds?”

  “Some,” Vega said, then shrugged. “Lots don’t like it. The main DNA registry of Earth cost a lot of families and inspired more to make the rush for space. DNA registries mean you can be declined for residence or employment if you carry a genetic marker they find undesirable.”

  Shaw didn’t argue with him, so it must have been true. What a hideous concept, and yet for one brief moment she’d thought they might be able to learn her identity.

  “I don’t want to sue him,” Nina said, surprising herself when the words came out. Yet, it was true—she didn’t want to sue him. She simply wanted to live her life, whatever life she might have. “But I don’t want them to do this to anyone else.”

  “Not even if they did it to him?” The challenge from Kestral steeled her resolve.

  “No. If they did this to him, he’d never know what he did wrong. He’d never learn his lesson.”

  The captain gave her a long, measured look. “Then we take him on long enough to track down the Order’s facility and destroy it.”

  “You’re not a mercenary, Captain.” Why she felt the need to dispute his offer, she didn’t know.

  “No, ma’am.” The captain straightened. “I’m just a man who takes care of his own. They did you wrong. Now we fix it.”

  He glanced to each of the others standing there, and Kestral lifted a hand. “If he tries to screw us, can I kill him?”

  Nina didn’t mean to, but she grinned. It was such a genuine offer of violence.

  “I don’t mind,” Shaw said. “Nina? Do you?”

  Did she? Glancing at Kestral, she said, “If he does something that would hurt any of you—I vote yes, let Kestral kill him.”

  “Agreed,” Vega said, and Tika simply nodded.

  “Yes,” Kestral said with a gentle fist pump.

  So, they were going back to where they found her.

  “You ready for this?” Shaw asked her.

  No, but she lied. “Let’s do it.”

  9

  Rule #39 Never tell anyone more than you need them to know or enough to keep them out of trouble.

  Shaw Sullivan

  Once decided, Shaw got to work on their change of plans. A modification of the shock shackle put Kestral in charge of Byron. In any other instance, he wouldn't have trusted Kestral with such a delicate matter, even if the former bounty hunter had proven time and again he could get the job done. No, Shaw’s reasoning for choosing Kestral to tackle the assignment had more to do with his capability of pulling the trigger if necessary.

  Of everyone else on board—well, he certainly didn’t want to ask Tika to kill anyone, and he wasn’t going to give Nina a weapon. Vega had made his objections to weaponry clear very early on. As an engineer, he liked to build things and refused to actively participate in destroying them. In fact, one of the first things Shaw had done once the decision had been made was offer Vega a chance to disembark. Vega hired on to the Gilly in the first place in order to get off Purgatory. With Purgatory their first destination, he wouldn’t have faulted the man the desire to disembark.

  Vega surprised him with his refusal. The engineer would rather get the work done, stick around to give them a hand. Just because he didn't like the fight didn't mean he wasn't capable of helping. Or in his words, “Some assholes just need to be put down.”

  Shaw admired conviction and didn't remotely disagree with the man. So they took advantage of the resources on Byron's planet, and spent the next three days getting the Gilly completely outfitted for their mission. In addition to the repairs, Vega upgraded their engines and fuel injection system. He tried to explain all of it, but Shaw finally had him break it down to schematics and how to turn it on and off. If the engineer’s plans proved successful, Shaw would take the time to learn every tick. As proposed, the upgrade would allow them to travel farther sustained flight longer with only half the fuel. Fuel comprised the largest weight factor for the Gilly. By cutting down how much fuel they consumed and thus had to store, they would gain more space for supplies and increased their overall speed capabilities in atmosphere.

  More difficult than managing the crew, however, proved to be Zed. Alone in the cockpit, Shaw programmed in the course updates. Zed wasted no time in lodging his objections.

  “Captain, procedures dictate no returns to previous stops. It is inefficient use of time and resources as well as a violation of the operational directive.”

  “Acknowledged. We’re still going.”

  “Captain, let the record reflect, you are in violation of…”

  Shaw gave the computer an almost apologetic smile as he keyed in the commands to interrupt Zed’s current algorithm. The speakers went strangely silent. Yes, Zed was an AI. He'd been developed and designed by engineers on Earth Prime, not only to act as Shaw's copilot but also as the compass and guide for all of their stops.

  Zed acted as a library of the available information about the colonies as well as a repository for all of the knowledge they would gather. Shaw needed his copilot, but he needed Zed onboard with the plan. The coding took far longer than he wanted to admit, but he wasn’t letting anyone else get into Zed’s brain. One benefit of the many months he spent traveling—it allowed him time to read every manual regarding the Gilly and the Zed artificial intelligence engine.

  Circumventing the preprogramming regarding their course, destinations, and mission and reinstating the logic circuit took days, not hours. Vega reported the engines were ready, nearly a full day before Shaw was ready to bring Zed online. He didn't stint on his work nor did he take any breaks. When the others came to the hatchway inquiring if he needed anything, he sent them away with very little commentary. Tika took advantage of her access to enter the cockpit, though she said nothing to interrupt him, leaving him food and drink where he could reach it. She returned on twice more, removing his discarded dishes and leaving him fresh. Finger foods and heavily caffeinated beverages—both high in protein—proved beneficial because the fuel got his got his brain working again.

  Each time she returned marked time for him, emphasizing how long it was taking him to complete his task. By the time he was finished, he had both a crick in his neck and a sore spot between her shoulder blades. When he brought Zed back online, then reentered their course corrections and destinations, he took a deep breath before hitting enter. After hitting enter—he wasn't too proud to admit it—he prayed.

  “Destinations acknowledged, Captain. Please note we have visited these destinations previously. Enter the valid log code authorizing real return.”

  Shaw high-fived himself. Rising he said, “Authorization Sullivan, Shaw. Humanitarian mission. Override previously scheduled destinations.”

  “Acknowledged, Captain. Beginning diagnostics in preparation for launch.”

  Shaw raised both hands to the heavens both i
n celebration and to stretch for all he was worth. Now, he needed a shower, a hot meal, and to see what the hell everyone else was up to, not necessarily in that order. On the crew deck, he found his passengers in various states of readiness. Tika worked in kitchen services, creating many meals that could be grabbed on the go. Loaded with protein bars, hydration cups, and fast nutrients they would be useful at every stage of their upcoming operation. He snaked one on his way through then paused long enough to give her a kiss on her cheek.

  Surprise flickered through the younger girl’s eyes, and she gave him a startled giggle. “What was that for?”

  “No reason,” Shaw said. “Thanks for the lunch. Get some rest.” He made it all the way to the hatch to the crew deck before he added, “That's an order, Miss Anderson. Got busy few days ahead of us.”

  Her light laughter followed him down the hallway.

  His next stop was 9-A’s quarters. “Nina, you awake?” he asked as he knocked on the hatchway.

  “Enter.” At her acknowledgment, he nudged the hatchway open and leaned in. He found Nina standing in the center of her barren quarters, hand stretched over her head toward the ceiling a light grimace on her expression. She wore a pair of dark khaki work pants and an oversized, long-sleeved work shirt. Her feet remained bare.

  “How's the injury?” It been a long three days, and he hadn't really checked on her since they got started with their prep.

  “It's healing.” She didn't open her eyes to look at him, instead she continued with her stretches. “Both Vega and Tika suggested I begin a light regimen of working out to build up my strength. I've been eating regular meals. According to the med scan, my nutrient levels are at optimal and the vitamin deficiencies are beginning to self-correct. I want to be useful on this mission, Captain.”

  “Yeah, you may still spend the mission confined to the ship. You're the target, which means you might be more of a distraction on the ground than a help.” He didn't mean to sound harsh, but facts were facts.

  “Understood. Doesn't mean I can't still help. I can do it. Tika it does with the supplies, or I can get Vega to show me how to handle repairs, or you can put me to work somewhere else.” Opening her eyes, she stared at him, not letting go of her pose as she stretched her arms behind her and clasped her hands together. “This was done to me. Whether they can ever justify or not why it was done to me, it was done to me.”

  Shaw understood her position and willingness. “I'll put you to work, on my terms. You do it my way. And only my way.”

  “Sir, yes sir.” They shared a long look, Shaw searched her eyes and her expression for any signs of deception or misleading in her commitment. Everything about her manner and her tone suggested she was on board, one hundred percent.

  “We got this.” Leaving her to her workout, he returned to the corridor and sealed the hatch. Bypassing the empty crew quarters, Shaw headed for the hold and engine room. If neither Vega nor Kestral were on the crew level, then Byron wouldn’t have been left alone with the women. Though Kestral had taken great glee putting the shock shackle on Byron, he wouldn’t let the man wander anywhere on the ship without supervision.

  On that matter, Shaw and Kestral were in perfect sync—another reason Shaw had been fine with locking himself into the cockpit to work uninterrupted. Kestral would keep the others in line.

  On the way to the hold, Shaw took a bite of his protein bar while noting the number of changes which had taken place during his sojourn. Container storage had been reorganized. Supply crates were stacked in order of necessity, with foodstuffs on the outermost. All med supplies had been categorized and re-created into a specific color-coded system. Shaw wasn't sure whether that was Vega or Tika, but he liked the simplicity of it all.

  He headed over to Thunder and Lightning's containment units to check the readouts on their life monitors. Both horses appeared to be an optimal shape, all readings within the normal range and no signs of stress in either’s brain patterns. Bringing the horses along had his most selfish action to date. The government understood what work he’d been doing—they'd known he'd been working on developing genetically superior species capable of adapting to all environments. What they didn't know was how he’d already achieved success. Though he left the family mired in debt and been forced to mortgage the ranch to the hilt, Thunder and Lightning were the dawn of a new breed.

  And if he had to leave Earth to pay off the debts he'd incurred on the way to their creation, then they were going with him.

  Making his way through the hold, Shaw inspected other changes Vega had employed. Updated sensor arrays to both interior and exterior of the ship would give them a greater insight into every world they visited while also providing better internal security. After all, it had been the lack of such internal sensors that Kestral had taken advantage of when he boarded the Gilly. Though the other man grumbled about it, he hadn't sent shown any real objection in showing Vega where he'd hidden. The ship would be more secure, the crew more protected.

  Kestral, Vega, and Byron were in the engine room. The changes there were even more significant than anywhere else aboard a ship. At his appearance, the three men went silent.

  Shaw inspected the engines, not betraying his study of their body language while he was at it. Though Byron was technically a prisoner, he was also a client after a fashion. He’d brought the information to them, and his information had proven correct so far. But it also hurt one of their crew… It took Shaw a moment to realize he considered Nina one of his crew. Much as he considered Kestral a member of the crew, and Tika—she’d been the first. As for Vega, he’d hired him on, but Tika earned her place and Kestral stole his way in.

  Byron had not earned such a distinction, as yet. His cooperation on the upcoming mission, its potential success, and the undoing of some of his more criminal deeds might go a long way toward leavening some good will and a berth aboard the ship. Though why a man who could afford his own planet would even want a berth aboard the Gilly, Shaw had no idea.

  “Status, Vega?” They didn’t have time for pleasantries. What little he had possessed, he’d spent on the women. The men could take care of themselves.

  “Squared away, Captain. The new units are installed and working at optimal performance.” He motioned to a generator now occupying a spot where a fuel cell had once been. “I modified the fuel cell, cannibalizing the parts from here so that everything within the substations would recognize it. Your AI is designed to reject any alien modifications, so I figured if I used the same materials and wiring…”

  “Zed wouldn't give you any grief.” Shaw took his time walking the length of the engine room deck, his attention on the details. He knew every inch of ship, so he could see the changes Vega had brought.

  “So what happens if this fancy engine doesn't work the way you think it should?” Kestral asked.

  “That we go down in a blaze of glory.” Vega said without a smile or hint of humor. “But it'll work. The microwaves it generates provide nearly as much, if not more, thrust than original fuel cell. It also renews itself, which means you don't have to refuel. You can burn longer, go faster, and get farther.”

  Which was why Shaw had agreed to the modifications, even if it took them a few days longer to get moving on the mission. If they were going to poke the bear, it was better to have a getaway vehicle waiting that went faster than the bear.

  Not to mention, fuel piracy seemed to be a common theme on most of the worlds he visited. He couldn't help but think about EA-114, Paradise. The town had been raked over the coals, it's population terrorized by pirates out to make easy money by pillaging everything the planet had to offer. Even its faith in humanity.

  He used to watch vids and read books about frontier justice. Admired how clean and elegant it could be. It was the most basic way of living. Do someone wrong, they came after you. Do a lot of people wrong and be hung.

  The Order of the IV done a lot of people wrong. It was time to hang them.

  “Do your final checks.
We’re leaving at planetary first light. I want everybody rested, which means rack time.” He headed back toward the hold. “No arguments, gentlemen. Secure Mr. Wynn in his quarters, Kestral. Then get some sleep.”

  “What if I’m not tired?” Of course Kestral had to argue. It just seemed to be in the man's nature.

  “Then I’ll knock your ass out,” Shaw said on his way to the exit. “Wouldn't want you to miss out on your shuteye.”

  Needing sleep every bit as much as the others, he still had one last stop to make after he completed his full visual inspection of the Gilly. If anything ended up happening to them and he lost the ship, well, someone out there should know. The mission itself had one caveat—he had them incorporated with contract back on earth. In the event of the Gilly’s destruction or the death of Captain Sullivan while in the exercise of his duties, all debts and mortgages on the family's ranch would be forgiven and his family would have time to get back on their feet

  Maybe he shouldn't be doing this. The momentary hesitation had him pausing as he made his way through the maintenance hatches. Maybe he shouldn't be taking on the burdens that belonged to others. Bad enough that he let Tika on board —but she'd saved his life more than once. Kestral forced his way on, but had proven a viable crewmember. Despite his temperament which made his loyalty all the more valuable.

  He’d hired Vega, the man’s skills alone made him worth the cost Shaw paid out of a private account. They cut him a deal, too, though the engineer hadn't been clear on the details of why he wanted the hell off Purgatory or why he been willing to work for that passage. When Shaw offered to pay him for his expertise, they found a mutual ground together. It helped that Vega understood shifts in the latest technologies and developments made in the colonial settlements since the Corbin Space rush. Development on Earth Prime had moved one way, development out here… It moved somewhere else.

  Nina was a refugee. He no sooner would’ve kicked her off the boat then he would Tika. Maybe it was the female thing. Maybe it was archaic of him to think that the damsels in distress really did need his help. Maybe he was just arrogant enough to think he could give it. Regardless of why, for now, she was on board and she was his responsibility. That left Byron, the sanctimonious, smug, and wealthy inventor. He could've gone a lot of ways, given his involvement in the situation. He certainly had enough money to cover it up.