Space Cowboy Survival Guide

by Long, Heather

  Shaw grinned. “You let me worry about how I'm getting in and getting out. All I need from the rest of you is a distraction.”

  Tika clapped her hands together. “I know this shouldn't be fun, but I kind of like the idea of working to stick it to them.”

  Of course she did. She'd stuck it to her father. This was simply a step up to sticking it to the distant colonial patron of Earth.

  * * *

  Ten minutes from the drop, Shaw double-checked his gear.

  “You can stop drinking any time now,” Tika ordered Byron as she stepped down into the hold. She’d changed from her comfortable gear back into the white, heavy velvet dress she'd been wearing the first day Shaw had met her. Abandoning the black underdress, she created a whole new look baring her shoulders creating a deep V between her breasts, altogether enhancing her femininity. Shaw didn't like it. She needed to be wearing more clothes. Stumbling along behind her, Byron tried to slide an arm around her waist. She gave him a shove, dislodging his attention.

  “I'm not much of an actor, darling,” the professor slurred. “Trust me when I say you will need me inebriated for this.” As if to emphasize his inebriation, he attempted to cuddle her again.

  This time, Tika slammed her elbow into his stomach. Byron exhaled painfully then started choking. Glancing over to Kestral, who was halfway across the hold still carrying a mini-cannon in his hand, she said, “Changed my mind. I would like a weapon.”

  “Fast and accurate, or just really, really painful?”

  She actually seemed to need the moment think about it. “Really, really painful.”

  Kestral simply gave her a smile. He withdrew a long, wicked looking needle shaped blade. “Just jab it in anywhere. Trust me, he'll know. And it'll hurt.”

  Shaw didn’t know whether to applaud or be terrified at the moment of absolute understanding occurring between Kestral and Tika. Shaking his head, he redirected the conversation before he started cheering them on. “Eyes on the prize, people. We only have a limited window. Vega’s set the shields and the new engine to create disruptions. Internal scanners are down so they’re not going to be able to read what's going on inside the ship. Tika, get back to the cockpit. Take Little Lord Drunken Boy with you.”

  “We know the plan. And we’ll take care of it. You just be safe.”

  “Yes, ma'am,” Shaw said doffing his hat at the same time. “I know what I need to do.”

  Tika returned up the steps to the crew deck dragging Byron along with her. She’d handle piloting the Gilly once they completed the drop off. He wasn't sure if she was ready for such a delicate job. On the other hand, as he’d told her, they needed to look drunk when they were flying and he was pretty sure she could handle that part. If they got into true troubles, Zed would take over.

  “Tell me I can kill him when we’re done with this,” Kestral said in passing as he mounted the mini cannon onto a strap secured to the ceiling.

  “Don't tell me,” Shaw chastised him. “I have to keep my mind on business.”

  The bounty hunter wasn’t through. He double checked the clips on the strapping before he created a sling to lock himself into place alongside the weapon. “If he doesn't keep his hands to himself…”

  Shaw couldn't fault Kestral’s line of thinking. “Feel free to cut them off.”

  “Done deal. You sure you don't want me going with you?” Despite his earlier protestations about needing to be on board to protect Tika, a job Kestral had taken way too seriously, Shaw appreciated the offer.

  “You know how to ride a horse?”

  Though it had been a rhetorical question, much like Zed before him, Kestral gave him a blank look before answering, “No.”

  “Then you stay here.” He walked over to the containment unit where Thunder waited, patiently bridled and saddled and ready to go. The stallion had taken to being woken from stasis while the ship was still in flight getting ready as they descended through the atmosphere very well. Then again, he done exactly as Shaw trained him to do. Patting the animal's neck, he glanced over to Vega, who stuck his head out from the engine room.

  “We good?”

  Vega gave him the thumbs up. “We can probably hold off their scans for about thirty minutes. If she keeps up the drunken flying, we can probably hold it off longer. But once you're on the ground, you're on your own.”

  What the others saw as a drawback, Shaw recognized as a perk. “I'll get the job done. Just be ready on your end.”

  Nina leaned down through the crew hatch from the crew deck. “I still don't know what you want me to do.”

  It was Kestral who answered her, “Go secure yourself in your quarters, and get some rest. You're still healing. This ride is going to be bumpy.”

  “I want to be useful.”

  “Right now, between your injury and your lack of strength, the most use you can be to us is to be out of the way. Be there and be ready for backup if we need it.” Course, if they needed Nina for backup, they were doomed.

  She scowled at Shaw’s advice then nodded. As much as he hated to think of it as an upside, her lack of memories limited her arguments. He really doubted it would last long though. Women were particular in that regard.

  “Worst case scenario, Kestral, this all goes sideways… Dump Byron and get them out of here.”

  Kestral nodded. Byron was still a wildcard. The man's need to right his wrongs and fix the things he done couldn't forgive the sheer volume and size of the mistakes he'd made. Without a certainty of his alliances, the crew would be safer without him on board. Jerkiness had the deck rocking and Shaw caught Thunder’s reins as the horse tossed his head. They were getting close.

  “Drop point in two minutes.”

  Well, this should be interesting. He guided Thunder out of the containment unit, double checking the stirrups then his girth. Afterward, he gave the stallion another pat on the neck. In a low voice, he murmured, “We make it through this, big boy, you and me are going to find ourselves a nice little arboreal world and you get a month off.”

  Thunder whuffled at him, clearly unimpressed with the offer. Shaw double-checked his weapons one more time then swung himself up into the saddle. Kestral locked the strap around his waist as the hatches to the crew deck and the engine sealed. Keeping Thunder parked right behind the secured stack of containers, Shaw regulated his breathing. He needed all his wits about him.

  “Thirty seconds.” Tika’s nerves echoed in her voice. Kestral leaned over and slammed the button on the ramp release. A quiet alarm sounded from Zed. As the ramp swung downwards the landscape below rose to meet them at a dizzying speed. Yet even as Shaw registered their nearness, the ship began to slow. Ocean waves rolled in toward the shore. Shaw gripped Thunder’s reins as the ship made a sudden deceleration, inertial dampeners kicked in. Another gift. Thank you, Vega. Neither he nor the horse went flying.

  The Gilly adjusted course, swinging around suddenly so the beach was right before them, just six feet below the ramp. Shaw didn’t hesitate. Tapping his heels against Thunder’s sides, he settled deep into the saddle and held tight as the stallion lunged forward. They leapt from the ramp and landed on the beach as smoothly as if they’d practiced the maneuver for months. He galloped away even as the Gilly rose, swayed jerkily, then swung back over the bay.

  The feel of the wind in his face, the taste of salt in the air, and the sun on his back offered him an idyllic sense of purpose. It had been far too long since the last time he’d tasted the power of galloping on the back of a powerful animal or feeling the strength in his stallion’s muscles as he gathered and bunched, preparing for the next jump.

  * * *

  Tika Anderson

  * * *

  When Tika first joined Shaw, she could never imagine she would be piloting the Gilly on a hit-and-run mission designed to take out secret program, which converted colonists and turned them into zombies. While that seemed to be a simplistic way of putting it, they had flown halfway across the known universe to a colony worl
d most of the crew hadn’t even known existed, to confront a government she’d barely heard mentioned in school—and then only in passing.

  Palavós. It reminded her of something she would watch on a vid with Shaw and Kestral.

  “Think I’m about throw up.” The stench of Byron's alcohol soused sweat permeated the cockpit and left Tika feeling vaguely ill.

  “There's a bag in the side pocket of the chair. Don't throw up on the console.” She had both hands on the controls, manipulating speed and direction, then correcting their pitch and angle in order to keep climbing and diving again. Their whole plan relied on her flying like a drunken sailor, so why Byron needed to drunk she had yet to figure out.

  “I said I feel like throwing up,” Byron disputed her advice. “Not that I'm going to. Okay, trajectory has us on course for the source of signal.” He stared at the instrumentation before him, then turned his attention to the view screen. “There. On the right. The silvery looking one.”

  Tika frowned at what was virtually a glass city rising in long elegant spires from the surface of the planet. A silver city, an idyllic mecca.

  “Which silver one? There's, like, a dozen.”

  “Third building from the right.” Byron made a slightly gurgled noise followed by several drunken hiccups. A moment later he released a deep belch then sighed. “Much better.” Some of the slur evaporated from his words and his gaze grew more intent. “It's the one with the blue patina on the cone at the top.”

  Identifying his target, she gripped the controls and began to ease them both forward then banked. Riding a sharp angle, she flew between two buildings then righted the Gilly again. The plan called for her to wing in and around the city. Generating as much attention as possible. The chances for sneaking planet side were impossible according to everyone. There were too many sensors, too much attention paid to every single ship departing or arriving. So they did the next best thing, as Byron described it. They were going to be the obnoxious guest at the party.

  “Are you sure they aren’t going to just shoot us down?” Her heart pounded madly.

  “Yesh.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve done this before—just wobble and fly erratically. Trust me.”

  Easier said than done. Despite trusting the captain, she sent up a prayer.

  “Besides, ship has a military grade hull. We can take a hit.”

  The slurring didn’t improve her confidence.

  “Zed, open comms,” she murmured. The AI was on standby, ready to take over the moment Tika demanded it. So far, she hadn't, though. She was able to manipulate the controls, allowing the lift and dive in order to weave them in and out. She had to give the Gilly complete credit—it was responsive. Smooth enough she dared a couple barrel rolls. Poor, Kestral. He still hung suspended in the hold, his weapon armed and ready. As soon as they created nothing but distraction he could lay down suppression fire well the Gilly itself was not armed vessel. Kestral…well—she allowed herself an internal amused chuckle—he was definitely armed.

  “Getting ready for our run. Hang on to something.” She increased thrusters to full throttle and set the trajectory for the main headquarters of the Order of the IV. She hoped so anyway, as they were working from Byron's information.

  Small drones began pacing them as soon as she entered the city. They buzzed around the Gilly like so many gnats. She may have accidentally nudged the stick to pitch the ship into a gentle roll, then doing a hard attitude adjustment to smack one of the drones with the ship’s wings. A little poof of light exploded with the drone at the bottom right hand corner of her view screen. Like skipping stones across the pond. She had to use the right amount of force to cause a reaction, but not so much for such she broke the surface tension. Only in her case it was avoid breaking the surface tension of the Gilly’s hull.

  “They’ve seen us.” Byron's unnecessary announcement pulled her attention back to the building they were approaching. Sure enough, Zed issued warnings onscreen, highlighting the aspects of the building’s defenses. Yes, they had several guns trained on them.

  Okay, she told herself, deep breaths. One thing Shaw had reminded her—

  the adrenaline flooding her at this moment would be helpful. It would increase her reaction time. Make her a better negotiator.

  And if negotiation was done with armed weapons, a lot of teeth, and the balls to charge right into the midst of it, then she had this.

  “Ten seconds.” She surprised herself with the remarkable steadiness of her voice.

  “Collision warning.” Zed's complaint echoed over the loudspeakers. Yeah, she knew all about collisions. She didn't feel the AI wresting the control away from her, so she must be doing something right.

  “I've got a lock on the command tower,” Byron spoke to the comms. “Tika will bank starboard to circle it. It'll be right in your line of fire, Kestral.”

  “Just line it up for me. I'll take it out. Byron…”

  “Yes?”

  “Have a little more shut the fuck up your life please. Go, Tika.”

  She said nothing as she gunned the engines, opening the throttle once more. Fresh power flooded through them as Vega’s microwave engine kicked in, increasing their velocity. She charged straight at the IV building, engines screaming as she pulled up at the last second. The violent climb along the face of the building itself generated a sonic boom, shattering glass and raining it below. Target lock flashed on the screen. The drones were ready to fire.

  Damn, she really hoped Kestral was as good as he said he was.

  * * *

  Kestral

  * * *

  The sudden shifts in attitude and acceleration kept Kestral on his toes. Part of the reason he lashed himself to the ceiling and sides in the hold had been to maintain his position no matter how many times she spun him to starboard then back to port. Sharp dives, then climbs could have tumbled him everywhere in the hold, or worse, right out of it.

  Tika excelled at making noise. She picked up dozens of drones. The devices flanked them, then fell behind at her sudden speed shifts, then raced to catch up again. When she began the dizzying climb against the side of the building, however, the little bastards formed an almost perfect line right behind and below them. Kestral open fire. The sonic boom covered the sound of rapid fire concussive blast.

  It boomed with every squeeze of the trigger. Each blast took as many as four drones per shot. God love his toy and the range it possessed. Increasing the diameter on the shots diminished the range, but with so many lined up for him—it allowed him to take out multiple targets at once.

  The weapon required a recharge every ten uses, the power up taking twenty seconds. So Kestral made his shots count. Bless Tika, she spun away from the building, rolling and giving him the perfect line on the transmission tower. One boom and the metal sheared away then plummeted to the street below.

  Perfection. “Drones clear. Next target, princess, and make it snappy.”

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Kestral sir. Making it snappy.”

  A sharp bark of laughter escaped him as she began accelerating then dove toward street-level creating even more chaos and panic in the streets.

  As much as Byron annoyed him, Kestral had to give the drunkard some credit. He pointed out that when the drunk and obnoxious guest arrived at the party nobody looked anywhere else, no matter how improper. So if they wanted to give Shaw all the time he needed, they had to make all a lot of noise.

  “My darling princess,” Kestral said with a slow smile. “We've got company.”

  A clarion blast came from the vessel, closing in on their position. “Stand down. I repeat, stand down. This is Anselon security. You are in violation of Sancrist airspace. Stand down or be destroyed.”

  “Kestral?” Worry edged Tika’s voice.

  “Keep it up, princess. Shit just got real.”

  She continued to weave through the streets, dodging buildings, climbing and diving, causing maximum damage and hopefully not killing to
o many people. Kestral didn’t care much, but even the worst place had innocents, and Tika wouldn’t handle the knowledge well.

  Sirens blared below. Hopefully the planet’s advances meant their emergency services were prepared. Time to tie all of those up.

  “I repeat, stand down,” the security vessel warned them again as it closed in. As soon as it was within two hundred meters, Kestral set his sites with the cannon, then fired at the same moment Tika jerked them hard to port. It went spinning over the bay and the security vessel crashed into the surf.

  “What's next?” Damn, he lived for stuff like this.

  * * *

  Shaw Sullivan

  * * *

  The sound of Thunder’s hooves striking the sand provided a rhythmic, almost soothing cadence. Shaw followed the coastline a distance before turning inland. All their scans had shown them that the operational nerve center and repository for the so-called Order of the IV was located outside of the city of Sancrist.

  Despite the presence of the gleaming cities on the surface, nature still dominated the landmass of EA-1. Shaw found himself almost admiring there terraform design. Then again several thousand years of butchering the earth had taught them many things from how to recycle to how to build. They weren't having to install sewer systems in all ready standing cities or making do by simply tossing the waste out the windows. No by the time they arrived at EA-1 they had a very good idea how to make the most efficient use of their land space. And despite having hectares upon hectares of open acreage, human beings still tried to build upwards. The taller the building the more powerful the builder it represented.

  It wasn't just the industrialists who had gone to the stars, as much as he might despise some of the way corporations, the naturalists, the philosophers, the students of humanity — they'd all reach for the stars. It made sense that they be present on EA-1. It'd been the first—the first world like their own they'd ever found. The rush to achieve space, to start over fresh, to enjoy the environment not polluted beyond breathing without medications designed to arrest allergies appealed to everyone.