by T. M. Catron
“Noted, Captain, along with automatic gravity controls, a military-grade weapons system, larger lavatories, and an automatic peanut sheller.”
“You just added that last one.”
“No, Captain. Added two months, five days, and three hours ago.”
“That’s not too much to ask for,” Solaris called. His voice sounded muffled in his space suit. Then, Abel gave the okay, and Solaris entered the airlock.
Rance waited impatiently. Soon, they would be visible through the cockpit windows, as the panel they needed was directly under the nose of the ship.
The ship clanged on the outside as their magnetic boots let them walk up the outer hull from the door. Rance imagined the quick catch-and-release from the magnets, the click as they engaged and disengaged, and sighed. She loved spacewalks.
Abel came into view and waved to her from outside. She waved back. He pretended to shove Solaris out away from the ship.
“Hey, knock it off,” Rance ordered.
“You know, Captain,” Solaris said. “I suddenly regret threatening to eat Henry.”
“If Abel chucks you out into space, I’m not coming after you.”
“You heard the boss. Hand me that socket wrench.”
They worked several minutes, with a few clangs echoing inside the ship. For the most part, Rance let them work. Harper directed them from the body camera Solaris wore. Rance watched the work on her handset since the screens in the cockpit didn’t have power.
After thirty minutes of tedious work, they had replaced the wiring and were reattaching the panel.
Then, a clang, and a strangled noise. It was muffled and came out with some indistinct but sharp syllables.
“Abel, you didn’t disconnect Solaris’ oxygen, did you?”
“No, Captain.” Abel’s voice was tight, controlled, like he was holding something in.
Rance couldn’t tell if he was stifling laughter or fear. She must be tired if they both sounded the same. “Abel? Report.”
“Solaris broke a rule,” Abel said.
“Which one?”
“Well, not the ones about companions in quarters or drinking. It was in a different language. But I know what he said.”
“Solaris? What’s going on?”
“Uh, sorry, Captain,” Solaris said finally, “but we have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“We’ve got company.”
CHAPTER THREE
“WHAT IS IT?” Rance repeated.
“Well, I’m not an expert or anything, but it’s metal and flying toward us. Looks like a ship.”
“Harper!” Rance called, ignoring Solaris’ sarcasm.
“Almost got it, Captain. Startup sequence running now. It won’t take as long as last time because we didn’t have a full shut down.”
“Solaris, Abel, get inside.”
“Already on our way.”
Without lights or navigation or sensors, Rance was blind except for what she could see out the windows. She craned her neck, looking out from every angle possible. Then, she stepped on the chair and pushed her nose up to the glass.
Still nothing. The ship must have been approaching from behind.
“What kind of ship is it?” she asked. “Is it heading for us on purpose? What’s its signature?”
Solaris’ voice through Rance’s handset sounded tinny. “To answer your questions—can’t tell, but it’s big, yes, and I don’t know.”
There were three possibilities. It could have been a merchant ship, checking to see why the Star Streaker was drifting in deep space. It could have been a military ship—a Unity patrol. Or pirates.
Out of all the possibilities, pirates were the most logical. This far from nothing, the DEEP was a prime raiding location for pirate clans big and small. Unity patrols rarely patrolled anything but direct trade routes, and merchant ships and cruisers, afraid of a trap, wouldn’t risk stopping for a foundering ship.
They needed to prepare. Rance waited anxiously for word that Abel and Solaris were inside. She didn’t dare leave the cockpit, but she peeked down the ladder, listening for sounds of the airlock opening and closing. Not being able to see the ship approaching sent spikes of fear through her. Whoever they were, they hadn’t hailed them, but they’d had plenty of time.
“Harper, ready?” Rance asked impatiently.
“Push the button, Captain.”
“Solaris?”
“We’re inside, Captain.” From the sound of it, they had stripped out of their suits and were pounding up the stairs.
Rance hopped down off the chair, the pain in her toe registering only a little. She pushed the initiate button. The lights turned on in the cockpit, then down the corridor below. Instrument panels lit up, the comm dashboard to Rance’s left switched on, and a moment later she was bringing up the radar screens that showed the unknown ship rapidly approaching.
Solaris and James appeared a moment later, taking their seats and running scans.
“How long until we can jump?” Rance asked the room.
“Five minutes. Still booting up.”
“Tally? What’s it looking like down there?”
“Perfect, although I’d be careful not to put too much stress on that hyperdrive coil, just as a precaution. We’re all strapped in down here, Captain.”
“James, I want a jump to hyperspace as soon as the drive registers ready. In the meantime, shields up.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Solaris was watching the red blip on the screen. “They’re approaching alarmingly fast, Captain. I think they suspect we’re about to jump. We’re out of time.”
“Alternatives?”
Solaris shook his head. “They have guns. Big EMP cannons and hull-piercing blasters. Military-grade. Oh, and a gun turret.”
“Pirates.”
“Nope. The flying pattern suggests Unity. Doesn’t look like private security, either.”
Rance didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified. Pirates were bad. But Unity could detain them without much reason, and that would present a whole other problem to the fugitives onboard. Namely, herself and Solaris. “What’s Unity doing all the way out here?”
“I wondered that too. Harper,” Solaris called. “Did you disguise the Streaker’s registration before we left Ares?”
“Of course, sir. Sending up our new name right now.”
Suddenly, the ship-to-ship comm went live, and a man’s voice rang out over the ship-wide speakers. “Star cruiser, this is Unity Alpha Class X3458, designation Malta. State your condition and destination.”
Rance punched a button on the comm and read the name Harper sent up to her. “Hello, Malta. This is the Stanley Alto. We’re on our way to pick up cargo on Noko before heading to Prometheus.”
Solaris exchanged glances with Rance and mouthed, Stanley Alto?
She shrugged. Any other time, it would have been funny. Right now, a knot was growing in her stomach like some twisted vagrappe had taken root there.
“I’m Lieutenant Arnold,” the other man said. “Nice ship. You’re a bit small to be running cargo, aren’t you?”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. I’m Captain Cooper. We are a private ferry. Our cargo is human. Usually paid transport.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, sir. Sending you our registration.”
Solaris sent it to the Malta, and Rance fidgeted, braiding her hair and unbraiding it. They’d never tested their new registration codes against the Unity database. She hoped it worked better than Deliverance had.
The cockpit felt suddenly warm as if the ventilation system had failed. Rance checked it, but it was fine. She was only sweating out of nervousness, nothing else.
“Had some trouble?” Arnold asked.
“We had a hyperdrive malfunction. But we’re up and running now. We’ll be on our way if you don’t object.”
“Stand by, Stanley.”
“What do they want?” James asked nervously.
Rance glanced at
Solaris, who remained calm and stoic. While she’d been busy watching the screens, he’d changed his face to sharp features and dark hair. His fun-loving persona had disappeared, replaced by a grim countenance.
“Wish I could change my face right now,” she whispered.
“I can change yours for you,” he said, smiling to ease the tension.
“You can?”
“Sure. What would you like to look like?”
The Lieutenant returned. “Stanley Alto, you are required to submit to a random inspection. Lower your shields and prepare for boarding.”
“Ah, Malta, you’re welcome, of course, but I have a group of passengers waiting for us on Noko. If we don’t pick them up, someone else will. I’ll lose business.”
“Not my problem, Captain Cooper. Lower your shields.”
“What do you want to do?” James asked. “I could make the jump. They don’t have tractor beams on those Alpha Classes.”
“I don’t recommend it, Captain,” Solaris said. “Remember when I told you Unity had ships that could follow you into hyperspace?”
“Yes?”
Solaris nodded to the red blip on his screen. It was slowing now, in anticipation of boarding them. “That’s one of them.”
“Of all the luck,” Rance breathed harshly. “Triton’s hairy backside, sometimes I hate Unity.”
“That makes two of us.”
Rance spoke to the crew at large. “Alright, prepare for inspection. You all know what to do. James, make sure they don’t punch a hole in the cargo bay doors. Make sure they use the airlock.”
There was a faint scramble as the crew left their places. Solaris looked confused. But then, he’d never been on the receiving end of an inspection before. Rance had.
“We have a few protocols for this sort of thing,” she explained. “First, we do a quick sweep to make sure there’s no offensive cargo in plain sight. This is easy because right now we have none.”
Rance stood and walked over to the ladder. At least her toe looked better. The meds were kicking in. But she was still going to have to force it into a pair of boots.
Solaris followed her down the ladder and through the top level.
“Second,” she said when she reached her own quarters, “we pretend to be the most law-abiding citizens in the empire.”
“Now I know you’re insane,” he said. “There is such a thing as looking too perfect.”
Rance entered her cabin and grabbed her boots—not the magnetic ones. She eased her foot into the first one. When it didn’t hurt, she hurriedly put on the second. “These guys tend to get bored and restless. Not much action out here in the DEEP unless they get lucky and find pirates. They’re just itching to arrest somebody and haul them to the nearest Triton-controlled planet or waystation. So, we don’t give them any reason.”
“Sounds like you’ve already done this a few times.”
Rance shot Solaris a look as she eased back out the door.
“Captain? How many times?”
“Once.”
Surprised, Solaris stopped in his tracks. “Really? You’re basing your plan of action on one incident?”
“It’s not the worst plan. What else should we do? Rush to tell them about all the illegal operations we’ve completed? Give up the names of all the contacts we’ve made this side of the Nilurian Belt? Or maybe tell them your real name, or mine for that matter.”
“I was merely suggesting you have a bit better cover.”
“We don’t need it. We’re nobodies. And I try to keep it that way, Roote. Now, are you ready?”
Solaris looked torn, like he had something on his mind but didn’t want to say it.
“What?” she asked as they descended the stairs.
He shook his head.
“Stanley Alto,” the officer said, “make sure all crew is present and accounted for when we arrive.”
Rance pressed a button on her handset. “Ready and waiting, Lieutenant. I ought to warn you—only one of you can fit through at a time. Sorry about that. It’s on the list of upgrades I’d like to make.”
The comm was silent.
“You’ve scared them, boss,” Abel said seriously. “They don’t want to walk into an ambush. Using that airlock, we could pick them off one by one if we wanted to.”
“If that were the plan, Abel, I wouldn’t have told them about the airlock.”
“Unless they suspected you were lying to make them let their guards down,” James said.
Tally shook his head in rebuke.
“What?” James asked. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”
The airlock hissed open, and an armored soldier entered the inner chamber and waited for it to close. He watched them through the tiny porthole, his face obscured by his lowered visor.
“Don’t try anything funny, Stanley,” the lieutenant said over the comm.
James snorted.
“Our guys are going to signal when they’re over safely. If they don’t, we’re going to blast your ship all the way to the Belt.”
“That’s all?” Rance asked.
Tally glared at her cheekiness. James smirked. Solaris looked worried, as did Harper. Only Abel remained neutral-looking like an inspection was all part of a days’ work. Few things ever bothered him. He’d been more upset about Solaris’ joke about eating Henry.
Rance tried to follow suit and stay calm, but couldn’t help feeling irritated at Unity’s intrusion. After their delays, all she wanted to do was reach Prometheus without anything else going wrong.
The first soldier stood inside the tiny airlock, waiting for the pressure to equalize. With his armor, he barely fit.
This inspection wouldn’t take long. The Star Streaker was a small ship. The few secret panels under the hold and in engineering were accessible only by a secret passcode tapped in the exact right location. Even if the Unity soldiers could open the hatches, they didn’t have anything inside them on this trip. Rance only had to hold her tongue for a few minutes. And stay calm.
But facing down Unity was different from facing down pirates. She considered both and decided she’d rather go with pirates. At least pirates couldn’t take her back to her father.
“Harper, what’d you do with that problem drive?” Rance whispered, referring to the Caducean Drive that held Deliverance.
“Stowed carefully where no one will find her, Captain.”
Rance nodded in relief. If Harper hid it, even Rance might not be able to find it unless she took the ship apart. She trusted her crew completely. They joked and quarreled like siblings, but in the end, they were her family. And she trusted each one of them with her life.
The airlock really needed an upgrade. Rance had been staring at that helmeted soldier for two whole minutes.
Finally, the light over the door turned green, and the soldier squeezed through. He stood tall in his black armor, as tall as Rance. The standard-issue armor carried Unity’s insignia on the breastplate—a trident, a hammer, and a sparrow. The three emblems of the separate armies that had formed the original military force of Triton.
In the beginning, the Empire Triton had been an alliance only. Now, the separate ruling entities had melded into one big conglomerate under one command—the Emperor Supreme. He controlled Unity, the largest single military force in the history of mankind.
The door hissed closed, and the soldier looked around at the crew. They stood as non-threateningly as they could, with their hands relaxed at their sides.
He fixed his gaze on Solaris.
Did he recognize him somehow? Or was he just surprised at his height? Solaris always looked too big, even in the hold where the ceiling was taller.
The black soldier studied him a minute, then swept his eyes across to Rance. He paused. Rance’s heart beat faster. She tried to calm down, knowing he was probably reading her vital signs with the sensors in his helmet. But her body was rebelling. Her hand wanted to fidget. She forced it to remain still.
No one said anything, and
the drawn-out silence became awkward.
To take her mind off the soldier’s scrutiny, Rance focused on using her ZOD to study his armor. It was good—even the patrols out in the DEEP got regular upgrades. Strong, nearly seamless joints, weapons attachments on every appendage, even the gauntlet, which looked like it could extend claw-like razor blades from each finger.
Ignoring the battle-ready armor and the other soldier waiting in the airlock, Rance swallowed her anxiety and stepped forward.
“Inspection’s over,” she said, adopting her most commanding tone. “At least of my crew. You are welcome to look around the ship, but we are on a tight schedule.”
“Are you the captain?” the soldier asked.
“I’m Captain Cooper,” she said. “This is my ship. You’ll find the registration is in order. Will any more of you be joining us?”
The next soldier came through the inner door of the airlock and closed it behind him. Then, he turned to the crew. His darkened visor turned straight to Rance. Since she couldn’t see his face, it made his silence worse. Not being able to read the soldiers’ facial expressions was putting her at a disadvantage.
The second soldier stepped forward, stopped, and faced Rance. Then, he tilted his head a degree to the side, as if in surprise.
“Devri?” he asked.
Rance’s blood ran cold, and a shiver traveled down her spine. How did that soldier know her real name? After all, she didn’t look much like Devri anymore. Only someone who’d known her well would even recognize her. Why, why hadn’t she taken Solaris up on his offer to change her face too?
In a split-second decision, Rance decided the best course of action was to play dumb.
“Who?” she asked.
The soldier flipped a latch on his helmet and pulled it off his head. His short, dark hair was slicked back, his features brown, like someone who was a native of Xanthes. Rance’s heart sank to her knees. Playing dumb wouldn’t work with this one.
“Hello, Devri,” he said. “You have to remember me.”
Rance sighed. “Hello, Turkey.”
Beside her, James raised an eyebrow. Rance ignored him.
Turkey smiled. “So you do remember. How long has it been?”
