by T. M. Catron
“Twenty-six. I would try to guess your age, but your ability to change your face doesn’t make that fair. You could be eighty and I wouldn’t know it.”
Solaris grinned. “I’m not eighty.”
“You act like it sometimes.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Twenty-eight.”
“Hmm…” Rance said, “I’m not sure I believe you.”
“Maybe I have an old soul,” he said.
Rance moved to sit on the other end of the table, her leg propped up like Solaris’ until their toes almost touched. She smiled. “Tell me more about how wonderful the crew is.”
“Your crew is—”
“Bullheaded? Immature? Silly?”
“I was going to say: you aren’t fooling me. James kids around, but he’s one of the savviest pilots I’ve ever met. And what’s Tally’s story?”
“Tally is an old friend.”
“Hmm,” Solaris said, noting the misdirection. “What about Abel and Harper?”
“Both are from Triton. Abel came onboard about a year ago. He worked private security there and made a natural addition to our crew. Harper is a genius-level troublemaker. At least, she claims to have been a troublemaker before I hired her, but I’ve never seen any hint of it from her. Don’t let her tiny appearance fool you.”
Solaris nodded as she spoke, taking it all in. “And you, Captain? What about you?”
“You know the basics. Not much else to tell.”
Solaris tilted his head slightly, a look of disbelief on his face. “I doubt that.”
Rance shrugged him off. “With me, what you see is what you get.”
“Unlike me?”
Rance grinned. “Maybe. We’ll see.”
During the rest of the trip, Solaris made an effort to get to know the crew. By the last day, Abel had stopped staring at Solaris as if he were a cold-blooded killer. Tally and James had warmed enough to stop muttering about him. Harper already treated Solaris like one of the crew, chatting openly with him like they were old friends.
Rance had to hand it to Solaris: he had a way with people. Galaxy Wizards must have learned how to put others at ease. Either that, or Solaris really was that polite.
Since Unity would still be on Solaris’ trail, they had to make plans to hide once on Ares. Solaris insisted they weren’t being followed through hyperspace. Rance insisted that they purchase a new registration for the Streaker as soon as they landed. She had saved enough money for upgrades, and this one was the most pressing.
So they formed a plan and waited for the end of the trip.
Chapter Nine
The Star Streaker flew over the bright waters of the Lantes River on Ares. The gigantic river wasn’t a river at all, but a sea flowing between the poles of the planet. Its current was strong, its waters deep. Countless smaller rivers and streams fed into it like branches on a tree, providing life and sustenance to the peaceful villages dotting the landscape.
Barges thirty times the size of the Streaker moved up and down the river. Smaller, more nimble sailing vessels dodged in and around the barges, fishing with old-fashioned nets and hooks. It was the only way to catch lantess, Ares’ prized fish. At least, that was the story the local fishermen told. Mostly, it was tradition.
On either side of the Lantes, green fields dotted with yellow flowers stretched for thousands of kilometers. Small villages sprang up out of the dirt, their huts creating a simple, quaint backdrop for the technologically advanced cities.
The cities were spread few and far between across the planet. The Star Streaker headed for a small one on the riverbank without large towers dominating its skyline. Instead, sand and plaster buildings gave the town a warm and inviting Old Earth feel.
Before landing, James swooped around to examine the spaceport. Rance sat hunched over a screen, inspecting the area and the ships in it. The planet’s gravity had kicked in, and when James rolled the ship, Rance pitched to the right. Her braided brown hair hung down toward Solaris sitting in the chair across from hers. She watched the screen in front of her like their lives depended on it.
They sort of did.
James flew in a big circle, forcing them back into their seats and breaking Rance’s concentration. She couldn’t blame him for doing somersaults. After a week in hyperspace, the crew had been nervous about landing on Ares. If the Empire was lying in wait, they would have to jump again, and then maybe again, and again. Rance feared they would spend the rest of their lives in hyperspace, running from Unity. But they hadn’t seen any Unity Dark Fighters or stealth ships since they arrived.
“No sign of any Unity ships, Captain,” James said in confirmation.
Rance breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the Founders.”
“I don’t think the Founders had anything to do with it, Captain,” Solaris said dryly.
“Right,” Rance said, “it’s because of my awesome captain’s abilities.”
“How eloquent,” Solaris said, snorting. “More like growing up in the Outer Colonies taught you a few things about self-preservation. And, oh yeah, your pilot deserves some of the credit.”
“I like to think I deserve a lot of the credit,” James said. All Rance saw of him was his back—and then an excited fist pump. “Do you remember the way I flew on Doxor 5?” he said. “Pure genius.”
“Pure dumb luck,” Tally called over the comm.
Solaris ignored James and turned his seat toward Rance. He jerked his thumb in James’ direction but kept his eyes on the captain. “Where did he learn to fly like that?”
“My father was a ship-builder on Xanthes,” James said, determined to keep everyone’s attention, “but when I was thirteen, he arranged for me to fly the transports off-planet and load up with the larger ships heading for Triton.”
“I’m sure your captain appreciated you flying his transport upside down.”
“Nope, he fired me the first time I did it,” James said, grinning. “Then I got another job on another transport.”
“And that one?”
“Lasted two months. For some reason, the ship’s owners didn’t approve of me learning to evade possible attackers.”
“Were you attacked?” Solaris asked, looking amused. He winked at Rance, clearly enjoying himself at James’ expense.
Since James couldn’t see out the back of his head, he continued talking like nothing was going on behind him. “No, I was practicing in case pirates tried to attack us.”
With a click, Tally chimed in again. “Why don’t you stop bragging long enough to land the ship, James Fletcher!”
“I can land this ship with my eyes closed!”
“Don’t you dare!”
“When I found James five years ago,” Rance interjected, “he had been on ten ships in six months. Put us down here, James.”
Solaris shook his head. “How did you end up hiring someone who’d had so many jobs?”
“I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t already seen him fly.”
James maneuvered them over an empty landing pad. “Nah, it was my dashing good looks—or didn’t she tell you?”
Solaris shot Rance a look of confusion. “Oh, sorry. You two… I didn’t realize…”
James guffawed, laughing so hard he doubled over his console. Rance chortled. James was handsome—in a schoolboy, next-door-neighbor kind of way—but she had always thought of him as the brother she’d never had.
“No,” she said through her snickering, “James already has too many girlfriends.”
“He’s not your type?”
“Afraid not—no offense, James,” Rance said, borrowing one of Solaris’ phrases. She looked over at Solaris, expecting him to make another joke. Instead, she caught him looking at her. What was that on his face? Relief?
She didn’t know how to react under Solaris’ direct gaze and busied herself with making sure her braid was tidy. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Solaris suddenly become interested in the buttons on a panel near his elbow.
“S
peaking of girlfriends,” James said, derailing Rance’s train of thought, “mine will be waiting for me.”
He smoothed down his wavy auburn hair, then ran his fingers through it to fluff it back up. Rance looked at Solaris again and rolled her eyes.
“Do we get to meet her?” Abel asked over the comm. As usual, the rest of the crew had been listening to the banter in the cockpit. Abel and Harper called it “in-flight entertainment.” Tally called it foolishness.
The Star Streaker had set down in the small port outside the city. Brown, sand-colored buildings reminded Rance of archival pictures she had seen of warm countries on Old Earth.
From the landing pad, soft green and yellow fields stretched like a bright, fluffy blanket all the way to the river, which sparkled in the bright sunshine. At the edge of the city, a towering stone statue of a lantess—a fish with long fangs, four fins, and a long tail—stood out against the backdrop of yellow sky like it was taking a bite out of the sun.
“What’s the plan, Captain?” Solaris asked, turning his attention to the landscape outside the window.
“First, we need to find out if our pictures are plastered all over every wanted bulletin in the galaxy. Then we’ll get a new registration for the Star Streaker.”
“The ones that look real cost almost as much as a ship,” Solaris pointed out. “And the people who sell them aren’t easy to deal with.”
Rance pretended to be shocked. “Why, Solaris, how do you know what it takes to get a fake registration?”
“It was part of my job. Don’t you remember that the Galaxy Wizards are the most elite crime-fighting unit in the galaxy?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t think they handled small things like false registrations. I thought the Wizards were more big picture kind of guys.”
“Well, technically they are. But when you spend your life chasing pirates and other various ne’er-do-wells across the galaxy, you learn to spot the tricks they use. As soon as Unity finds someone with a false registration, it assumes you’re a pirate.”
He looked pointedly at Rance.
Rance laughed. “‘Other various ne’er-do-wells?’”
“Criminals.”
“Yeah, I know what it means,” she said, fighting to stifle her laughter. “How’d you make it to twenty-eight years old using words like ‘ne’er-do-well?’”
Solaris shook his head. “Doesn’t matter what they’re called, does it?”
“Yeah, but Solaris, did you ever call a pirate that to his face? Please tell me you did—I bet his reaction was priceless!”
James burst out laughing and swiveled around in his chair. Rance joined in, and they enjoyed a moment of rowdy laughter at Solaris’ expense.
The CO was unfazed. “Laugh all you want, but I’ve put more pirates in prison than anybody. And you can’t be too careful, Captain. The Wizards have been putting extreme pressure on anyone who has contact with pirates. They’ve received a lot of pressure from Triton to eradicate the pirate colonies.”
Rance sniffed and wiped tears of mirth from her eyes. “That will never happen. And I don’t look like a pirate. If I’m ever captured, all you have to do is tell them I’m running from my father. That’s all the cover story I need.”
“You hope.”
Rance swiveled around to face him and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “If you’d like to offer more insight, Solaris, I’m willing to listen. As long as you don’t use more words like ‘ne’er-do-well.’”
James still snickered, but turned back to shut down the engines. The Streaker made a deep, rumbling sound, then spun down into quiet.
“No promises, Captain,” Solaris said.
“And,” Rance added, “you should be grateful we have a false registration that can be changed. Because if we didn’t, Unity would have found us a long time ago and we wouldn’t be here to hide you.”
“Right.” Solaris swiveled his seat around to face her again. “You want advice? Keep using a fake registration—that’s a given. But let me check out the new one before we install it into the ship. I know a few tricks that would ensure we don’t inadvertently put a tracking device alongside it. Oh, and I know someone who can help. That is, if you’re willing to let me take you to them.”
Rance was surprised by the offer. “I’ll be happy to let you look at it, Solaris. But on this ship, Harper is our science officer, and she’s a genius at installing fake registrations and avoiding tracking systems. So you can work with her, and we’ll see how much you know.”
Solaris smiled and climbed out of his chair. “All right. We’ll see how good Harper really is.”
He tried to stretch but had to duck to avoid hitting the ceiling.
The port had a group of mismatched buildings that served as station offices. Since James’ face was unknown and not on a most-wanted list—“maybe a Wanted list, Captain, but not a Most Wanted list”—he hunted down some of the station workers and made inquiries.
The search for Solaris was still on, of course. Unity and the Wizards would never stop looking for him. All his fake faces were plastered on warning bulletins scrolling across screens throughout the galaxy. None of them had found his current face—sandy hair, a few freckles, strong features. If they ever did, he would change it again.
To her relief, Rance’s face had been kept out of everything. Although she had been spotted with Solaris, no one had gotten a good enough look at her to figure out who she was. Rance wondered why. That drone on Doxor 5 would have had ample opportunity to take her picture.
But the only worrisome picture was the one of the Star Streaker on top of that building on Doxor 5. Anyone who saw the ship would recognize it right away, like a tree in a desert. The crew couldn’t do much about it—Rance refused to trade her “baby,” or alter it in any way.
They landed on their original plan: get a new, false registration for the Star Streaker. By changing registration, they’d have a better shot of flying unnoticed. Because of the vast distances of space, potential patrols would receive the registration and signature long before they saw the ship.
In the Outer Colonies, citizens paid little attention to the wanted bulletins. First, there were too many wanted faces and names to keep track of. Second, they knew a few of the faces and didn’t want to be labeled snitches. Third, the pictures of the Star Streaker had been drowned in a sea of other pictures of wanted ships throughout the galaxy.
“All we have to do is find someone willing to sell another registration,” Rance said. “Although I’m surprised Unity didn’t let the Star Streaker take precedence since you are inside it.”
Solaris gazed around at the maze of offices next to the landing pad like he was looking for something in particular. Before Rance could ask him, he said, “They think I escaped on another ship. I don’t know if anyone is aware that I am powerful enough to change the appearance of something as large as the Star Streaker. Also, Unity long ago lost control of all their interests. The Empire is just too big, even to hunt down someone like me.”
“You’re so modest.”
“I try. Anyway, I’ve already made inquiries about that registration,” Solaris said, looking pleased. “And I think I found just the place. We’ve had a stroke of luck.”
Rance narrowed her eyes at him. “That was fast. When did you find the time?”
“I know a few people and contacted them while James was in the office.”
“Here in this city?”
“Yes, here in this city,” Solaris said in a mocking tone. “You’re not the only person with contacts.”
Rance started back for the ship, but Solaris grabbed her arm and steered her in the opposite direction. “Nope. This way.” He released her and walked around the buildings.
Rance followed, her boots crunching over trash and debris blown about by the wind. “I don’t know about this,” she said. “I’ve been successful in the past. And no offense, but how do you know these guys are any good?”
“Because he’s a her, and I helped ca
tch her once,” Solaris said. “The only reason she’s not rotting in prison is because of me—sort of.”
Rance was impressed. “I sense a story.”
“I think it’ll have to wait, Captain. They’re waiting for us.”
“Alright, we’ll try it. But I reserve the right to nix the operation if I don’t feel comfortable with it.”
Solaris nodded, and they walked behind the disconnected buildings that made up the port office. The alleyways here were dark and narrow, populated with rotting wooden doors and weary-looking stalls. The vendors they passed looked hopeful, thinking they were buyers. One look at the rotten food and one whiff of the sickly sweet stench accompanying it told Rance they didn’t need to buy anything here.
“Why isn’t my face all over the news?” she asked abruptly. It had been bothering her ever since James had reported to her.
Solaris smiled. “Jealous?”
“Heh. No. But that drone followed me several city blocks. Where are the pictures?”
“You told me you stunned it. Maybe it’s data drive was damaged.”
“Unlikely. Those are usually hardened to prevent such things from happening. Otherwise, any ne’er-do-well could stun a drone whenever he was caught on camera and get away with it.”
“I bet the Doxor Planetary Squad didn’t turn the pictures over. It was their drone, and you embarrassed them by escaping from their clutches.”
It was the only idea that made sense. Rance supposed she had embarrassed those mercs.
Solaris shook his head. “A lone woman against six mercs. Their defeat is downright humiliating.”
Rance smirked. “Surprised?”
Solaris grinned. “Not anymore.”
Rance was more than a little curious about these people Solaris knew, and her excitement increased the further they walked. Using her implant, she logged into the city’s network and requested a map. A grid popped up in her vision, showing her the various outlets from the alley to the main streets.
If they were forced to run—because that happened from time to time—she wanted a way out.
Rance was curious about Solaris’ abilities. She knew so little about him. Still, he was her CO, and what better way to find out what he was capable of than to give him some breathing room? She watched him out of the corner of her eye. The alley slid by in a blur, and she forgot to note their whereabouts. Solaris navigated the turns without trouble, striding down the alley as if he had been born in it.
