by T. M. Catron
Rance snorted and pushed him away. “It’s none of mine, either, but you were so curious about it earlier you were going to open the box on your own.”
“True. But I have reformed. You know the saying: curiosity killed the cappatter.”
“Well, I’ll be glad when we get this thing off the ship in a few hours. I’ve never been so eager to get rid of cargo in my life.”
Chapter Twelve
Rance got a few hours of restless sleep, then rose minutes before they exited hyperspace. She walked out of her quarters with bleary eyes and ruffled hair. Her stomach rumbled because she had forgotten to eat anything. In short, she wasn’t in the best mood.
And she couldn’t stop thinking about that Caduceus Drive. What she would do if she kept it. What it would be like to have an AI onboard.
The idea was fantasy only. With their drop-off about to be complete, they had to look to the near future for other jobs. When they got back to Ares, they would need to tighten the belt, so to speak, until Rance could drum up paying business—safer business. And there was still that problem of Unity and the Galaxy Wizards looking for them.
“Oh, hi Captain,” Harper said, coming up the stairs. “I was just coming to get you.”
“I’m up, thanks.”
Harper followed Rance up to the cockpit. The captain checked everything, something James would have done if he were there. For a moment, Rance doubted herself and her ability to fly them out of trouble if needed. But she couldn’t back out now—they’d have to see it through.
“Harper,” Rance said as she crawled into the pilot’s chair, “you’re from Triton, right?”
“One of its moons—Alles.”
“Have you ever seen a Caduceus Drive?”
“Once, during the only year I spent at the university. The winged staff and two snakes is an ancient symbol. It was the sign of the Greek god Hermes, the messenger of the gods and the protector of merchants and thieves.”
“Merchants and thieves? Well, it’s in the right place.”
Harper had dropped out of the university because she was too advanced for her professors, although Rance could never figure out why the genius wanted to stay on board the Streaker. Since Harper had never volunteered the information, Rance had never asked.
The captain spent the next few minutes convincing herself the whole situation was the result of a random robbery. The drive was worth a lot of money. Anyone who got their hands on a Caduceus Drive would be foolish not to sell it to the highest bidder. Kaau li would make a lot of credits on the transaction.
Essentially, the crew of the Star Streaker had paid Kaau li for the privilege of transporting it.
Irritated, Rance cracked her knuckles. The smuggler was smart. She’d probably laughed them all the way to the Streaker while they carried the heavy metal box on her errand.
It didn’t add up, though. Kaau li had taken a big chance letting a stranger move it for her. Rance shrugged off the uneasy feeling in her gut. In an hour, they’d be rid of it, and she wouldn’t need to worry about it anymore. Solaris was right: it wasn’t any of her business. Making it her business would get them into trouble. Was that why he had done an about-face on the matter?
The console in front of her beeped, and the Streaker exited hyperspace in a flash of blue. A large, gray planet took up the window’s entire view. Coru was a barren rock, but it was well-known for its ship-building. The location wasn’t surprising, considering the cargo they were carrying.
The crew strapped in, and Rance asked for permission to enter Coru’s airspace. She broke into a sweat just thinking about what would happen if Coru didn’t clear them to land. But they got permission without trouble.
“You’re lucky that worked out, Solaris,” Rance called over her shoulder. It felt weird that he was behind—instead of beside—her. She was used to seeing his face when they flew, even if it was fake.
The way Solaris refused to show the crew his real face still annoyed her. Still, now wasn’t the time to air petty grievances. Things were about to get hairy.
Rance guided the ship down to a barren space port—Station 10—atop a bleak, gray plateau. Around them, windswept rock stretched as far as they could see, jagged peaks cutting the horizon like crooked fangs.
It reminded Rance of another planet, Colony 25, far away. She’d buried her first CO, Terryn, there.
No, nothing bad would happen to any of them here. They would find Kai lu, drop off the cargo, and leave. Simple.
“You look worried, Captain,” Solaris said.
“Not as worried as you’re going to look if this doesn’t work out.” Rance knew the comeback was lame, but she had nothing better at the moment.
A small, four-winged Class B military ship sat at the edge of the landing pad with half the hull open and a crew of technicians moving about it like ants on a dead beetle. It wasn’t a working Unity ship, but one of millions of private security starships. Rance’s father owned a couple himself.
When Rance and Solaris exited the Star Streaker with the closed box hanging between them, a furious burst of icy wind almost pushed them back inside. It howled and whipped them around until Rance’s eyes watered. She wondered how anyone worked in this at all.
Wishing she’d grabbed her helmet, Rance leaned into the wind and looked for the port office. A long, low building sat next to a reinforced hangar. Since the buildings were the same color as the gray rock, they had been invisible at first glance. The pair made their way across the otherwise barren shipyard, the roar of the wind drowning out the sounds of their boots scraping across rock.
Rance’s arm already ached from their first trip with the box twelve hours earlier. This time, her fingers and hand turned numb before they got to the office. She tried to call up a map on her NNR, but nothing was publicly broadcast. Unfortunate, but not unexpected on an outpost that repaired sensitive military ships.
“Kaau li said it was behind the office!” Solaris shouted over the wind.
Rance nodded, her teeth already chattering so violently that speaking would be difficult. They passed by the office. No one stopped them. Around the back, a narrow service road branched off, with one path leading to the hangar and another going around behind.
“I guess it’s back there!” she shouted, pointing with her free hand. The more they walked, the more her unease grew. If something went wrong, no one was around to hear a cry for help. Despite her misgivings, the pain in her arm spurred her on, and a few minutes later they stood in front of a reinforced metal door. The gray building was pitted and cracked, a result of the violent wind gusts that threatened to blow Rance over.
She raised her frozen hand to rap on the door. Solaris grabbed it before she made a sound. Startled, she looked over at him.
“You hear that?” he mouthed.
Rance listened hard. All she heard was the whistle of the wind in her ears. She shook her head.
Solaris walked around the corner, looking for a window. Since Rance held the other end of the box, he dragged her along with him. On the far side, the wind abruptly stopped, allowing her ears to stop ringing and to listen more intently.
A row of thick windows ran down the far side of the building, which looked less worn than the other side. Rance peered through the grime of the first window, resisting the urge to wipe a clean spot with her sleeve. There, through the murk, a group of five armored men faced the back of the building—mercenaries. Not the uniformed, unarmed mercs from Doxor 5, but the kind of mercs that took any job as long as it paid. The ones that were one step away from being pirates.
Facing the mercs were four men on their knees with hands bound behind their backs.
Rance and Solaris pulled back out of sight.
“What’s going on?” she mouthed.
He shook his head, and they both leaned forward again, peeking through the window from the sides.
Another man Rance hadn’t noticed earlier yelled and waved an assault rifle around. He didn’t seem to care who he shouted at�
�the armored soldiers or the captives. His angry tone carried through the thick windows like a muffled roar.
Whatever he said caused the captives’ eyes to widen in fear. One struggled against his bonds but couldn’t speak through the gag over his mouth. The commander walked to the struggler—a man with dark hair and olive skin—and pointed the rifle at his head. He stopped struggling, clearly too frightened to resist.
This was Kai lu—Kaau li’s brother. The resemblance to the woman smuggler was too striking to ignore. Rance thought she would be sick. She leaned away from the window in revulsion, staring out over the barren landscape of rock. On the other side of the hangar, the mechanics worked on the other ship, oblivious to the horror going on nearby.
Solaris watched another moment. They were lucky, Rance thought, grateful he’d stopped her from pounding on the door. She looked down at the box they still held. She resented it for the world it represented, one in which people threatened and terrified others for power and politics.
Drop it and run.
Something didn’t add up. Without a doubt, the armored mercs were looking for this box.
Maybe she and Solaris could use it to bargain for Kai lu’s life. If they didn’t intervene, the mercs would kill him. Rance didn’t need to hear what they were saying to figure that out. She looked at Solaris, a question on her lips.
Then a brief light burst through the window. A half-second later, the muffled sound of a rifle cut through the air, the vibration thumping in Rance’s chest. Solaris ducked out of the way. For a moment, her heart jumped into her throat. Had they been spotted? Were the mercs firing at them?
But the mercs didn’t fire any more shots. Solaris shook his head. Rance dared another glance inside.
Kai lu’s body lay crumpled on the floor. The commander stepped over it to the next man, who was shaking so hard with fear another soldier grabbed his shoulder to steady him.
Rance had seen enough. She turned away in disgust and anger, just as another flash of light preceded the vibration thumping in her chest. She tugged on the box, and Solaris ducked under the window as they hurried back for the hangar.
As soon as they came around the side of the building, the roar of the wind hit them full force. This time, Rance thanked the Founders for it: she wouldn’t have to hear any more gunshots.
The box weighed them down. Rance worked harder, not understanding why she still held it, but feeling like it was important. Solaris must have felt the same because he didn’t suggest they drop it as they made their way around the side of the hangar.
If the soldiers exited the building, the pair wouldn’t hear them before the mercs shot them in the back. With this thought, Rance broke into the fastest run she could manage. The path around the hangar seemed much longer than it had a few minutes ago. They ran over small stones and scree, sending them flying. The wind picked them up and swirled around their feet like miniature sandstorms.
Once, Rance lost her footing. For one heart-stopping second, she scrabbled to gain her balance. Then she got her feet under her again, and they continued. Although the roar of the wind prevented her from hearing anything, she still listened for boots following.
Finally, they rounded the side of the hangar. As she turned the corner, Rance looked behind them. Her heart, already beating out of her chest, stopped altogether. Five dark, armored mercs were running up the path.
They had about ten seconds before the hangar no longer protected them. She linked up to the Star Streaker, sending the signal for Tally to begin takeoff procedures. The open bay doors were painfully far away. They sprinted toward the ship.
“We can drop the box,” she panted.
Seven seconds.
“Yep,” Solaris said, equally out of breath.
Three seconds.
Neither of them let go of the box. Almost there. A few more steps.
Two seconds.
They launched themselves into the Streaker as two bursts of light flew past Rance’s head and hit the wall of the cargo bay in a shower of sparks.
Abel, who was strapped into his crash chair nearby, yelled a warning.
Rance dropped the box and flattened herself to the floor. Solaris landed beside her, dodging another glowing round. The door hummed shut as more blaster-fire pinged off the hull. Furious, Rance crawled on her stomach to the stairway.
“Hey!” Rance yelled. “Stop firing on my ship!”
“Shields engaged, Captain,” Tally called over the comm.
The Star Streaker took off, and Solaris and Abel hauled Rance to her feet.
“All in, Captain?” Tally asked.
“Okay, Tally. Let’s get out of here,” Rance said, panting. The door sealed shut with a hiss.
Once again, they strapped the box to the wall, and then Rance ran upstairs. When she reached the cockpit, everything was running smoothly. They were already in space with the planet behind.
“Any ships follow us?” she asked.
“No, Captain,” Tally said. He sat in the pilot’s seat. Harper sat in the captain’s chair. When she saw Rance, she blushed and moved to unfasten her harness.
“No, you’re okay,” Rance said.
“I thought we might need to jump, Captain.”
“We do. Prepare the coordinates, Harper.”
Tally pressed buttons. “You want to initiate the jump, Captain?”
“Yes.”
Tally had just reached for his harness release when Solaris yelled, “Incoming!”
Rance looked over at his screen in time to see a red streak shoot out from another ship that hadn’t been there a moment before. As if in slow motion, it shot for the Streaker. In reality, they only had a few seconds. “Sit down, Tally!” she yelled. “Let’s get out of here!”
With the shields up, the ship would be safe. Tally had been caught off-guard, however, and he wasn’t ready to jump to hyperspace. Rance watched the red streak connect with the Star Streaker with a sickening flash of light.
The world upended as the ship’s gravity was knocked out. Rance’s head banged against the ceiling, and she reached out to steady herself against the wall. The sudden weightlessness left a queasy feeling in her stomach. She bounced downward and caught hold of Harper’s seat. “Tally, where are the shields? Abel,” she called, “you okay?”
“Okay, boss. Floating around the hold with nothing to latch onto is nice.”
“Everything else secure down there?”
“It’s tight.”
“We’ll come get you in a moment.”
Tally flipped some switches. “No shields, Captain. We’re dead.”
For a tense moment, everyone checked systems. The ship wasn’t moving, they didn’t have shields, and an unknown armed ship was closing in on them. “We have lights,” Rance said.
“That’s about it,” Tally said. “They disabled something.”
“Can we fix it?”
“Won’t know until I get down there.” He unfastened himself from the chair.
Rance pulled herself out of the way, preparing to take his seat. She punched the cushion in anger. “We should have left that blasted box on the planet!”
“I smell smoke.” Solaris unfastened himself and followed Tally.
Harper joined Solaris, leaving Rance in the cockpit. The other ship requested an open channel. Rance hesitated. She didn’t want them to see the fear on her face. After taking another moment to compose herself, she accepted the request with audio only.
A man’s gruff voice came over the comm. “Prepare for boarding.”
“Captain Cooper here. Nice to meet you, too.”
“Don’t play stupid. You have something we want. Nice of you to bring it by.”
“Pretty sure I didn’t.”
“This is Captain Fox of the Devil Raider. Either allow us to connect a boarding tube to your airlock, or we’ll connect a boarding tube to another part of your hull and create a new airlock. Won’t be pleasant when we disconnect. Your choice.”
Rance muted herse
lf and called over the ship-wide comm. “Status?”
“Fire in engineering,” Solaris said. “We put it out, but it doesn’t look good. Tally is assessing the damage. No hull breaches that we have found.”
“What about the hyperdrive?”
“Not sure yet.”
In the background, Rance heard Tally moving around muttering under his breath.
“That drive is first priority after life support. Get it working.”
“Understood.”
Rance unmuted the ship-to-ship comm. “Captain Fox, what assurance do I have that you won’t board my ship and kill us all?”
After seeing those mercs murder the smugglers, Rance would not willingly allow them to board the Star Streaker, but she needed time.
“Time’s up,” Fox announced.
Rance pulled herself up to look out the window. The Devil Raider had pulled up beside the Streaker. It was shaped like a bird of prey, sleek and dangerous.
“Guys!” Rance called. She pivoted around, propelling herself to the hatch. “We’re going to have company! Get that drive working!”
Rance pulled herself headfirst down the ladder, hoping Tally didn’t get the gravity restored before she made it out of the hatch. Once she cleared the door, she pushed off from the ladder, shooting toward the stair that led to the hold.
When she reached the bottom, Rance maneuvered around the crates secured to the floor until she reached the box with the Caduceus Drive.
“Captain?” Harper asked as she made her way out of the control room.
“We need an advantage,” Rance said as she opened the box once again. This time, she didn’t hesitate to remove the drive from its cushion. She pushed off from the box and into the med bay.
“Wait, Captain. We don’t know what will happen.”
“This little chip could run a fully armed Renegade, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Then it should be able to tell us what’s wrong with the Streaker.”
A loud thunk reverberated throughout the Streaker as the Devil Raider’s boarding tube hit the hull. Any second, the mercs would begin cutting through the Streaker’s bay doors.
