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The Final Stroll on Perseus's Arm

Page 6

by M. D. Cooper


  The other guard came around the far side of the shuttle shaking her head. “Can’t get one patrol done without someone fucking under a ship.”

  “You two registered?” the first guard asked. “You can’t be out here armed and armored otherwise.”

  “We’re from the Scared Aphrodite,” Jessica said, rattling off one of the larger merchant ships she’d seen on the listings when they’d come in. “Captain Tony doesn’t like fraternization, so we ducked out after our shift. Look, we’ll get back, but can we just have a few more minutes?”

  The two guards shared a look and the first one sighed. “You know we can’t do that.”

  Nance gestured to a small pouch on her hip. “Could I provide some sort of persuasion for some leeway? We’ll be gone before your next round. We promise.”

  The second guard laughed. “How much persuasion?”

  Nance slowly popped open the pouch and pulled out a pair of local hundred dollar chits. “How’s this look?”

  The first guard looked at the second and shrugged. “Looks like these lovergirls just bought us our drinks for the next few nights.” She reached out and took the chits from Nance’s hand and tossed one to the second guard.

  “Sounds good to me,” the second guard grinned as she snatched the chit out of the air.

  Jessica tensed. This was where the two guards would do one of three things: walk away, demand more money, or take them in regardless of the bribe.

  Thankfully the pair of women chose option one and walked away, both throwing knowing looks over their shoulders at Jessica and Nance before turning past the shuttles and disappearing from view.

  Nance said as she reached down and picked up her helmet.

  Jessica grinned as she pulled her hair back up.

  Nance winked as she slid her helmet back over her head.

  A minute later the pair was back on the move, this time working their way behind the row of shuttles, along the concrete wall. When they came to a break in the barrier, they crossed into the next row of shuttles, and made their way down it to another intersection where they turned left.

  Iris said, highlighting the Peerless Transport shuttle on their HUDs.

  The vessel was a sleek, white oval, fifty meters in length. An airlock stood closed at the top of the cradle’s ramp, and several lights on the ship illuminated the area around the vessel.

  Jessica and Nance kept to the rear of the row of shuttles on the opposite side of the central path, watching the ship for any signs of activity.

  Erin said.

  Nance said.

  Jessica said.

 

  Iris dispersed a fresh batch of nano that reached out toward the ship, drifting on the breeze so as not to attract any attention. After a minute they began to settle on the shuttle’s hull.

  Erin commented.

  Iris added.

  Then nano slowly worked their way across the skin of the ship toward the airlock control panel, and when they arrived, a batch filtered in through the seams around the panel and tapped into the controls.

  Iris said as she began to probe the shuttle’s security.

  Nance asked with a soft laugh.

  Iris replied.

  Jessica replied.

  Nance added.

  No sooner had they spoken those words, then the probes picked up a pair of footfalls coming from one direction, and loud laughter from the other.

  Jessica muttered.

  The ships in this row were lighter, and only four armatures on each cradle supported them. Which meant they wouldn’t be able to hide from anything but the most casual observation.

 

  Nance asked.

  Neither of the approaching groups were in visual range yet, and Jessica tapped Nance on the shoulder.

  The pair of women rushed across the lane between the ships and up the ramp. Iris opened the airlock as they approached and closed it the moment they were inside.

  Jessica watched the feeds relayed from the nano outside the shuttle. The same two guards came into view on the left, and a group of men and women passed by the intersection on the right.

  Neither slowed, and a minute later the row was clear once more.

 

  Jessica replied.

  The inner door on the airlock cycled open and they stepped into the shuttle.

  It was a standard configuration—there were only so many ways to make shuttles, after all. Jessica and Nance stood at the edge of a wide main deck, rows of seats filling the space. A staircase in the center of the deck led up to a second level, and to their left was a food service area, beyond which was the entrance to the cockpit.

  Iris exclaimed suddenly.

  Nance said as she took a step forward.

  Jessica held an arm out, stopping Nance.

  Erin suggested.

  Jessica added.

  Erin countered.

  While they waited for Iris to scan the main deck for any traps, Jessica surveyed the space, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

  All-in-all, it was a very plain shuttle. Capable of carrying roughly one hundred fifty passengers, with two human attendants and four automatons.

  Nance asked.

  Erin suggested.

  Jessica replied.

  Iris gave a low chuckle.

  Jessica directed Nance.

  Iris said.

  Jessica let Nance continue to walk forward, and only when she was a dozen paces away, did Jessica step out and walk toward the cockpit. If there were more traps, no need for both of them to get caught in the same one.

  Jessica replied to Iris as she walked into the serving area. She peered behind the counter, and checked some of the larger cabinets. An automaton stood in a corner, a skinned model, made to look human. It wore a Peerless Transport uniform, and Jessica walked up to the rob
ot, scanning it with her augmented vision, checking its EM levels and status.

  The automaton didn’t move, its systems registering a full-powerdown mode when queried.

  Jessica turned from the machine and walked into the cockpit. Two main seats were at the front, and a third sat behind and on the left.

  The ship could probably fly itself to the moon and back without trouble, but people always liked to know there were people around in case things went wrong—especially here in the retro-zone.

  Nance reported.

  Jessica stepped out of the cockpit and back into the food service area. Something about the automaton bothered her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She checked again, and the thing hadn’t moved a micrometer since she first looked at it, though.

 

  Jessica walked into the main cabin to see Nance standing close to the foot of the stairs, looking at the space where the disabled grav field trap was.

  She glanced back at Jessica.

  Nance walked to the stairs and began climbing them without incident. Jessica waited for Nance to reach the top before she followed after, bracing for some sort of attack as she climbed the steps.

  None came, and a few seconds later, both women stood on the shuttle’s second level, looking at the stasis pod wedged into the aisle at the back of the level.

  Nance took one tentative step, then rushed toward it.

  Iris cautioned.

  “May I offer you a beverage?” a voice said and Jessica turned to see the upper level’s automaton hold up a bottle of water. “Water? Coffee? Wine.”

  “No,” Jessica said. “Resume standby.”

  The automaton nodded and reached under the counter. “Restadia wine. One glass or two.”

  Jessica shook her head and took a step toward the automaton. “Dammit, stupi—”

  Erin yelled, and Jessica dropped without any hesitation as a pulse shot rippled through the air where her head had been and struck the overhead, shattering a light fixture.

  Erin reported.

  Jessica jumped behind the bar, pushing the automaton over, while Nance ducked behind a row of seats.

  Jessica asked as a shadow appeared to float over the railing. It dropped behind the seats and disappeared from view.

  Nance asked.

  Jessica unslung her pulse rifle and fired a series of blasts at the seats. The concussive waves would be slowed, but would still hit whoever was on the far side.>

 

  POOL WITH A VIEW

  STELLAR DATE: 03.10.8948 (Adjusted Years)

  LOCATION: Killashandra Mountain Resort, Ferra, Sullus System

  REGION: Midway Cluster, Orion Freedom Alliance Space

  “So much for the bad guys always being in the bar,” Trevor said as he and Cargo walked through the room, scanning the patrons’ faces to see if any matched the Laren’s crew roster.

  “I didn’t say they were always in the bar. I just said that since it was nearby, we may as well check there.” Cargo stopped at the end of the room and sighed. “Well, I guess we’ll move on to plan B.”

  Trevor opened his mouth to reply, when the sound of the opening break on a pool table came through a doorway to their left.

  “Looks like there’s still more bar to check out,” Cargo said with a wink.

  The two men walked through the door to see a pool hall with at least forty tables spread throughout the space. A few games were going on, but none of the Laren’s crew were in evidence.

  Cargo sapped his fingers. “Damn, got my hopes up.”

  They turned to leave but the sound of another break reached their ears. Cargo looked around the room, not seeing any games that had just started.

  “Back there,” Trevor pointed across the hall. “Looks like private rooms, or something.”

  “Here’s hoping redux,” Cargo said as they threaded the tables and approached the doors at the rear of the pool hall. There were three in total. Two were closed, but one was open a crack.

  Trevor nodded to Cargo.

  Cargo replied.

  Cargo stepped ahead of Trevor, and when he reached the door, pushed it wide and walked into the room before stopping and looking around.

  The room was occupied by Captain Hunter and three officers from the Laren.

  “Oh, shoot, wrong room,” Cargo said, raising a hand and taking a step back.

  Hank cautioned.

 

  “As unlikely as it seems,” Captain Hunter said from the far end of the table said as she raised a handgun. “You’re in exactly the right place.”

  Cargo’s smile disappeared as he took a step forward. “Captain Hunter, you have ten seconds to hand over Cheeky.”

  “The what?” Hunter cocked her head. “Are you calling me cheeky? That doesn’t even make any sense.

  Cargo took another step forward, but spotted motion out of he corner of his eye. He spun to see a massive woman emerge from behind the door, bearing down on him, barrel-sized fists swinging toward his head

  He dodged the first swing, but then one of the Laren’s officers grabbed him from behind. Cargo wrenched to the side, trying to pull away.

  The massive woman pulled her fist back to swing at Cargo again, when a pink and blue blur streaked through the doorway and crashed. into the massive woman. The impact slammed her into the pool table, pushing it backward and pinning Captain Hunter between it and the far wall.

  “Fuck, Jenny!” Captain Hunter called out.

  Cargo took advantage of the distraction to wrench himself free from the man holding him, and swung a fist at the officer’s face.

  A shot rang out, and Cargo felt something whiz by his ear. He turned, saw Hunter taking aim at him again, and ducked behind the officer he was fighting.

  Hunter held off shooting, and Cargo punched the man he was using for cover in the kidneys before lifting him bodily and rushing toward the Laren’s captain.

  As Cargo ran, he glanced across the pool table and saw Trevor picking up a pair of pool balls which he then smashed into the massive woman’s face.

  She reeled backward while Trevor turned to face the other two officers—one of whom was firing point-blank shots from a pulse pistol at Trevor’s torso.

  A rage-filled bellow tore its way out of Trevor’s throat, and he grabbed the shooter’s wrist and yanked hard, sending the man flying across the room.

  Cargo’s attention was drawn back to the man he was using as a shield, who had twisted and was now punching him in the side. Cargo gave a heave and threw the man toward the captain. He missed, and the man hit the wall next to Captain Hunter.

  With his own rage-filled bellow, Cargo lunged at Hunter, trying to wrest her pistol away.

  She was ready for him and fired a shot before he made it half-way. The projectile struck Cargo in the left shoulder, but he didn’t slow. A pool ball rolled across the table and Cargo grabbed it, taking a cue from Trevor.

  Cargo drew his arm back to throw the ball, but Hunter didn’t waver, the barrel of her gun trained on his head.

  “Don’t move, scumbag,” she yelled, and Cargo lowered his raised arm. “That’s right, buddy you’re—”

  Hunter’s utterance was cut short by another pool ball striking her in the sternum with a resounding crack.


  She spasmed and the gun fired, hitting the table right beside Cargo. He reached out and grabbed the pistol, wrenching it from her hands before training it on her.

  “Thanks, Trevor,” Cargo said as he backed away from Captain Hunter.

  Trevor threw another pool ball, past Cargo, hitting the first officer in the head as he rose from where Cargo had thrown him.

  A long shaky breath escaped Cargo’s lips and he glanced at the door, which had been shut at some point during the scuffle.

 

 

  Cargo turned back to the Laren’s captain, who was taking short, shallow breaths with one hand on her sternum.

  “So, Captain Hunter, like I said before: where’s Cheeky?”

  “What…” Hunter wheezed, “the fuck…are you talking about?”

  “You know our pilot, the crew member you abducted in Parda City?”

  Hunter frowned. “I have no clue who that is. I’ve never been to Parda City. We were approached by a woman this afternoon to keep an eye out for you. If we saw you, there was a considerable bounty to be collected.”

  Cargo gestured with the gun he was holding. “And you always play pool while armed?”

  “Well, she did say this was your favorite table.”

  “Shit, Cargo, have we been played?” Trevor asked.

  Hank offered.

 

  Trevor nodded and rushed out of the room toward the bar’s outside deck.

  “So there’s no bounty on you?” Captain Hunter asked in a hoarse whisper.

  “Well, not that I know of,” Cargo replied as he kept the gun fixed on her.

  Hank announced.

  Hunter frowned. “Then what the hell is going on?”

  “Well, if you didn’t abduct Cheeky, then we both just got played. What are you doing in the Sullus System, anyway? It’s not on your usual route.”

 

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