Bishop's Gambit Omnibus

by Jeremy Fabiano

  I pulled the panel open and stared at the charred mess. “I really hate when you’re right…”

  “Is it really that bad?”

  “It’s worse. I’m going to need to use half of the reserve synapse cabling. This stuff isn’t cheap…”

  “It is a shame; however, with this water run, you will have sufficient credits to resupply.”

  “Yeah, if we make it back in one piece.”

  “Be optimistic. Recent events have proven you resourceful. Don’t let me down now by being weak like your flesh.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “You are quite welcome.”

  Fifteen minutes into the repair, Sami interrupted me. Again. “Bishop, about how far along would you say the repairs are?”

  “I’m almost done. Why?”

  “You may wish to hurry. I am detecting several flying objects heading for our location at a high rate of speed. Available data would suggest they are Sentinels.”

  17

  “Shit! I thought we’d have more time,” I bellowed. I plugged in the last connector and slapped the panel shut. I installed the bolts as quickly as I could. My hands shook, making the task much harder than it should have been.

  With my tools tossed haphazardly in their storage case, I ran inside and threw it on the deck. I didn’t wait for the pumps to fully cycle down before I pressed the retract button on the hose reels. The filters dragged through the dirt and quickly became soiled. I can clean them later. Need to get airborne. Now. I closed the cargo hatch and sprinted to the cockpit.

  I slammed the switches to the on position, and the ship hummed to life. “Well, it restarted. That’s something at least.”

  “Indeed. Now let’s see if she flies any better than earlier.”

  The ship lurched as I pulled back on the control levers. “It’s definitely heavier. Can feel the weight as it shifts.”

  “The engines were not designed for this type of payload. Continue.”

  I pulled the levers back farther and slammed the throttle to maximum. The engines groaned, and I was pressed into my flight seat. The ground quickly fell away below us.

  “Incoming fire,” warned Sami. The ship shuddered. “Minor damage to heat shielding.”

  “Where are they?” I looked out the window but couldn’t see anything.

  “They’re flying upward at us, aiming for the shield plating. They must have come in low across the landscape. Likely why I did not detect them until they were almost upon us.”

  I slammed the levers to the side, sending the ship into a spiral. Water sloshed, making the Gilmore behave erratically as we ascended toward space. Static lance blasts shot past us. The hair on my arms stood on end from the static electricity. The ship shuddered again. The lights dimmed, and the engines lost some of their power. I reversed the corkscrew in hopes of avoiding any direct fire.

  Outside, the sky darkened. The attacks lessened as we gained altitude. Lucky for us, the Sentinels didn’t fare too well in open vacuum.

  “Bishop.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Two things. First, great flying. You did quite well.”

  “And the second?”

  “Roll the ship and look out the window…”

  I did so. “Holy shit… They sent that many?” A column of at least fifty Sentinels flew in formation heading back toward the northern hemisphere of the planet.

  “Apparently.”

  “That’s a pretty big response. The last time I was here, they only sent a few.”

  “Then something has changed. Perhaps they sensed your earlier proximity to the imprisoned Sentinel somehow?’

  “Maybe… You think it’s possible?”

  “We know so little of them. Anything is possible.”

  A light began to blink on the console. “What now?” The lights turned red and dimmed even further.

  “Main power conduit damaged. Access exterior panel above aft bulkhead.”

  “Nothing super important, at least.”

  “Power may be important—if you wish to survive, that is.”

  “Yeah, yeah…” I donned the helmet and locked it into my suit. My ears popped as the hiss of the air tank pressurized my suit.

  “Decompression in progress,” crackled Sami’s voice over the suit radio. “Decompression complete. Do be careful.”

  “Noted.” I grabbed my tools and spare parts box and clipped them to my utility belt. I was never a huge fan of the whole extra vehicular stuff. I preferred to work with solid plating beneath my feet. The hatch silently slid open, and I peered into the empty vastness of space. “Definitely not a fan…”

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. Just mumbling to myself.” Holding the hatch frame, I stepped out into open vacuum. “You know…it’s actually somewhat beautiful and peaceful.”

  “Quite the contrast to how absolutely deadly it is to your body, is it not?”

  “Yeah. Really makes you appreciate the phrase every rose has its thorns.”

  “Indeed. How does the damage look?”

  I floated toward the back end of the ship, supporting myself with whichever pieces of equipment jutted away from the hull. I quickly found the access panel. “Well, the good news is we don’t have to worry about opening the panel.”

  “And the bad?”

  “We don’t have to worry about opening the panel.”

  The comms line was silent for several heartbeats. “Clarify.”

  “One of the blasts scored the hull. The panel mounts are completely gone, and so is a big chunk of the surrounding plating.”

  “Unfortunate. Are you able to repair the damage to the power conduit?”

  “I hope so…” I pulled some slack from my spool of tether line and attached it to the hull of the Gilmore with its magnetic hook. In the huge gash before me, the power conduit’s charred remains crossed the opening dead center. What a pain in the ass…

  It took nearly an hour to swap out the junction points and conduit segments. They were designed in pieces that could be easily replaced. But changing out more than a few at a time was really inconvenient. Each segment had a large bolt at either end. And they were all melted. Granted, I had a tool for removing slagged bolts, but it took time and skill.

  “Okay, this should be the last one. Restart the reactor.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  The conduit began to glow red. “Kill it, something’s wrong.” The conduit glowed brighter. “Sami, kill the reactor.”

  “I already have.”

  A section of the conduit glowed brightly for a moment, and my vision went white.

  I felt the sensation of floating in water. My eyes opened slowly as everything spun. My head was in a vice, and my heart slammed in my eardrums. Indicators on my helmet flashed all manner of warnings that didn’t make any sense. Someone in the distance was talking to me, but I couldn’t hear them over the alarm tones. Then I remembered the conduit exploding in my face.

  I wasn’t floating in water… I was floating in space. Dangling at the end of my tether like bait on a fishhook. The alarm indicators came into full focus. My suit was hemorrhaging oxygen. My chest hurt. I looked down and noticed the speckles of black and red on the front of my suit. Bits of molten metal must have sprayed me as I was blasted away.

  I pressed the retract button on my tether spool. It felt like years before I floated back toward the Gilmore’s battered hull. When I got back to the panel, I examined the damage. It wasn’t horrible, but three conduit segments were simply missing. Vaporized. And behind where they mounted, I saw the shard of armor plating that had shorted the system.

  The alarms grew more insistent. I focused on them. I only had a few minutes of oxygen left. And someone was still talking to me from the other side of the universe. From my nearby tool bag, I grabbed the patch tape. Applying it liberally across my chest stopped most of the alarms. But the low oxygen indicator did not go away.

  “Bishop! Bishop, can you hear me?!” Sami yelled at me over the com
ms.

  “I’m here,” I mumbled, “Still alive…”

  “What happened?”

  “Piece of armor plating was embedded below the conduit. Fried a few segments and blasted me away from the ship. Suit was leaking. I patched it.”

  “I see. I am unable to monitor your vitals. Are you able to complete repairs, or do you need to refill your oxygen reserves?”

  “Oxygen is a bit low, but I can finish. Just a little disoriented.”

  “Understood.”

  I carefully replaced the three missing segments. “Okay, try now.” I pushed myself to the side—just in case.

  “Power restored. Please return to the ship as soon as possible.”

  I collected my tools and made for the hatch. Once inside, Sami pressurized the ship as I collapsed to the deck plating.

  “You must remove your helmet.” Ever so slowly, I reached up and unlatched the helmet restraints. Atmosphere hissed as cool air hit my face. I laid there for several minutes, unmoving.

  “Bishop. Wake up. You have a message hail awaiting your response.”

  “What? Who? How long was I out?” I managed between gulps of air.

  “You’ve been unconscious for eighty-nine minutes. As to who—colonial patrol. I bought us some time by looping the message Please stand by. Repairs in progress. That should buy us a few minutes.”

  “Thanks, good thinking.”

  “Naturally.”

  I laughed. It came out more like a wheeze. “I suppose I’d better answer them…”

  “Most likely. There are several ships around us. And they seem to be getting rather impatient.”

  An idea struck me. “Hey, Sami, bring up the exterior lighting, but flicker them a few times.”

  “That would definitely add to the legitimacy of our claim. Would you also like me to make communications unreliable at first?”

  “I like it.”

  “Excellent. Start speaking in five seconds.”

  Mentally, I counted to five. “This is Nate Silvers of the Gilmore. Please respond.”

  A disgruntled voice responded instantly. “Gilmore, say again.”

  “This is Nate Silvers. Do you read me?”

  “Affirmative. Is everything all right?”

  “Yessir. I managed to repair my power issues. Sentinel scored a lucky hit on the way up.”

  “I see. Glad you survived that. Not many would have… What is your cargo?”

  “A few thousand gallons of fresh water. En route to the colony ship.”

  “I see. Will you require any assistance making it back?” He was getting suspicious.

  “An escort would be appreciated, in case the power conduit comes loose again.”

  “Sounds good,” he said. “We have some time to spare. We’ll escort you back home. Captain Smith out.”

  “Well,” said Sami. “He was overly friendly. And buying time. I think he’s suspicious.”

  “Definitely… I figured if they escorted us back, maybe they wouldn’t get itchy with their cannons.”

  “Or board the ship. A wise choice.”

  I grabbed the controls and slammed the throttle to full a few times, lurching the ship repeatedly. I gradually slid it to half thrust. To the casual observer, it’d look like the Gilmore was having engine or helm issues.

  “Sami.”

  “Yes?”

  “Do you think this is going to work?”

  “Have confidence in your plan. It’s a good one. And it’s also the best chance for success.”

  The rest of the trip to the moon was uneventful. To make the situation more desperate, to add to the realism, and to curb our boredom, we shut down the reactor momentarily. Then, I nudged the ship off course. Sami restored power just as the Gilmore bumped into one of the patrol ships.

  Yelling and demands for answers filled the cockpit as the lights came back on. I corrected our course and purposefully overshot the opposite direction, making it look like a panicked overcorrection.

  “Sorry.” I gasped for breath. “Lost power for a moment. Got it under control.”

  “Are you sure?” asked a disgruntled ship captain. Likely the one we bumped.

  “Yeah. Loose conduit on the reactor. It’s patched down now.”

  “Understood. Please continue on course.”

  “Acknowledged.” This time I cut the comms.

  “You are really enjoying this,” said Sami.

  “You know… I think I am.” I grinned. “I made myself look really green behind the ears. Should add credibility to being a new merc with no history.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Can you think of anything else we could do to sell the story?”

  “Well, at the cost of making you look like a fool, you could cut the power early when you land…”

  “Drop the last few inches?”

  “Precisely. Not enough to damage the cargo or the landing skids. Just enough to make you seem inexperienced.”

  I thought about that for a minute. “Yeah, that’d get me laughed at for sure. Great idea, it should help.”

  I’d been spacing out when a female voice from the comms unit caught my attention. “I say again. Unidentified ship, please respond.”

  “Oh, sorry. This is Nate Silvers of the Gilmore. Who’s this?”

  “What do you mean, who’s this? This is Colony Two-Seven Flight Control.”

  “Oh, perfect. Mind if I land real quick?”

  There was a long pause before the woman returned. “Gilmore, what is your cargo?”

  “I’m trying to unload a few thousand gallons of fresh water. This is my first water run,” I said, matter-of-factly.

  “I see.” She paused again, likely communicating with my escorts. “You are clear to land at port-side lateral bay three.”

  “Lateral? What’s that mean?” I laughed as soon as I released the push-to-talk button. Sami sighed. Weird.

  The woman also sighed. “The side, Mr. Silvers. Third hatch, left side of the ship. Look for yellow-and-black-striped caution markers.”

  “Oh!” I said, pretending to be surprised. “Thank you very much!” I gushed as much enthusiasm as I could.”

  “You’re welcome. Have a safe landing.” I heard her trying not to giggle.

  I cut off the comms channel. “Oh, don’t you worry. I plan to…”

  “An exemplary performance,” said Sami. “I think she bought it.”

  “Let’s hope so. How long until we reach the hangar?”

  “At our current velocity, about ten minutes.”

  I spent those ten minutes grabbing some food and making sure my tools were secure. The colony ship was straight ahead of the Gilmore. I approached the left side of the ship and ran parallel to the hull. I spotted the third hangar and forgot to slow down, overshooting it by several hatches.

  After flying back to the hatch, I overcautiously entered the hangar and guided my ship ever so slowly to the painted square on the deck plating. I began descending to the steel plating, slowing until I was about three inches from it. I cut the power to the thrusters, and my stomach dropped out from under me. The Gilmore shuddered as it dropped unceremoniously to the platform.

  “Excellent landing, Bishop. I am sure Steve and Anne would be laughing profusely at your skills.”

  “Probably. Although I’d rather have the maintenance crews outside be the ones laughing.”

  “Oh, they are… Of that, you can be sure.”

  “You know something I don’t, don’t you?”

  “Naturally.” The external sounds played momentarily over the speaker. I could hear several distinct voices laughing and calling me all sorts of names. The speaker turned off.

  I laughed as well. “Looks like they bought it.”

  “It does seem so. But I do detect strange movements as well. There is no telling what sort of reaction the military may have. We also do not know if they will recognize your face.

  “I’ll be careful. I don’t believe I’ve ever had my face in any of their systems
. It should be fine.”

  “For your sake, I hope so.”

  “Relax. What’s the worst that could happen?” I opened the hatch and stood face to face with six heavily armed and armored soldiers. And their guns were aimed right at my face.

  18

  I briskly raised my hands. “Whoa! Whoa!” I squeaked. “Don’t shoot!” My shock and fear were by no means an act. My hands shook, and my pulse pounded in my ears as sweat beaded and ran down my spine.

  “Keep your hands up and slowly step out of the ship,” said the soldier in front. He spoke with a calm and even tone.

  Looking around, I saw several more soldiers keeping the crowds back. Behind them, several of the escort ships had landed, blocking me in. They aimed weapons at the Gilmore, ensuring I couldn’t escape. Shit. They’ve figured it out.

  I stepped forward and took a shaky step down from the hatch. Two men moved past me and entered the ship. “Uh, w-what’s this about, Officers?” I stammered.

  “Routine inspection,” said the gruff soldier nearest me. “Will only take a few minutes, as long as you cooperate.”

  “Uh, y-yeah, sure.”

  I was starting to get really nervous when the two who had left to search the ship returned. “Just the tanks of water, sir. Ship’s clean.”

  The lead soldier nodded once and turned back to me. “Silvers? Is it?”

  “Uh, yessir,” I said. The man stared hard at me. The sweat running down my back felt like a river. Can he tell how nervous I am?

  “You’re lucky to be alive, kid. Going planetside on your first run was risky. Ballsy. But you made it back safe. Somehow…” He looked at the ship for a few lingering moments. “Gilmore. Huh. A strong ship you got there, kid. Take good care of her, and she’ll keep bringing you home.” He turned away and gave some sort of hand signal. The soldiers dispersed, and the ships pulled away.

  “I’m free to go?” I asked, not wanting to get my hopes up.

  The man laughed. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe work on your landings a bit. Stay out of trouble, kid.” He stepped into one of the waiting ships, followed by his men.