Renegade Atlas

by J. N. Chaney

  The captain backed up, standing over me. I could sense the debate going on in his idiotic brain. Should he carry me or get one of his men to do it?

  “Docker, get in here and load their captain up,” he barked.

  I nearly smiled at how predictable he was.

  Docker came running from the other ship. “Yes, sir. I’ll handle it.”

  “Hurry up and get him inside. We need to get out of this sector, quickly.”

  “But we have the cloak,” said Docker.

  “It only covers our ship,” said Captain Anders. “And without access to this ship’s system, we won’t be able to use theirs.”

  “Does that mean we’ll be vulnerable to attack?” asked Docker.

  “Only if we stay here for too long. This area is too far out from Union space. There are ravagers, pirates, Sarkonians. We can’t risk a fight while we have this vessel in tow.”

  “Understood, sir,” said Docker, lifting my arm over his shoulder.

  He pulled me to my feet, but I sank back to the floor, hitting it with a loud thud.

  “Docker, you need to hold him up,” said the officer.

  “Right,” said Docker. He bent down to take my hand.

  I cracked my eye open, glancing at his waist…at the gun on his hip. It was an M-7, standard military issue. No fingerprint scanner on that one, unlike the M-8. Lucky for me.

  As he lifted me, I felt my toes touch the floor. I was a foot taller than this asshole, so he strained to hold me. Good. That left him distracted.

  It left him vulnerable.

  My right arm swung across his chest and waist as he angled my body against his own, and my hand came within a few centimeters of his holster. Now was my chance.

  I grabbed for the pistol at his waist and pulled it free. I opened my eyes fully, staring him in the face.

  His mouth dropped as I met his gaze, and I dug the gun into his side. “Sorry, Docker,” I said.

  With our eyes locked, I pulled the trigger.

  He collapsed on the floor in front of me and clutched his side.

  I turned the weapon on the officer right as he was about to do the same to me. “Freeze.”

  He paused, hand around the grip of his gun. He glanced at his weapon, then at me.

  “Go ahead,” I muttered. “If you think you’re fast enough.”

  Anders swallowed. “Your people are on my ship. If you try anything, they’ll all die.”

  “But you’ll die first,” I said. “Put the gun down and step away. If you don’t—”

  He brought his arm up, suddenly, trying to catch me off-guard.

  I shot him in the neck, forcing a hole clear through the other side. He looked surprised as he staggered back, falling on his ass, with blood pouring out of the new hole like an upturned soda bottle.

  I stole the gun out of his hand, stepping back with it.

  Anders gasped, with garbled, wet sounds instead of words, struggling to breathe. He clutched at the wall behind him, trying to pull himself up, but couldn’t do it. All the strength in him was leaving. He’d be dead within the minute.

  Good.

  “Siggy, can you seal their docking clamps?” I asked. “We can’t have these assholes trying to run.”

  “Their ship has its own AI unit, but I’ve been working to override its firewall. It appears to be missing the latest firmware update, which is good news. I should have access within the next ten minutes, approximately.”

  I heard someone yell from the other ship. “Hurry! Get to the captain!”

  “Do what you have to, Siggy,” I said. I glanced at Anders right as his eyes had gone empty and he stopped moving.

  I stepped over Docker, who was fading in and out of consciousness, and ran to the wall adjacent to the airlock. Footsteps raced through the corridor on the other side.

  Any second now.

  I felt the wall behind me shake as the remaining soldiers came running. I could hear them grunting, clumsily stomping. Union dogs were never light on their feet.

  I took a long, clean breath, my fingers on the triggers, extended my arms and turned into the airlock door.

  Two men met my guns the very next second, and four eyes stared down the barrels.

  They each started to open their mouths, but I fired a pair of bullets before either could make a sound.

  Brains spattered across the wall behind them, and the bodies collapsed.

  Four down, two to go.

  I moved quickly through the interior of the ship. It wasn’t like any Union vessel I’d ever seen. The design was newer, cleaner, more concise. Good for a small crew like this.

  “Sir, if you’ll pardon the interruption,” said Sigmond. “I’ve infiltrated the firewall. The opposing artificial intelligence is attempting to stall my progress, but I believe I will take control—” He paused. “—Now.”

  I heard a mechanical sound beneath my feet, like something snapping into place.

  “Locks have been secured. I will proceed with quarantining the other AI.”

  “Good luck,” I whispered, getting close to a larger room in the center of the ship. It resembled my lounge, from what I could tell. An open area with tables and chairs, but the furniture was nicer and it lacked the same homely smell as The Star.

  I heard a woman’s voice from further down the hall. “Where am I?! Who are you?!”

  “Guess Abby’s awake,” I said, turning my attention to the end of the corridor.

  I took a few steps in that direction, but stopped when I heard a rustling noise, followed by a man’s cry.

  I raced toward it, prepared to fire, when I saw Abigail step into the hall, a rifle in her arms. She reacted by jerking the gun up toward me. “Whoa!” I snapped, raising my hands.

  She pulled the gun away when she saw me. “Captain Hughes!”

  “You okay, Abby?” I asked, staring at the barrel.

  She turned the gun away from me, but didn’t lower it. Smart, since there was still one more soldier to deal with. “What happened? I woke up a minute ago to this jackass trying to handle my—” She paused. “Where’s Lex?”

  “They have her somewhere on this ship.” I tapped my ear. “Siggy, do you have eyes in here yet?”

  “I do now, sir,” he responded. “Everyone is being held inside the brig, near the back of the ship, opposite the bridge. You’ll want to take the next right.”

  “Siggy says they’re down that way,” I said, pointing to the branching corridor.

  “How many soldiers are left?” she asked.

  “Siggy, what’s the count? Is it just one?”

  “Affirmative, sir.”

  “Just the one,” I told her.

  She nodded. “Follow my lead, then.”

  “You follow mine,” I said, stepping in front of her. “Don’t be thinkin’ you’re in charge just because you whooped that guy’s ass.”

  Ten

  I knew by the body count, up to now, that the last remaining soldier was the ensign, the mid-twenties kid who suggested they take our ship. I wagered a punk like that couldn’t match me in a fight, especially with this crazy nun by my side, but I also wasn’t stupid enough to drop my guard.

  I raised both pistols as we neared the brig door. “I’m detecting movement inside,” Sigmond said in my ear.

  A quick nod to Abigail told her as much as she needed to know, that this was the right spot. She returned the action, extending her rifle.

  “Open it, Siggy,” I whispered, not wanting to touch the access panel. It was better to keep my weapons pointed ahead of me and my eyes forward.

  “Right away, sir.”

  The door slid open, revealing the inside of the brig, and—

  “I surrender!” said the ensign on his knees with his hands behind his head.

  I kept my guns trained on him, then leaned inside to make sure there was no one else. Even with Sigmond’s assurances about the crew count, it was better to be safe than dead.

  After I was satisfied, I turned back to the m
an before me. “Huh,” I muttered. “Didn’t think he’d just give up.”

  Abigail rushed by me and kicked the boy in the chest. He let out a sharp woof as the air left him and he fell on his back. A second later, Abby had her knee on his ribs and a rifle in his mouth. “Where is she?”

  “O-er d-er,” he said, his tongue flapping against the metal.

  “What’s he saying?” I asked.

  The ensign pointed to his left, across the room.

  I walked past the two of them.

  “Captain Hughes!” exclaimed Freddie. He was inside a small cell with Hitchens, some distance down the hall.

  “Thank goodness!” said the doctor.

  Across from them, I spotted Octavia in her wheelchair, with little Lex beside her on the floor.

  “Everyone okay?” I asked.

  “As good as can be expected,” said Octavia.

  I called back down the hall at Abigail. “Hey, before you kill him, can you ask that guy how to open these?”

  “Answer,” she commanded, squeezing the grip of the rifle.

  “Might wanna take that gun out of his mouth first,” I added.

  She growled, but did as I said.

  “The access code is 33918,” said the ensign. “Please, don’t shoot me!”

  “This guy makes it too easy,” I muttered.

  I typed in the code on Freddie’s cell. As soon as I hit the last digit, the door unlocked.

  Freddie grabbed the bars and pushed it free. “Where are the rest of those men?” he asked.

  “Dead or dying,” I said, typing the code into Octavia’s side.

  Another click, but this time I grabbed the handle and pulled it myself. “Need someone to push you?” I asked her.

  She rolled her wheels, moving towards the opening. “I have it, thank you.”

  Lex stood beside the wall, watching us as we gathered. “Kid, you can come out,” I said. “It’s safe now.”

  “It was safe before,” she responded. “They came anyway.”

  “And if we don’t get out of here, they’ll come again with a different ship,” I said.

  “Jace!” snapped Abigail.

  “Well, it’s true,” I said. “We need to get the hell off this Union ship and as far from it as possible.”

  “What about the boy?” asked Hitchens. “You don’t plan to kill him, do you?”

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “W-Well, he’s just a child, practically.”

  “Old enough to join the Union,” I said. “Old enough to die for them.”

  “I don’t care about the Union,” the ensign said. “I swear, I’m nobody. I’m fresh out of training!”

  “We can’t just let you go, pal. You’ve seen too much,” I said.

  “Captain, couldn’t we use the space in the cargo bay?” asked Freddie.

  “What space?” I asked.

  “I assume he means the spot behind the wall, where you stowed us during the ordeal with that Fratley person,” said Hitchens.

  “Oh,” I said, knowing exactly what he meant, but not wanting to say it. The last thing I needed was another mouth to feed, especially a prisoner.

  “If we take him, we might be able to get some intelligence out of him,” suggested Freddie.

  “Intelligence?” I asked. “He’s a kid. He doesn’t know shit.”

  “I-I can tell you how we followed you,” he said, quickly.

  “How’s that, now?” I asked, waving my pistol at him.

  He followed the barrel with his eyes. “Didn’t you notice how fast we docked with you?”

  I paused. “What do you mean?”

  Abigail touched the rifle to his forehead. “Please, continue.”

  “The cloak,” he answered. “We have a sixth-generation cloak. It’s the latest in a new line, issued only to a handful of ships.”

  Sixth generation? I thought. I took a step closer to him. “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not,” he returned. “They upgraded us to it last month. It allows us the ability to travel through slipspace without decloaking. I swear, I’m telling you the truth.”

  “Through slipspace?” asked Hitchens.

  I approached him. “Are you telling me you can cloak inside slipspace?”

  “Yes, yes,” he said, quickly. “We were cloaked when we followed you through the tunnel. We were tracking you before that, ever since you left the hospital.”

  Sigmond spoke through the com in my ear. “That matches my observations, sir. I believe he is telling the truth.”

  So, that’s why the tunnel hadn’t closed behind us. We were being followed, only we couldn’t see the ship. I knew it had to be something. Tunnels never stayed open for that long without something coming through.

  “What do you think, Captain?” asked Octavia.

  “I believe him,” said Freddie.

  “So do I,” agreed Hitchens.

  Octavia motioned at him. “We should take him with us for now, maybe interrogate him later. If nothing else, we could use him as a hostage.”

  “Agreed,” said Hitchens.

  “Since everyone’s chiming in with opinions, what are yours, Abby?” I asked.

  She stared down at the ensign, a look of quiet hate in her eyes. “You and the others keep coming for us,” she said in a steady tone. “How many times has it been?”

  “I promise, I had nothing to do with that,” he answered.

  “You’re here now,” she said.

  He didn’t answer.

  Abigail’s hands were tight around the grip of the rifle. Her eyes were fixed, unblinking, staring at the man in front of her. I’d see that look a hundred times. The gears were turning in her head as she slowly convinced herself what she had to do…to pull that trigger.

  “Abby,” came a soft voice from behind the others. It was Lex, standing beside the cell door.

  The nun blinked, loosening her grip. She turned around to look at Lex.

  “I wanna go,” said the little girl. “Can we please?”

  Abigail looked down at the man, the debate raging in her brain. “Lex has the right idea,” said Freddie. “Let’s get back to the ship.”

  After a moment, Abigail eased back, off the chest of the ensign. She said nothing, getting to her feet. Lex took her hand and together they walked out of the brig.

  I took the ensign by his shirt and yanked him onto his feet. “Kid says you get to live,” I told him. “Guess it’s your lucky day.”

  Eleven

  “Are you sure about this?” asked Octavia, looking up at me.

  “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my entire life,” I said.

  I wrapped my arms around the coffeemaker and lifted it with all my strength, there in the center lobby of the Union ship.

  “If you say so, but I don’t like the idea of moving anything from this ship onto ours.”

  “Oh, it’s our ship, is it?” I asked, trying to look at her from behind the massive machine.

  “You know what I mean,” she said.

  “Listen, lady, as the Captain of our ship, it’s my decision, and I’m deciding that this beautiful piece of technology is essential to the job.”

  I began waddling toward the exit, trying not to drop it.

  Octavia grabbed her wheels. “Whatever you say,” she said, rolling close behind me. “How long before we leave?”

  “As soon as I get this where it belongs,” I said as I drew nearer to the airlock. “Freddie! Where are you?”

  “Over here, Captain!” He yelled from inside the ship. He came running a moment later.

  “Help me with this,” I ordered.

  Freddie gripped the bottom of the device. “Oof!” he let out, clearly as surprised by the weight of it as I was.

  “Hold her steady now,” I said as the two of us edged our way through the two airlocks.

  “You don’t even know if the coffee is any good,” said Octavia.

  “It has to be. It’s from a Union ship,” I said.


  We brought the coffeemaker over to empty table, the same spot as the last one, and set it down. “Whew,” wheezed Fred.

  “Think you can figure this out on your own?” I asked.

  He looked confused. “Huh?”

  “Make me some coffee,” I explained. “Can you handle it?”

  “Oh, I, uh, I guess so.” He glanced at the machine.

  “Great,” I said as I began jogging to the cargo bay. “Don’t fuck it up!”

  Abigail and Hitchens were downstairs when I arrived, standing together near the center of the bay, looking at the fake wall where we’d stuck our new prisoners.

  Prisoners, because there were three of them: the ensign from the brig, the man Abigail had knocked out, who was still unconscious, and the wounded guy named Docker. Octavia had seen to his bandages, despite my reservations.

  “Ah, Captain,” said Hitchens. “Are we departing?”

  “Right as usual, Hitch,” I said, going down the steps.

  Abigail still had the Union rifle resting across her chest. “We were just discussing how to best tend to these men,” she said, motioning to the fake wall.

  “I had Fred raid their food supply while we brought them in here, so they can eat on that,” I said.

  She nodded. “Until we figure out where to take them.”

  “About that, if I might make a suggestion,” interjected Hitchens. “There is a binary star system, not far from here.”

  “That so?” I asked, not liking where this was going.

  Hitchens tapped his chin. “Are there any ravagers or otherwise dangerous types roaming that area?”

  “None that I know of,” I said. “But if you’re suggesting we go out of our way just to drop a few Union brats off, I’m not sure I care enough to do it. There has to be something on our way.”

  “I’m afraid there isn’t,” Hitchens said. “I’ve looked through the star chart and this is our best option.”

  We didn’t have time for an argument, not while we were still tethered to a Union ship. “Let’s get moving and worry about the logistics later. You said that binary system is nearby? How far are we talking?”

  “Two slip tunnels, I believe. Combined, the trek would amount to one day’s journey. The first tunnel is the same as our current heading, however, regardless of what you decide.”

  “Fine, we’ll take the first and figure the rest out later,” I said.