by A. K. DuBoff
They returned to the shuttle and locked the door, just in case Merica made a run for it.
“What if she reports us after she gets off here?” Jack asked once they were seated.
Alyssa shrugged while she secured her flight harness. “She doesn’t really know who we are, aside from some first names. And since she only ever communicated with Trent and saw his ship, it’s doubtful she could trace anything back to us.”
“Hmm, I guess that’s true.” Jack paused. “And what about Trent himself?”
“I guess we’ll figure that our when we get back.”
They ascended through the heavy cloud cover, and the sky slowly changed from blue to black. The Little Princess II and Thrasher were in geosynchronous orbit with an umbilical connecting the two vessels. Alyssa headed for the Thrasher and docked in the hangar.
The rest of the crew and Trent were waiting for them.
“How’d she take it?” Triss asked on behalf of the group.
“Oh, positively thrilled.” Alyssa grinned.
“I guess this is where we part ways,” Trent said.
Alyssa nodded. “You have your jewels, we have our art. That was the agreement.”
A claxon sounded, echoing throughout the chamber.
“About that…” Trent produced two pistols from under the table; he pointed them at Alyssa and Triss, respectively. “There’s been a change of plan.”
Simultaneously, four armed men appeared from behind crates around the room, training their weapons on Jack and Finn.
Alyssa groaned. “Didn’t I call it? I knew a double-cross was coming.”
“You did always want to see the good in people,” Trent sneered. “Svetlana was the only reason you two survived. I can’t imagine you making it on your own with these two buffoons.”
“I take offense to that,” Finn retorted, preening his hair.
“I’d rather have a heart than be a low-life snake like you,” Alyssa spat back.
Triss shook her head. “Don’t. He’s not worth it.”
Trent laughed. “I always appreciated your spirits—always willing to fight, however misguided your motivations may be.”
The claxon sounded again, then settled into a rhythmic blare.
“What’s that?” Jack asked, covering his ears with his hands.
“My reinforcements have arrived.” Trent used one pistol to motion toward a door leading from the cargo hold to the rest of the ship. “Hands behind your heads.”
Jack pivoted his hands so his fingers wrapped behind his head but he was still able to keep his ears partway covered to block out the offensive tone.
Trent directed the four captives through the door and down a short hall to a common room. A window on the outer bulkhead offered a view of a large ship sporting dorsal spikes and a ridiculous number of guns.
“Uh, is that a Vorlox ship?” Jack asked.
“The Obliterator? No. But it’s a nice replica, isn’t it?” Trent replied.
Alyssa glared at him. “What the hell have you been up to?’
“On your knees along the far wall,” Trent instructed.
The four thugs on his crew entered the room, keeping their weapons trained on the group. Reluctantly, Jack and his friends complied with the order.
Trent holstered his pistols. “That was a nasty trick you helped Svetlana pull over on me. Don’t pretend you didn’t have this coming.”
Triss shook her head. “I don’t know what you think we did, but we’re all out of the business now.”
“Oh, really?” He laughed. “That’s why I ran into you in the middle of a heist, is it?”
“Well…” Triss floundered.
“We’re out of the weapons-dealing ring,” Alyssa jumped in. “We both did things to each other that weren’t very friendly. Let the past be, and we can part ways and never see each other again.”
“My, I’ve never seen you grovel,” Trent sneered. “Afraid you won’t be able to talk your way out of this one.”
“Then do whatever you’re going to do to us,” Triss shot back.
Jack cautiously raised one hand above his head. “This sounds like a conflict between the two of you, so maybe Finn and I can—”
Trent drew one of his pistols and pointed it at Jack’s head. “You wanted to be part of the team, so now you get to die with them.”
“If you’re planning to shoot us,” Finn said, “doing it I front of a window on an exterior bulkhead isn’t the best place. Potential damage and decompression and all that.”
“Why are you helping them kill us better?” Jack whispered to Finn next to him.
“I didn’t bring you in here to shoot you,” Trent responded. “I wanted to show you my other ship as part of the big reveal.”
“Big reveal of… what?” Triss asked.
“The unveiling of my master plan I’ve been carefully weaving for months.”
Alyssa glanced from Trent to her kneeling comrades. “But, like, why?”
“Because it’s more dramatic that way.” Trent groaned. “Stop asking questions! You’re ruining the moment.”
“So, I mean, I’m just curious why you want to share your whole plan with a ‘big reveal’? What purpose does that possibly serve?” Alyssa continued.
Trent rolled his eyes. “You never understood showmanship.” He redirected the pistol from Jack’s head to gesture at the ship visible through the window. “Svetlana’s network was powerful, but after I was cut out of the Concord deal, I knew I had to find a way to get even. The Vorlox had just come onto the scene, targeting criminal types just like her; all I needed to do was capitalize on that image and build a ship to look like one. Then I could go after Svetlana and her base of operations and pin it all on the Vorlox, so any survivors wouldn’t come after me looking for retribution.
“But I had a problem. I had no idea where that base was located,” he continued. “When I saw that one of her ships, Little Princess, was sitting unattended at a spaceport, I snagged it so I could go through the navigation directory and figure out the location of the base. When I was done retrieving the information I needed, I sold the ship to a junker.”
“You’re who stole it!” Jack exclaimed. “I knew my detective skills would lead me to you.”
Trent screwed up his face. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I, uh… solved the mystery,” Jack mumbled.
“I literally just told you I was the one who took it. You didn’t figure out anything.”
“Just tell him he did a good job so we can move on,” Alyssa said with a sigh.
“Good job?” Trent responded, somewhere between a question and a statement.
Jack grinned. “Thanks! It’s good to be back in the detective game.”
“Anyway, so once I knew where the Luxuria station was located, I just needed to have my replica Vorlox ship ready to launch my assault. However, manufacturing a custom façade for a starship is stupid-expensive,” Trent went on. “I needed to take a high-paying job to fund it. That’s when I saw Merica’s open call for fake kidnappers. The advance was enough to finish the Obliterator retrofit.”
“That was a great plan, Trent,” Alyssa said with thick sarcasm, “but you utterly failed at taking out Svetlana. Not a single person died in the attack on Luxuria.”
“I only got off one shot before the real Vorlox showed up. My entire plan hinged on everyone thinking we were one in the same, so I had to jump away,” he explained. “I’d figured they’d destroy the station, but I found out after the fact that they instead picked up the escape pods and everyone survived. That’s when I caught word that you were working on some hot new lead, so I decided to sit back and wait to see what it was.”
“You’ve been following us?” Triss asked.
“Not following, but keeping tabs.” He smirked. “See, you can learn a lot about people when their home base is destroyed—to see where everyone scatters. When I heard that the infamous Alyssa and Triss were spotted in the same system as GiganCor
p’s preeminent research lab, I figured there would be something worthy of taking. While killing you was an easy out, I saw the opportunity to make it proper revenge—to take something you care about from you before you meet your end.”
Alyssa scoffed. “Hate to break it to you, but all of that tech was handed over to Competron a month ago. It’s already on the market.”
“Yes, MECs abound,” Trent replied. “But running into you on this op? Well, it turned out to be a happy accident. You haven’t left your damned new ship since you got it, but I had the chance to win your trust just enough to get you all over here. I know your type, and you would never hand over all that tech without keeping a backup of the underlying specs, and the only place you’d store that would be in your quarters.”
Alyssa’s face dropped. “This entire detour with Merica…”
“Yep, just waiting to get you cornered like this so we could seize your unoccupied ship. Now I get to see your hearts crushed by the knowledge that I’ll use your precious MEC design for weapons, and I still get to kill you. It’s so much more satisfying this way.”
Triss scrunched up her nose. “Okay, but isn’t the last bit of the plan needlessly complicated? You could have just knocked us out the moment we got to the ship with Merica.”
“Admittedly, I kinda wanted to see Merica marooned. She was a pain in the ass.”
“I can’t argue with that.” Triss nodded.
“But, now you know my complete plan,” Trent continued. “It’s time I kill you.”
“That’s kind of a sudden end to the ‘big reveal’, isn’t it?” Alyssa asked. “I feel like it would have more impact if we had to reflect on your words for a while.”
“Besides, we already established this was a poor choice for shooting location,” Finn pointed out.
“For what it’s worth, I don’t want to die,” Jack added.
Trent sighed. “Ugh, you’re all so high-maintenance.”
“They do have a point, boss,” one of the thugs said from near the doorway. “They’re unarmed and trapped right now. It wouldn’t make for a great show if we kill them without giving them another chance for a daring escape.”
“Fine,” Trent conceded. “Go lock them up somewhere. But this isn’t over!” He stormed out.
“He couldn’t think of anything more original?” Finn commented.
“Trent has always been a walking cliché.” Triss shook her head.
The four guards took a step forward.
“On your feet,” the one who’d spoken before said. “Let’s get you locked up real good.”
CHAPTER 10: Double-Cross
— — —
“Un-freaking-believable.” Alyssa groaned.
“Where are we?” Jack asked, peering into the darkness around them. He cycled through the various settings on his cybernetic eye, but he couldn’t make out anything useful aside from the heat signatures of his three friends. His hands were bound behind his back with metal twine; difficult to escape from, but not an insurmountable challenge.
“It’s either a storage room or some kind of cargo hold,” Triss said.
“Why did they have to bind our hands behind our backs? I can’t fix my hair. It’s a mess—I can feel it!” Finn moaned.
“We have bigger worries than the state of your hair right now, Finn,” Alyssa said. “We need to escape and get our ship back.”
“Making Trent pay would be a fine item to add to the agenda,” Triss added.
“That too.”
Jack smiled. “Fortunately for all of you, you’re trapped with a legendary escape artist.”
Alyssa sighed. “Jack, we don’t have time for more of your exaggerated boastings.”
“No, I’m serious.” Jack showed them his freed hands. Unfortunately, being complete darkness, no one could see it.
“Really funny. But we’re looking for actual solutions,” Alyssa said.
“I’m not joking.” Jack repositioned to his knees and began scooching toward the heat signature that had corresponding with the direction of Alyssa’s voice. He held his hands in front of him to feel his way, since his combination of organic and cybernetic eyes offered little depth of field. His index finger jabbed into something soft and moist.
“Ow!” Alyssa exclaimed. “That was my eye!”
“Sorry.” Jack quickly retracted his hand.
“Now I can’t see, either,” Alyssa moaned.
“Wait, how did you poke her in the eye?” Triss asked.
“I told you, I’m a legendary escape artist.”
“No, really, how?” Triss pressed.
Jack groaned. “Ugh! Why can’t you believe that I freed myself?”
“Probably because you generally bumble about as a helpless man-child,” Finn replied to his right.
“I have some skills, you know.” Jack reached out more carefully toward the heat form that he thought should be Alyssa’s shoulder. “Is that you, Alyssa?”
“Yeah.”
He traced his hands down her back and arms to her hands. Once he located the binds around her wrists, he began severing the ties using the strategy he’d employed with his own lashings.
“Oh, huh,” Alyssa said. “I guess you really did get yourself free.”
“Why didn’t you tell us you could get bindings off like that?” Finn asked.
“This is literally the first time since I’ve known you that it was relevant.”
“Fair point,” Finn conceded.
“What matters now is that you can. Hurry, before they come back!” urged Triss.
“I’ll try to help,” Alyssa said while Jack probed his way through the dark toward Triss’ voice.
“Stars, how in the planets did you get these off?!” Alyssa exclaimed in a harsh whisper several seconds later.
“Ow!” Finn hissed in response to Alyssa’s attempt to free him.
“Sorry.” Alyssa sighed. “I never thought I’d admit that I need Jack’s help.”
Pride filled Jack’s heart. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear those words.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Alyssa hastily replied.
“Every crew needs a member to be the butt of most jokes. You know the rules,” Finn added.
“Yeah, I know.”
The Codes of Crew Dynamics were very clear on the matter. Jack had always aspired to be the ‘bold, daring leader who never turned from a challenge’, or perhaps settle for ‘plucky, smooth-talking second-in-command’, but he’d come to accept his role as the ‘awkward but loveable sidekick’. He’d take his moments of glory whenever he could get them.
“Hold on, be right there,” Jack said to Alyssa and Finn while he worked on Triss’ bindings.
The cuffs were looped metal twine—the nasty kind that would dig into wrists if one struggled too hard. However, the Trap Me NotTM microcutters that Jack had acquired via the SpaceMall catalogue were designed particular for such unexpected capture scenarios. Though his teammates had made fun of him for his supposed catalogue-based shopping addiction, he had, in fact, been arming himself with all of the ridiculous devices he could cram into his jacket. The microcutters, which had replaced his cuff buttons, were now coming in handy. He had yet to use the confetti dispenser lined in the back collar or speaker system in the chest that only played 1990s techno from Old Earth, but he was confident that the right occasion would arrive.
With a careful snip of the button-sheers, the twine around Triss’ wrists came free.
“How did you do that?” she asked.
“Magic.”
Triss sighed. “I haven’t had my taquito fix for today, so I’m not in the mood for jokes.”
“All right, I have microcutters for my jacket cuff buttons.”
“Uh, what?” Finn said with obvious skepticism.
“I told you, I always like to be prepared for anything,” Jack replied.
Alyssa tsked. “When have you ever said that?”
“It’s my motto.” Jack paused. “Okay, so maybe I’ve only
said it out loud once since you’ve known me, but I did say it.”
Triss’ heat-blob visible with Jack’s left eye appeared to frown. “I feel like this thing you’re using to facilitate our escape came out of nowhere.”
“If anyone paid attention to what I’ve been doing, you’d realize that I’ve been collecting random, potentially useful tools for the past month to supplement those I purchased through the catalog,” he replied. “I tried to tell you about them, but you cut me off. The fact that I get to use one of those things now is a testament to my foresight.”
“So, what, you carry around a bunch of things so you’ll always have whatever we need? How has this never come up before?” Alyssa questioned.
“Because you’ve always had your own things. Just because I’m a background sidekick doesn’t mean I’m a poor planner.”
“And you’re ready for anything? You?”
Jack shrugged. “Not anything. I’m thinking a flashlight would have been more useful than the breast-pocket speakers, and the confetti in the collar was a terrible impulse purchase. Really, the microcutters are the only useful thing I have to offer.” He felt around his various pockets, just to be sure. “Oh, though I do have some breath mints.”
“Could I get one of those?” Alyssa asked.
“May as well have one, too, then,” Triss requested.
“Yeah, same,” Finn added. “Also, untying me would be great.”
Jack opened the tin. “Problem: I only have three.”
“Yeah, and there are three of us,” Alyssa replied.
He frowned. “There are four, counting me.”
“I guess you don’t get one, then.”
“But they’re my mints!”
Alyssa sighed. “Then you should have been more careful about inventory management.”
“My lashings, if you wouldn’t mind…” Finn ventured.
Jack sat in silence, weighing his options. This was, perhaps, his best and only chance to gain the respect of his crewmates. For once, he was the one with the tools to save the day—no longer along for the ride, but the one holding the fate in his hands.
Pressure mounted in his chest, and his hands trembled. Three soft tinks sounded in the darkness.
