by J. N. Chaney
I tightened my finger around the trigger, just a breath away from plugging him with a bullet. “You’d better answer me.”
“I got you,” said the man begrudgingly.
“You’ve got a few minutes to save your buddy’s life,” I added with a nod to the ringleader who lay doubled over on the ground. “If you care enough to try.”
With that, I stepped out of firing range and bolted toward the Star.
In a place like this, they’d be lucky to get medical attention before death came, but that was their own fault. If they liked living, they shouldn’t have tried to mug us.
I found Calista in the cargo bay, and the gate immediately began to close the second I got on board.
“Siggy, let's get the hell out of here!” I shouted, running toward the stairs so I could reach the cockpit in time.
“Jace, wait,” Calista said.
“What?” I asked. “We don’t have time to wait, Calista. We’ve got to move.”
“You saved me back there,” she said.
I waited for her to get to the point, not really in the mood for whatever she was trying to say. “Yeah? And?”
“And you didn’t have to,” she snapped. Her anger faded almost instantly, and she looked up at me with wide eyes. “I really expected you to let them kill me so you could take off with the artifact. You didn’t have to make good on your promise to keep me safe, but you did. Thank you.”
“Yeah, well, I always finish my jobs.” I cleared my throat, not really one for sentiment. “But don’t make a habit of needing me to save your ass.”
“Sure, Mr. Hughes,” she replied, one corner of her mouth curling into a soft smile as the ship’s engine roared to life. “Whatever you say.”
19
Once the rift closed and we were back in the relative safety of slipspace, I wandered into the galley in search of food. I didn’t rightly care what it was at this point. I just needed to eat something.
Hopefully Calista hadn’t eaten all my instant noodles, because I’d charge her double what they were worth to replace them, just out of spite.
I managed to find some left over that she hadn’t eaten, thankfully, and made quick work of heating them up. I tapped my finger on the counter while I waited, and before long, I had glorious food waiting for me.
Nutritious? No.
Tasty? Also no, but it would be fine. I didn’t need gourmet meals out here in the black.
“Sir,” interjected Sigmond through the comm in my ear as I lifted the first bite to my mouth. “Forgive the intrusion, but I must inform you of an urgent update on our trajectory.”
I groaned. I couldn’t even eat a damn meal in peace anymore. “What is it?”
“Just before we passed into slipspace, my system picked up an anomaly aboard the ship. It took a few minutes to track it down, but—”
“Damn it, Siggy, just spit it out,” I snapped.
“My apologies, sir. The data stick’s scramble has been overridden. I can’t determine how, or by whom, but I am working to get it re-established.”
A jolt of dread shot clear through me.
“Re-established?” I said. “You mean to tell me they’re tracking us right now?”
“Not at this time,” Sigmond replied. “The Renegade Star does not possess the means to transmit any data during slipspace travel.”
Deciding I wanted more than just noodles, I pulled out two slices of bread. “That’s good then. Just get it up before we hit the next SG Point, and everything should be fine.”
“That is not entirely true, Captain, since the coordinates did briefly broadcast before we entered the tunnel.”
Not great, but it wasn’t the worst news, either. “How many Slip Gap Points between here and our next stop?”
“Three. I estimate another nine standard hours of travel.”
“Can you fix it by then?” I asked, already forming a plan.
Whoever had broken through our scramble might have our last location, but they didn’t know where we were headed. If Sigmond could find a way to keep disrupting the trace, our pursuer would have to look in multiple systems to find us. We’d be long gone before they even caught a whiff of us.
“I believe I am up to the task, Captain,” replied the AI.
I nodded. “Good. Keep me updated. And let’s keep this between you and me for now.”
“Understood.”
With that, Sigmond went silent, leaving me to my now lukewarm meal.
“Do I get food?” asked Calista from behind me. “Or do I just have to watch you eat?”
At the sound of Calista’s voice, I looked over to see her standing in the doorway. “You lost?”
She arched a brow and took a step into the lounge. “I’m feeling peckish.”
I didn’t like the idea of a client—especially this client—just roaming around my ship, doing whatever she pleased. “So go be peckish in your quarters, lady. The Star isn’t open for exploring.”
“No can do, Mr. Hughes. I learned my lesson last time you forced me to leave my things in the cargo bay, and this time I brought food up to the kitchen. How else am I supposed to get it?”
I grunted. “Fine. You can stay, just don’t touch my stuff.”
Shrugging, she came in and went to one of the cupboards. “So, you really didn’t know about the artifact trade? Most Renegades do. That’s why I was surprised.”
“You’re not a Renegade yet,” I reminded her.
“Not registered,” she clarified. “I’m a Renegade in every other meaning of the word. Just because I take my contracts as a freelancer doesn’t mean I’m legal. Believe me, I take plenty of off-book jobs.”
“Right,” I said as I took another slurp of noodles and plopped down at the table. “That explains why you don’t have a ship. And why you hired a real Renegade to be your escort.”
The cupboard door banged when she closed it, which told me I was getting under her skin.
She joined me at the table and plunked her own plate down. “I have a ship lined up. I just need the money to get it. Had you not stolen that box from me, I’d have it right now.”
I fanned a hand at her. “It was one job, and it didn’t even pay that well. What you’re doing now pays way better, so who cares if I took that one?”
“It’s not the same,” she said, shaking her head. “That job was supposed to be my in. If I’d completed it, I would have had an agent willing to take me on. Losing that gig lost me my first real opportunity to be Renegade. Going to Pratus and then getting back to Taurus took the last of my credits that weren’t already in savings for the ship. That’s why I took these errands. Thankfully, I had a friend with a lead on the artifact. Without that, I’d have been screwed thanks to you.”
I frowned and looked away. Okay, maybe I did feel the smallest twinge of guilt at her sob story. To be fair, it had been an open contract. It wasn’t hers, and I technically hadn’t done anything wrong. If it had been hers alone, she wouldn’t have had any competition, and I wouldn’t have been there in the first place. It just hadn’t worked out in her favor.
“That’s life,” I eventually said as I took another bite of food. “Full of disappointments, and it doesn’t always go the way you want it to. There’s always someone out there who wants or needs a job as bad as you. Or more. You aren’t guaranteed to finish every job you get, and sometimes others will beat you to it. If you can’t deal with that, don’t take open contracts. Hell, if you can’t take that, you shouldn't become a Renegade.”
Her stony stare didn’t deter me in the least.
“Listen,” she said, leaning forward as she ignored her food. “If these jobs go as planned, I’ll have my ship. Once I get that, there’s no reason for an RBO agent to turn me down. Then I can build a reputation. Within a year, agents will be banging on my door. Just wait.”
I didn’t know about all that. So far, I hadn’t seen anything to convince me this woman could really take care of herself on her own, and it seemed like time to make her see that. “I
f it weren’t for me, would you have left Junae III with that artifact?”
“You’re damn right I would have.” Calista didn’t falter, her features set into firm, confident lines. “You think because you’ve spent a few hours with me that you know me, but you’re wrong.”
“Maybe,” I said with a shrug. Her words were passionate, but I still didn’t buy it. “Maybe not. First time we met, you let me take your gun, after all. If it was so special to you, why was I able to take it?”
She scoffed and stabbed at her food. “Like you care.”
“Try me,” I countered, setting down my fork as I watched her intently. “Maybe we can work something out and you can get it back.”
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I don’t believe you.”
“Fine, suit yourself.” I started to clean up my mess, but she sat up and gestured for me to stop.
“Alright, I’ll tell you,” she snapped. “Just sit.”
I sat back down and motioned for her to continue.
“Have you even looked at it?” she asked, pointing to where the weapon sat on my hip. I’d pulled it out of the locker earlier, just to irritate her.
“Sure,” I said. “It’s a good model, at least. The engraving lowers the value some, but not much. Let me guess, from your boyfriend?”
Calista scoffed at the suggestion. “My mother, but not for me. It was a gift for my father, once upon a time.”
“And he was a Renegade? It looks like he never even used it.”
She looked away, but I still caught the flash of pain. “He never got the chance. She had that made while he was out on his last job. A gift for his birthday.”
A birthday he never made it home for.
She didn’t say the words, but it was clear. My old man hadn’t lived long once he set out to find excitement and wealth in the stars. That was just the way it went sometimes.
“Yeah, that’s rough,” I said after a long pause.
“It is,” she agreed. “Will you give it back?”
I didn’t answer, lost as I was in my own thoughts. My father had also left in search of something bigger than me, and he’d never returned, either.
Calista let out a belabored sigh. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Anyway, that’s the story.”
“So why be a Renegade?” I asked. “Seems to me it would be the last thing you would want.”
Calista finally smiled, her eyes brightening at some memory I couldn’t see. “Wrong again, Mr. Hughes. I want to do what he did, follow in his footsteps.”
I snorted. “Why? So you can prove some point? That you’re better than he was or something? Talk about daddy issues.”
“It’s not what you think,” she said with a light chuckle. “I idolized my father. He always came home with tales of adventure out in the void. It was exciting to me. Still is. I want to live that kind of life. To travel the stars and make my own way. The idea of sitting behind some desk answering comm calls for the rest of my life sounds like a slow, excruciating death.”
I agreed with her there. Working some day job for the rest of my life sounded like a prison sentence. Wearing a suit and tie or pushing a mop, while both honorable means of earning money, would never be for me.
Her words also brought to mind thoughts of my old man. His stories had been the dead illusions of a drunk. He’d never become a Renegade, never even made it out of our home system. I knew something about following in a man’s footsteps only to be disappointed.
“Sir, I have an update.” Sigmond’s voice coming over the ear comm broke into my thoughts of the past and brought me firmly back to the present, for which I was grateful.
“Go ahead,” I said, tapping at the side of my head so Calista would know I wasn’t talking to her.
“I have managed to create a new disruption instance to the data stick. However, I must tell you that during my update, I learned that it is possible that whoever was tracking the signal may have been able to access minimal information from the Star. It might be prudent to choose another exit point.”
I could feel Calista’s eyes on me, watching. She still had no idea that the data stick she passed off to me had never made into the client’s hands. I didn’t want her to know, either. Information could be just as good as credits and I didn’t trust her not to tell Ollie in hopes of leveraging him to be her agent.
“Sir?” Sigmond pressed when I was quiet too long. “What would you like me to do?”
“Stay on course,” I said brusquely. “If anything happens, we’ll deal with it.”
He went quiet again, and I noticed Calista staring at me with perceptive eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing,” I said, moving to clean up the remains of my lunch. “Siggy was just scanning the feeds and noticed someone reported Ravager activity near our final SG Point right before we entered the slip.”
“Oh,” she replied, obviously concerned. “I’ve been lucky enough never to have an encounter with them. Do you think we’ll have to fight?”
“Let’s hope not,” I said, almost feeling bad for lying. “I prefer to avoid them altogether, but the Star can hold her own.”
Calista didn’t look convinced. “We don’t really have a choice, I guess. The SG Point before that is three systems away. We’d be weeks off schedule. The one after is even farther. The client definitely won’t pay if we’re that late.”
“That’s why I told Siggy we’d chance it. Speaking of your client, where are we going now?”
“Eros 7. It’s a moon this time. Pretty small. Owned by one man. Julian Abbott.”
When she mentioned his owning the moon, it finally clicked where I’d heard the name. “Julian Abbot, the trillionaire?”
She shrugged and pulled out her pad. “I’m not sure. Didn’t get a chance to look him up yet.”
“According to the gossip feeds, he has more money than he knows what to do with,” I told her. “He just buys things up then sells them when he gets bored. I’ve heard of Eros 7 before too. It isn’t a private residence, or least it didn’t used to be. Last I knew, it was one big brothel, all set up like some kind of island paradise. A man—or woman—could get whatever they wanted, so long as they had the credits.”
“You sound like someone who knows from experience,” she teased.
“Nah. Never liked the idea of wasting money on something I can get for free. Besides, my tastes don’t run to the kind of things that go on at Pleasure Island.”
“Maybe he’s cleaned it up,” Calista said hopefully. “Could be he just wanted a private resort all to himself.”
“Sure,” I said, though I didn’t believe it. “Is it a pickup or delivery?”
“Delivery. He’s the one getting the artifact. Too bad there was only one left on Roh. The contract would have been doubled if there had been more. I’ve been monitoring the forums on relics, and it seems competition has been heating up for them. Some church in Arcadia is buying them by the crateful.”
“Arcadia?” I flipped through my mental files and came up blank. “Can’t say I’ve ever been there.”
Calista shrugged. “Not much reason to go there unless you want to join a cult. Here, look.” She used her pad to bring up data on the lounge’s holo.
“Church of the Homeworld. A religious sect, founded by Darius Clare,” I read. “So what? There are plenty of religions scattered throughout the galaxy. A lot of them are rich too.”
“Yeah, but how many of them believe in Earth?”
I frowned. “As in… ah, I get it. Church of the Homeworld.”
“Right. They think it’s real. There’s nothing to back it up, but my theory is they think the relics are important somehow. Maybe even came from there. Impossible, obviously, but they pay just as much, and more than some of the other collectors. I guess they lost out this time.”
“Guess so,” I muttered, still reading the data.
One thing was for certain. I was going to have to up my game if I wanted to earn more cash. If these artifacts paid as much
as Calista claimed, they’d be worth my time. I made a mental note to have Ollie start looking for jobs like that.
For now, I had to help Calista deliver hers.
20
I was tense as the rift opened and we exited out into the vast emptiness of normal space. To my relief, no one waited for us. As far as I could tell, we were in the clear.
“Siggy, give me an update.”
“We have arrived in the Bacchus System,” Sigmond informed. “The private estate Eros 7 is less than one standard hour away.”
“That’s closer than I expected,” I mused. “Once we hit the halfway point, let them know we’re en route.”
“Noted, Captain. Would you like to hear additional information about the system?”
I thought it over then shook my head. “No thanks. Just make sure you have the next destination charted and know all possible exit strategies. If something comes up, I want to have a few ways out.”
“Of course—” Sigmond cut himself off, a sign that something had happened. Before I could ask him what, he was back. “Sir, there is an incoming transmission from Bacchus Police and Security.”
I swore under my breath. “Put them through, but hold video then tell Calista I said to get her ass up here.”
“Transmission connecting now.”
I waited for the person on the other end to come through.
“This is Private Officer Parker of the Bacchus Police and Security Department,” a crisp female voice announced. “You are now in private airspace. Please identify yourself and state your business with Mr. Abbott.”
“Hold on a second, sister,” I said, putting up my hands even though the woman couldn’t see me. “How the hell did you know who I was here to see?”
There was a slight pause, then the officer spoke again. “He owns the whole damn system. Plus, you’re not on the log, which tells me that you have some business that the big man doesn’t want on official records.”
Now it was my turn to hesitate. I muted the comm as Calista came in, her brow furrowed in concern. “You got some kind of paperwork for this drop off?”