by Drew Avera
“What is it?” Stavis asked, stopping what she was doing to move closer to him.
“There’s a small gap between these panels behind the sink. I didn’t notice it before.”
“Can you pry it apart?” Stavis’s voice chimed with a glimmer of much needed hope.
“It’s not wide enough to get my fingertips in, but if I had something to pry it with…”
“Use this, sir,” the guard said, handing over a small prybar. Ilium took it and frowned, thinking it too might be too wide to fit.
“Hopefully,” he said, leaning against the bulkhead to try and get more leverage as he placed the thinnest edge of the bar into the gap. He sighed in relief as enough fit in the hold to get a bite. When he pried the panel, a smile etched on his face, a mixture of happiness and relief. Just on the other side of the bulkhead was what they searched for. “I have it!”
“By the gods,” Stavis whispered. “Now, we need to get it out of that hole and figure out how to disable it.”
The guard stepped forward. “Let me help with that,” he said, leaning over and grabbing enough of the panel with both hands to rip it right off the bulkhead, creating a large enough hole for Ilium to reach in and snatch the device.
“I’ve got it,” he said, groaning under the weight of it as he awkwardly pulled it out of the hole. “But I don’t know what the hell to do with it. Do you want to take a crack at it?”
“I may as well,” Stavis replied before looking to the guard. “Go alert the CoS we found it and need someone up here who knows how to disable these kinds of devices.”
“Aye, sir,” he replied, jogging out of the stateroom holding his red-hued light in front of him to see.
Stavis examined the device closer, running her fingers along the exposed wiring and mumbling to herself.
“Do you know how to turn it off?” Ilium asked.
“No, maybe if I thought to look it over more closely then I could have figured it out before the lights went out, but all of the wires look the same color with this red light.”
“Maybe the light from my personal com-unit would help,” Ilium said, jumping up and moving to a set of drawers to pull out his carry-on bag. After a minute or two of digging around for it, he pulled the com-unit from the bag and powered it on. “How about this?”
A white light fell on the device and showed the contrast of color on the wiring insulation. Being able to make out the details of the device made it look less mysterious to Ilium and he hoped the same was true for her.
“It’s hard to say because some wires don’t appear to go anywhere important, like maybe they’re a diversion for how the circuit works. I’m nervous to try anything in case it causes further damage.”
“Like a bomb?” Ilium asked.
She looked him in the eye and answered. “Exactly.”
Twelve
Crase
Crase was greeted with the dank scent of unkempt warship as he boarded the Pilatian cruiser. The Eruga was equipped with two airlocks, the ship could have stood to air out before use, but for all he knew, Poko obtained it recently and was trying to flip it. The desperate couldn’t be choosers when dealing on the black market.
“Mr. Tuin,” a man said from the other side of the cluttered space.
He turned to see a squat man, white-skinned and Greshian. “Yeah.”
“My name is Esma and I believe we have a mutual acquaintance. Haranger.”
Crase groaned at the name. Acquaintance didn’t begin to describe Haranger. He was like a disease that kept popping up. “All right. Are you coming on the trip?”
Esma nodded. “I was sent here in hopes that you could deal with Haranger’s problem after I help you with yours.”
Crase’s jaw clenched tighter. “I don’t deal with Haranger anymore. Sorry.” He turned to head for the bridge before he realized he was heading the wrong direction. After a deep breath, he moved towards Esma, stopping where the Greshian blocked the way.
“Unfortunately, Haranger isn’t done with you, Mr. Tuin. I was given explicit instructions to see to it you comply with his request.” The formality of his words mixed with his tone sent a chill down Crase’s spine.
“What’s the target?”
“That’s need to know and right now, you don’t need to know,” Esma replied.
“Fine, brief me after I have my ship back. Having two ships at my disposal should make short work of whatever job he has for me. If you’ll excuse me, I have to prepare this ship.”
Esma moved ever so slightly to the side, giving Crase just enough room to brush past him. As they came shoulder to shoulder, Esma spoke again. “Haranger asked that I give you motivation not to cross him. You’ll see a video message waiting for you on the bridge.”
“What kind of message?” Crase asked.
A smirk stretched across the Greshian’s face. “That’s need to know.”
Fuck you, Crase thought as he took another step forward. His heart beat madly as he entered the bridge to see a cracked monitor paused with Tesera’s image on it. Next to her, another Greshian man, one of Haranger’s bitches no doubt, stood with a knife next to her throat. He didn’t have to watch the video to know the message. It was loud and clear.
“Play video,” he barked. Immediately, the monitor began playback. Tesera’s muffled cries preceded the man’s words.
“Mr. Tuin, I’m sorry I’m unable to meet you, but as you can see, I’m otherwise preoccupied. Haranger sends his regards and would like to hire you for a brief mission. To show good favor, he has instructed Poko to see to it that we aid you in your personal mission. A crew of six will join you before rendezvousing with a ship containing the target. We still have some intel to sift through before the details are revealed, but it is paramount that you secure the Replicade because you will be going against a ship with massive firepower.
“Haranger is aware that you are trying to distance yourself from him, and knows you like to scurry out of your responsibilities when it is convenient for you. That is why I will be keeping Tesera company. If you run, she dies. If you choose to not help our employer, she dies. And if you sabotage your mission thinking it will result in her freedom, she dies.
“As you can see, anything other than success on your part, results in a bleak future for the good doctor.
“I trust you will make the right decision for someone other than yourself this time. Otherwise,” he paused and leaned towards Tesera, the knife to her throat closing in on her flesh. A stifled yelp accompanied the draw of blood as the blade nudged her. the man looked back at the camera. “I think you know what will happen and I will take my time.”
The video cut off and Crase slammed his fists onto the console of the Pilatian ship. The sound of metal falling to the deck echoed in the tiny bridge as the feeling of defeat clouded his mind. he stood there for several moments in deathly silence. He had no guarantee for Tesera’s safety, yet he knew if he acted out then he sealed her death.
This was precisely why she did not want him in this business any longer. Maybe not for her own wellbeing, but for his. Instead, his decision affected them both.
“I suppose you know now,” Esma said smugly behind him.
Crase turned to face the shorter man. “If anything happens to her, I’ll kill every last one of you.”
Esma chuckled. “If anything happens to her, you’ll be next.” Their eyes bore into each other. “Why don’t you cut the shit, Crase and prepare the ship for launch?”
The audacity of the man coming onto the bridge and barking orders at him made Crase’s stomach turn. He’d been in the game long enough to see some despicable individuals, but it seemed the parameters of what constituted those kinds of people was constantly expanding.
“Fine, have your men close the airlock as I prepare the bridge. Let me know when everyone is strapped in,” Crase said coldly. He fought to remove his emotions from the situation and treat it like any other job; a task made more difficult with the image of Tesera with a knife to her thr
oat replaying in his mind.
“All right, I’ll be back,” Esma said, a stoic smirk on his face as he turned to leave.
The idea of reaching down, grabbing his weapon, and scorching a hole through the bastards back was tempting, but if Haranger was able to get to him on Farax, then there was no where he could run for long before the asshole found him again. It’s better to let this play out and see where it goes, he thought as he ground his teeth nervously.
I can always track him down and kill him later.
Thirteen
Gen-Taiku
“If they’re not willing to help us, then that ship must be destroyed,” General Nara said, pounding his fist on the table. Even sitting across the table from him, Gen felt the heat radiating from his body as anger coursed through him. “I should send you back tonight with enough explosives to send it back into orbit.”
“General, I think Gen is right. The people on that ship are not military. The man she encountered is from a world destroyed by Greshia. I don’t think they will do anything to aid Herma in her power grab,” Captain Tushia replied, his voice low and respectful. She could see the dismay in the younger man’s eyes at the willingness for their General to move straight into an assault, but she also knew what all-out war would do to the remnant of Pilatians. Extinction was not an option.
“I have plans to visit the ship tomorrow and I will discuss our concerns and request their help. I will plead if I have to,” Gen said, interrupting the scowl etched on General Nara’s face.
“And if you can’t convince them?” Tushia asked, taking the General’s side. It was an obvious attempt at soothing the older man’s ego and win him over to the collaborated plan between Tushia and Gen, and she approved. Anything to try and secure a warship for their uses.
“I’ll take a team with explosives and we’ll launch her back to where she came from…in pieces.”
“You’re damned right we will,” General Nara said, pounding the desk again. “Carry out the plan, but maintain radio contact in some way. I don’t want to lose my best soldier due to a lack of communication.”
“The ship has an AI on board. I think it may be capable of jamming radio signals if any are detected. It may be best to have someone on surveillance instead. They can monitor the ship’s movements and be nearby if anything runs afoul.”
“Do you expect anything of that nature to occur?” Tushia asked.
“No, sir. I expect to present my case about needing their help and receiving it, or convincing them to leave peacefully. As I stated before, this is a military grade ship, but not a military crew.” She crossed her arms, thinking about Pilot’s unwillingness to help the rebellion, but the AI’s decision to keep her from being caught by the guards showed compassion. If that was a trait shared on the ship, then she felt confident in her mission.
“Very well, you’re dismissed,” General Nara said.
Gen rose and stood at attention. “Thank you, sir,” she replied with a swift salute.
He returned it casually before turning his attention to the next matter. As Gen left the briefing room, she thought about all the times she felt confident in their successes before, but returned defeated. The small rebellion was lucky in the fact not many were killed, but protests were a vehicle of peaceful resistance.
What would happen if Princess Herma turned against them in violence? That was the thought which kept her up most nights.
“Hey, Gen, how was the outside world?” Bewra asked as he stepped out from around a corner where he obviously waited for her.
“I saw the sun for the first time in a few weeks. I was also held prisoner on a ship by an AI, so you know, everything evens out from a wholly neutral experience.” She laughed at the fact now, but fear was a real thing after waking on the ship and realizing what happened.
“Sounds amazing. I haven’t seen the sun or stars in so long I’m not sure they even exist anymore.”
Gen smiled, “Spoken like a true survivor of the great war, my friend.”
Bewra took hold of her hand. “You know, the question still lingers in my heart every day.”
Gen sighed, hating how their conversation always came back to this. “I gave you my answer. I’m not looking for a relationship in midst of a rebellion. But if we find peace and restore our world, then I would be more than happy to discuss this with you.” She felt bad turning him down, but growing attached to someone whose life was in imminent danger felt like a mistake. She had seen enough loss to last a lifetime and guarding her heart was the only way to ensure she wouldn’t suffer unnecessarily ever again.
“You say that all the time.”
“Because I mean it,” she replied.
“And what if peace never happens?” Bewra looked towards the floor, a look of emotional defeat on his face.
She gripped his hand tighter, drawing his attention back to her. “Then this never happens. I’m sorry, but I won’t change my mind. I can’t allow myself to grow attached to someone and then lose them. It would be like losing my family all over again.”
“I know,” Bewra said. “I understand. let me get back to work, all right?”
“Sure,” Gen said, feeling him pull away from her and walking down the long, narrow corridor of their underground base.
I wish there a way to be happy here without the threat of losing everything all over again, she thought, but perhaps we will find hope in a future soon.
Fourteen
Brendle
He woke with a start, his groggy eyes taking note of several people in Anki’s room whom he did not recognize. As he wiped the haze away, he noticed two men helping Anki out of bed. “What’s going on?”
“Physical therapy. She’s been conscious for a day and her vitals are strong. We want to rehabilitate her as quickly as possible to fight the effects of any atrophy which may have occurred,” a woman doctor said with a smile on her face. Brendle did not know if it was a mask she wore or if she genuinely loved her job that much. Either way, her stone-hard smile unsettled him.
“Do I need to do anything?”
“No, you’re fine,” Anki said coldly; her tone a reminder of her resentment towards him. He did not need the reminder, though. He dreamed about it the night before.
“We’re just going to walk the floor and return her to bed. I don’t want to wear her out on the first outing.” The doctor turned her attention back to Anki and placed her hands on her hips as she bent to look her in the face. “Are you ready?”
“Sure, let’s get this over with,” Anki replied. She groaned as the men pulled her from the bed, allowing her legs to support her weight. Brendle watched, eyes wide as her legs wobbled under the strain of supporting her. The last time she walked was in low-g on the ship. She’s not used to gravity, he thought. After a few moments, she seemed to have control of her legs and stood upright.
“Steady now, let me know when you’re ready to take your first step.” The doctor straightened, scanning over Anki’s posture and vitals, still with her hands on her hips authoritatively. “Remember, we’re not trying to break any records. I just want you to circle this floor and return to bed, all right?”
“I’m ready,” Anki replied, one hand touching the bandage on the side of her head. Brendle noticed more resiliency in her voice, but it was unclear if it was anger or determination fueling it. Perhaps both, he thought.
“Great, these guys are just here to keep you from falling.” The doctor moved closer to the door and held it open, her face an expression of encouragement. “Take a step when you’re ready and they’ll follow you. You can trust them not to drop you.”
“It’s nice to have someone I can trust,” Anki replied. Her words tore into Brendle’s skin, causing his guilt to burn more. No matter how he tried to justify his actions, it seemed he would never get everyone’s full support on assisting Princess Herma, but there was no backing out.
He watched as Anki walked slowly, one foot before the other until she was out of the room and he was alone. Part
of him wanted to follow, but the other part knew his presence wasn’t welcomed. At least not at the moment.
As he stood in the stoic silence of the room, he looked at the time and realized it was later than he thought. With a meeting scheduled, he did not want to be late. He reached down and grabbed his jacket, carrying it out in his hands. Brendle thought about leaving a note, but he knew that would just antagonize Anki more. She knew what he was doing.
“How do I get myself in so deep?” He walked away, leaving the room behind and forcing himself to think positively about the future. He just hoped Deis and Malikea were on the ship with the lists of supplies needed. A setback would be worse because he would feel under Herma’s thumb for longer. He just wanted to get this mission over with and continue with his life. Once Anki realizes we did not attack anyone to preserve peace, she will understand I made the right choice.
Leaving the Medical Center greeted him with a warm, whipping breeze. His hair blew into his face, evidence of grooming neglect after so many months on the ship. It was Anki’s encouragement that drew him to keeping the hairs long to set him apart from his military background. She said it softened him. It was not something he was sure he agreed with, but looking in the mirror became easier as he no longer stared at an image of who he once was as a Greshian naval officer.
He turned right on the nearby street and found the driver Princess Herma sent. The man was Pilatian, and he was early, which was something Brendle respected. “Good morning, sir,” the driver said, his voice kind, but his glare off-putting.
“Good morning,” Brendle replied, climbing into the back seat; startled to find he was not alone. He paused before settling in, “Pedero?”
“Mr. Quinn,” she said with a sideways smirk.