by Rachel Aukes
Reyne headed back to his seat. After he sat down, he fought the urge to shake the adrenaline from his trembling hands. He stared at his panel. “Hey, Demes, what’s your job on Critch’s crew?”
“I’m a tech.”
“A tech,” Reyne echoed. “Great.”
Great. Reyne had assumed Demes was a hired gun to watch over the torrent recruiters, but Critch had put a hacker on board, which meant that Critch had wanted his man sniffing around the Gryphon’s systems. No wonder Demes hung out on the bridge rather than near the cargo bay. Reyne’s guess was that this run was as much about Critch learning about the Gryphon and her crew as it was getting torrent recruiters delivered to Sol Base.
“I’m receiving a distress signal from Sol Base,” Throttle announced.
“Put it on speakers,” Reyne ordered.
Sol Base is in a state of medical emergency and requires immediate assistance. An unknown airborne agent has been detected at the station and is spreading outward. Genetic makeup of the agent is included in this message. This message will repeat.
“I’m linking with the station’s cams now,” Demes said in a rush.
As the message repeated, the view screen switched from the ship’s forward path to various video feeds from the surface of Sol Base. Every feed was the same. Bodies of humans, animals, and birds lay strewn across the ground, all covered in a gray dust. Food carts and vehicles sat still. Everything was a muted gray except for the large view screens that still played vibrant advertisements. It was though life stopped in a single second, all suffocated within a cloud of death.
Throttle’s lips parted. “Oh, no.”
Reyne’s heart froze. “They’ve been hit by the blight.”
Chapter Twelve
Deadly Pursuits
“Get us out of here, Throttle. Make it fast,” Reyne ordered.
“Good idea,” she said numbly.
“The CUF will be all over Sol Base soon, if they’re not there already,” he added. “And I guarantee any runners in the area will be docked and checked.”
“Where do we go?” she asked.
“The Coast will be the safest place,” Demes offered.
“He’s right. Set a course for Nova Colony,” Reyne said.
“Oh, shit,” she said. “Too late. We’ve been flagged by a CUF ship.”
“On the speakers,” he commanded.
“Fringe hauler Playa-Seven-Five-Five-One-Bravo, this is the Collective Unified Forces frigate Nautilus. You are hereby ordered to dock at port Five. You have five minutes to comply. If you show any signs of noncompliance, you will be fired upon. Respond within sixty seconds, and convey ship logs and crew list.”
“What do we do now?” Throttle asked.
Reyne’s lips thinned. “We do what runners do. We run.”
Demes let out a whoop.
Throttle’s eyes widened. “We can’t outrun a frigate.”
Reyne shook his head. “Chances are, the Nautilus has most of her docks full with runners right now. They can’t make jump speed without first releasing or battening down any ships in their docks.”
She frantically worked at her panel, while Reyne transmitted static back to the Nautilus. “There, that ought to have them scratching their heads for a minute or two.” He then broadcast to the entire ship. “Strap in and hold on. Things are going to get downright bumpy.”
Demes watched Reyne for a moment, and his lips curled up. “You might not make a bad pirate after all.”
“I’m a torrent, not a pirate,” the runner snapped back. “And figure out a way to jam that damn tracker.”
“I’m closing the solar sails now,” Throttle said. “And powering up the Flux.”
Reyne pulled up the grids around Darios and found the location of the Nautilus. It was one of five frigates over Sol Base. Fortunately, nothing the size of a warship.
“The Nautilus is dispatching drones,” Demes called out.
With no time to get Sixx on the bridge, Reyne had to turn to Demes. “Are you familiar with Class Five photon guns?”
Demes grinned. “Of course.”
“You take forward guns, I’ll take aft. Do not fire until I give the order. We can’t fire unless we are out of all other options. The instant we show we have firepower, they’ll send the whole damn fleet after us.”
“Can I use the phase cannon?”
“Why does everyone want to use the damn cannon?” he muttered, before adding. “No, stick with the guns.”
“Throttle, tell me you’ll have us to jump speed before the drones get within range,” Reyne said.”
“Only a few more seconds. Powering up jump shields now.”
“Only a few more seconds, and the drones will be in range,” Demes said.
Reyne ignored the Nautilus’ hails and watched the drones approach on the grid. “They’re eight-fifty clicks out. Hurry, Throttle.”
“Double-checking coordinates now.”
“You’re double-checking?” Demes asked. “There are drones flying over here to blast us with an EMP.”
“You’d rather we fly into an asteroid or star swarm?” she snapped back. “There. Got it.”
Reyne’s heart pounded. “Four hundred clicks out.”
Throttle furiously worked the controls. “Okay. Retract the guns. I’m hitting jump in three, two, one. Go!”
The gun bay lights flashed green at the same time the Gryphon hummed and shot forward. Sound and vibration merged into one. Reyne found himself plastered against his seat, unable to inhale.
Seconds later, everything stabilized. He immediately began running scans for any chasers. Seeing nothing, Reyne relaxed.
“Throttle, I’d like to have wild sex with you right now,” Demes said.
“Hey,” Reyne snapped around. “That’s my daughter you’re talking to.”
“Sorry,” he said, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “Throttle, I’d like to take you on a date to my room right now.”
Throttle laughed. “I can’t believe we outran a warship.”
Reyne breathed deeply. “And I’m glad we pulled it off. We have fifteen torrents in the cargo bay, a fully armed gunship, and I imagine Demes here is wanted on all six planets.”
“True. I am a wanted man,” the young pirate concurred.
Reyne contemplated for a moment. “Demes, you’re a tech.”
“Yeah.”
“Can you get an untraceable message out to all the fringe stations?”
“Sure.”
He walked over to Demes and pulled up images of the package he’d pulled from the Myrad hauler. “We need to tell them what happened at Sol Base and that the same thing could happen to them. Tell them the blight would come in a package that looks something like this and could be delivered from Genics Corp or any one of its subsidiaries.” He pointed to the image.
“How do you know all this?” Demes asked.
“We were hired to deliver the blight meant for Ice Port.”
“Oh.”
Reyne left the bridge and made rounds to check on everyone and everything. Fortunately, the only injury was a sprained wrist on a torrent who hadn’t strapped himself down in time for the jump. Reyne left him with Doc and returned to the bridge.
As he entered, Demes announced, “I’m finished. A message has been sent to all fringe stations as well as Nova Colony.”
Reyne took a deep breath. “Well done. Let’s hope it reaches them all in time for them to ramp up security at their docks.”
Throttle wheeled backward. “We’ll drop out of jump speed in three hours. I’m going to grab a quick bite.”
Demes raised his hand. “Grab me some grub while you’re at it, sweets.”
She mock-saluted him as she wheeled off the bridge.
Reyne leaned back and watched the stars shoot by.
“Um.” Demes broke the silence. “I have some good news and bad news.”
Reyne turned. “What’s the bad news?”
“The CUF has put out immediate
cease-and-desist orders to all fringe runners. Looks like every runner has been put on their terrorist watch list.”
“That’s no surprise. It’s not like they can pin the blame on citizens,” Reyne said drily. “And the good news?”
“I lied. It’s all bad news. I can’t jam the tracker from here. Someone’s going to have to go outside to do it.”
“Which we can’t do at jump speed.” Reyne rubbed his temples. “We’ll get it as soon as we dock. In the meantime, I need you to send an encrypted message to Critch. Tell him the run’s been cancelled. We’re heading back, with cargo still on board.”
Demes began typing. “Sending it now. And…” Demes dramatically tapped the panel. “Message sent.”
Demes leaned back. “You know, I don’t think he likes you very much.”
“No, he doesn’t. I think he’d like to kill me.”
“I think you’re right.” He hesitated before continuing. “Why’d you do it?”
“I didn’t.”
Demes chuckled. “Critch said you’d say that.” Demes shuffled. “Incoming response from Critch.”
“What does it say?”
“More bad news. Seems like many runners had the same idea to head to the coast. The CUF has sent an armada to block entry to the Coast. Sounds like they’re taking the ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ approach. He said to coming to the Coast is a bad idea.”
“Shit.” Reyne punched in the controls to drop them out of jump speed so he could change course.
“What are you going to do?”
“We’re heading to Ice Port.”
“Is that safe?”
“No, but I know somewhere we can hide.”
“Send a message to Vym,” Reyne said. “Tell her she’s about to get her hands dirty.”
Chapter Thirteen
Toxic Complications
“Sol Base has fallen to the blight,” Heid said to Sebin.
“Sol Base?” Sebin’s eyes grew wide. “But, cutting off the food supply cripples everyone, including Myr.”
“Mason believes they chose Sol Base after the Myr moon attack for that reason. No one would believe Myr is behind something so horrendous. All eyes will be turned on fanatics, so that when Myr offers the fungicide in exchange for full control of Darios, and no one will try to stop them.”
“But, the entire Collective depends on Darios for food.”
“And so Myr will win without having to fight a single battle.”
He shook her head sadly. “We’ll be forced to give into Myr’s demands or else starve.”
She clenched her eyes shut.
Sebin wrapped his arms around her, and she looked up to see the concern in his gaze. He ran a hand down her cheek. “You’re not in this fight alone. You’re never alone.”
She forced a weak smile. “You’re right. Darios may be lost, but the Collective isn’t lost yet.”
“We’ll find a way,” he said. “We’ve worked too hard and too long for peace to not believe it can happen. We won’t fail. We can’t fail.”
She found a weight lifted inside her as his confidence filled her.
“You saw the message,” he continued. “Mason has been meeting with Mariner and Aeronaut. They’ll figure out something.”
“Let’s hope they figure out something soon.” She took a step back. “I’ve been unable to reach Seamstress. Communications are being jammed by CUF drones around Ice Port.”
He frowned. “Who would quarantine Ice Port?”
She grimaced, as though even saying the name brought a sour taste to her lips. “None other than Corps General Ausyar himself.”
He stood aghast at the mention of the much-feared Myrad who was the head of the entire CUF fleet. “Why?”
She nodded grimly. “It seems that Myr has chosen the least valuable of the fringe worlds as a convenient scapegoat for the blight. Those colonists have always been the most vocal and fanatical of the fringe. They’re reputation, coupled with the fact that Play has never been in the black, financially speaking, Mason believes Myr is setting the stage to cut Playa free from the new Collective.”
“Those colonists will never survive without imports from the other worlds.”
Heid continued. “It gets far worse for us, I’m afraid. Ausyar is announcing tonight that he’s pulling the entire fleet together. All Alluvian senior officers are being retired or reassigned.”
Sebin’s jaw dropped. “That’s impossible. That’s not within his power. Our people will never stand for it. Parliament would never reach the two-thirds majority vote needed to allow him to do such a thing.”
“You’re wrong. It seems that Parliament has already granted Ausyar’s increase in power. It’s safe to say Parliament is a no longer viable entity, and the CUF is now serving Myr’s interests. Even now, Mason is still preaching a conservative approach. He’s been cautioning Alluvia to not be hasty in its response to Ausyar’s demands.”
“Because he doesn’t want to see Alluvians die,” he said.
She smirked. “Or, perhaps he’s working with Ausyar to clear the playing field.”
“Why would he do such a thing?”
“He’s always craved power.”
Sebin frowned. “He’s a Founder. He would never go against the cause for his personal gain.”
“Hm.”
“You don’t believe that?”
She forced a smile. “You know me. I’m a lifelong skeptic.”
He smiled back. “Yes. I do know you.” His smile faded. “What will happen to you under Ausyar’s changes?”
“The Arcadia remains under my command until we connect with the fleet in three days, at which time, I relinquish command to First Officer Franklin Laciam.”
He clenched his fists. “This is bullshit. We can’t stand for this.”
“Unfortunately, Mason and I rarely see eye to eye. He’s made it clear that I continue serving the CUF as directed by Ausyar. He believes that if I refuse to give up my command, I could undermine his efforts and unravel the few remaining threads holding the Collective together.”
“But if you lose the Arcadia…”
Heid crossed her arms over her chest. “There’s no way in hell I’m giving up the Arcadia.”
Chapter Fourteen
Haunted Visions
“I have some more bad news,” Demes said as they neared Playa’s orbit.
“Do you ever have good news?” Reyne asked.
“Plenty of times. Just not when it comes to you.”
Reyne sighed. “What have you got?”
“The message never got through to Vym. The CUF’s quarantined Ice Port. Oh hey, I do have some good news.”
“And that would be?”
“No CUF ships are in orbit. Looks like a patroller dropped off a drone blockade and left. But, there are dozens of the little buggers out there.”
“You call that good news?”
Demes shrugged. “Drones are easy to sneak by. They sense power readings. All we have to do is power down everything and sail right on by them.”
“One problem with that,” Reyne said. “We still have a tracker transmitting outside the ship. Even if we powered down, it will still transmit. If the drones pick up that reading, they’ll turn their EMP blasters on us.”
“Uh oh,” Demes said, no longer paying any attention to either Reyne or Throttle. “We’ve got bigger problems than the drones. A warship is dropping out of jump speed. They’re flagging us now.”
“Ignore them,” Reyne said. “Wait, which ship is it?”
“It’s the Trinity. The CUF’s very finest.”
“Definitely ignore them.”
“Like there’s a CUF warship you’d want to talk to?” Demes asked.
Reyne scrambled to pull up the ship’s location on his panel. “Throttle, how much juice do we have?”
“Not enough to enter jump speed again.”
“I was afraid of that. Looks like we’re heading down to the surface. Throttle, keep jump shie
lds up and take us down the approach path as fast as you can.”
“Are you crazy? The drones will blast us with EMPs,” Demes said. “We’ll be dead in the water if we try to fly past them with power.”
“I have a hunch they won’t,” Reyne said. “Throttle, remember flying down Tulan Canyon?”
“Sure, why?”
“I need you to bring us right over the space dock and then keep us low as you take us down the canyon. We need the Trinity to think we’ve docked at Ice Port.”
Throttle snapped around. “The canyon? I—yeah, I can do that, but the Gryphon is a spaceship, not an airplane. She’ll fly like a rock once we hit the atmo.”
“I know. You won’t have to fly in the atmo for long. I’m entering the canyon landing coordinates now.”
Her eyes grew even wider. “We can’t land in the canyon. We need a long runway or at least landing grapples. We’ll crash.”
“Just focus on getting us to the canyon,” Reyne said. “I’ll guide you from there.”
“I’m with Throttle,” Demes said. “If we don’t die in a fiery crash at the space docks—which in all likelihood is going to happen—without a launch pad to help us break gravity, the Gryphon is just big hunk of metal sitting on the surface of a shithole planet that I’d prefer not to live out my days on.”
“Hey, Playa is my home,” Reyne countered.
“We’re coming up on the drones now,” Throttle interrupted.
“The Trinity is arming her photon guns,” Demes said.
Reyne watched as they cut in between a wide blanket of drones. The drones transmitted instructions—his instrument panel was aglow with warnings, but no EMPs came—and Throttle continued forward.
The Trinity fired a warning shot across the Gryphon’s bow.
“Shit!” Throttle snapped around to see the blast.
“Keep going,” Reyne said.
“They’re going to kill us,” Demes said. “We should use the phase cannon to—”
“Don’t you touch that cannon.” Reyne wagged a finger at Demes. “What is it with everyone and the cannon?”
A second shot fired, this one even closer, and Reyne found himself gripping the panel. “Just keep going, Throttle.”