Centauri Bliss

Home > Other > Centauri Bliss > Page 1
Centauri Bliss Page 1

by Skyler Grant




  Centauri Bliss

  Skyler Grant

  Copyright © 2018 Skyler Grant

  All rights reserved.

  This novel is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously, or are entirely fictional.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, except by an authorized retailer, or with written permission of the publisher. Inquiries may be addressed via email to [email protected]

  Cover designed by Ivan Tao

  Editing Polgarus Studio (www.polgarusstudio.com)

  Electronic edition, 2018

  If you want to be notified of future releases from Skyler Grant and get the occasional goodie and free story please sign up for my mailing list here

  I hate spam as much as you do. Your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Also by Skyler Grant

  Afterword

  1

  “This is a really bad plan, sir,” Taki said. She sounded more than just dismayed.

  The shuttle vibrated underfoot, the air wavy from the heat of the shuttle’s recent atmospheric entry. It was currently zipping along at 300 knots, the landscape below a brownish-green patchwork of farms.

  Quinn checked his wrist. A timer counted down and was rapidly nearing four minutes.

  “It was your plan,” Quinn said in disbelief as he knelt down, pulling a thick box from his belt and attaching several wires to a keypad near the shuttle’s top hatch.

  “Thought you’d talk it out of me, sir. You’re the captain, you’re supposed to be the sensible one,” Taki said.

  The box beeped, a green light starting to flash. That was one, five to go.

  “We weren’t going to have another chance. Four minutes from the border,” Quinn said.

  Two lights. Three. The shuttle rocked violently as it hit some turbulence and without their magnetic boots Quinn and Taki would have been thrown clear off the hull. Even with them it was still a tooth-rattling moment.

  “I should have just let you blow it,” Taki said.

  “We blow it, they’d know we were out here,” Quinn said.

  The plan was a simple one. Ships arriving in orbit made immediately for the refueling station, launching any shuttles going to the surface along the way. Not that there were many. The colonization wave had passed and these days the only person on this sad little moon who could afford luxuries from off-world was Fendric Price, the governor.

  A shuttle coming from orbit had roughly five minutes between entering the atmosphere and reaching the border of his lands where sensors would detect any strange anomalies—such as two extra passengers on the outside hull of the craft and trying to break in.

  It wasn’t considered a security risk, not really. You’d have to be insane to try robbing a shuttle in flight during those five minutes.

  Six lights. The box beeped once more.

  “Clear,” Quinn said.

  Taki reached down to grab the hatch handle and pulled. It wasn’t large, designed as an emergency exit and not meant for transferring cargo. They weren’t here for anything large.

  Quinn slapped down a pair of braces once the hatch was open, holding it in place. Grooves in an interior wall served as a ladder and the two made their way down to the shuttle deck.

  Running a light over the interior revealed two rows of crates piled high, filling almost the entire cargo bay.

  “This is more than we were expecting, sir,” Taki said.

  Three minutes, they had to make this quick.

  “Find out if there is anything else worth taking. I’m going in search of the parts,” Quinn said.

  It was supposed to be a smaller crate, LDZ-1481. There weren’t many that size. Mostly the colony was getting shipments of essentials from the Empire and they came packaged large. Quinn found it secured beneath a strap atop a tall crate. He worked it free.

  “Sir, I’ve got something, but you’re not going to like it,” Taki said.

  Two minutes thirty.

  “Tell me,” Quinn said.

  “Seeds, sir. Modified and fertile. Shipment marked yearly stage sixteen of twenty for the colony,” Taki said.

  Colonizing a planet or even a moon was tough work, but the Empire was usually willing to help the enterprising. With the proper engineering, sustainable crops suited to the local environment could be grown, but sometimes that took a while to get right. Unfertile seeds would work for a single generation.

  The moon below had been using them for twenty years, the farmers deeply dependent on the governor for their very survival.

  “Bastard has had them this whole time?” Quinn asked.

  “Looks that way. We’ll never get them out the hatch,” Taki said.

  Those seeds would mean everything for the farmers, not that they had much to give in exchange. Settler grants might give one a farmstead, but when dependent on the governor for the seeds to make that land fertile it made them more serfs than landowners.

  “Well, since you came up with the last plan, I figure you’ve got a reputation to maintain. What stupid thing are we going to do to get those out of here?” Quinn said.

  Taki paced, her expression hidden by the thick goggles she wore. Both Taki and Quinn were heavily bundled up for the conditions, wearing dusty brown atmospheric suits and helmets along with goggles.

  “Nothing, sir. We’re short on time and the whole point of this mission was to get those parts and to do it quietly. We screw things up at this point, we blow the plan.”

  “What about the main hatch? We open it up and have Melody fly up in the Kathryn, and we dump the cargo right in,” Quinn said.

  “By the time you’ve opened that hatch we’ll be across the border and we’ll be swarmed before we can do anything. I don’t know if you want to play the hero or just wanting to get paid, but we don’t have the time,” Taki said.

  “We crash the shuttle,” Quinn said.

  “And I thought your last plan was bad,” Taki said.

  “Your last plan was bad, my current plan is brilliant. We bring it down outside the border and we’ll buy ourselves a few extra minutes until they worry enough to come looking for it.”

  “Assuming, sir, nobody sees us go down and calls it in.”

  Quinn moved towards the rear of the shuttle, looking over the walls. Imperial designs tended to be standard. There, a conduit on a wall and beneath it a removable panel. Quinn pulled it away and studied the circuitry. Finding it was one thing, understanding it was something else.

  Quinn hit his comm. “Mel, you there?”

  “I’m still here, boss, waiting for your extraction. We�
�re almost at the border,” came Melody’s voice through a hint of static.

  “Change of plans. We’re crashing the shuttle. I’m at the main switch in the hold but not sure what I’m looking at,” Quinn said.

  “We’re what? Boss, this is a really bad plan,” Melody said.

  “Keep hearing that today. Now, Mel.”

  “Right side of the panel. Green and blue wires paired.”

  “Cut them?” Quinn asked.

  “No! They connect into the junction below. Ease the green one and just the green one out and fiddle with it. You know, tap it in and out. That is going to crash you as gentle as possible, but it’s still going to be bad, boss.”

  Taki wrapped a cargo strap around Quinn’s waist, locking it into place before she pressed back against the wall and secured herself. The cargo hold wasn’t designed for passengers and there wasn’t any crash seating.

  Quinn eased out the green wire and the shuttle lurched violently, the wire slipping from his grasp. Quinn was slammed hard against a pile of crates and without the strap holding him in place would have gone tumbling down the length of the hold. Ribs flaring in pain he pulled himself back to the panel to flick the green wire back into place. Another surge of force, not so alarming this time.

  “You’re coming down too fast, boss,” Melody said through the comm.

  Quinn held the connection a bit longer this time and for a moment the shuttle felt almost normal again.

  Then there was the impact.

  Quinn went crashing against the cargo containers once more as the air was filled with the sound of screeching metal and splintering wood.

  When everything went still he found himself angled oddly. The shuttle must have come to rest on its side.

  “Taki?” Quinn asked.

  “I’m in one piece, sir,” Taki said. Releasing the straps holding her, she fell against a stack of crates.

  “You’ve got problems. You came down on the wrong side of the border—on the other side of the estate wall. If I try to come get you, I’m going to draw fire,” Melody said.

  “Any ground transit near us?” Taki asked.

  “Groundskeepers shed to your northeast,” Mel said.

  “Taki, go steal us a ride. I’ll get the cargo ready,” Quinn said.

  Taki nodded, taking off her helmet and goggles and shaking out her hair. Taki was in her twenties and of Japanese ancestry, attractive and short at around five feet in height.

  “If I’d known we might have a shootout I’d have brought my rifle,” Taki said.

  It wasn’t as big a deal as she made it out to be. If it came to a firefight they’d be outgunned no matter what they’d brought with them.

  Quinn overrode the controls for the main hatch, the ramp scraping the ground as it opened. The shuttle had come down sideways. There was nothing to be done about that, so Quinn got to moving crates. There were four containers of seeds, each weighing almost eighty pounds and prominently marked with the imperial seal. The cargo they’d actually come here to steal would fit easily under one arm. They were specialized parts of the sort that couldn’t be manufactured locally. Tiny, but valuable.

  After six minutes Taki pulled up in a large flat-bedded truck.

  “Any trouble?” Quinn asked.

  “No gardener, but we’ve got vehicles incoming,” Taki said.

  No time to waste then. Together they loaded the crates.

  “You’re the better shot, even it’s just with a pistol. I’ll drive,” Quinn said.

  Taki got into the back with the cargo while Quinn took his place behind the controls. Trucks were just rounding the bend near the crash site. Two of them, and each looked to have about eight armed men in the back.

  2

  Quinn hit the accelerator and opened the comm. “We’re hot and really outgunned. This may have been a bad idea.”

  “Shame nobody told you, boss,” Melody said.

  “I did!” Taki shouted from the back.

  “Where am I headed?” Quinn asked.

  “See that big road going south? You don’t want to be on it. There’s a smaller track off to the side though,” Melody said.

  It would have helped if the two roads intersected—they weren’t, of course, and bumpy terrain separated them. Fortunately, while it might not have been made for a high-speed chase the gardening truck was made to get around the countryside. Quinn turned off the paved road and onto a rocky slope. The trucked bounced and rattled, and he fought to keep it under control as his head bumped into the cab roof.

  A patter of gunshots sounded behind them. Too far back to be effective, and good news if it was typical behavior for all the security. It meant they were more muscle than brain.

  They had better vehicles though and were already closing the distance. As one drew close Taki fired off several rounds and the windshield shattered, sending the vehicle veering off to slam into a tree.

  The other was still on their tail—and more were probably on the way.

  The truck lurched as it hit the track and Quinn swerved sharply. This one wasn’t paved and the surface gravel spun beneath the wheels.

  There were more vehicles approaching. These looked like some kind of all-terrain buggies, smaller than the trucks and with just one rider apiece, but they were fast.

  “Where is this taking us, Mel?” Quinn asked.

  “You’re on the road the farmers take to see the governor and fortunately you’re going in the right direction—away from trouble, kind of. Keep heading down it. You’re going to run into a checkpoint, but it’s just a few guards to give the farmers grief,” Melody said.

  The gunfire from behind was picking up. A side mirror smashed as a round found it. Taki was sheltering behind the crates, using them for cover as she snapped off shots. One of the buggies pulled alongside, a bearded man reaching for the truck’s passenger door. Quinn pulled his pistol and shot through the window, the glass splintering as the man went tumbling backwards and away.

  The checkpoint appeared ahead. The wall of the governor’s estate wasn’t high, but high enough. Going around the checkpoint wasn’t an option. There were only two men manning the gate, but they knew the truck was coming and where it had to go.

  Quinn ducked low as rifle fire pelted the vehicle from the front, and he put his foot down.

  There was a squelch and a thud as one of the guards kept firing until the last moment—and beyond. Then they were through the gate and outside the grounds of the estate.

  The Kathryn could come pick them up any time now, but if they didn’t lose their pursuers the ship would be seen. Corono wasn’t such a large port that they couldn’t be found quickly if that happened. They had to make their escape without the guards seeing the Kathryn.

  “I hope you’ve got a plan, sir. I’m running out of ammo,” Taki shouted.

  Quinn tossed her his spare clip through the broken back windscreen.

  “Remember river rafting on Danok?” Quinn asked.

  “I already hate this plan, sir,” Taki shouted.

  “Mel? We’re river rafting. I need the hatch open and you angled low and just to the left of the bridge,” Quinn said.

  “Uh ... I’m not as good a pilot as you are, Captain,” Mel said.

  “You don’t have to be. We get aboard and I run for the controls. Just hold her in place until we arrive.”

  The canyon was narrow, deep, and winding. It had been dug out over generations by the river at the bottom. The bridge crossed the chasm, but they wouldn’t be using it.

  If Melody was doing as she’d been instructed the Kathryn would be waiting right there out of sight by the time they arrived.

  “We’re going to need a distraction,” Quinn shouted.

  “On it, sir,” Taki said. As they neared the bridge she left cover to carefully aim a shot. The round took the pursuing truck in a front tire. The vehicle spun out of control sending the guards aboard flying in all directions and forcing the buggies to swerve.

  Quinn yanked the wheel hard
to the left and the truck bounced off the road. There was only a second of visibility into the canyon below. If the Kathryn wasn’t there they’d be plummeting to their deaths—but there she was.

  The ship was a relic from another age, a worn cargo freighter dating from the time of the First Imperium. There weren’t many of its class still in service.

  The truck flew through the air beyond the canyon rim, falling for an eternity before it came down hard on the cargo ramp of the Kathryn and spun, slamming against an interior wall.

  Taki and Quinn were already in motion. Taki leapt off the truck bed to slam her palm down on the ramp controls, raising it. Quinn was crawling through the remains of the windshield and sliding across the hood so that he could make a sprint to the bridge.

  Melody was in the pilot’s chair. She had short, bobbed hair that was so blonde it bordered on white. Her dazzling smile and a figure rounded in all the right places gave her a girl-next-door charm.

  Already she was slipping out of the seat and Quinn slid into it, still breathless from the run. Despite the adrenaline, or perhaps because of it, his hands were steady on the controls and the ship lurched as he fired up the engines.

  Going so fast this close to the ground was always dangerous. Doing it within the narrow walls of a canyon would be suicide for most pilots. Quinn wasn’t most pilots. Keeping low and following the course of the river the ship made a quick series of stomach-churning rolls and turns.

  Quinn probably could have stopped after thirty seconds, but he wanted to make sure to put as much distance behind him and the guards as possible. They’d have seen the truck go over the edge and as long as they didn’t see the Kathryn, hopefully they’d think it had crashed and was submerged in the river.

 

‹ Prev