by Skyler Grant
“I don’t suppose she left anything for the hangover?” Quinn asked. There was no sign of Ice.
“On the dresser,” Kara said.
Two tiny green pills. Quinn would assume they did what they were supposed to do. If Ice wanted him dead he’d be dead already. Chewing them thoroughly they started to hit the system almost at once, clearing his head and easing the aches from his body. It just left him feeling good, really good. Quinn tried not to feel too much guilt about that sensation and failed.
“So, this mission?” Quinn asked.
“You agreed to it last night. She forgives you, and we get a full tank and a few repairs for the Kathryn, all in exchange for you flying a ship of hers. I get to loot the bodies I shoot—she thinks they’ll have some good stuff,” Kara said.
Quinn would like to think that explained a lot. Ice had needed a skilled pilot for something and had seized the opportunity, past be damned. It would be nice if everything could be simplified down to that, but he didn’t believe it. This? Last night, this was Ice trying to be nice and trying to make amends.
“Let’s go figure out just what mess we’ve gotten ourselves into,” Quinn said.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Quinn said.
“You think you can actually get us through that?” Kara asked.
Quinn was piloting a heavy troop transport, a salvaged wreck from a forgotten war. Real work had gone into making it serviceable, but it was still meant to charge right through gun fire to land troops on a battlefield, not do fancy maneuvers. Shame fancy maneuvers were what the situation called for.
The Typhonis was a constantly shifting field of asteroids, debris, and the occasional hidden weapon emplacement. Somewhere in the middle of it was a smaller version of Ice’s operation, the headquarters of crime lord Ognez Zert.
Ships that were welcomed had a safe route charted through that field, exact maneuvers to carry them through to the center. Without that, anyone but an exceptionally skilled pilot would almost certainly meet their doom.
Ice had tried this twice before, had lost ships twice before. Whatever the feud was between her and Zert it was worth losing a lot of resources over.
Quinn studied the sensor data of the field and it was just too much. If there was an opening, he couldn’t see it and there was just too much noise to fly it on instinct. That meant lessening the noise. Quinn flipped through sensor views. Too much information was actually going to being a bad thing here, he needed less. The transport could survive small impacts, it was built to do just that, and so he tossed the sensor data for any smaller debris.
The display got a lot less cluttered. It was still a nightmare, but at least the sort you could run away from. The one where you felt you had something of a chance.
“Take gunnery control, Kara. If any gun emplacements open up on us, take them out. I’m going to focus on the rocks,” Quinn said.
“Ha. Ice said something like that last night,” Kara said.
Quinn didn’t want the reminder.
Quinn eased the transport in. The ship began to rumble at once, taking tiny impacts his sensors couldn’t even see.
Too much of one at the wrong point in time might throw off momentum, but that just meant he’d have to be twice as aware. Quinn wasn’t a religious man, yet there was always something almost divine about the way the ship became a part of you in these moments, the way that if you were doing your job right, everything else dropped away. The sensors, the stick, even your own body. Everything narrowed down to just being the arrow seeking the target.
Kara was whopping something, calling out in savage glee—she did enjoy being in control of the guns. Quinn didn’t even hear the words, not in the state he was in. A particularly violent impact from an invisible stone very nearly sent them into an asteroid, a last-second thruster pushing them to scrape against the surface and filling the transport with the sound of shrieking metal as the hull vibrated.
Then they were through the center of the storm. An asteroid base lurked in the middle, much smaller than Ice’s, with four ships docked in places on the surface.
The guns mounted to the transport were crude but effective, especially against targets not in motion. As Quinn brought them in close to the asteroid Kara perforated the docked ship’s engines with fire. They’d not be flying without some repairs.
There were no open docking slots so Quinn made his own. The smaller of the docked ships was little more than a pleasure craft and Quinn sent it tumbling away from the docking hatch with a blow of the transport’s nose.
Magnetic seals kicked in, bringing them in place.
Everything looked good.
“Hatch secured. Systems reporting atmosphere on the other side, but I wouldn’t trust them,” Quinn said, hitting the comm.
“Hell of a ride, Jade. Hold right here and we’ll be back when the killing’s done,” came a voice from the hold.
On a video link Quinn watched the hatch opening. Ice’s pirates slipped through, a smoke grenade preceding them. Defenders were waiting and the sound of gunfire came through the hatch.
Kara grinned, sliding out of the copilot seat. “Coming along and have some fun.”
“I don’t get off on murder,” Quinn said.
“Just murderers? Whatever,” Kara said, and blew him a kiss. “I’ll be back with a few scalps, stud. Keep my seat.”
Quinn at least had an open commline to events outside. The defenders were few in number, but were putting up a fierce fight.
It was around ten minutes after the pirates left that Quinn saw two figures enter the docking bay. They were checking out the ships, looking for one functional. A woman and a little girl, both well-dressed.
16
Quinn had never regretted shooting a man or a woman with a gun in their hand. Draw and you were an open target for what came for you. Those two didn’t look like combatants. Whether or not Ice’s pirates would see it that way Quinn couldn’t be sure.
While he didn’t trust Kara either, at least she was nominally inclined to listen to him. He opened up a private comm channel to her. It sounded like she was in quite a firefight.
“Need you back at the ship,” Quinn said.
“Little busy here, stud. Is it important?” Kara asked.
“Not calling just to hear your voice.”
“Here I thought you might have fallen for me after last night,” Kara said. There was the sound of more firing. “These losers have jack on them anyways. Headed back.”
Quinn slipped out of the cockpit and drew his pistol. It wasn’t the most welcoming of gestures if they really were unarmed, and desperate people did desperate things.
Once he stepped out of the ramp he called out, “I don’t mean you any harm. You’re not going to find any of those ships will fly.”
The woman spun towards the sound of his voice, shielding the body of the little girl with her own. Her expression was panicked.
“My husband, you are here to kill him. Please, we want no part of it,” she said.
Her accent was thick, she’d come from pretty far out in the Rim. Western expanse, Quinn figured. Married to get away from one rough life, he guessed, and found her way into another. It was probably going to get her killed.
“Ma’am, like I said. I want none of that. Place like this, you have supplies come in, right? How often?”
The woman was trembling, “Supplies? Two weeks, every two weeks. In six days. You are here to steal the supplies?”
“You and the little girl. You get in one of those ships and you seal the door. The life support should be good. You wait for that supply ship,” Quinn said.
There was no way to be certain they’d get a warm welcome, but it was likely going to be better than anything she’d get from Ice and her pilots.
“Good catch, Jade,” came a male voice from the docking bay entry. The man was bearded, rough, a white bandana worn around one arm marking him as one of Ice’s pirates. “The Queen told me to find the bastard’s family and see they su
ffered in front him. They weren’t in their quarters, guessed they might have come to escape.”
He either hadn’t overheard the conversation or was trying to give Quinn a way out if he had. If the latter, it was a kind gesture, and probably Ice’s doing. Ice knew Quinn was softer than she was, and it was probably why she’d wanted him to wait with the ship.
If this pirate was supposed to torture the family to death he wasn’t a good man. It also meant he wasn’t going to back down.
Being soft didn’t mean you didn’t do what was necessary when it came down to it.
Quinn swiveled to aim his pistol at the pirate and fired off several shots. One went wide and two took him in the chest. The pirate staggered backward, his armor protecting him, and he turned his rifle to fire at Quinn.
Too fast, and Quinn wasn’t in armor. Three rounds took him in his midsection and he felt himself being thrown backwards.
“Backstabbing fuck,” The pirate said, turning his rifle on the woman and her child. He never got a chance to fire, his skull exploding.
Kara stepped in a moment later, kicking the rifle away from his corpse as she advanced, keeping her gun trained on the woman and child as she made her way over to Quinn and briefly glanced over at him.
“You’re looking bad, stud,” Kara said.
“Medkit in the cockpit. Then get them into one of the shuttles,” Quinn said.
Kara disappeared from sight and Quinn felt himself starting to shiver.
There was very little a top-of-the-line, modern Imperium medkit couldn’t fix, and Quinn really wished they had one about now. What they had was instead as old as the transport itself. When Kara returned she pressed the gray slab against his chest before moving to usher the woman and child into one of the shuttles.
Quinn interfaced his wristcomm with the medkit.
Multiple Gunshots
Major Internal Damage
Can stop external bloodloss and neutralize pain, but probable prognosis is terminal
Triage protocols recommend moving unit to another patient
Do you wish to initiate treatment?
The medkit didn’t think he was worth saving. This was what happened when you left your healthcare in the hands of machines. Quinn happened to disagree with the sentiment, if not the prognosis, and triggered the medkit to do its work.
The sudden absence of pain was almost dizzying. A euphoric rush that had him sucking in deep breaths as he stumbled to his feet.
Quinn gave it a few minutes to get his senses back, watching as Kara dragged the body of the pirate away and replaced it on the ramp with a body of one of the defenders killed in the original boarding rush.
“All better?” Kara asked, when she made her way back.
“Probably dead,” Quinn said with a wry look at the scene she set. “All that might have been useless.”
“If it keeps them from shooting you long enough for you to fly my ass back to safe harbor, it was time well spent,” Kara said with a grimace. “You will live long enough for that right?”
Quinn wasn’t sure. He felt dizzy, and happy, and delirious and wrong. The medkit was probably doing its best to slow his bleeding out inside, but there wasn’t much it could do.
“Hope so,” Quinn said.
“What the hell happened?” came a curt female voice from the entry.
Another of Ice’s pirates, an older blonde with a nasty scar along one cheek.
“They tried to take our ride. Captain Jade killed the fuck but took fire,” Kara said.
“Fuck. Fuck,” the woman said, “Queen is going to kill me if her toyboy dies. He isn’t going to die is he?”
“Probably,” Kara said, slipping an arm around Quinn. With her strength she had no problem lending him support as she got him back to the cockpit.
Pirates trickled aboard, most carrying some sort of loot in their arms. The blonde had a bag dripping blood, the head of Ognez Zert, Quinn guessed.
At Kara’s urging they finished boarding quickly. Quinn sealed the hatch and detached the ship. Making it back through the field was even rougher than coming in, this time his piloting skills were obviously suffering.
Were it not for Kara’s gunnery skills fracturing a few incoming asteroids at the last moment, they’d likely have died. Instead they’d lost most of the armor by the time they escaped the field and Quinn engaged the jump to Port Blank.
The rest was something of a blur. Kara’s arm around him as he disembarked the shuttle. Ice and Taki screaming at each other.
The medkit now clamped to his midsection grew heated and Quinn blinked with a sudden rush of new clarity in his senses.
Tamara was pulling her hand from it. “Apologies, Captain. I had to up your dosage. You’ll die a little quicker, but we need you clear. We need to launch, now, and Ice is inclined to shoot at anyone who tries to take you anywhere unless you agree to go.”
Ice pushed Tamara aside. “What she means to say is I’m trying to keep you alive and this bitch wants to haul you off to die so she can save her own ass. Two days, two days and I can have my crews hit an Imperial medcenter. We’ll get you what you need, if you just hold on.”
“Captain, you won’t make it two days if you stay here,” Tamara said firmly. “Taki won’t fly unless you’re with us and we can’t stay here. You gave me your word, Captain. If you’re going to have a last act, do try to honor it.”
It wasn’t a hard choice, not really. Ice maybe could save his life. It was possible he’d hold out long enough, he was a fighter and she’d murder a whole hospital if that was what it took to save him.
Then she’d own him, and after that she’d never let him go.
“Ice, let me go. I gave them my word,” Quinn said.
“Fuck your word. Fuck your honor. I didn’t get you picking Kat, but are you really going to die rather than stay this time?” Ice asked.
Quinn tried to give a response but the world was becoming a blur again.
17
“You are not taking him,” Quinn heard Taki said.
“Get us away from here. Trust me, we can help,” Tamara said.
Her voice was close, the grip around him was not nearly so strong. Was it Tamara helping him along now? Quinn tried to focus, forcing the fog in his head away.
“Lady, I don’t know who you think you are,” Taki said.
“Kara, if anyone interferes, shoot them, but not to kill,” Tamara said.
The world greyed out again.
Quinn felt consciousness again flickering back with something familiar. He was on his bed.
“Are you sure about this?” Jinx asked.
“I’m sure that if we let him die, that woman is going to throw us off at the next station, if she even waits that long. Do it,” Tamara said.
Pain, so much pain. A sickening squelching sound. The medpack was being torn from around his waist. It was so connected with his flesh at this point it didn’t go easily.
Blue eyes looked into Quinn’s.
“This is going to hurt you a bit. I’m sorry for that,” Jinx said.
Quinn felt her take one of his hands. Within her eyes for just a moment Quinn saw the impossible—flashing blue sigils. The exact shade of blue of a Runestone powering up.
Pain. It was an impractical amount of pain. It was an absurd amount of pain. A body dying shouldn’t need this much agony and yet Quinn felt he was being torn apart. It was worse than being shot.
Then his head was clearing, and his body felt different. Better. Quinn reached a hand to his chest and felt unbroken flesh where he should feel gaping holes.
“No, no, no, no,” Quinn said, struggling to push himself to his feet.
“Surviving puts you in a disagreeable state,” Tamara said.
“That was mending magic and as far as I’ve been concerned Jinx is human. You brought a fugitive royal aboard my ship?” Quinn said. “Which one are you? Princess Veronica? Cassidy?”
“Neither,” Jinx said with a sad smile.
“Sit dow
n, Captain, and first of all, you will stop being a brute and will thank her. It is not a pleasant experience for her and further exposing herself has put us both in danger,” Tamara said.
Quinn took a breath. Tamara was right, manners were manners.
“Thank you, Jinx, or whatever your name is. I am very grateful to be alive and very full of questions,” Quinn said.
Tamara answered instead. “I’ll explain what I can. I can’t stop you from revealing any of this to your crew, but I do ask that you be as discrete as you can.” She took a seat on the bed. Leaving a space between her and Jinx, she patted it and looked at Quinn.
Quinn sat, less than happy. “Talk.”
Jinx began. “I guess introductions first. Jinx is more of a nickname. Selina Cartier.” Her eyes searched his for some sign of recognition.
There wasn’t any. Quinn knew the members of the royal family about as well as any citizen of the Imperium did, but he was far from a scholar on the subject. Whoever she was, she wasn’t in the news.
Tamara said, “Your lack of political acumen is as distressing as it is unsurprising, Captain. Still, I suppose most citizens wouldn’t know of her. Selina is a direct female line decedent of Empress Opalia.”
That was a name Quinn recognized. Legendary and infamous. He said, “The last Empress of the First Imperium.”
Tamara gave him a wan smile. “Indeed, so you are not completely without a sense of history.”
“So what does that make you?” Quinn asked Jinx.
“Nothing. My family lost all lands and titles in the War of Roads. I am spectacularly well-connected and singularly unimportant,” Jinx said.
“I thought mending magic only belonged to the royal family? It’s that which gives them their immortality, right? Isn’t it connected to bloodline?”
Tamara shared a look with Jinx and seemed to weigh her next words carefully. “You are correct, Captain, but it is complicated. You know the Mgabi, they make the Runestones. The Trent control fire, the Xao water. Emperor Octavius and his family bend minds. It helped them to seize the throne and it wasn’t until they did that they also received the power to heal.”