Star Sailor #2: Otto al-Kara of Rangpur

by Chris Fox

toward Brat. She jumped as gently as she could on Brat's back, and as he groaned with pain, launched herself upward at the wall using him as a springboard. She made it two meters higher than Brat's highest attempt, and with some desperate scraping of her tough boots against the wall, and scrambling with her hands, she landed her fingers just on the tip of the window ledge.

  The group gasped as Najima straightened her grip and her support with her feet. "How the bleeding stars did you do that?!" Brat yelled.

  "Effort," she wheezed. "Did gymnastics as a kid. Comes in handy sometimes." Najima wrangled her weaker, left hand to her back pocket, produced her plasma dagger. She then activated one blade, and seared the structure of the window until it popped out. The small, rectangle of plexiglass fell solid to the ground within, clattering loudly.

  Najima tossed her knives into the room before weaseling her body through the small opening. Immediately below her in the room was a large shelf tightly packed plastic boxes. She fumbled on top of them, and tumbled off the shelf, crashing quite roughly into the another shelf opposite of her, but without falling to the ground.

  Now with more control, she climbed the shelves downward like a ladder, before dropping safely to the floor. She retrieved her knives and reconnected them before tapping the unlock and open buttons on the door’s interior keypad, which slid the entry open.

  "That was amazing!" Priya yelled.

  "Not gonna lie, almost thought I was going to fall," Najima replied, rubbing her arm where a new bruise would no doubt form. "What now?"

  "Bratindra, I'll let you do the honours," Bri said.

  "Don't have to tell me twice," he returned slyly, walking back toward the sidewalk before hollering at the top of his lungs. "Oi people, are ya hungry?! We've got free food! Otto al-Kara is giving fresh insta-meals courtesy of your local Civil Protection. You heard me right, get over here if you want it! Don't be shy!"

  “Wait, who did he say?” Najima asked. But Priya and Bri rushed into the room, insisting there was no time. With Najima's help, they began opening boxes and removing packaged foods and tossing them unceremoniously into the alley. A crowd began to gather whooping and clapping as Brat continued to yell out invitations. Soon the crowd began to swell and clog the alley, and Bri, Najima, and Priya began to simply open containers before throwing them whole out the door while some began hurrying into the room to gather items for themselves.

  Najima stood back and watched as the group moved like the team they said they were. Everyone laughed as they passed out food and tossed boxes, and Brat seemed to relish the chance to yell. Najima couldn't help but chuckle at how ridiculous of a robbery this was. She then saw that one of the few who entered the room was the little girl from the sidewalk, who's eyes grew large when she noticed Najima, a packaged cake already opened in one hand. She quivered, perhaps thinking she was in trouble, until Najima ruffled her hair and smiled, putting a couple boxes of food in her hands.

  The crowd suddenly began to thin, and people outdoors began to scramble away from the buildings, dropping boxes of food everywhere. Sirens were wailing through the air. "We're not popular anymore!" yelled Brat. "Time to go!"

  Priya and Bri guided those who had followed them inside to the exit, Najima trailing behind. She took the little girl by the face and kissed her forehead before telling her to run. As the quartet exchanged a quick glance, all four bolted down the alleyway.

  The chaos behind them was immediate, as Civil Protection, in their white uniforms, rounded the corner and began yelling stop. After a moment, one pointed at Najima and her new friends, chattering into his com-device as Najima, Bri, Brat, and Priya rounded an intersecting alley, and sprinted to the sidewalks.

  Brat was first into the street, practically rolling across the sandstone to dodge a Doyel which abruptly halted in place, its anti-grav engine malfunctioning, and sending it flumping to the ground with a loud metal clank. The others sprinted behind him, CPs rounding both corners at the ends of the streets, as well as behind them in the alley. Brat ran to the nearest apartment, where a confused bystander stood holding the door open.

  "Thanks!" he yelled, forcing his way past the woman as Bri and Najima hurried inside, Priya trailing behind. They ran into the riad, with a lush green tree rising upward toward the middle of the interior balconies, where some tenants stared baffled at their presence. Priya had turned back to the door, quickly jamming the electronic lock.

  Unfortunately, they were trapped. The rear door which led to the alley had a digital sign that blinked OUT OF SERVICE in bright yellow letters. "What now?" Bri yelled as Brat cursed his bad luck.

  Najima's eyes sped around the riad, until she saw a solution. "Second floor. These places have escape ladders. We take one down and keep running."

  "Better than nothing," Brat huffed, looking back to the entrance, where CP officers were hurriedly hacking through the keypad of the locked entry. The four raced up the nearest staircase as the front door opened and CP began pouring through. At the top of the second story, Brat drew his gun on a bystander, who screamed and ran away from the open door to an apartment.

  Najima was on Bri's heels when she heard a scraping sound, and found Priya fumbling on the ground. He wasn't cut out for this kind of sprinting, struggling to even stand. She grabbed him and lifted his heavy body back off the ground as CP quickly scaled the stairs hollering, "Halt!"

  "Get in, lock the door, and get out," Najima said. Priya tried to ask about her, but not before she put her foot on his butt, and pushed him inside the room. Brat closed the door immediately after, leaving Najima alone with several CP officers on the interior balcony. As they raced toward her, Najima spun, climbed the railing, and dove with her hands splayed toward the tree in the riad. She grabbed a branch, which bounced long enough for her to get a firm hold, before it snapped, sending her to the ground.

  She landed on her back in the rough grass, and coughed her way woozily back to her feet, where she met a CP, who struck her in the shoulder with a baton. She was able to take him by the neck and kick the back of his knee fast enough to send him toppling over his own weight. But before she could regain her composure, another officer tackled her with his entire body. She was held with a boot at her neck, choking the air out of her, until she was rolled over and placed in electromag cuffs behind her back.

  Najima was raised to her feet with the CP officers angrily garbling at her through their helmets. “Where did the others go?”

  “How am I supposed to know?” she wheezed, still recovering. She grinned widely before she said, “I’m busy being arrested.” As expected, the CP officer threw a baton swipe at her, which she ducked, forcing him to hit his teammate. In their anger, they kicked Najima off her feet and to the ground before reluctantly lifting her up again. The officers chattered in their various communication devices as onlookers gazed on from the interior balcony.

  The CP officers rambled around for around ten minutes, no doubt searching for the rest of the group, until they finally ordered Najima to move. She knew this procedure well. She would be taken for processing at the Civil Protection offices, and have to talk her way out of getting locked in jail. She was already thinking about possible tactics as she was pushed out of the apartment complex and back into the bright sunlight, where a large crowd had gathered. Many were using their tablets to take pictures or videos, not being accustomed to so much trouble in their small town.

  “Get in the vehicle,” they ordered, directing her to a Doyel with CP markings. But as the door opened, everyone - even Najima - dropped to their knees with fright! TUHTUHTUHTUHTUH went the sound of a ballistic assault rifle, a sound not often heard, as most guns fired laser. The loud blasts sent people screaming in all directions as several bullets struck the apartment above Najima and the officers heads, and after a pause, several more shots careened into the hard metal and glass of the nearby CP-squad Doyel.

  Najima had been fired upon before, and despite the surprise of the gunshots, she quickly trained her eyes up toward th
e sound, where she saw the shooter draw back their gun. Her view was blocked by the sun, blinding the image into a dark silhouette along the rooftops of the buildings across the street. The figure was tall, lean, and held his assault rifle in on hand, to the sky. “Looking for someone?” the silhouette hollered in a gruff voice.

  The CP officers had all but abandoned Najima, pushing her to the sidewalk as they scrambled to grab their firearms. “It’s Otto al-Kara!” yelled someone in the crowd with a better view. Some people screamed, some people ooh’d, and the majority of the CP officers began yelling orders for al-Kara to surrender.

  “Why don’t you play with someone who’s worthy of your attention?” the man laughed from the rooftops.

  “Put your weapon down or we will fire!” screamed the CP officers.

  “Put this down,” al-Kara returned, before opening fire again, riddling the CP car and sandstone ground with bullets. The officers returned fire, but al-Kara’s silhouette had vanished behind the edge of the roof. In an instant, CP officers began scrambling to vehicles, rushing down alleys, and abandoning the scene.

  Only one officer was left afterwards, having been ordered to take Najima to the CP offices. He grumbled through his mask before ordering Najima to follow