by J. J. Snow
The man smiled, his face still shadowed. “Ah, yes! I had forgotten your enthusiasm for torture. Very well then. In fact, to start off on the right foot, you may have both of them to kill as long as I get a copy of the video as proof. That way, we are even. Agreed?”
Crazy Ray leaned in. “Even? Not quite even yet. Which one is yours?”
The man shook his head. “Really? Is that what it will take? Fine, get Maisen for me.”
One of the soldiers nodded and quickly left the room, returning a few minutes later at a trot, accompanied by a pasty-looking man in black who bowed his head to the man on the dais.
“You asked for me, sir? How may I be of assistance?”
“Well, actually…” the man started, but before he could go any further, Crazy Ray blasted the black-clad man dead on the spot.
He turned back to the visitor with an evil, cocky smile. “Now we are on even footing. Now we have an arrangement. Agreed?” He thrust his hand out towards the man.
The visitor finally turned around and leaned forward to grasp Crazy Ray’s hand. His red hair glinted in the stage lights, and his gray eyes were cold, hard, and calculating. The two sociopaths smiled at each other as they shook. Crazy Ray was already plotting to kill him once they found their prey, but Razam Welch wasn’t worried. It wasn’t his first rodeo, or as a matter of fact, even his first death.
—————
Reilly was on the bridge when they lost gravity. An instant before it went offline, she noticed the last of her coffee begin to levitate as a brown blob, along with a few other items that weren’t locked down. She quickly strapped into her seat and turned to the rear console. The gravity generator went to orange and then to red on the monitoring board as the backup failed as well. Reilly opened a lower panel and disconnected some wires, reconfigured them, and reconnected. She attempted to restart the ignition on the drive but there was no response from the secondary mech room. This told her that the problem was down there and not on the bridge. She released the lap belt and floated through the door and down the main hall until she reached the secondary mech room. The primary mech room was on the base floor of the ship, along with the cargo bay, and held all of the machinery for the ship’s thrusters, engines, primary life support, and other major functions. Secondary mech was for redundant systems support, shield control, fire control, life support, and other critical functions, like the gravity generator. She grabbed the emergency tether and hooked it onto her web belt, then turned to the machines. The gravity generator was reliant on gluon-to-gluon interactions which created flux tubes that exerted constant pressure, creating a sort of artificial gravity. Gluons were like the duct tape of the universe and held all matter together at the atomic level. Milo Cristofson, a physics researcher, had developed a method to manipulate gluons and other particles which had resulted in fantastic new technological advancements, including the gravity generator.
Reilly looked into the generator and could see that the normal blue light on the cylinder had now turned a somber red, indicating that the mix had reverted to plasma and separated out into free particles, which were contained by the system’s protective force field. It appeared that one of the circuits had fried, making the generator accelerate, which had resulted in an extreme amount of pressure and caused the system to fail. In layman’s terms, the generator needed a new internal cylinder. She rolled her eyes and headed towards primary mech and the cargo bay. This was still better than the reverse effect. Very rarely, some of the older gravity generators would create extended flux tubes that when exposed to additional quarks would bind them and begin to rapidly increase linearly in strength. One of the gunships during the battle of Bolly Surz was struck by a rail gun which sliced though the hull and the gravity generator. Before the crew knew what had happened, they had been pulled tight against walls, doors, and furniture, unable to move and steadily being crushed by the increasing flux tube strength. Fortunately, the effect had been localized to just one ship. However, theory had it that flux tubes could spread, and if not slowed or stopped early on, could compact a large amount of matter very quickly. Reilly had no desire to experience that type of pressure. In a matter of seconds, you went from feeling normal to feeling like you weighed 1500 pounds and were one inch thick.
When she arrived in the bay, Duv and Chang had finished anchoring the cows just as Ty turned on the gravity field. Hay, tools, and several weapons fell to the deck while Duv and Chang dropped three feet to the floor and began brushing themselves off. The bay was wrecked, cow manure and hay were scattered across the floors and walls, and the entire room smelled. Reilly moved in from the hatch and slowly came into the gravity field, allowing herself to settle at its very edge and then step through.
“I hate cows!” Ty growled. “How can they make so much crap in just a couple days?”
Chang shrugged and began picking up tools, wiping them off, and putting them away. “Don’t ask, don’t say. Everything lies in silence.”
Ty snorted. “Thank you, oh Grand Master of Wisdom! What the hell does that even mean?”
“It means as soon as we get planetside, the cows get off.” Reilly took another sniff. “Or maybe earlier if they keep this up—ugh!” She stepped around scattered piles of manure while helping Duv move a crate back to its tie-down. “I checked the generator, and the cylinder is dead, so we’re going to have to deal with zero Gs until we get to Roen. I’ll get a field set up for the bridge, and let’s get one set for the mech rooms, too.”
“We have some pretty heavy blast damage along the starboard hull. I patched it, but we’re going to have to get her into the metalworks to take a look,” Duv reported.
Reilly nodded her acknowledgement. “Kinda guessed that from the oxygen decompression I’ve seen. How many hops ahead have you programmed us?”
Duv had the ability as a master pilot to plot long-distance space travel up to twelve jumps out. The calculations were intense, but if necessary, he could do it safely. Roen wasn’t that long of a trip, so he was doing it in smaller plot sets called “journey plots,” or just “journeys.”
“I have about four to five journeys a day, so I won’t need to reset for the next journeys until later this evening. We’ve got time.”
“Good. Perfect day for some zero-G training, then. It’s been awhile for all of us, so let’s say meet back here in two hours, and we’ll get it set.” Reilly grabbed a portable gravity field and turned for the bridge.
“Sounds good, I’ll get Skeeter set up in one of the gravity fields before we get started—”
“Nope. He plays too.” Reilly turned to Skeeter, who was still hanging on the wall. “You want to get a full cut as crew, here’s where you start. Meds and staying still won’t help you acclimate to zero Gs, you’re going to have to learn to move around in it, get your body used to the feel of it. You can help Ty and Chang set up the gravity fields in the mech rooms, but after that, I want you moving up and down the halls and learning to maneuver in open space in the bay. If you got to puke, do it in the mask and use your purge button, but keep moving, understood?”
Skeeter nodded and slowly let go of the wall to push off and join the others. He felt better now that he had thrown up, but the weightlessness was still disorienting. He found if he moved deliberately, though, that the motion wasn’t too bad and he was able to better control himself. Chang waved him over, and together they grabbed another field and moved out.
A few hours later, they had all gathered back in the cargo bay. This time, they sported lightweight chest plates and body armor over their clothes. Ty handed out battle rifles with electric firing plugs to the crew and then waited for Reilly’s direction.
“Let’s warm up with a few movement drills, and then we’ll go from there. Seth, you partner up with Ty, and Gunny and Duv, you guys over there. I’ll jump in or run my own on this side. Alright, straight flys, hooah?”
“Hooah, Captain! Straight flys!” Chang, Ty, and Duv echoed back.
“Exercise!” Re
illy called out. She hit a timer so it would count off one-minute blocks, then turned to demonstrate the first drill to Seth.
They started off with simple drills, pushing off from the wall Superman-style, or left or right side, or on their backs, and moved to more intermediate drills that included wall work and then using tethers. Reilly got Seth started on each drill and jumped in as his partner when Ty needed to give his healing ribs a break. They were all rusty, but soon the motions were becoming fluid as they became accustomed to the weightlessness again. Soldiers in the ISUs were trained to fight in all environments, and zero G was one of their fortes. Chang and Duv used modified harnesses that allowed them to clip in at various points around the cargo bay then push off from the nearest hard surface. Reilly would toss targets randomly as the team used their lines to rapidly pop out from cargo to fire, then return to cover as the harnesses pulled them back. They also practiced movement from cover and defensive positions while Ty, sequestered behind some cargo, randomly fired at them. Reilly focused her attention on Seth, demonstrating each movement then watching as he did it and making corrections as necessary. The rifles emitted an electric pulse that gauged accuracy and counted hits without damaging the ship. A holoscreen kept track of each participant’s hits, misses, and overall accuracy during the training. Ty, although injured, was neck and neck with Chang, and Duv was close behind on the hit count. They were all solid shots, which was one of the reasons Reilly had hired them to begin with. Seth did about average for a new shooter, but she was confident that with some practice he would shape up to be a fine shot as well. After three hours of hard training, they split up to take care of their regular duties and see to the ship.
Reilly cleaned her rifle, took some extra time to check her gear, and then looked over Ty’s gear as well to make sure it was in order. It felt good to be training again, although the soreness in her muscles reminded her that she needed to change up her workout to make sure she was in fighting condition for zero Gs, too. Then she made a note to order some new gear for Seth when they got to Roen and headed up for some chow. Despite everything that had gone wrong, it seemed to have turned into a good day after all.
—————
Razam Welch was not pleased. “You said they had been bugged. Why can’t we track them?” He drummed his finger impatiently and glared at the so-called surveillance expert Crazy Ray had called in to discuss the plants on Reilly Campbell’s ship.
Crazy Ray paced irritably nearby while the pale-faced man explained about range limitation on the plants.
“We only gave the boss short-rangers, since he just wanted to see what they said once they left, ‘case they had his Wanted Man Number Three on board. But they didn’t say nothin’ important, so we didn’t shoot them down or bring them back. You’d need some Seekers now to find ’em,” the man finished up, nervously looking from one crazed maniac to the other while he waited for his fate to be decided.
Seekers had been designed as long-range bounty hunters. They relied on biometrics which Crazy Ray strictly collected from all of the people who came on board his station to ensure security for his guests, and for occasions such as this where he might have to track one down. Each unit was capable of traveling long distances through space and could cover several solar systems on its own, although the tracking time would take considerably much longer. Seekers were incredibly expensive. Crazy Ray was pleased to see Welch’s look of surprise when his man mentioned them. That was good, since it meant that Welch had underestimated him. Mistakes like that could lead to favorable situations, situations in which he could choose to kill Welch, or perhaps coop him for his own uses. He did need another pet, and it would be fun to watch his detainers break Welch and mold him into the next Vishon. Crazy Ray allowed himself a private smile before returning to the task at hand. There would be plenty of time for pleasant thoughts after he had Reilly and Ty in his detention center. Seekers would work, but even with all of them employed, it could take a month or more to locate the targets, depending on how far they had travelled after departing the station. Still, the machines were faster and less intrusive than sending in actual shock troops. Seekers also gave the added element of surprise. Once they confirmed their targets, they could monitor them remotely or tag them with a nanotracker that could be handed off to a command tracker to be used by Enforcers, shock troops, assassins, even Crazy Ray himself. Then he could act at the moment of his choosing, a single crystal window of opportunity that favored his success. He imagined that moment when they would realize they were caught, when they would realize who had caught them, the taut expressions, the smell of fear and sweat and anticipation of what was to come. He smiled again, lost in the moment, and then turned back to the man.
“Do it.”
“Right away, Boss. How many of ’em you want?” The man gestured at two others, who came off the wall they had been trying desperately to blend in with. “We got fifteen right now, and we can get probably another twenty or so…”
“All of them. I want all of them, and I want them programmed and launched by this evening. You report back to me once it is done, understood?”
“Yes, Boss.” The man turned a shade paler and began to sweat. He eagerly disappeared from the room with his assistants hard on his heels.
Welch was tapping his handheld as Crazy Ray glanced back at him. “What are you doing?”
“Hiring you the best Tethers money can buy.”
He held up the handheld to display some of the most notorious bounty hunters in the galaxy. Each one was highly skilled and had a ship capable of running up to five Seekers. As Tethers, the hunters would sit silently and wait for a confirmation signal from one of their Seekers. When they received it, they would send an encrypted message to Welch and would immediately pursue the target until it had been captured or killed, depending on the Controller’s preference.
Crazy Ray paused, his turn now to be a bit surprised. Half of the hunters on the list were men he frequently used for his operations. Welch is better connected than I expected, he thought, storing away this fact with hundreds of others he had collected already. He smiled fiercely back at Welch.
“I may start to like you in spite of yourself.” He waved a man over, who promptly poured them each a shot of brandy from a bottle labeled “Red Dwarf” that depicted a stunted, sniveling caricature of a small, disgruntled-looking man wielding a staff wickedly titled “Old Slammer.”
Welch grinned back in kind as he took a sip. “You’d better be careful. That almost sounded like a compliment.”
—————
Reilly continued to drill the crew without mercy. Skeeter was dealing better with the zero Gs but still had bouts of nausea. They all were sore, tired, and bruised, but the training was challenging and kept them engaged, despite the beatings they took daily.
Reilly went over defensive positions, shooting in the open, and using armor plates to absorb any hits if you got caught without cover. Chang demonstrated different movements that could be done on a harness rig, while Ty reviewed shooting from stationary and mobile positions. After an hour of practice drills, they switched over to small-unit tactics and worked on movement throughout the ship. When they finally finished, everyone was happy with the results. They had assaulted the bridge, cargo bay, and common room multiple times. Reilly, Chang, and Ty rotated through as the opposing forces to increase the challenge and hone their own skills. There were no breaks and anything went. As in war, the winners were those who could improvise. In the ISUs, the motto was “Train like you fight,” and Reilly and her crew kept true to this core concept. Even Skeeter was pushing his limits in an effort to keep up with the more experienced warriors. By the end of the day, he was able to execute all of the basic drills without error.
They had just begun to gather in the common room for midday chow when Duv came on the comms mic to the ship.
“Just wanted to let y’all know I’ve got Roen in view. I repeat, we have Roen in view. Almost home, folks!
Woohoo!”
The crew pushed to the bridge and stood around Duv, taking in the scene with excitement. The tiny blue, gray, and orange world floated on the horizon like the beacon of a lighthouse calling them home to a safe port and a hot meal. Chang started talking about the marketplace and fresh vegetables, while Ty wondered about getting a replacement night scope for one of his rifles and Duv offered to buy the first round of drinks over at the Iron BAR, one of the ISUs’ favorite watering holes. Even Reilly joined in the discussion, sharing her favorite place to eat and which bazaars had the best deals.
As the planet grew larger, the crew scattered to take care of last-minute items and pre-landing preparations. Ty directed Skeeter and Chang as they loaded up extra items for trade on the planet. Duv called down to the surface and reserved a berth for the ship near the metalworks. Reilly pulled up her console and found three messages waiting. Two were old buddies working the defensive platforms orbiting Roen who had already detected her ship and wanted to catch up for a drink. The third message, however, caught her off guard. Duv turned when he heard her swear and then followed up with a curse of his own.
“What the hell is he doing here? I thought that bastard was dead!”
“Apparently not. He wants to meet us.” Reilly leaned back in her chair. She had served under the Commander. He was still active in the ISU, and if there was a fight to be had, you could bet he’d be square in the middle of it. Zain was militant to the core. If the man feared anything, no one had been able to tell Reilly what it might have been. He was a brilliant strategist who had led the ISUs through some of the fiercest battles in the galaxy and on to victory. When something went so wrong no one could fix it, Zain got the call for the job. Reilly was wondering why the Commander wanted to meet with her now, after all this time. The man was no idiot, and everything he did, he did with a purpose. She knew him well enough to know that she wouldn’t get answers across the link. Zain would tell her face to face or not at all. She responded to his message. Moments later, she received a time and place in return, then signed off. Ty had been with her on more than a few of Zain’s crazy one-way missions. In several cases, they were the only ones to make it back. This unexpected blast from the past added to Reilly’s uneasiness. Something was up, and she didn’t like it.