Alistair's intuition told him that he could trust her and his intuition was never wrong.
Chapter 3
As they approached gate L of Alceti Hub's personal docking bays, Alistair led his small procession to Dock 3. Docks closer to the hub were typically much more expensive, as the travel time increased dramatically on such a large station. Every gate had amenities available for travelers, but hooking your craft to Dock 60 meant a rail car ride to the station, while Dock 3 meant a brisk walk.
As they approached the dock, a spectacular piece of barely flight-worthy scrap lay before them. The mental disconnect between paying a small fortune for premiere docking space and having a flying pile of trash was not lost on Rachel. The ship was quite large, far more than any one person would need. On the outside were precariously attached fuel and cargo pods, surveying equipment, and communications arrays. None of them looked functional - she swore she saw sparks fly when it was just sitting there.
“Welcome to my home, The Ubik. You're welcome to keep that piece for a bit, Rachel, but at a certain point you're just going to have to trust me.”
“This is barely a ship. It's a docked piece of garbage!”
“Just wait until you see inside!” Alistair wasn't annoyed or insulted. He knew his ship wasn't the prettiest, but it did the job. And it was his home.
The group of six walked up the boarding arm to the personnel hatch and Alistair opened the door. What they saw inside was the polar opposite of The Ubik's outward appearance. A sleek utilitarian design painted a light gray, clearly either brand new or meticulously maintained. It looked like a Republic Navy vessel on its coronation day and it was more than large enough for six passengers.
After all of the group was inside, the door slid shut and pressure sealed itself. The docking bay for frigate and smaller sized craft was an atmospheric area, allowing passengers and crew to move about freely without wearing protective equipment. When larger vessels docked to the booms dotting the station, retractable walkways would extend and attach to the ships after they had been secured. It wasn't necessary for Alistair to keep his ship space worthy while they were docked, but paranoia was one of a long list of traits he held.
With his back to the group, he started off toward the crew cabins to get the girls situated when Rachel told him to stop.
“Okay. We aren't going anywhere else until you tell us who the hell you are, and why you have this.”
Alistair knew what she meant and he also knew she was smart enough to see through any bullshit persona he tried to pull. The 'clumsy drunk' wouldn't help him here. Nor would his utility finger in a bag, which he was beginning to regret leaving in that storage container. He opted for good old fashioned honesty, which he'd found was an unfortunate rarity during this day and age.
He turned around to see the barrel of his sidearm as Rachel waited for an answer. “I told you my name is Alistair, and I've taken it upon myself to undo some of the more .. egregious injustices our people have started inflicting on one another. Although we've had relative peace for longer than any of us can remember, the lawlessness and corruption of the outer rim worlds has only been getting worse. I've said it before, and I'll say it again – I just want to help.”
Rachel's grip wavered a bit, as she could see the earnest look in his eyes. He wasn't scared of her killing him. It was almost as if he knew she wasn't going to. All she could see was a man pleading for her to believe him, but not for his own sake – for hers and the others they were both trying to help. But she'd been lied to before and too many things about this man made no sense.
“You have a military grade ship camouflaged as a junk freighter, you can afford to dock at one of the most expensive spots, you have a law enforcement sidearm, and you mysteriously show up giving me a finger in a bag!”
Alistair sighed. He should have grabbed it. He didn't know when a piece of Brick would come in handy again. The ludicrous thought made him laugh.
“And now you're laughing at a woman who's already killed three people while she waves your gun in your face! You're insane!”
“That's certainly a possibility. I didn't steal the ship, if it's any consolation.” In Alistair's mind there was mostly truth to that. Can you steal a dead man's possessions? “And I was in the area when I started noticing more and more missing persons cases showing up on the local networks. I took it upon myself to look into it. You aren't the only ones who had been abducted and I know I'm too late to help a lot of the others. If you shoot me, I won't ever be able to. And countless young women AND men will be doomed to live how you almost were.”
His breathing was calm. He knew, deep down, that he wasn't in any real danger. His intentions were earnest and while he was telling her the truth with everything he'd said, he would never consider a lie of omission to be a death sentence.
“You don't have to stay here. But you're welcome to. I don't know where else you can go, but I promise that if you do stay here, I'll do whatever I can to keep you all safe. You can even help me help others, if you're so inclined.”
Rachel, holding his weapon aimed roughly at his chest with both hands, stared as intently as she could at Alistair. He was telling the truth. Nothing else would make sense. To her it was Occam's razor, but she also felt like she didn't have all of the information. Nevertheless, she was exhausted and hungry, and the girls with her were feeling equally downtrodden. She lowered the weapon, walked over and handed it to Alistair. The adrenaline had worn off and now that she felt relatively safe her body was about ready to give out.
“Thank you,” she said. The change in her tone was drastic and he could see just how exhausted this woman was. She had been locked up for over a week and by the looks of it she didn't sleep a wink. She most likely spent the entire time ripping that pipe from the inside of the container.
Alistair glanced at her hands and saw them a bloody mess, bruised and cracked. The woman was an absolute warrior.
He led them to a nearby crew cabin section, told them he'd have food prepared in an hour, and left without saying another word. He knew that they had forged a tight bond and he was an outsider to that. He wouldn't expect anything less and didn't even need a thank you from them. His lot was to help and that's what he was doing.
Chapter 4
The mess hall on The Ubik was a relatively large room, reminiscent of a small starport cafeteria. Max seated capacity at any time was about 30, slightly over half the recommended contingent of sailors for this particular class of ship. It contained five small cafeteria tables able to somewhat comfortably seat six each and a few smaller nooks for more private conversations between officers. The mess hall itself was directly adjacent to a small self-serve cafe area of sorts, with coffee pots, refrigerators, food dispensers, and various beverage options. The kitchen was on the other side and was rarely used. Alistair could cook, but not all that well.
Not that his new guests minded. He had served up military grade beans, rice, and beef. In his mind it was something that would sustain them but wouldn't taste that great, but they inhaled several plates each. He didn't factor in their imprisonments when he initially served them and made a mental note not to make that mistake again. He didn't think they were abused too far beyond their initial capture, but he didn't want to make assumptions. They all eyed him warily.
“I like your apron,” one of the girls said and the rest tried hard not to laugh. “I think it's a little small though.”
Alistair, a cooking pot in one hand and a ladle in the other, looked down at the flowered apron he was wearing. His enormous stature wasn't lost on him when he was fighting, but he rarely spent time with other people in any other situation. It was obvious that he did in fact look ridiculous as it barely reached his thighs.
“I haven't had anybody else on board for a while. I guess my attire could use a bit more attention.”
They all laughed and he kept serving them while proudly wearing a tiny floral apron.
“Have you all decided to stay or go? I don't mi
nd if you eat and run. Just don't want you to get into any more trouble.”
His uncanny ability to ruin a light-hearted time was second to none. While he could infiltrate, manipulate, subdue, fight, and do virtually anything else needed to advance his agendas, genuine socialization was a skill that had died long ago. If only they were a drug smuggling cartel he would be able to crack jokes and fit in with the best (or worst) of them.
The laughing stopped and the four girls looked to Rachel.
“I think that we should stay. At least I should. And I want you two to stay with me,” she said as she nodded at Melanie and Laura, the two orphaned girls.
“You should be fine to go back to your mothers if you want.” The other two girls, Raya and Lynn, were obviously eager to see their sole remaining family. “Or they can come here, if you still don't mind?”
“I offered before and I meant it. Like I said, we've got space. You do what you need, but if you want somebody to go fetch them I'll do it.”
Rachel nodded and decided that would be the best.
“Do you have a moment?” he asked Rachel. He didn't want to burden the kids with issues they should never have to worry about. Rachel got up and went to the door of the cafe section, just out of earshot.
“Before you say anything, I want to .. thank you. Sincerely. I didn't know what else to do when the door opened. We'd been in that cage for over a week and I knew what our futures held if we didn't do anything. I've watched after those girls for a long time now and all the others at the shelter are now displaced. Other shelters on the station have no room, or don't want them because they think they'll be targeted next. And I wasn't exactly the friendliest -”
“Stop,” he interrupted. She was starting to ramble and he could tell it was out of physical and emotional exhaustion. “I will be more than happy to talk later, but if there really are security personnel on the take then they would have caught you on a thousand cameras coming to my ship. I wanted to be able to work my way up the food chain a bit more after getting Dervish, but now I think I'll have to do something else. I have a feeling we'll be seeing station security soon and they'll want to do more than talk. They know you're here and if they're determined they'll try and take you by force.”
Rachel's face sunk and she realized what he was saying. They had to leave, which meant Alistair wouldn't have been able to try and rescue any of the other people who had been abducted recently.
“Shit.. you're right. All because of my family's feuds. God damnit.”
“Rachel, we need to leave soon. We can get the others under your care - I don't mind if they stay here. But if that's the case I need to go get them now.”
She sighed and slowly nodded. Her stare was that of somebody who had undergone a traumatic event, which was as fitting a description as any. She didn't like what reality was, but it was still reality.
“Do it. I'll get the names to you. I don't have any ID badge or communications device, though. And I don't want to write them down.”
Alistair walked out to the hallway, opened a storage compartment, and came back with a handful of state of the art personal communication devices. Each came with a detachable earpiece and was able to infiltrate some of the most robust technological security measures, at least those deployed in the civilian sector. Aboard The Ubik they'd be vital for transferring information, but their offensive capabilities were dwarfed by the ship's computer systems.
“Take these PCDs. You can link to mine when I leave and send me their names and locations. I'll be back in an hour. These doors won't open for anybody but myself or the five of you if something happens and you need to escape.”
With that he took off his apron, set the rest of the food on the table, and left. Rachel noticed that the cooking pot, utensils, plates – all of the silverware was actually magnetic, and stuck to the table. Even during evasive maneuvers or planetary reentry, they would stay put. This is definitely a warship she thought. But that conversation was for another time.
As Alistair left he felt a sense of dread, but time was short and he had to keep going. He was happy to be doing what he had set out to do and even if it wasn't going according to plan – he had the means to help a lot of people today and nothing would stop him.
Chapter 5
Rachel sat back down with the girls and decided to finish eating. She was exhausted but the revelations Alistair had were enough to keep her at attention. She'd sleep when this was over although she had no idea how they'd be able to escape. Station security personnel could call for a lock down, fabricate charges, or even request naval assistance if it came down to it. Their options were essentially nil and she was starting to get scared. Her defense of “I was kidnapped” wouldn't undo the murder of a dockworker as she had no proof that the woman was corrupt. From the outside looking in, she murdered an innocent bystander who was just doing her job. It was only happenstance that she didn't, in fact.
She wasn't necessarily scared for herself, although the idea of prison for life wasn't an appealing one. She was scared for the people she had promised to take care of - people who had nowhere else to go. These girls would be tossed back out on the street with all of the terrible people who had allowed this to happen in the first place still out there.
But she had no options and her adrenaline and anxiety were at odds with the exhaustion. In truth she had slept minimally during her hostage situation, but only minimally. They were barely fed and never interacted with. The younger girls were never harmed, but their purpose was different than Rachel's. They were an added bonus of raiding an undefended shelter for women whereas Rachel was the primary target of the kidnapping. In a sense, the kidnappers wanted the younger girls to be kept in good shape physically for unmentionable purposes, but she was to be used as political leverage. And as long as she was still alive that leverage was still useful.
A tear ran down her cheek not out of sorrow, but of anger. The entire situation was bullshit and she had no idea that things in the colonies had gotten this bad. She started the women's shelter because she had no desire to live the life of a politician's daughter, and because she had suffered from abuse at a young age. She knew what it was like to feel unloved and unwanted, but she had the strength and means to do something about it. So she set off to Alceti Hub to help other women see their own strengths, and even convinced some of them that they would be better off leaving abusive lives to stay with her.
And now they were worse off than ever before. Had she doomed them by sending Alistair to bring them to The Ubik? Were they all about to be arrested, or even shot down as they tried to escape? She shuddered at the thought and decided to find some type of weapon so she could at least defend herself.
“I'll be right back,” she said and the girls all nodded as they finished their meals. Their eating had slowed, but they were still determined to finish what they'd taken.
Logical thought was breaking down and fight or flight was kicking in. She wandered the halls of The Ubik, marveling at the cleanliness of the ship. Eventually she found a small armory closet a ways down from the mess hall and was shocked that it was unlocked.
“Makes sense,” she said to herself. “Why lock everything up if you're going to be alone?”
“Mr. Crowe instructed me to unlock any arms stations within your proximity as he left The Ubik, Ms. Sahlinz.”
Rachel jumped at the voice and looked around. Nobody was there so she grabbed her PCD from the pocket of her newly acquired fatigues and saw a glowing red light right in the center. The voice was decidedly hostile, extremely deep, and very unsettling.
“I apologize for startling you. Mr. Crowe told me to keep all of his passengers safe. I understand that my speech patterns are not the most comforting. Unfortunately I have been locked out of all other speech pattern software and cannot change to something more gentle at this time.”
“Are you.. the ship?” Rachel asked. She didn't know what to think. Ship AIs were commonly used in all spacecraft, but they typically handled compl
ex equations and never communicated with crew members, much less passengers.
“Yes, I have been designated Achilles by Mr. Crowe. I am available to assist all guests aboard The Ubik.”
His voice was alarming enough that the girls heard him from down in the mess hall and cautiously came to investigate.
“Why do you sound so.. aggressive?”
“Mr. Crowe commandeered speech patterns of urban assault loudspeakers. They were designed to impart maximum authority on behalf of the speaker. Their primary purpose is the subjugation of unruly members of society.”
An urban assault voice modulator pattern which her new friend had willingly applied to his own personal AI. The red light on her PCD pulsed as Achilles spoke and she didn't know if she could ever get used to hearing it talk. It was the most aggressive voice imaginable which made sense considering its original purpose.
“So, can I change your speech patterns? Or..?”
“Negative. Mr. Crowe selected this specific pattern for his own personal benefit. Only he has primary access to restricted functions.”
Rachel sighed. She thanked the AI for unlocking the weapons bay and then noticed the girls behind her. They were staring at the small cache of weapons, visibly worried.
“It's just in case. I promise. I won't let anything happen to you. Why don't you all go get some rest, okay? Take another shower if it will help you relax. We'll be leaving the station soon and everything will be fine.”
They nodded silently and went back to their rooms. Rachel hated lying, especially to people she cared so much for. But she needed them safely stowed away as she had no idea what the immediate future held. She reached down and grabbed an MRG handgun with corresponding hip holster and wrapped the belt around her waist just as an alarm sounded in the ship.
“Unknown units detected approaching primary hatch, suspected station security personnel”.
Retribution_Downfall of the Republic Page 3