The Renegade Star Series: Books 1-3 (Renegade Star Box Set)

by JN Chaney

  I scoffed. “Did you just call Ollie my employer?”

  “Isn’t he?” she asked.

  “That little runt doesn’t employ anyone except himself. I’m a freelancer.”

  “Call yourself whatever you want. Now, can we get going?”

  I glanced at the massive crate at her feet. It was about two meters long, half-a-meter wide. “What’s in the box?”

  “Supplies for my church,” she answered, frankly.

  “Care to open it?” I asked.

  Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  “Something wrong?” I walked to the side of the crate. “I can’t carry this unless I know what it is.”

  “That’s not a possibility.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “There are perishables inside. If I break the seal, they’ll ruin within a few days. The seal has to stay intact until I get home.”

  “So, food? That’s what you’re carrying?”

  “Food and medicine,” she explained. “Our congregation placed an order and I was sent to bring it back.” She reached into her side pocket and withdrew a pad. “You can see the order form here.”

  I took the device and read it over. The document looked authentic, as far as I could tell. “Seems right,” I said, handing it back. “Okay, go take a seat in the lounge while I get us clear of the dock.”

  “With all due respect, I’d rather wait here until we arrive.”

  “You want to stay in the cargo hold? What for?”

  “I take my work quite seriously. I can’t leave the church’s supplies unattended.”

  I laughed. “You think someone’s gonna steal your box? You realize it’s just you and me on this ship, don’t you? That box isn’t going anywhere.”

  “Nevertheless, I’m staying with it.”

  “Fine, then you can find another ship,” I said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “There aren’t any seats in here, which means there’s no safety harnesses. You go flying and bash your head, what am I supposed to do? I’d have to deal with a whole mess of paperwork, not to mention the mess you’d leave behind.”

  “I can’t just—”

  “You fly with me, you follow the rules. Stick your ass in the lounge or take your box and go. It’s one or the other. No compromises.”

  She looked at the crate, clearly concerned. “I can’t wait for another ship.”

  “Do what I say and you won’t have to. That’s the price of admission.”

  She paused. “Fine. I’ll wait in the lounge, but only until we’re clear of the station. That’s acceptable, isn’t it?”

  “Whatever stirs your pot, lady. Spend the trip in this room all you want, just not when we’re arriving or departing.” I shook my head and turned to leave. “It seems like a lot of trouble just for a stupid box, if you ask me.”

  FOUR

  “We’re away from Taurus Station, sir,” informed Sigmond. “Setting course for Arcadia System.”

  “Good, now let’s see about our passenger,” I said, pulling up the security feed in the lounge. To my surprise, the nun was nowhere to be found.

  “She’s already on the move, heading back to the cargo bay,” said Sigmond.

  The display changed automatically to the woman’s location. She was now standing firmly beside her crate, lording over it. “She’s a loony one, isn’t she?” I said, observing her.

  “You did tell her she could return once we left the station. She stayed seated until we were clear.”

  “Whose side are you on?” I asked.

  “Apologies,” said the AI.

  Truth was, I didn’t have a reason for ordering her to stay seated in the lounge, but whenever I had a new passenger, I made it a point to put my foot down right at the start. They had to know I was in charge, just in case something went south. Maybe the engines blew, maybe we ran into a nasty fight. Whatever the case, they needed to do as I said. Best way to make that happen was to enforce my authority early on.

  Lucky for the nun, I didn’t foresee any major snags. The trip was a straight shot from Taurus Station to Arcadia, less than sixteen Union standard hours. We’d be there within a day. A quick in-and-out job for me, which was perfect.

  Once I made the drop, I’d call Ollie and see if any other jobs came in. If none had, I’d have to put in requests to every other agent I knew about, which wasn’t something I did very often. If that failed, I’d have to figure something else out. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, I thought.

  I watched the nun in the video as she stood, almost motionless, like a guardian statue beside her valued cargo. I was certain she was lying about its contents. I could see it on her face when she gave me that story. Whatever was in there, it wasn’t just food and medical supplies. “Siggy, see if you can run a scan on our new friend’s cargo.”

  “Proceeding. Just one moment.”

  I tapped my finger on the console. I’d never worked with any religious folks before. The only exposure I had with any church was when I was a homeless kid on Epsy. I remembered a priest named Shiggorath walking around the city, handing out pamphlets. He first ignored and then condemned me when I asked for some of his lunch, and that didn’t sit right with me. After following him home, I waited for him to leave, then broke in and stole whatever I could carry. He called the police that same day and they found me drunk on his brandy. I was tossed in juvenile detention the next day.

  After that, I didn’t have to worry about food or clothes again for two years. They even taught me to read and write. Not a bad deal when I thought about it.

  “Scan complete,” said Sigmond, snapping me out of my thoughts. “No results.”

  I leaned forward in my seat. “What do you mean?”

  “The box is lined with an ultrathin layer of Neutronium, preventing me from examining its cargo.”

  “Did you just say Neutronium?” I asked.

  “Indeed, sir.”

  My mouth hung open as I sat there, staring at the nun and her box. Neutronium was an exceptionally rare type of metal, used primarily by the Union for both research and military purposes. Most scanners couldn’t even tell the difference between it and normal steel, but every decent Renegade kept their records up to date, just in case something like this happened. You never knew what piece of information would come in handy on a mission.

  Whoever this woman on my ship was, she certainly wasn’t your average nun. Not if she had access to Neutronium, of all things.

  “Do we have a way of getting through the metal?” I asked.

  “There is no known method, according to my database. I could search the Galactic Net for more information, if you would prefer,” said Sigmond.

  “No, forget it,” I said.

  I sat there for a long moment, debating what to do. After a while, I stood and began to leave. “Siggy, standby to perform another scan, but wait for my signal. Use the earpiece, too.” I tapped the side of my head. “Got it?”

  “Of course,” said the AI, and I heard his voice in my ear this time.

  “Time to go see what our passenger is trying to hide.”

  * * *

  I entered the cargo bay and spotted Abigail next to her precious crate, standing quietly with her hands in front of her waist. “I see you couldn’t wait to come back here,” I asked, making my way down the stairs to the lower platform.

  She turned, a surprised look on her face. “You said I could—”

  “I know what I said. Sit with your box. Do what you want. Just stay away from my stuff, you got it?” I motioned at the stack of supplies in the back of the bay. “I’ve got a lot of important shit down here, you know.”

  I walked over to my personal locker, opening it and removing an old hat, which I proceeded to wear. “Looks good, right?”

  “I assure you, I’ve no interest in your things,” she said, turning away from me. She stood there a moment, then glanced down at the crate.

  I returned the hat and shut the locker. Leaning against the ne
arby metal beam, I crossed my arms and eyed her brown and gray tunic. “You mind if I ask you a question?”

  “What?” she said, clearly distracted.

  I reached into my pocket and took out a piece of rock candy, then tossed it back. Everyone had a vice. Mine was rock candy, those little hard fruity-flavored candies they made for old people and kids. “I said, can I ask you a question, lady?”

  “Oh,” she said, finally understanding. “I suppose so.”

  “What’s with the whole church thing?” I asked, sucking on the delicious cherry sweet.

  “Excuse me?” she asked, almost offended.

  “The church thing. Whatever this is about.” I motioned at her entire outfit. “What’s the story there?”

  “I’m not sure I know what you mean. I’m a devout follower of the church. My mission is to serve the teachings of our order as best as I—”

  “Yeah, I get all that,” I said, waving my hand at her. “I’m asking, why? What makes someone go and join the church?” I bit down into the candy, breaking it. “Your church is in the middle of the Deadlands. I read about it last night. It’s not even considered a real religion by most people. How did a girl like you get swept up in such a nutty organization?”

  “Excuse me?” she said, her look shifting from one of confusion to offense. “What right do you have to ask me such questions? You’re nothing but a brigand.”

  “I certainly am,” I said, laughing at the insult. “You know what? never mind. It’s none of my business.”

  She looked at the crate again, saying nothing.

  “Guess I’ll leave you to it,” I said, and started to leave. “Although, I do have one other question, if you can spare me a second.”

  She didn’t bother to look at me. “What is it?”

  I swallowed what remained of my candy. “What’s a woman like you doing with Neutronium?”

  She froze at the question, her fingers going stiff at the mention of the last word. She knew exactly what I was talking about, no doubt about it. She must understand how this looked.

  “I’m waiting,” I said.

  She finally turned around. Her face was serious, more than it had been before. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  I looked at the crate, then again at her. “Is that right?”

  She nodded, slowly.

  “Your box is lined with one of the rarest materials in the galaxy, but you don’t know anything about it?”

  “Even if I did,” she said. “It’s none of your business, sir.”

  “See, normally I might be inclined to agree with you,” I said, taking a step to the right, moving closer to the box. “But right now, I’m thinking you lied to me when you boarded this ship. I’m thinking whatever’s in that crate, it isn’t food or medicine.” I took another step. “I’m thinking it’s something I should be aware of.”

  “What I told you was the truth. I bought this crate from a shop in Cretos. I had no idea—”

  A light tapping sound filled the cargo hold, and I froze in place. It was very light, but also close.

  “Is something wrong?” asked the nun.

  I held up my finger to quiet her.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Abigail and I made eye contact right as my hand slid down to my holster. I held the butt of my pistol.

  “What is that?” I muttered, looking down at the crate.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  The nun’s eyes widened. “Nothing!”

  “It doesn’t sound like nothing,” I said, stepping forward.

  “Wait a second!” she insisted, holding out her hands.

  “There’s something inside that thing, isn’t there?” I asked, drawing my gun, not aiming it.

  “It’s an animal,” she blurted out.

  “Is that right?” I asked.

  “Please, leave it alone,” begged Abigail. “You don’t—”

  I raised the gun, showing it to her. “Keep pushing me, lady. I swear, I won’t think twice about spacing you and your weird box.” I pushed the gun forward, motioning with the barrel. “Back up.”

  She did as I ordered, giving me room. “Please, don’t do anything rash!”

  “You try anything and I might,” I said. The crate had a locking mechanism on it with a touchpad. “What’s the code?”

  “Please, you can’t open that. It’s not—”

  I tapped the side of my pistol. “I said, what’s the code? Don’t make me ask again.”

  “It’s not that kind of lock,” she said, nervously.

  “Then, what kind is it?”

  “You…need my thumbprint. I’m the only one who can do it.”

  I lowered the gun and motioned for her to get on with it.

  She edged her way closer to me and the crate, bending down to look at the lock. “Oh, this is no good,” she said. “There’s something wrong with it.”

  “What are you talking about? Open the damn box,” I said.

  She threw a hand up in frustration. “I can’t! Look for yourself.”

  I leaned in to see what she was pointing at. The screen looked exactly the same as before. “I don’t see any—”

  Before I could get the words out, a hand flew up and snagged my wrist, moving it to the side. At the same time, I felt a jab in my gut.

  Abigail was so fast, I had little time to react. Spit flew from my mouth as the blow struck me, and I gasped.

  With the nun on her feet and holding my wrist, I pressed forward, shoving my knee into her bulky tunic and hitting her in the chest. She took the hit like a beast, surprising me, and tried to go for my neck.

  I used my one free hand to grab hers. We struggled with one another, hand-in-hand. “What kind of nun are you?” I balked. Using my weight, I pulled her to the floor, slamming the woman on her back. She didn’t scream or cry, but kept those determined eyes locked on me.

  “You’re pretty tough,” I said, pinning her.

  “Let go!” she snapped.

  “Not until you open the box,” I said.

  She tried to position her leg beneath me, but I used my knee to lock her down.

  Just then, I heard a click from behind us, coming from the crate. I looked to see the lid cracking open, condensation rising from within.

  That was when I felt the nun’s hand slip free of mine and hit me straight in the cheek. My face went numb from the slap, and it jarred me for a moment.

  “Get off me!” she demanded, and for whatever reason, I did.

  She let go of my other wrist and scurried over to the crate, leaving me with a red face and sitting on my ass. I still had my pistol, though it wasn’t raised.

  Abigail opened the lid to the box, letting a cloud of steam rise into the air. I eased up to my feet and leaned forward, eyeing the contents of the cargo. To my shock, I saw a figure—a girl with white hair, pale skin, and blue eyes—breathing steadily. A thick tube stuck out of her mouth, running into the back of the box.

  The nun eased the tube out of the girl’s mouth and throat. The girl responded by coughing erratically. She had green slime dripping out of her nose—a residue from the tubes.

  Abigail helped her sit up and began rubbing her back until she vomited the contents of her stomach. It was standard for cryo-sleep patients, although I had only seen it a handful of times. Cryo-sleep wasn’t common, except in extreme medical situations.

  “Someone wanna tell me just what the hell is going on?” I asked, still gripping my pistol. I wouldn’t use it against a helpless kid, but holstering it would be stupid.

  The nun didn’t answer. She swept her finger through the girl’s hair, pushing it behind her shoulder. With the sleeve of her tunic, she wiped the girl’s mouth and nose. “There, there,” she whispered.

  The albino child shivered in the cold, her eyes half-asleep. She opened her mouth to say something, although it was so light I couldn’t hear it.

  “Did you hear what I said?” I asked. “Who is that? You’d better start talking,
woman.”

  “Her name is Lex,” said Abigail.

  The girl licked her lips. “Did we make it?” she asked, her voice finally audible.

  Abigail shook her head. “I’m sorry. Not yet.”

  “Why am I awake?”

  The nun turned to me. “Can you get a blanket, please?”

  “Not until you tell me just what the fuck is going on,” I barked.

  The fire in Abigail’s eyes had dissipated, replaced by a gentleness I hadn’t seen before. “Please,” she begged again, nothing but concern in her voice.

  I stood there, not certain what to do. I looked at the girl in front of me. She couldn’t be more than ten years old. No matter what circumstances had brought her to be in this position, no matter how outrageous the story, the fact remained she was just a kid.

  I went to the nearby locker and took out a blanket, then handed it to the nun. “Here.”

  She took the blanket and wrapped it around the half-naked child. “Thank you.”

  With my hand still on the pistol, I leaned against the back wall, observing the two of them.

  The girl leaned into Abigail’s chest as she wrapped the blanket around her side. As she did, I could see the outline of a marking—no, a series of blue shapes along her side. They looked like tattoos.