Star Realms: Rescue Run

by Jon Del Arroz

  Joan bit her lip, considering what she could do in this situation. “I know. If we can get clearance into their launch area, I’m sure we could sneak onto the ship at the very least. Maybe take over the ship’s system and divert it?”

  “Joan, that’s very dangerous.”

  “I know, but I don’t see a better alternative. We can’t extract Commodore Zhang from a holding cell here. Even if we succeeded with that, we’d be hiding her on a Trade Federation world with security everywhere. Security that’s actively looking for us, I might add. We can’t get a message out to our people without getting killed ourselves.” Joan let out a breath. “I think we should try it. We’re out of options.”

  Trian frowned. “I don’t—”

  He shut his mouth, turning toward the security line as if they were passengers. He grabbed Joan by the arm and tugged her along with him.

  “Hey!” Joan said, her arm stinging from the rough handling.

  “A squad of security personnel right behind us. They’re looking for us,” Trian whispered “Act as if you’re a regular tourist.”

  Joan did her best to not show her tension, to appear bored in line, as they moved toward the checkpoint. A couple hundred people stood between them and the security scanner. What happened when they reached the front? Were the officers who checked idents ready for them? Hopefully the new ones that Trian had secured would have no problems.

  She wanted to ask Trian if he could see what was going on, if they were making their way through the crowd, but she dared not cause a disturbance.

  Trian stared straight ahead, moving with the crowd. His eyes betrayed that weariness he’d been showing Joan all day.

  The crowd rustling answered her unasked question for her. People behind her made rude comments. Security officers moved by, checking every person in line. The officers pushed forward, bumping into Joan and causing her to stumble forward.

  The officers didn’t turn around for her and Trian, but continued toward the scanner. When they appeared to be out of earshot, Joan looked at Trian nervously. “We have to get out of line.”

  “We can’t, it’ll be too obvious,” Trian said under his breath.

  “Oh no,” Joan said in a louder tone. “I left my datapad at my boyfriend’s residence. I need to head back and get it.” She tugged on Trian’s sleeve. “Don’t leave without me. We can catch the next lift?”

  Trian’s expression went very flat. There was no doubt he understood the plan, but Joan could tell he didn’t like it. Much like any plan Joan devised. “But we already paid for the tickets.”

  “We can eat the fee. Come on,” Joan said, tugging on his sleeve to move the both of them off to the side of the line.

  Leaving the line proved to be a bad idea. One of the security officers ahead looked back, his visor reflecting from the light of the large atrium. He pointed at them almost immediately. “You there! Stop!”

  “Dammit,” Joan said. She motioned her head in the opposite direction of the security officers, not waiting for Trian to respond before breaking into a run.

  Running wasn’t easy with a crowd of people lining up, moving their luggage, standing around bored. It was all she could do not to plow people over, weaving in and out of various people. Out the corner of her eye, Joan could see that Trian managed to keep up.

  Security kept up as well.

  Joan assessed the situation with a single glance over her shoulder. Three security officers in total, one slower than the others. With their helmets and visors and likely plasma-retardant vests, they’d be bogged down a little more than Joan. That was a plus. The minus was that this was their territory. They had help coming anywhere they wanted, which could cut off Joan’s options.

  She scanned the large room. Shops lined the security checkpoint, providing the masses places to eat and travel items people might have forgotten on their way planetside. Convenience. A few vendors stood at carts rather than back in shops. Nowhere inconspicuous to hide.

  The whole area was packed with people trying to get to their respective lifts. The best Joan could hope for would be to lose security in the scuffle.

  A hand grabbed at her back, nearly getting hold of the fabric of her shirt. Joan twisted away, looking back over her shoulder once more. One of the security guards had caught up.

  She immediately stopped in her tracks, causing the security guard to do the same, but turning to face her. He ran into another person, falling to the ground, taking several people with them as they reached out for something to hold onto.

  Joan weaved the opposite direction, aiming to put as much distance between her and that security officer as possible before he could get back up again.

  Trian huffed, barely keeping up with her. “You’re fast.”

  “I’ve had experience with this before,” Joan said, hopping over a bag that another traveler dragged by the wheels. “I think they won’t risk firing their plasma pistols in a crowd like this.”

  “I would hope not. You know how to get us out of here?” Trian asked, jogging after her.

  “Maybe. I try not to get into these situations. It’s bad odds.”

  A pair of security officers found an opening, circling around Joan and Trian to try to flank them. The one who tried to grab her was back on his feet, having produced a plasma pistol. His face was hot with anger.

  Joan needed something to even the odds. This is usually when she’d ask G.O.D. for help, but if he was still in singing mode, she couldn’t deal with the distraction. What else could she do? Even if she managed to get out of this jumbled mess, it would be into a hallway, or another zone of the Central Office with less people present. At that point, the security officers would be able to shoot Trian and her.

  “Function. Unmute AI,” Joan said loud enough so her earpiece would pick it up with the ambient noise. “G.O.D. I hope you can maintain control of yourself for just a few moments.”

  No response.

  The two security officers moved in like pincers. With the rate the crowd of people were moving they would reach them in moments. “Trian, I know this is going to sound crazy. But you need to head straight for that security officer to your right. I’ll take the one on your left. If we run right into them, we might surprise them long enough to get through,” Joan said.

  “Okay,” Trian said.

  Joan headed straight for the security officer on the left, weaving around bystanders in the way, though feigning as if she still tried to slip by him. He tried to grab her, but Joan burst forward, delivering a hard kick to his private parts. He doubled over, moaning.

  She looked back to the side. Trian had managed to push his officer over as well. Joan looked down at her handtab. Her security remained locked. That’s why her command to G.O.D. failed. She tapped with her thumbprint scan, the handtab coming to life.

  “Function, Unmute AI!” Joan shouted again.

  “Ms. Shengtu,” G.O.D. said in that calm, unchanging voice that could only come from an AI. “I understand you’re in a predicament. I have a potential solution should you be able to evade security’s watchful eye for a few moments.”

  “Lay it on me, I don’t have time!” Joan said, looking behind her. The other officer was catching up again. Joan slipped behind two larger men, pushing one in the back forward so that he’d disrupt the area.

  The man turned around, irate, but by the time he could react, Joan had put considerable distance between them. The man had served well as a blockade. Trian moved back to her side. “You’re good at this,” he said, sounding like he was having trouble breathing.

  “We’re almost clear,” Joan said, ignoring the compliment. She hoped that was true.

  A map display of G.O.D.’s plan appeared over her handtab. There was a vendor cart right ahead. If she could sneak behind that somehow, she’d be in the clear.

  Joan ducked, still pressing forward, but kept her head low, not quite in a crouch. Her goal was to lose the people behind her, or at least make them stop to look around.

 
Trian did the same, keeping close behind her. They weaved through another twenty or so people. Security didn’t appear to be catching up this time.

  They approached the vendor stall, an insta-recharge station for datapads, handtabs, all sorts of devices. A bot operated the counter, which made it easier to slip past unnoticed. Joan slinked behind the counter, using the bot as a shield, though she didn’t see a hallway where the handtab indicated she should go.

  “G.O.D., where did you lead us?”

  “You’re relying on your AI with the virus?” Trian asked.

  “Shh,” Joan said.

  “Behind the crate to your left,” G.O.D. said, “there is a maintenance bot hatch. Based on your size and shape, you should be able to hide yourself within its dimensions.”

  “Got it,” Joan said, wasting no time. She moved to push the crate aside and dove inside the tunnel which was just where G.O.D. said it would be. Trian followed her inside.

  The only problem was they didn’t have a way to move the crate back to conceal their escape. Security wouldn’t fail to notice the human-sized hole in the wall, which meant they would be caught in no time.

  Joan continued down the tunnel, crawling on hands and knees against the rough metallic flooring. Her knees ached with every push forward. Each movement also caused a clang against the aluminum tunnel floor. So much for subtlety.

  After several lengths forward, the shaft split into two directions. Joan took the right one, not consulting her handtab this time. Trian was right behind her.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” Trian asked, his whisper fading into white noise in the tunnel.

  “No, just away from the security guards,” Joan whispered back.

  The sound of a plasma pistol readying pierced through the tunnel.

  “That’s not good,” Trian said.

  “No, it isn’t,” Joan said, scurrying forward with an even more fevered pace. “G.O.D. get us out of here!”

  “Calculating a trajectory for probable escape. Processing. Processing. Processing. Ms. Shengtu, I am afraid that there is a low probability of escape,” G.O.D. said.

  “I can see that!” Joan shouted, as if that would do any good. She reached the end of the line before it turned again. When she headed right, she could see security catching up behind her.

  The officer fired two shots which fizzed off the wall just as Joan and Trian cleared the corner. This next length went on for a long way. Far too long to avoid a shot when the officer rounded the corner.

  “We’ll never make it down there in time. He’ll shoot us!”

  “Gah,” Joan muttered. Trian was right, but they had nowhere else to turn.

  “What do we do?” Trian asked. The noise of knees hitting the metallic flooring echoed. The security officer would be on them in seconds.

  Joan frowned, considering. “I think we have to give up.”

  “I don’t like that plan,” Trian said.

  “You don’t like any of my plans.”

  “For good reason!”

  “I did warn you about the probabilities of success,” G.O.D. chimed in. “Your current plan does increase your odds of survivability over the next hour by seventy two point five three percent, but decreases long-term survivability to zero.”

  “Not much I can do about it right now,” Joan said, turning right back around and squeezing past Trian. “Security! Don’t shoot! We are giving up!” Joan said.

  Just as she spoke the security officer rounded the corner, nearly bumping heads with Joan. Rattled, he scrambled for his plasma pistol, pointing it at her. “Don’t move,” he commanded.

  “I wasn’t planning on it.” Joan stayed very still, in case the officer was a little trigger happy.

  “Turn back around, keep going. There’ll be an exit into a cargo bay about twenty meters ahead,” the security officer said.

  Joan did as he commanded. So did Trian. The three moved through the tunnel, before heading out of a similar entranceway to the lift atrium.

  When she stood back up, Joan was greeted with another three plasma pistols pointed directly at her. One of the security officers jammed his gun into her side, hitting her in the rib and kidney.

  Joan doubled over, the pain reeling through her.

  “Easy!” another security guard said.

  “This Blob witch kicked me in the crotch! Fair’s fair,” he said, backing away but showing no remorse.

  “Doesn’t matter. Don’t give her any ammunition for the courts. We’re under enough pressure as it is,” the other officer said. He inclined his head toward the officer who had captured them in the tube. “Good work. Escort the prisoners to detention block three.”

  The walk through the corridors of the Central Office went in silence. Joan looked over to Trian only a couple of times, not wanting to spook any of the guards. She didn’t really have a plan to escape at this point. Joan bit her lip.

  “Ms. Shengtu,” G.O.D. said in her earpiece. “I have taken the liberty of analyzing your current situation. I see no alternatives to the holding cell.”

  Tell me something I don’t know, Joan thought. They continued along a hallway, keeping away from main commerce areas. Some people still rubbernecked to see who was headed toward detention, but Joan didn’t give them an interesting show.

  The detention area loomed ahead, a glowing sign that said “Trade Federation Private Security” above armored doors. It looked much like she’d seen in the Star Empire when she’d been in this position before. This was likely the end. If they had executed Jake, it was good odds that Yui had suffered the same treatment. She and Trian wouldn’t be far behind.

  To be honest, the mission was a doomed one from the start. Joan’s prior career revolved around getting in and out of stations and ships as quickly as possible. She didn’t linger, waiting for security footage and computer analysis to catch up with fake identification. She wasn’t exactly afraid to die at this point. It’s not like she had much going for her life even if she did succeed. But even after trying her hardest for the Star Empire, gathering just enough information to give her and her friends hope, she found herself in the same situation as she had been when she was caught stealing on the Destiny. The same situation where she had been set up at Balibran Station. Yui had been right about her. Joan was a failure, with little to offer anyone.

  One of the security officers scanned his ident against the console in front of the detention center, sliding the armored door open. Joan and Trian were ushered inside to a waiting area, guarded by someone behind a translucent blue shield. Her captors spoke with the stationary guard, who nodded and let the shield down. “We’ll have to process them. Holopics, retina scans, thumb prints,” the guard said.

  “I know the drill,” the security officer agreed.

  Joan looked at Trian and considered making a move. There were five security officers and two of them. The odds weren’t the worst she’d encountered, but they had weapons and she didn’t.

  Still, when the corporation researched who they were, found out the truth, it’s not like they would fare better. Fighting now, going down while trying to resist, would at least save them the torture of a cell and phony trial.

  One of the security guards looked off to the side, as if to strike up a conversation.

  Joan saw her opportunity. It was now or never. This would be her best shot. She shifted her weight, aiming to pummel the distracted guard and make a hostage out of him…

  The doors to the detention center opened. Dario Anazao stood at the entrance.

  Chapter 29

  Rescue and Search

  Regency BioTech Central Office—Detention Center, Mars

  Local Date February 14th, 2464

  Dario caught Joan’s eye as soon as he entered the detention area. Please stay still, please stay still! Dario tried to communicate to her telepathically.

  She didn’t get the message.

  The guard in front of her stumbled as Joan threw her weight onto him. He reached for his pistol, but J
oan delivered a blow to his wrist before he could.

  Her maneuver alerted two other guards who drew their plasma pistols in turn. “Prisoner’s trying to make a break for it!” one shouted.

  Dario waved his hands frantically to get their attention. “Hold your fire! Hold your fire!”

  “Who are you?” One of the security officers asked, turning toward the door. His plasma pistol pointed directly at Dario’s chest. The other two guards subdued Joan.

  At least the guards followed directions, and no plasma pistols discharged. Yet. An air of confusion filled the detention area. Dario put his hands up to ensure there would be no misunderstanding. “I’m Dario Anazao. Kostas Anazao’s son. You know the name?” He asked, banking on his father’s corporate status. He hated doing it, but at least he had that option.

  Two security officers looked at each other blankly, but the third, the one who had been wrestling with Joan shook his head. “That’s the CFO, idiots.” He turned to Dario. “What’s a big wig doing down here?”

  “I…” Dario hadn’t thought through exactly what he was going to say. Truth be told, he ran down as quickly as he could when he realized Joan was in danger. But he could think on the fly. That’s all he’d been doing since being promoted to the management role. “I have orders from the board,” Dario said, pointing toward Joan and Trian. He tried to keep a serious expression. Business. Professionalism. “About these two, actually. They’re involved in matters of corporate espionage. Big stuff. I’m supposed to take them directly to the board for interrogation.”

  The guard stepped over to a computer terminal and tapped a few commands. “I don’t see any orders about this.”

  “You’re Trade Federation security, this is internal corporate for Regency BioTech here on the station. Wasn’t time to go through all the channels to get here. Scan my ident though; I’m who I say I am.” He tried not to look at Joan through this. The sight of her could shatter the confidence he tried to portray.

  “Look,” Dario continued. “You’ve done really good work, but the board wants this quiet, too. Part of the reason to not send a formal request is because if espionage stories get out to the nets, it could be used to make the company look weak, drive down our stock values. It could hit all of our retirement funds—even yours, indirectly.”