by Dana Kelly
“Impressive, Mr. Webb, but you only needed to contain the explosion,” said Blacktusk. “Please kill him.”
Orin shook his head. “He’s not a threat anymore.”
“I must insist.”
“Isn’t this proof enough of my abilities?” asked Orin. “He’s been maimed—and by his own hand, no less. He doesn’t need to die. I think we should take him prisoner.”
Blacktusk stood back and crossed his arms. “Even if it means putting strain on our friendship?”
“I’m sure we’ve been through worse,” said Orin.
Blacktusk chuckled. “Then we will agree to disagree.” Glancing at a burly human fellow, he said, “Drake, bring Ky Rego to me.”
“Aye-aye, Captain.”
“That name,” said Orin, and he looked up at Blacktusk. “I have this nagging feeling that I knew Ky Rego from before I lost my memories. Do you know why his name feels so familiar to me?”
“It is just one of those names,” said Blacktusk. He hugged Orin sidelong. “Come. Let us find you something nice to wear. There is a hunter-destroyer closing on our position, and we must prepare to receive her. If possible, I would very much like to add her to my fleet.”
Chapter 12
Decisions in a Vacuum
From her shuttle’s cockpit, Casey hailed Rocksaugh landing control but received no response. She looked at April. “Scans show the airlock dome is still engaged, and no one’s getting back to me. Blacktusk’s shuttle is still docked, so my guess is he’s taken control of the installation. If so, this is our chance to seize him and rescue Orin.”
“And…” said April.
“Arrest Ky, I know,” said Casey. “But I’m not picking up Ergo’s transponder, so that may have to wait. Can you get us inside?”
“I can certainly try,” said April. Navigating the dash touch screen, she swiped through pages of machine code and mechanical subroutines. She separated two datasets and pinged Rocksaugh’s internal network with a status request. The cursor blinked. “Come on,” she muttered. “Come on, answer.”
At last, the facility replied with a password request, and April smiled. She ran a script, and lines of code scrolled by in a blur. A command interface appeared, and April tapped through dozens of options. At last, she paused at an input prompt. Referring to the datasets she had set aside, she copied two alphanumeric strings and transmitted the data. With her hands steepled against her mouth, she waited, and she watched.
“Did it work?” asked Casey.
“I don’t know yet,” said April.
Casey leaned forward. The shuttle had drawn close enough to see the tarmac’s landing lights as they flashed. She fired dorsal thrusters, halting their advance, and weightlessness gripped the vessel. “Anything?”
“You’ll know as soon as I do,” said April. She nodded toward the sealed tarmac. Suddenly, the dome yawned open, and she whispered, “Fantastic, thank you!” April glanced toward Casey. “As soon as the lift reaches the bottom and the airlock is sealed, the whole facility will enter maintenance mode. That means no power to anything but life support.”
“Running dark,” said Casey, and she directed the shuttle toward the tarmac. “Good thinking.” Using controlled thruster bursts, Casey closed the distance. The asteroid’s reduced gravity felt increasingly pronounced the closer they got to it.
Casey angled up the shuttle’s nose just before touching down. After a moment, the tarmac’s clamps engaged, and they began their descent.
“It’s time,” said April.
“Here we go,” said Casey, and she hurried from the cockpit. Seated within the passenger compartment, Shona and Malmoradan regarded her. “Suit up. We’re outnumbered and outgunned, but we have years of training and surprise on our side.”
April opened her locker and retrieved her tactical helmet. “We also have infrared.”
Malmoradan smiled. “Hell yeah!”
“So, what’s the plan?” asked Shona.
Casey nodded. “Here’s what we’re going to do…”
◆◆◆
The entire hangar bay went dark the instant the tarmac finished its descent. After a moment, scattered emergency lights offered dim, ruby illumination. Casey opened her shuttle’s airlock and powered her vessel down. Armed with ballistic long guns, clad now in their BICOM tactical armor, she led her crew through the darkened complex.
Up ahead near Blacktusk’s warthog, a din of confusion filled the air. Cones of light danced wildly, and someone tripped, crying out where they fell. “Be calm!” shouted Blacktusk. “Drake, bring me the gentleman in charge of this facility.”
“Aye-aye, captain,” said Drake. His hand-lamp bounced as he hurried down a nearby hallway, moving quickly out of sight.
“Wait here,” said Casey.
Malmoradan gestured for his crewmates to stop.
Shuttle Ergo stood nearby, utterly dark both inside and out. Burning bits of plating littered her perimeter, and scorched cavities pitted her hull. A stream of faintly glowing cryogenic fluid seeped from the airlock, flowing around Rinshi’s head, shoulders, and arms as he lay face down on the boarding ramp.
Casey kept out of sight as she hurried to the mphuno’s side. “Rinshi, are you alive?” she whispered, but she quickly discovered the two large holes Blacktusk had bored through Rinshi’s torso. Damn it, she thought. Rest in peace, old friend. Stealthily, she returned to her crewmates. “Rinshi’s dead.”
“That’s a shame,” whispered Malmoradan.
“I didn’t know him very well, but he seemed like a decent guy,” said Shona. “Is Ky okay?”
“I don’t know,” whispered Casey. “We need to rethink our tactics.”
“No plan survives contact with the enemy,” said April.
“Not helpful,” said Casey.
At that moment, Drake emerged from the hallway. He shoved along a gray-haired fellow who wore a brown Rocksaugh uniform. Rope bound his wrists. “Here he is, Captain,” said Drake.
“Good,” said Blacktusk. “Old man, it appears your facility has lost power. You will tell me how to restore it.”
“Can he do that?” whispered Casey.
April shook her head. “The whole network is checking, scanning, and restoring system health. It’ll be at least four hours before it’s done, and there’s no way to interrupt it.” She glanced toward the huddle. “With that being said, I’m sensing a lot of aggression coming from Blacktusk. I’m not sure the landing control operator has that much time.”
“Then we’ll need to act fast,” said Casey. “Malmoradan, I want you and April to take cover on this side of Ergo. She’s suffered heavy damage, so don’t risk making entry unless you’ve got no other choice. Shona—you and I will take position over there by that blast fence.”
“Aye, Captain,” said Shona.
“April, how’s your head?” asked Casey.
“It’s fine,” said April. “Who should I scan first?”
“No one,” said Casey. “I want phantasms.”
“I can only project one at a time,” said April, and she scanned the huddle of buccaneers. “There’s at least twenty of them, and two I’m not compatible with.”
“I only need you on Blacktusk,” said Casey, and she explained her plan.
Malmoradan and April snuck over to the shuttle Ergo and took position near the airlock. Malmoradan cocked his rifle and rested its bipod on the boarding ramp. April sat cross-legged on the deck and closed her eyes.
Casey and Shona slipped through the shadows. The calico ocelini perked up, glancing their way, and they froze. She peered toward them awhile longer before turning back to her ragtag comrades. Breathing a sigh of relief, Casey led Shona the rest of the way to a vacant docking spot and its jet blast deflector. Over the commlink, Casey said, “It’s showtime.”
April took a calming breath, and a ghostly shape stepped forth, passing through the boarding ramp. It coalesced as it moved, taking on Casey’s appearance by the time Blacktusk could see it. On instinc
t, the pirate captain drew his oversized pistol. “Who are you?” he demanded.
The Casey phantasm drew its pistol in response. “Drop your weapons, all of you,” it said. “You’re all under arrest!”
Blacktusk’s buccaneers looked between themselves as Blacktusk guffawed. “Captain, who are you talking to?” asked Drake.
“An overconfident police officer,” said Blacktusk.
“No, it’s an illusion meant exclusively for you,” said Orin, and he stepped into view from within the warthog. “No one else can see it.” Dressed in stylish swashbuckler’s attire, he scoffed in the direction of Casey’s image. “There’s a binary somewhere close by that’s making it.” Narrowing his eyes, he scanned the hangar bay, and his gaze stopped at the shuttle Ergo. “There they are, on the other side of Ky’s shuttle.”
“Malmoradan, take out Blacktusk,” said Casey. “Everyone else, fire at will!”
“Aye, Captain,” said Malmoradan. He pulled the trigger, and thunder filled the hanger. The phantasm vanished as Casey took aim at the calico ocelini and fired. Shona raised her shotgun at the closest buccaneers. Plasma blasts and gunfire shattered the air. Bullets ricocheted off the jet blast deflector, and plasma bolts drilled through the shuttle Ergo.
“Stop this!” shouted Orin. “Everyone, cease fire!”
“Captain?” questioned Drake.
Blacktusk grinned at the massive bullet bobbing harmlessly in front of his forehead. “Yes, yes, everyone cease fire. Let us see what Mr. Webb has up his sleeve!”
Orin hopped down with his arms outstretched. As he lowered them to his sides, all the bullets fired from Casey’s crew fell to the deck. Slowly, he approached the shuttle Ergo. “Show yourselves!”
Casey tapped her commlink. “Stay where you are. Nobody moves. April, I’ve got Orin in my sights. Use your phantasm to distract him. We’ve only got one shot at this.”
“You’re going to kill him?” asked April. Casey’s thoughts flashed through her mind, and she gasped. “That was your plan the whole time.”
“I’m sorry, but there’s no other way,” said Casey.
“Yes, there is,” said April, and she deactivated her commlink. She crawled under the boarding ramp and emerged with her hands up. “Hello, Orin.”
He regarded her curiously. “Do I know you?”
“It’s me, April. Don’t you remember me?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t,” said Orin. “Tell the rest of your people to surrender. Immediately!”
“She doesn’t give the orders,” said Casey. She stepped out from behind the jet blast deflector, set down her rifle and sidearm, and she put her hands behind her neck. “I do.”
With a discouraged sigh, Shona placed her weapon on the deck and stood at Casey’s side. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” she muttered.
“This is April’s play,” said Casey. “Follow her lead.”
“Ah, hell,” grumbled Malmoradan, and he stepped into view with his hands clasped behind his head.
“Just the four of you?” asked Blacktusk.
“That’s right,” said Casey.
Blacktusk turned his attention to his buccaneers. “Check the hangar for others.” As his minions split up into teams, he addressed Broose and nodded toward Casey. “Search them. Bring me their ID cards and any hidden weapons you find.”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” said Broose, and he searched Shona first.
Before long, he handed Casey’s sidearm and all four identity cards to Blacktusk.
“Thank you. Please stay close,” said Blacktusk, and he retrieved his datapad. One by one, he scanned each card. “Cassiopeia Andromeda Cartwright, contracted deputy star marshal-errant in the employ of the Interstellar Police Force.” He tabbed through Casey’s public profile. “Much of this is redacted. How delightful! Drake, you will tie her up and put her in the warthog when I have finished my assessment.”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” said Drake.
Blacktusk studied his datapad. “April Sattari.” He glanced up at her. “No middle name.” He scanned her profile. “Independent binary. Deputized through association. Only child and cousin to Ms. Cartwright. How unfortunate for you that your parents are of modest means.” He shook his head and moved on to the next entry. “Shona Charlotte Chelsea. Orphan from Gladius Prime, adopted by an anonymous sponsor.” Blacktusk laughed. “You must have had great expectations, Ms. Chelsea. Next!” With a heartless smile, he scanned the last profile. “Malmoradan Taig, son of Moradrendan, son of Dalmoradur.” He sneered at the ocelini. “Dishonored and disgraced. What a shame. Broose, please tie these three up. Put them in the other shuttle with Ky Rego. Be quick about it. Fox Mendes is almost here.”
Broose mustered a rocky grin. “With pleasure, Captain.”
He and Drake set to binding their prisoners.
Blacktusk released the landing control operator. “You may return to your station. Please do what you can to restore power as quickly as possible. My men will be monitoring your communication, so please do not do anything foolish.”
“I won’t. You have my word. Thank you,” said the operator, and he hurried for the halls, quickly moving out of sight.
◆◆◆
Mike stood gazing through a tall viewport. Asteroid debris drifted away, cluttering his view of the stars. Torsha faced the door, draped across a large, luxurious, recessed bed. She pointedly ignored the periscopic viewport directly above her. In the form of a miniature blimp, Nimbus floated near the decorated overhead. He bumped against the nearest bulkhead until he reached the corner, at which point he drifted back to where he started and resumed bumping against the bulkhead. Upon his gondola, he repeatedly printed, “…”
“Do you have to keep doing that?” asked Torsha.
“Torsha Madagan, you are not required to observe my activity,” said Nimbus. “I have selected a low interaction mode that maintains continuous external input without draining unnecessary power. If you wish to suggest a more efficient configuration, I welcome it.”
“Efficient, huh? This coming from the guy who just took five minutes to ask me if I’ve got a better idea,” said Torsha, and she chuckled. “Whatever you say, Nimbus.”
“Five minutes did not elapse during the course of my response.”
“Okay, it just felt like five minutes,” she said.
Mike turned around. “Can we please try not to bicker? I don’t like being stuck in here any more than you do, but if we start turning on each other, this is going to be a very long trip.”
“As if it isn’t already,” she said.
“Torsha, please,” said Mike, and the room went dark. An instant later, emergency lights turned everything to shades of red. Claxons blared throughout Fox Mendes, and their room’s maglock disengaged.
“What’s going on?” asked Torsha.
Nimbus descended and assumed the form of a four-legged, clockwork spider. “Torsha Madagan, perhaps it is a drill.”
“I don’t think so,” said Mike. “They usually announce those kinds of things ahead of time.” Cautiously, he approached the door and heard shouts coming from the passageways ahead. “It’s definitely not a drill.”
“Then what is it?” asked Torsha.
Mike listened awhile longer. “It sounds like fighting. I think we’ve been boarded.”
“By the BICOM team?” asked Torsha, and she held up her arms.
“No, not them,” said Mike. “I’m going out there to have a look. You two can wait here if you want. I’m sure it’s much safer in here.”
“Fat chance of that,” said Torsha, and she hurried to his side.
Nimbus approached. “Miguel Santos, neither will I abandon you to the dangers of whatever awaits us in the passageways ahead. Unfortunately, I must dispute your assertion. Without the ability to secure the room, our confines offer little risk reduction.”
“Good point,” said Mike. “Thanks, guys.” He slid the door aside and exited, with his friends right behind. They saw a line of Fox Mendes c
rew members filing past with their arms behind their heads. Two armed buccaneers guided them along the passageways.
The moment they rounded the corner, Mike pounced. He pulled one of the invaders backward, bearing him down to the deck. Mike disarmed his foe and seized his plasma rifle, using its butt to strike the pirate in the head, knocking him out cold.
Torsha dragged the unconscious buccaneer into a nearby room. As she tied him up with a set of bedsheets she’d found, Mike and Nimbus hurried to join the procession. “Where’d you go?” asked the pirate. He was a snow white ocelini with a slight build and loose clothing. Glancing sidelong, he reared back. “Wait, who the hell are you? What’s going on?”
“Changing of the guard,” said Mike. He smiled and smashed his weapon into the ocelini’s teeth. After another blow to the head, the pirate collapsed, and Mike scooped up his rifle. Torsha emerged and exchanged nods with Mike. He looked pointedly at the other pirate.
“I just got done tying the first guy up,” she said.
“Torsha, please?”
Rolling her eyes, she rushed over to drag the ocelini buccaneer away.
Moving quickly, Mike caught up to the rearmost crewmember. He hissed quietly, drawing her attention. “Here,” he said, and he handed her the rifles. “Find someone who can use these.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“How many are there?”
“I don’t know,” said the crewmember. “There’s at least two more port side, near the Deck 2 ladder. One of them’s in a mech suit, so be careful.”
Mike nodded. “Where did they breach?”
She shrugged and shook her head. “Sorry.”
“Not to worry.” He placed his hands on the rifles and lightly pushed. “Good luck!” He dashed along the passageway, retracing his steps, and Nimbus followed.
Torsha pulled a set of sheets from a recessed bunk bed and hurried over to the incapacitated ocelini. She spun around on Mike and Nimbus as they entered the room, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “What did you find out?” she asked.