by J. N. Chaney
“You don’t have to be religious to meditate,” said Brigham, keeping his eyes shut. “My doctor says it’s good for my blood pressure.”
“That so?” I asked.
He nodded. “Stress kills, Captain. In my line of work, and at my age, you’re just as likely to die of an early heart attack as you are from a bullet.” He opened his eyes, looking at the gun on my hip, and then chuckled. “Well, maybe not quite as likely.”
“Have you thought about my proposal?” I asked.
He closed his eyes again. “You should really try this, Captain. I think you might find it refreshing. They say emptying your mind can improve your memory retention as well as your ability to focus.”
I stared at him, still waiting for an answer.
“In fact,” he continued. “I find myself picking out distinct background sounds I might have otherwise missed. You’d be amazed at how much white noise occurs on a starship.”
“I asked you a question,” I said.
“Take your ship, for example,” he said. “I’ve managed to pick out at least sixteen different sounds, each one totally distinct from the last. The fun comes from trying to figure out what they are and where they’re coming from.”
I felt myself tense, growing more agitated by the second. “I’m not playing this game with you,” I said. “And I don’t mean the one about the sounds. Either answer the question or the deal is off the table and we’ll have to do this the hard way.”
He licked his lips. “There’s one sound—let’s call it, number fifteen—a buzzing kind, almost electrical. It wasn’t here a moment ago, so I have to assume it’s new, and it seems to be moving inside the walls.” He tilted his head. “Yes, there it is again. It’s right behind there.” He pointed to the cargo bay wall, opposite the stairs. “Can’t you hear it?”
I glared at him, wishing he’d open his damn eyes and look at me, just so he could see how pissed I was getting. This fool thought he could sit there and ramble like an idiot about nothing, letting a war rage outside this ship, and for what? Was he so devoted to his cause that he’d willingly let himself die, not to mention all those soldiers?
I opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off when I paused, a low buzzing sound filling my ear. Like Brigham had said, the sound was coming from the far wall, but I’d never heard anything like it. Not aboard The Star, anyway.
“Siggy, what the hell is that?” I muttered.
“I’m afraid I don’t know, sir,” answered Sigmond. “I’m detecting slight vibrations along the hull, but the source is unknown.”
“Could it be debris from the moon?”
“Possible, but unlikely, sir.”
Brigham took a deep breath, pulling my attention back to him. “I know. Very strange. I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what it is, but I think I finally have it.”
My hand slid down my side and graced the butt of my pistol. “I’m going to ask you one more time for an answer. Are you going to tell your people to stand down or aren’t you?”
A thud echoed through the cargo hold.
Lucia turned to face the same wall I’d been looking at before. “Captain!” she snapped.
Another thud in the same location.
I took a step back, drawing my pistol, and holding Lucia’s shoulder. “What the hell is that?!”
Brigham finally opened his eyes again and looked at me, a calm smile smeared across his face. “That would be your answer, Captain.”
A loud crack boomed through the cargo bay as the wall tore open, knocking both Lucia and me against the staircase. I felt my legs pick up as atmosphere began to vent through the opening, but I managed to wrap an arm around the nearby railing.
I struggled to stabilize myself, my ears ringing from the blast. Brigham had both his arms around the doorway of his cell, maintaining his balance.
Inside the new fresh opening, three individuals appeared, one at a time. They were each wearing a gray spacesuit, their faces shielded by the helmet’s black tinted visor.
“Siggy!” I shouted. “Tell the others to get here!”
Lucia held the rail beside me, struggling to steady her staff.
The soldiers moved so slow that they still hadn’t come inside. Their boots seemed to be magnetized, impeding their speed.
One of them had a rifle out. If Lucia and I stayed here any longer, we’d be easy marks. But that wasn’t the worst of our problems. The cargo bay was losing pressure at an astonishing rate, which meant we had about fifteen seconds to get the hell out of here or risk blacking out. “Up the stairs!” I shouted.
I swung through the railing and grabbed hold of the fourth stair from the floor, reaching back for Lucia. She couldn’t take my hand without either letting go of the staff or the rail, which meant something would have to give.
“Drop the stick!” I yelled.
She clenched her jaw, wrinkling her rigid face in the process, and gave me a look that suggested she’d rather die than lose that weapon.
“Fine!” I said, and grabbed her other wrist.
She released the railing and allowed me to yank her through the side of the staircase.
I looked at Brigham, who was still holding the side of the wall. The old man stared back at me, then lifted his sleeve to reveal a small scar on his shoulder. Beneath the skin, a red light blinked, faintly, and he gave me a knowing smile.
I felt heat rising in me, almost enough to make me leap off the stairs in a vain effort to strangle him, but I pushed the feeling down and, instead, held onto Lucia with all my strength.
At that moment, Abigail and Freddie appeared on the second floor. “Holy shit!” she yelled from above us. She reached to a nearby security box and retrieved four oxygen masks, securing her own, then handing one to Freddie.
He strapped it on his face while Abby went to give me one of the others.
“Shoot them!” I barked, ignoring the mask.
“Put the godsdamn mask on!” she snapped.
I snarled, but took the device and strapped it on, activating the switch and finally taking a clean breath of air. The container would only last a few minutes—enough time to get to a secured area, away from a breach, but I had little interest in running.
Abigail ran to the edge of the upper railing and took aim with her rifle.
Two of the soldiers reacted with their own weapons, returning fire on her from below.
I handed Lucia the other mask, helping her secure it while she tried to steady her staff long enough to fire.
“Watch your ears!” she yelled as I activated her breather.
The end of the staff lit up, sparking twice before releasing a large burst of energy into the group of enemy troops. It slammed into the one nearest to the opening, hitting him with enough force to detach his magnetized feet from the ship and sending him back into space.
One of the two remaining soldiers immediately turned his attention to us and prepared to return fire, telling me it was time to move our collective asses. I scurried up the stairs, still holding Lucia, right as the soldier began firing.
Three other suited individuals entered through the opening, all of them wearing the same armor. Two of them carried what appeared to be an empty suit, quickly bringing it to Brigham.
One of Abigail’s bullets managed to hit the first soldier in the visor, cracking it, followed by another direct hit to the boot, disabling the magnet and causing his foot to dislodge from the floor.
“Don’t let them leave!” shouted Abigail.
“Sir, please be advised that the ship is losing orbital stability,” informed Sigmond. “We will enter the planet’s atmosphere in less than five minutes.”
“Did he just say we’re losing orbit?” asked Freddie.
“Nevermind that!” I snapped, pointing to the soldiers currently doing a number on my ship. “Focus on them!”
Freddie didn’t argue. He scrambled beside Abigail and the two of them resumed firing. I helped Lucia stabilize her staff and gave her a quick n
od, then retrieved my pistol from my holster and took aim.
Lucia’s blast, along with a shower of bullets, fell on the armored soldiers. One of my shots managed to hit the same visor that Abigail’s had, but instead of simply cracking it, the whole thing broke apart, shattering into pieces. The bullet continued into the man’s skull, causing him to fall like a limp doll onto the floor, his feet still firmly planted by his magnetic boots.
Two of the soldiers had already made their way to Brigham, although we couldn’t see him. The cell was directly beneath us, which meant the only way we’d be able to shoot him would be to expose ourselves.
I tried to lean closer to the edge to get a better look at what was happening down there when a bullet deflected off the railing, sending me back on my ass. “Watch out!” screamed Abigail. She stopped firing to look at me, genuine concern in her eyes.
“I’m fine!” I said, and starting shooting again.
“Sir, please be advised that we are losing atmosphere. I strongly advise you to evacuate,” said Sigmond.
“Not until we’ve stopped—”
“Sir, please, if you delay any longer, the shuttle may not have sufficient time to vacate,” advised Sigmond. “You must depart immediately or—”
“Godsdammit!” I raged, firing the last few bullets I had in my pistol. I grabbed Freddie by the shoulder and pulled him away from the overhang. “Let’s go!”
“What about Brigham?!” shouted Abigail.
I shoved Freddie towards the exit, motioning for him to run. “We’ll get him later! Everyone, get to the shuttle!”
Lucia let out her hand to Abby. “You heard the fool!”
Abigail looked back at the men, her eyes still full of fury, and then she groaned and took Lucia’s hand.
I snatched her rifle away and laid down some cover fire. “Hurry!”
Abigail followed Lucia to the hall, then stopped and pulled away, looking back at me. “Jace, let’s go!”
The rifle clicked, letting me know the magazine was empty. I stared down at the soldiers, two of which were returning from beneath my position, along with an added third soldier between them. “Brigham!” I shouted to the man in the middle.
He turned to me, giving a slight wave. His face was obscured by his darkened visor, but I could sense him smiling at me.
The men stomped their way to the edge of the ship, waiting for a moment as their shuttle decloaked right in front of them.
“Jace!” called Abigail.
I squeezed the rifle and, in a fit of anger, threw it over the side of the rail, cursing as I finally ran to join my crew. I passed into the hall with Abigail right beside me, and we bolted for the shuttle dock on the other end of the ship.
The Star was going to crash and there was nothing I could do about it. As we neared the shuttle entrance, I veered off and ran towards the cockpit. “I’ll be right back!”
“What are you doing?!” called Abigail.
But I was already gone, halfway down the hall. I reached the cockpit door, which was still open, and jumped inside. The room was a mess, half my stuff knocked free from inside the dash drawer. I grabbed my pad, two personal shields, and the Foxy Stardust bobblehead that was still sitting on the dash.
I snatched the toy up and examined it. “Can’t forget you, old girl.”
The ship shook, nearly knocking me off my feet. It was time to go, and I didn’t have long to do it. I raced out of the cockpit and back towards the shuttle, my heart pounding like it wanted to break out of my chest.
Everyone was already strapped in and waiting when we reached the vehicle, waiting for the two of us to catch up.
“Safety check?” I asked as I leapt into the pilot’s seat.
“Already done, sir,” answered Sigmond.
I lowered my harness and snapped the buckle into place, bringing up the holo display and examining our current trajectory. The Renegade Star was in freefall inside the planet’s atmosphere, which meant we’d have to compensate as we detached.
“Are we good to launch?” asked Abigail.
“Hold, please,” said Sigmond. “Detachment in progress. Activating miniature thrusters and maneuvering away from—”
Something knocked the side of the shuttle and rattled the ship.
“On second thought,” continued Sigmond. “Hold on tight, please.”
The thrusters kicked in and we reversed, then dropped beneath the bottom of the descending ship.
A proximity alert beeped on the holo. I dismissed it, since the danger was obvious. We were flying right next to a burning ship. My ship. And it was about to crush us if we didn’t get out of the way.
I hit the accelerator and took us forward, coming free of The Star, but not enough. The rear of the shuttle shook, hurting our balance. A piece of The Renegade Star had broken free, slamming into our side and disabling one of our thrusters. “Shit!” I snapped. “We’re losing stability!”
“Compensating,” replied Sigmond.
“What’s happening?!” shouted Freddie.
“We lost half our mobility!” I yelled. “We don’t have enough thrust to break orbit!”
“Does that mean we have to land?” asked Dressler.
Freddie grabbed the side of my chair. “I think it means we have to crash!”
Sixteen
We didn’t crash, but it wasn’t exactly smooth, either. More like something in the middle.
“Everyone okay?” I asked, rubbing my aching neck. The loss of an engine had forced us into a swift landing, so a rough impact had been expected. Still, knowing that didn’t make it any easier.
“I’m okay,” muttered Dressler.
“S-Same here,” said Freddie, who’d somehow found a way to wrap his harness strap around his shoulder, but was now untangling himself.
“How about Lucia?” I asked.
“Fine, boy,” she answered. “Do you think me so feeble?”
“Well,” I said, pausing a second.
“The correct answer is, No,” said the old woman.
I gave her a blank stare, then turned to Abby. “And you?”
“I’m good,” she said, quickly. “We need to contact Titan and request a rescue immediately. Is Sigmond still—” She stopped talking, closing her eyes and holding the side of her head and letting out a light groan.
I reached out a hand to her. “Abby?”
“J-Just a headache,” she said, her voice suddenly softer. “I was asking if Sigmond is still connected. Is he?”
“Yes, Ms. Pryar,” answered Sigmond. His voice came from all around us, emitting from multiple speakers and taking most of us by surprise. “The battle has intensified, but should soon resolve. Athena estimates half an hour before a rescue attempt can be made.”
“That’s not bad,” said Freddie.
“It’s not good, either,” added Dressler.
“Everyone get outside this ship for right now,” I said, breaking up the discussion. “The Union can track this ship, unlike the others from Titan. That means we might have company soon.”
“What about Abigail?” asked Freddie.
“I’ll be fine, Frederick,” she said, still holding her temple.
Dressler leaned closer to her. “No, you need a first aid kit.” She snapped a finger at Freddie. “Quick, reach into that compartment.”
“What are you planning, Doc?” I asked.
“Unless you used all the pills, there should be some painkillers in there,” she explained.
Freddie did as she asked, locating a small box and quickly handed it to her.
Seeing Abigail like that concerned me, but we didn’t have time to sit around. I tried opening the door, but the crash had placed us in an odd position, half-buried in the dirt. Lucia, Billins, and I pushed the door open, managing to crack it after only a few seconds.
“Wait a minute,” said Freddie. “What about the atmosphere? None of us have our suits.”
“We’ll have to take the chance that it’s safe,” said Dressler.
As the hatch opened, I felt a wave of heat enter the ship. The air was thick and humid, and it was dog hot. We were in the middle of—well, not a desert, but a shitload of sand. No clouds or trees for coverage, but I could see a city in the distance, maybe five kilometers away.
“Where the hell are we?” asked Abigail, squinting under the bright sun.
I brought up my holo map on my wrist, showing the layout of the planet. We were between two different cities, but dark clouds and heavy rain blocked the opposite horizon. “Looks like two options. East or West.”
“Which is better?” asked Freddie.
“Clearer skies make for faster hiking,” I said. “But that’s where we parked our ships.”
“You mean the diversion,” said Dressler.
I nodded. “The whole place is probably swarming with troops. We’d best avoid it.”
“And the other city?” she asked.
“Heavy clouds,” I said, looking at the dark sky to the West. “But it might be our only chance.”
There was a short pause.
“I’m certain General Brigham is mobilizing a team to locate us,” said Dressler.
“No question,” I agreed.
“At the same time, the mobilized ground forces to the East are likely to be redeployed to our position, which means we have little choice in the matter.”
“West it is, then,” said Abigail.
“What about this one?” asked Lucia, bending an eye to Billins.
The poor sergeant squirmed at the glare the old woman gave him.
“He won’t do anything,” I said, leaning closer to him. “Right, Billins?”
“R-Right, sir,” he answered.
“Good man,” I said, smacking his shoulder and walking past him. “’Cuz we’ll shoot you if you try anything.”
He stiffened.
“He’s kidding,” whispered Freddie.
“No, he’s not,” said Lucia, glaring at the sergeant.
“Sir,” interjected Sigmond. “Titan is detecting ship movement in low orbit. Five vessels are currently descending towards The Renegade Star’s crash site.”