by Zach Winderl
“You sure you’re up for this?” Shi asked. “I mean, you dinged your pan.”
“I’ll be fine, the medoc cleared me.” Atom set Margo down and rose to his feet with a grin. “Said I just needed some rest.”
“Good to hear.” Shi focused on picking at her thumbnail. “Then now’s a good time.”
“Good for what?” Atom asked with concern.
“Payback.” She looked up with a wicked grin, just as Hither, who had risen in silence behind Atom, kicked him in the thigh with all her considerable power.
The blow dropped Atom to the deck to writhe in pain, clutching at his leg.
“What?” he managed to grunt between short gasping breaths. Fighting through the agony, he tried to rise to his feet. Only Daisy’s stone grip saved him from collapsing again.
“She won’t be as purdy as my shined eye, but I’d say we’re square.”
Centering himself, Atom watched as Shi rose and scooped a wide-eyed Margo from the deck. She hitched the girl on her hip and strolled with Hither from the galley, chatting and laughing about docking at Gomori Alpha. With a growl he shook his head and patted Daisy on the shoulder.
“Her shiner served a purpose.” He looked to Daisy. “That was just vindictive.”
Daisy shrugged. “Bruise for bruise…”
“Makes the whole hand purple,” Byron said with a laugh as he buttoned up his project and flipped a short plasma blade from the stock with a smug look of approval.
***
They approached the outer docking ring of the station, carving through the silent Black as Daisy reversed engines to slow their approach. Atom stood in the center of the small bridge and watched as the pilot tweaked docking vectors and eased back on the engine output.
“What are the specs on this station?” Atom asked Hither.
“Small,” she replied from her seat at the navigator’s console.
Atom cocked his head to give her a sidelong glance and she smiled back.
“She has a perm-pop of less than two-fifty.” She skimmed through data scrolling across her hovering holo-screens. “Looks like she can handle around twenty-five hundred mouths at a time. She has twenty slips and handles up to medium class freighters.”
“Current occupancy?” Atom leaned over Daisy’s shoulder and squinted into the Black, trying to pick out the station from the gas giant she orbited and refined for fuel.
“Six. Two single passenger system hoppers, three mid-sized merchant ships, and the biggest ship is a modified Falcon-class marauder.”
“Merc or kaizoku?”
Hither’s fingers danced along the board and her face pinched in concentration. The One Way Ticket drew closer to the planet, and Atom located the station as it rounded the horizon and dropped into the golden-red backlighting of the giant.
“Seems legit merc,” Hither said, sticking out her lower lip as she back-scrolled through the information. “Although, there are several blanks in their reported dockings.”
Kozue chimed in. “These gaps correlate with attacks throughout the lower Fingers. Through deduction, I surmise this group maintains a legitimate appearance, but doesn’t pass on opportunities to slip a few ko in their pockets. Their fuel docks are too widespread. Either they are docking in smuggler stations, or pirating fuel from targets of opportunity.”
“Can you tell me about the attacks?” Atom asked.
“No survivors.” Hither looked over from her screen. “There is nothing to actually tie that ship to the attacks except the gaps in her documentation and her travel vectors.”
“Well, they’re docked here.” Atom straightened and stretched his back. “I’m assuming that puts them on the up and up for the moment. I say we proceed as planned, but keep ourselves light-footed around the merc crew. We all know how unpredictable mercs can be.
“What’s our dock time?” He watched the station loom.
“We’re looking at twenty-three tocks.” The pilot glanced at his console.
“Keep us on track, Daisy.” Atom turned from the Black. “The rest of us need to get ourselves ready. We move fast. As soon as Lilly marks us she’ll drop back in the Black.”
Hither slipped from her seat and followed as Atom ducked through the hatch, leaving Daisy in peace.
***
As they drew near the station, Atom returned to the bridge with Margo on his back and his rail-pistol at his hip. He unclipped Margo and set her down. With a giddy giggle she ran past Daisy to press her nose against the plasteel canopy framing the pilot’s station.
Gomori Alpha loomed, like a two-hundred-kilometer silo, spinning on its side.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been on a fueling station.” Atom dropped into the empty seat at the com-station, across the narrow bridge from Hither’s usual seat. He propped his feet up on the console. “Not much money to be made here, just money spent.”
“It’s what makes them fun,” Daisy growled as he tapped the tiller to adjust vector.
“Although, I wonder if I could pick up a deal here?”
Daisy looked back, curiosity tickled. “Pass or parcel?”
“Depends on what needs delivering and where the drop is.” Atom pulled his rail-pistol and checked the load. “I’ll put you and Shi on that. Checking the boards will give you two a legitimate errand while you keep your ocs split for Lilly. We find something that fits and we might put a little bonus on top of this job.”
Before Daisy could reply, Margo yelped in fright and leaped back just as an object thudded off the canopy.
“What was that?” Atom demanded as he shot to his feet.
“Looked like a body,” Daisy stated, adjusting course again.
“A body?” Atom squeezed himself in beside Daisy and strained to see beyond the ship.
“It’s gone, whatever it was.” Daisy focused on the station. “We’re still moving too fast for anything like that to stay with us. Plus, we probably sent it off on a tangent that’ll make it tougher to track.”
“Kozue,” Atom called out as he gathered up Margo and stepped back behind Daisy. “Did you get a good look at that with the sensors?”
“Daisy was correct. I am impressed by his observational skills. IDing an object in space on the fly takes uncanny ability.” Her voice lent a sense of surrealism to the moment. “The object that struck the ship was in fact a body. By my sensors, it was a male of approximately sixty-two kilograms.”
“Was it a burial or a tossing?”
“He was not bound, so I would surmise he was forced into space alive.”
Atom hesitated, weighing the situation. “Daisy, take us in easy. Last thing I want is to run into something worse than a body. I’ll be down in the hold with the others. Meet up with us as soon as you’ve completed docking procedures.”
Daisy grunted and kicked up the power to the reversed engines.
Casting one last glance at the growing space station, Atom turned and headed for the hold. At his hip, Margo hummed a soft lullaby Kozue had once sung to the children. She clutched his jacket in a firm grip as she scanned the familiar halls of the One Way Ticket.
Just as Atom reached the top of the hold steps, Kozue cut through the silence. “Atom, there is an incoming communication,” she said with concern.
“From the station?” Atom pulled up, waiting with one hand resting on the railing.
“No, this communication is being relayed through the station, but I’m still trying to track the origins. Do you want me to patch it through or would you rather take it at the com station?”
“Just patch it.”
“Atom Ulvan?” a voice asked after a brief pause.
“Speaking.”
“This is Naomi Roberts Genko,” the woman let the name sink in.
“What’s the pleasure?”
“It has come to our attention that you failed in your attempt to apprehend the target. We consider this a breach of contract and as a result the contract is being terminated,” the woman fell silent.
A
tom traced a finger along the railing, his jaw clenched, but his voice remained steady. “Is there a reason I’m not being permitted to carry out this contract? I’ve never failed to fulfill a client’s order.”
“A representative of our han will find you to retrieve our deposit.” The woman cut the communication without another word, leaving Atom in stunned silence.
Atom set Margo down. The girl instantly scampered down the open steps to join the others on the hold floor. As she left, Atom dropped his head and gripped the railing until his knuckles popped.
“What’s ailin’ you, boss?” Shi called from the front of the empty hold when Margo’s approach alerted her to Atom’s glooming presence.
Atom rubbed his scalp with agitated vigor and stalked down the steps after Margo. It took him long enough crossing the hold to compose himself. Shi, Hither, and Byron stood near the front lock, waiting for the docking sequence to complete.
“We lost the job,” Atom growled as he approached the others.
They stared at him in amazement. They stood frozen, a tableau broken only by Margo tugging at Hither’s hand, wanting to be picked up.
“We don’t lose jobs,” the redhead said as she scooped Margo into her arms. Concern laced her features as she rocked the pint-sized girl. “Is there more? Do we have legal repercussions to worry about?”
“I don’t know. The Genkohan is sending a rep to collect the deposit.”
“Couldn’t they have requested that you send the money back through one of the banking guilds?”
“That would have been the easiest solution, terminate the contract electronically and give me a chance to send the funds back through the guild.” Atom closed his eyes and rubbed at them for a moment before snapping. “But they’re sending someone. In my gut I’m not seeing a single scenario where that’s a good thing.
“Just means we have an extra helpin’a trouble on our tails.” Shi crossed her arms beneath her rough poncho. “Ain’t like that’s nothin’ new to us. We got the whole dim ‘pire up our pipe. Jus’ notch one more han on the list.”
“What’s this mean for the girl?” Hither’s swaying lulled Margo and the girl’s head drooped in slow bobs.
Atom shook his head. “I haven’t folded that into my mind yet.”
“Do we press the plan?” Byron spoke up for the first time.
“Yes,” Atom said after some deliberation.
“What’s the end-game?” Hither asked in a hushed tone.
“That I haven’t figured out yet. I’m hoping to find my path by the time we find her.”
“Is she even here?” Shi grumped and hitched her gunbelt.
“She’s here.” Atom lifted his eyes to meet the gunslinger’s steely gaze. “And one more wrinkle, we’ve a merc ship in dock, so we change on the fly. I’ll go first and if they’re playing by civilized rules you all can come aboard. Lie low until I give the word.”
Around the circle a series of unhappy, yet understanding responses met his words.
***
Atom pushed the pram across the docking umbilical that stretched out from the station like a searching proboscis. On either side of the delicate structure, windows looked down to the swirling maelstrom of the gas giant below. Blues and greens danced in an eons old hurricane that measured against man like a stone beside a blade of grass.
The umbilical, built to handle larger ships, stretched out from the docking ring and left the One Way Ticket tethered on semi-rigid struts, several hundred meters from the station.
“I’ve heard they have wonderful baths here.” Margo spun her head to look up as Atom spoke. “It’s a byproduct of the gas mining. There are supposed to be healthful minerals lacing the water. Hopefully, when we get this all pressed out, we’ll have time for a relaxing soak. I’m pretty sure the crew could use the down time.”
Before Margo could reply, a man burst through the far lock and sprinted down the gangway toward them. Atom slowed his pace, but continued moving forward. Instinct forced his hand to flip his coat back and expose the rail-pistol at his hip.
Atom furrowed his brow.
The man drew closer. Blood seeped down the front of his tunic. As Atom watched, the man staggered and left a long, bloody swath down the window as he reached to catch himself.
“Help me,” he croaked and sank to his knees.
Atom eyed the man, both curious and cautious as he drifted the pram to the side, shielding Margo from the potential danger. As Atom closed on the man, his hand drifted from the pram to caress his pistol with absent-minded love.
The man, from his knees, stretched out a hand toward the pram.
Atom’s fingers slipped around the pistol’s familiar grip, but the man pitched forward with his arms flung wide and lay still. Without breaking stride, Atom kicked up the suspensors and floated the pram over the body with casual disdain.
He focused on the far hatch to the gangway.
As he approached, the portal hissed open to reveal a rough looking pair of mercenaries. Atom measured them as he drew near. Two men, tall and muscled in mismatched jumpsuits, they stood with arms crossed, barring the path into the space station. One wore a patch over his right eye and both desperately needed a shave.
“What brings you to this deck?” the patched man demanded.
Atom dropped his brown coat over his pistol and flashed a weary smile. “Fuel up and the pools.” He nodded back to his ship. “We’re running shy and I need a rest.”
The men exchanged a glance.
“You sure picked a rot time to drop in, but who’re we to deny your need for fuel.” The patched man bowed and spread his arms wide in mock welcome. “Come on in and fill your needs.”
As Atom moved to walk between the men, blasters appeared in ready palms, their muzzles pressed to Atom’s temples with magical swiftness. “But don’t hold us topped if you stay a touch longer than you’d planned,” the man said with a grin as his finger brushed the well-oiled trigger with familiar tenderness. “Oli, see to his arms.”
Grunting in assent, the wordless mercenary pulled Atom’s pistol from its holster and flipped it to his company without his blaster wavering. Atom’s eyes tracked the gun as it arced over Margo’s head.
“Ideas?” the patch asked, noting Atom’s attention.
Atom turned to the one-eyed man as the mercenary examined the pistol. Like his companion, he kept the muzzle of his blaster jammed against Atom’s temple.
“No.” Atom shook his head. “Family heirloom. It’s worth more in my mind.”
“That’s a bold one.” Patch grinned and slipped the rail-pistol into his belt. “This here’s a top shelf rail-pistol, eight shot cylinder, with a belt clip auto-loader. Probably costs more than some of those ships docked out there.
“In heart-touching honesty, I’ve only seen this rail-pistol in vids.” The man cocked his lonely eyebrow. “Only eight shots though. I’d prefer a blaster that’ll get you through a fight without a recharge. Why do you go that route?”
Atom looked at the man, thoughtful. “Stopping power. That gun will punch through just about any armor and shields don’t do a thing. It takes more skill than a pray and spray.”
The other mercenary pulled Atom’s second pistol from the back of his gunbelt.
“That’s not near as expensive,” Patch said with a shrug. “But it’s still a fine piece. Oli, you can hold onto that one. I’d believe it was the family heirloom over the first one.”
Oli grunted.
The patched man smiled a toothy grin and holstered his blaster. Oli followed suit. “Right this way, pops.”
“Who are you bokes?” Atom asked with an innocent air.
“Us?” Patch laughed. “We’re nobodies. We’re ghosts.
“Follow us, though,” he hitched up his sagging jumpsuit and headed for the interior of the station, waving for Atom to follow. Oli fell into step behind, like a specter, with his hand resting on the blaster thrust in his belt. “We’ll show you to the best inn on this platform. There
might even be a room left for the two of you.”
“Koze, tell the others to stay put,” Atom mumbled. “It’s worse than I thought.”
“You say something, pops?” Patch asked without turning.
“I was just telling my daughter that everything’s going to be fine.”
“It’s not good to lie to your kids.” A deep belly laugh shook the shoulders of the patched man and he led the way towards their unknown destination.
Atom strolled in stoic silence, following the path the mercenary carved through the space-station. Looking around them as they moved, Atom noted the destruction flowing through the streets and alleys of the station’s shopping decks. Storefronts and restaurants stood smashed in and filled with debris.
What had once been a thriving space-station now seemed a smoldering grave, full of ghostly whispers and the hiss of air flow. Sparks and emergency lights augmented the few remaining overhead lamps.
Observing with muted concern, Atom wrapped his head around possible outcomes to their venture.
Margo squeaked as a young woman burst around a corner and dashed into their path.
“Help me,” she pleaded, her hands on her knees.
Atom looked to the patched man, but he shook his head in warning and stepped to the side with his arms crossed. Oli loomed up behind Atom, waiting for an excuse. Calm reflected in Atom’s eyes as he returned his gaze to the girl in silent apology.
Before Atom could open his mouth, a hulking brute rumbled around the corner and grinned as he caught sight of his quarry.
Crying out in terror, the woman sprinted past Atom and fled down the corridor.
“Evening, Igs,” Patch called out. “What’s the word tonight?”
“Fresh meat.” The towering man leered after the fleeing woman as he lumbered after her. Drawing near the group he unlooped an electra-bola from his belt. “I aim to eat.”
Twirling his wrist, Igs scowled and measured distance. Then, with a powerful flick, he sent the bola sailing after his prey. For a moment Atom thought the woman had a chance, but the glowing, whip-like weapon snapped true and snaked around her ankles faster than a viper’s strike.