by T. M. Catron
Rance stood and walked over to the ladder. At least her toe looked better. The meds were kicking in. But she was still going to have to force it into a pair of boots.
Solaris followed her down the ladder and through the top level.
“Second,” she said when she reached her own quarters, “we pretend to be the most law-abiding citizens in the empire.”
“Now I know you’re insane,” he said. “There is such a thing as looking too perfect.”
Rance entered her cabin and grabbed her boots—not the magnetic ones. She eased her foot into the first one. When it didn’t hurt, she hurriedly put on the second. “These guys tend to get bored and restless. Not much action out here in the DEEP unless they get lucky and find pirates. They’re just itching to arrest somebody and haul them to the nearest Triton-controlled planet or waystation. So, we don’t give them any reason.”
“Sounds like you’ve already done this a few times.”
Rance shot Solaris a look as she eased back out the door.
“Captain? How many times?”
“Once.”
Surprised, Solaris stopped in his tracks. “Really? You’re basing your plan of action on one incident?”
“It’s not the worst plan. What else should we do? Rush to tell them about all the illegal operations we’ve completed? Give up the names of all the contacts we’ve made this side of the Nilurian Belt? Or maybe tell them your real name, or mine for that matter.”
“I was merely suggesting you have a bit better cover.”
“We don’t need it. We’re nobodies. And I try to keep it that way, Roote. Now, are you ready?”
Solaris looked torn, like he had something on his mind but didn’t want to say it.
“What?” she asked as they descended the stairs.
He shook his head.
“Stanley Alto,” the officer said, “make sure all crew is present and accounted for when we arrive.”
Rance pressed a button on her handset. “Ready and waiting, Lieutenant. I ought to warn you—only one of you can fit through at a time. Sorry about that. It’s on the list of upgrades I’d like to make.”
The comm was silent.
“You’ve scared them, boss,” Abel said seriously. “They don’t want to walk into an ambush. Using that airlock, we could pick them off one by one if we wanted to.”
“If that were the plan, Abel, I wouldn’t have told them about the airlock.”
“Unless they suspected you were lying to make them let their guards down,” James said.
Tally shook his head in rebuke.
“What?” James asked. “I wasn’t trying to be funny.”
The airlock hissed open, and an armored soldier entered the inner chamber and waited for it to close. He watched them through the tiny porthole, his face obscured by his lowered visor.
“Don’t try anything funny, Stanley,” the lieutenant said over the comm.
James snorted.
“Our guys are going to signal when they’re over safely. If they don’t, we’re going to blast your ship all the way to the Belt.”
“That’s all?” Rance asked.
Tally glared at her cheekiness. James smirked. Solaris looked worried, as did Harper. Only Abel remained neutral-looking like an inspection was all part of a days’ work. Few things ever bothered him. He’d been more upset about Solaris’ joke about eating Henry.
Rance tried to follow suit and stay calm, but couldn’t help feeling irritated at Unity’s intrusion. After their delays, all she wanted to do was reach Prometheus without anything else going wrong.
The first soldier stood inside the tiny airlock, waiting for the pressure to equalize. With his armor, he barely fit.
This inspection wouldn’t take long. The Star Streaker was a small ship. The few secret panels under the hold and in engineering were accessible only by a secret passcode tapped in the exact right location. Even if the Unity soldiers could open the hatches, they didn’t have anything inside them on this trip. Rance only had to hold her tongue for a few minutes. And stay calm.
But facing down Unity was different from facing down pirates. She considered both and decided she’d rather go with pirates. At least pirates couldn’t take her back to her father.
“Harper, what’d you do with that problem drive?” Rance whispered, referring to the Caducean Drive that held Deliverance.
“Stowed carefully where no one will find her, Captain.”
Rance nodded in relief. If Harper hid it, even Rance might not be able to find it unless she took the ship apart. She trusted her crew completely. They joked and quarreled like siblings, but in the end, they were her family. And she trusted each one of them with her life.
The airlock really needed an upgrade. Rance had been staring at that helmeted soldier for two whole minutes.
Finally, the light over the door turned green, and the soldier squeezed through. He stood tall in his black armor, as tall as Rance. The standard-issue armor carried Unity’s insignia on the breastplate—a trident, a hammer, and a sparrow. The three emblems of the separate armies that had formed the original military force of Triton.
In the beginning, the Empire Triton had been an alliance only. Now, the separate ruling entities had melded into one big conglomerate under one command—the Emperor Supreme. He controlled Unity, the largest single military force in the history of mankind.
The door hissed closed, and the soldier looked around at the crew. They stood as non-threateningly as they could, with their hands relaxed at their sides.
He fixed his gaze on Solaris.
Did he recognize him somehow? Or was he just surprised at his height? Solaris always looked too big, even in the hold where the ceiling was taller.
The black soldier studied him a minute, then swept his eyes across to Rance. He paused. Rance’s heart beat faster. She tried to calm down, knowing he was probably reading her vital signs with the sensors in his helmet. But her body was rebelling. Her hand wanted to fidget. She forced it to remain still.
No one said anything, and the drawn-out silence became awkward.
To take her mind off the soldier’s scrutiny, Rance focused on using her ZOD to study his armor. It was good—even the patrols out in the DEEP got regular upgrades. Strong, nearly seamless joints, weapons attachments on every appendage, even the gauntlet, which looked like it could extend claw-like razor blades from each finger.
Ignoring the battle-ready armor and the other soldier waiting in the airlock, Rance swallowed her anxiety and stepped forward.
“Inspection’s over,” she said, adopting her most commanding tone. “At least of my crew. You are welcome to look around the ship, but we are on a tight schedule.”
“Are you the captain?” the soldier asked.
“I’m Captain Cooper,” she said. “This is my ship. You’ll find the registration is in order. Will any more of you be joining us?”
The next soldier came through the inner door of the airlock and closed it behind him. Then, he turned to the crew. His darkened visor turned straight to Rance. Since she couldn’t see his face, it made his silence worse. Not being able to read the soldiers’ facial expressions was putting her at a disadvantage.
The second soldier stepped forward, stopped, and faced Rance. Then, he tilted his head a degree to the side, as if in surprise.
“Devri?” he asked.
Rance’s blood ran cold, and a shiver traveled down her spine. How did that soldier know her real name? After all, she didn’t look much like Devri anymore. Only someone who’d known her well would even recognize her. Why, why hadn’t she taken Solaris up on his offer to change her face too?
In a split-second decision, Rance decided the best course of action was to play dumb.
“Who?” she asked.
The soldier flipped a latch on his helmet and pulled it off his head. His short, dark hair was slicked back, his features brown, like someone who was a native of Xanthes. Rance’s heart sank to her knees. Playing dumb wouldn’t wor
k with this one.
“Hello, Devri,” he said. “You have to remember me.”
Rance sighed. “Hello, Turkey.”
Beside her, James raised an eyebrow. Rance ignored him.
Turkey smiled. “So you do remember. How long has it been?”
“Ummm, Captain?” Harper asked.
“Six or seven years, I think,” Rance said. She looked at Harper. “This is Alaster Arnold—we always called him Turkey at the Xanthes Flight Academy. Although I guess we should call him Lieutenant now.”
Of course, someone from the XFA would recognize her, better than her Noble friends. At the Academy, Rance had looked much like she did now. No make-up, hair pulled back, flight suit. What were the odds she’d run into someone she knew out here?
The game was up. She might as well let them put her in energy cuffs right now.
“I heard you’d left that dustball rock we called home,” the lieutenant said. He nodded to the other soldier who took off into the galley and lower level, beginning his inspection.
Turkey approached Rance. The crew stiffened, all of them alert to a possible attack.
“I also heard about why you left,” Turkey said quietly.
“Turkey—”
He held up his hand to cut off Rance’s plea, and looked at the others, aware of their proximity and their dour expressions. But none of them would be a match for the lieutenant in his armor, except maybe Solaris. An image of Solaris fighting armored soldiers on Doxor 5 sprang to Rance’s mind. He had taken them out with ease then. But if he were to fight, he’d give away his identity.
Too bad Abel hadn’t donned his armor, but he’d left it off in the interest of looking cooperative. No, fighting wasn’t their best option right now.
Rance had got the distinct impression Turkey was trying not to talk too much while the other soldier was close, and a small ray of hope ran through her. She shook off her fear and looked Turkey straight in the eye.
“What are you going to do?”
She never liked orbiting a topic when she could land right on it.
Turkey seemed to decide Abel was the biggest threat and kept one eye on him as he addressed Rance.
“You do know there’s an exorbitant reward out for your return to your father?”
James scoffed. “Listen, Lieutenant.”
Tally shook his head at James in warning. Turkey saw the gesture and stared at Tally. “I know who you are too.”
“Look at me,” Rance said, drawing his gaze away from her friends. “I’m the captain. What are you going to do?”
There was no love lost between Rance and Turkey. Even though he’d been a year ahead of her, they’d been rivals in the XFA competitions. In rival Houses, on rival teams. He had been good, not great. But he was a favorite among his superiors because he always toed the line. With Turkey, rules were rules. Rance hoped he’d changed.
“What I’m supposed to do,” Turkey said finally as if he were offended she’d even asked. “Not only is there a reward, but all of Unity is under strict orders to arrest you on sight.”
That answered her question. He was still the same when it came to rules. “And yet I notice you haven’t commed your captain and escorted me to the brig on your ship.”
Turkey shook his head. “Not the brig, a secure cabin. We’d be blasted into the Razor Nebula if we put Davos’ daughter in the brig.”
“Alright, that’s enough,” Solaris said. The talk of putting Rance in the brig had finally made him burst. “The captain is not going anywhere with you.”
“And you are?”
“My name is Roote. I’m the CO aboard this ship, and you’ve made a grave error, Lieutenant.”
Turkey smiled. “Have I? Do you know who your captain is?”
A bead of sweat ran down Rance’s back. How would they get out of this? She tried to remember something—anything—to use against Turkey. He’d come from a poor family, she remembered. With all that talk of the reward, he seemed motivated by money.
And then she had an idea. She glanced back at the galley where the other soldier had disappeared. “Lieutenant, can I talk to you in private?”
“If you think you’re going to change my mind—”
Rance shook her head. “No, but I think there’s something you need to be aware of.”
Without waiting for an answer, Rance turned and climbed the stair to the top level. The only place they could get privacy would be the cockpit. When Turkey made to follow her, Solaris, James, and Abel all headed for the stairs, like they meant to go too.
Rance turned to them. “I said, in private. Stay here.”
“Captain,” James warned.
Rance glared him into silence. “I’ll call you if you’re needed. This way, Lieutenant.”
He followed her all the way to the cockpit. He was barely able to fit up the ladder in his armor, and no way was he sitting down. That was okay. Rance didn’t want to sit, anyway.
He angled himself where he could see the hatch as if he anticipated a double-cross of some kind.
“Look,” Rance began without preamble. “Is there anything I can say that would make you let me go? As in, poof, we just disappeared?”
Turkey laughed. “No. Why don’t you want to go back to your father?”
Rance shot him a disgusted look and then remembered she was going to be civilized with him.
“If it’s about the money,” she said. “I can figure out a way to get it to you.”
“I doubt it. You have ten million credits hiding out in a bank somewhere?”
Rance gaped at him, choking over the amount. When had the reward for her arrest gone so high?
“Come on, Devri. Go quietly, and maybe we’ll be lenient to your crew.”
Another cold shiver ran down Rance’s back. “What do you mean?”
“They’re involved too. Aiding and abetting.”
Rance snorted. “That’s not right, and you know it. I’m the captain of this ship. They’re only here for the paycheck.”
“I doubt that. They have willingly helped you. The frightened looks on their faces when I said your real name told me all I needed to know. They weren’t surprised. They were worried about you. Still, their loyalty is admirable. Stupid, but admirable.”
“I can get you something else. Not money.”
“There’s nothing you can say that will persuade me. And you don’t have anything of value anyway, except this ship. I can’t very well take that, can I?”
Rance’s mouth went dry. “What’s going to happen to the ship?”
“We can’t tow it, that’s certain. It’s a long haul back to Xanthes.”
“You’ll take me straight back to Xanthes?!”
“Where else would we take you?”
“And you’ll just leave the ship here, drifting out in the DEEP?” Rance pictured the Streaker drifting forlornly out in space, abandoned and unprotected. If pirates didn’t get it, some tow would. And it would be sold to the highest bidder at auction.
“We’ll send a salvage crew to pick it up,” he said, confirming Rance’s fear.
“A salvage crew?” Rance groaned. “NO. Turkey, the ship is mine.”
“Sorry, Devri.” He almost looked like he meant it.
Turkey gestured to the hatch and the ladder, indicating that the conversation was over.
Desperate, Rance pulled out her last trick. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and said, “I have a Caducean Drive.”
Turkey pulled up. “What?”
“A Caducean Drive. An imperial AI.”
“I know what it is,” he said sharply. “What are you doing with it?”
“I stumbled across it.”
“Who stumbles across a Caducean Drive?” he asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion and mistrust.
“You’d be surprised,” Rance muttered. Then she added, “You can take it. I’m sure the empire is asking a bigger reward for it than Davos is for me. Take it and forget you saw me.”
“Wh
at’s stopping me from taking both of you?”
“Because you’d never find it.”
“I will if I take the ship apart.”
Rance rolled her eyes. She really needed to stop doing that. “It’s not here. Do you think I’m stupid?”
Turkey looked at her dubiously. He didn’t believe her.
“This is serious, Devri. It’s no longer a charge of running out on a Founders’ marriage. You’d be in possession of stolen imperial goods, not to mention that this a horrendous breach of security.”
Rance blew out a breath of frustration. Apparently, Turkey hadn’t changed much at all. Still the law-abiding, rigid person he’d always been. She wished she hadn’t said anything. Now, she might be in bigger trouble. And what would that mean for her crew?
Turkey pulled out a small device the size of a coin and slapped it on Rance’s right wrist. A silver substance shot out of it, wrapping around her wrist.
“Hold out your other hand,” he commanded.
Rance hesitated. This was not happening. How had she let it get this far? Why hadn’t they fought them off?
Irritated at Rance’s refusal to cooperate, Turkey grabbed her other wrist. She jerked her arm, but his gauntleted hand held her tightly. The silver shot out, wrapping itself around both wrists. Then, it glowed white, sealing to her skin with an uncomfortable, burning cold. An energy cuff.
“How do you expect me to get down the ladder?” she asked snidely, her cordiality slipping in the face of becoming a prisoner. “If I slip and break a leg, you’ll have my father to answer to.”
“I’ll risk it,” he said. Then, he pulled her—not harshly despite his words—toward the hatch. Rance turned and found her footing. Her toe barely ached anymore, and she was grateful she didn’t have to hop down the ladder on one foot, hands cuffed so that she could only hang onto one rung at a time.
Turkey jumped down as soon as she reached the bottom, cutting off any thought she had of running to her cabin and locking the door. It wouldn’t have done any good, anyway. He would have simply burst through.
When they reached the stairway to the hold, the crew was standing at the base, anxiously watching them descend. The other soldier stood off the side, staring toward the airlock.