Raint ran a hand over his short hair then crossed his arms over his chest. His uniform bore testament to his fight for survival. Rips and stains marred the gray fabric. “The guards probably didn’t think properly stocking this thing was necessary. It was meant to blow up with the rest of the vessels on the prison transport after they escaped.”
Zema made her way back to the front and dropped into her seat.
“The oxygen level is now at sixty-eight percent,” the voice from the jumper’s computer said.
The cyborgs wouldn’t feel the decreased oxygen levels until around the twenty percent mark while the civilians would be feeling it now.
Taun glanced at the two in the back. Ised’s and Aesh’s skin already held a waxy sheen, and their chests heaved with each indrawn breath.
“We need to jump again,” Taun decided, facing Zema.
“Somewhere farther away. The farther we get from the Eridani sector, the better,” Raint agreed, crossing over to strap into his harness again.
Zema straightened in her seat, shoulders back as her confidence returned. Her hands flew over the panel once more. “Yes.”
“Agreed,” Taun said.
Zema initiated the jump protocol. “Harnesses on everyone! It’s going to be a bumpy ride. We jump in five. Four. Three. Two. One!”
* * *
Distress. Emergency assistance requested.
“We aren’t really going to ignore the distress call, are we?” As Suni expected, her older sister and Captain, Saphyra, rolled her eyes.
The same message had been on repeat since they had awakened and now continued after their morning meal.
Suni hitched her hip onto the edge of the control panel in the bridge where Saphyra liked to spend most of her time. Saphyra wasn’t the Captain of The Renegade because she was the oldest of the three siblings. She was Captain because she was the most dedicated to the position. Saphyra loved the old space craft their father, Yovit, had purchased when they were younger almost more than life itself.
While Suni had been no older than five cycles when Yovit had brought The Renegade home, Saphyra had been eight and interested in everything their father did. Much to their mother’s dismay, Yovit had begun restoring the secondhand craft to what he hoped was her former glory.
Yovit had purchased the multi-family vessel with the hopes of turning it into a luxury passenger vessel. Now, twenty cycles, a birth, and a death later, they were in major debt, The Renegade still wasn’t fully repaired and something new broke every other day.
When Saphyra didn’t answer her, Suni folded her arms across her chest. Until their A.I., XIR9 or X-9 for short, completed the necessary repairs for a modified hyper-jump, they weren’t going anywhere far any time soon, but they could get to the area where the distress signal originated from easily. Suni thrummed her nails against the skin on her arms to let Saph know that she could wait her out if need be.
“The repairs aren’t finished yet. We can’t risk any other setbacks, or we might miss the next scavenger hunt item,” Saph replied, matter-of-factly.
Suni leveled her gaze on Saph. Besides their clothing—Saph in a cropped shirt and form-fitting shorts and Suni in a one-piece jumpsuit—they were the spitting image of each other. They both had dark brown hair with hints of red and gold. Saph preferred hers cut short and easily manageable while Suni preferred hers longer.
Their eyes were light brown with gold ringed irises, and they had narrow noses with an upturned bump on the end that they had inherited from their mother. The full face and plump lips, as well as their small statures, were a gift from Yovit. The curves and skin coloring came from their mom.
Their mother and Yovit had decided their physical traits when they had put the payment down on the fertilization program to have Saph and Suni using the credits Yovit had received from a profitable job. They had originally been one embryo that their parents had split into two, thinking it would be nice to have the children at the same time, to get it out of the way.
When Yovit lost yet another job, forcing them to go on government assistance, the couple opted to only have one child fertilized and save the other embryo, Suni, until after they were more financially secure. The day of becoming financially secure never came.
Suni was only born because their father had stopped paying the fee to cryo-freeze her as an embryo and they’d been forced to fertilize or destroy her. Something their mother couldn’t conceive of allowing.
“X-9,” Suni said, while glaring at her sister. “How are the repairs coming along?”
“The necessary repairs to facilitate hyper-drive will be completed by 2900 standard Quitex time,” came the robotic, yet masculine voice over the intercom.
Saph opened her mouth to undoubtedly raise another argument, but Suni silenced her with a finger. “X-9, will answering the distress signal delay us from completing the repairs?”
“No, it will not.”
The distress signal came from the M-49 quadrant. Suni also knew how long it would take to get there. Just like she had known she would need to have all this information up-front so Saph wouldn’t have a reason not to answer the call.
“Say we go out of our way to answer the signal, then what?” Saph leaned back in the captain’s chair and stretched her curvy legs in front of her, crossing her booted feet at the ankles. “The nearest habitable planet is a lightyear away. So, taking whoever it is there, is out of the question.”
“We take them with us to Stindrol.”
Saph’s eyes narrowed in question. “Why Stindrol? There’s about ten habitable planets between here and there.”
“Tayan cracked the latest clue. Our next scavenger hunt item is on Stindrol.”
Suni was proud of her younger sister. Tayan was the smartest person she knew and cracked every code with ease.
Losing her disgruntled expression, Saph straightened upright in her seat. Excitement glimmered in her eyes just as Suni knew it would. “Are you sure?”
Suni nodded. “It only took Tayan the length of time to finish her fruit sandwich to crack it.” Without Tayan’s help, Suni was sure they would’ve still been hunting the first item.
When they’d left their homeworld, Quitex, it had been because the creditors had taken almost everything they had.
Tayan had been a baby, but both Suni and Saph had taken Tayan’s lessons seriously. They hadn’t wanted Tayan to be delayed in her learning. The goal was to eventually return home and, when they did, they wanted her to be able to slide seamlessly into a school with classmates her age without disruption. Now Suni believed Tayan was well ahead of any child on Quitex her age or beyond, and it made her proud.
Saph swiveled her chair to the console and began inputting the name of the planet to plot a course. “By the Ancients, Suni. Why didn’t you tell me as soon as she cracked the clue? Every minute counts. We can’t afford to miss any more scavenger hunt items.”
“We’ll be cutting it close, but we can make it to the M-49 quadrant to answer the signal by the evening and be ready for a modified hyper-jump after the repairs are made,” came the high-pitched voice from behind them.
Tayan was a child that shouldn’t have been. Unbeknownst to their mother, when the bills began piling up, Yovit started securing their food from a discount vendor. The food had been discounted because the vendor hadn’t disclosed that it didn’t contain the proper daily nutrient requirements, radiation prevention or birth control as required by law.
Their mother had gotten pregnant and, without the right nutrients her body needed to birth a child, she had died in childbirth. It was the reason that Saph and Suni’s relationship with Yovit was strained to this day. If Yovit had been more conscious with his credits and didn’t chase every scheme that came his way, their mother would still be alive.
“Don’t tell me Suni has you convinced that we’re a rescue party, Tay,” Saph grumbled absently as she continued to program the navigation system with their new coordinates. “We don’t have time for any of this.”r />
“But we do,” Tay said, crossing the bridge and dropping into one of the empty seats. Without Yovit and their mother picking and choosing Tayan’s physical attributes, Tay’s appearance had been left up to fate. She resembled their mother, but she was clearly Yovit’s child. It was almost like looking at a younger, gentler version of him.
She spun the chair around, seemingly not able to help herself. Neither Saph nor Suni said anything about her putting unnecessary wear on an already fragile chair. There wasn’t a lot for a nine-year old to do on a space craft. Besides, if Tay broke the chair, she would be the one to fix it. She liked to tinker around, taking things apart and putting them back together.
Saph tapped the fuel meter with a slender finger. “We’ll barely have enough fuel to make it to Stindrol. We can’t afford to waste any of it on a rescue mission.” She flicked her hand as if she had already made up her mind. “They’ll be fine. Someone else will eventually come along and help them out.”
Tay stopped spinning. “But…what if they have enough money to pay for our fuel to get to Stindrol?”
“We let them know where we’re going and offer them a lift,” Suni said.
“For a price,” Yovit grumbled over the intercom. “You all really should stop discussing ship business without me.”
Suni rolled her eyes even though her father couldn’t see her. “If you attended the morning briefings in person you would know what we talk about after you disconnected the calls.”
Saph scrubbed a hand down her face and closed her eyes briefly, knowing she wouldn’t win a fight against both of her sisters. “When do we leave?”
Tay turned toward the co-pilot’s console and tapped a button. “Now.”
Chapter Three
Making a distress call was the last thing Taun wanted to do but in the end agreed with Zema. It was their only chance at survival. They were now down to thirty-one percent oxygen. He, Raint and Zema slowed their breathing rate to conserve as much oxygen as they could for the two Kirisians civilians on board. Vril, who he learned held the rank of Commander, remained in stasis for deep repair.
Ised and Aesh tried to regulate their breathing, but panic made inhalation short and fast. They would be the first to die. Then Zema, Raint and Taun. Granted, it would take some time as their body tried to heal the damage done from lack of oxygen. The nanobots would work to fix the organ and brain damage, but in the end, it would be pointless. They’d suffocate, lose consciousness, be revitalized then repeat the process until they went into full system failure. Their deaths would be agonizing and painful.
“Helloooo, help,” Zema sang at the craft that had suddenly appeared in front of their view window.
Taun didn’t immediately recognize the style. Dents in the outer structure and patchworked alloys had been used to construct it. The outdated material and poor appearance signified that it was an old vessel.
Raint got up from his seat and stood between the pilot and co-pilot’s chair, a hand braced on the back of each as he studied the craft as well. “That’s an obsolete design. If we could access the mainframe, we could get the signature and specs.”
“No,” Taun and Zema said in unison.
Accessing the mainframe was a no go. That was a sure way for Emperor Shui or whoever worked for him to get a location and track them.
“I know. I’m not stupid.” Raint leaned over to peer out the window. “I just don’t like this. How do we know if they’re friendlies or not?”
“We d-don’t,” Ised wheezed between panting breaths. “But we have to trust them. We sent out a distress signal and they showed up.”
“Trust?” Raint straightened and laughed. “Trust is earned, and I don’t know who’s in that ship or what their intentions are.”
“The alternative?” Aesh said through pained wheezes. “My lungs are burning, and my insides are on fire.”
Taun glanced at Zema. “We’ll see if they have the necessary supplies to fix the jumper and be on our way.”
They had dropped out of hyperdrive early when it became apparent it was causing the oxygen to deplete faster. It wasn’t like they were going to make it to their set destination anyway. Their only hope had been sending the distress signal to see if anyone could help them fix the jumper.
Zema gave him a short nod.
“You have a hull breech,” a feminine voice over the communications system stated abruptly.
The jumper jolted forward as the tracking sensors on the ship looming in front of them locked onto their vessel.
“Whoa.” Raint grabbed the head rests of both seats as the jumper began slowly moving towards the larger ship.
Nervous energy crackled around them. Taun pressed the communication button. “We didn’t authorize a lock. Release us immediately.”
The jumper stilled. “That’s fine by me.”
Taun’s muscles remained coiled and ready for a fight. Space pirates weren’t unheard of. In fact, they were more common than people thought, and most sectors had their own pirates to deal with. Even though they weren’t near any habitable planets it would be far-fetched to think none were out here.
“Your hull is severely compromised,” this came from another feminine voice. “Without repairs you’ll die. Our sensors indicate your current oxygen levels are at twenty-eight percent. That’s not enough to get you to the next habitable planet.”
She was right. “We are requesting supplies to make the repairs,” Taun replied.
There was a short silence.
“We have supplies and we can offer you the use of one of our bays if you wish to make the repairs on your own.”
Taun disconnected the communications and glanced at the others. “Thoughts?”
Zema was the first to speak, “We need the supplies.”
“I don’t trust it.” Raint’s fingers dug into the headrests, making dents in the hard material.
“Ease up on the furniture.” Zema slapped at Raint’s hand nearest her. “I don’t want my jumper damaged more than she already is.”
“Yours?” Raint asked with a raised eyebrow.
Zema made a show of getting comfortable in her chair. “I was the one to procure her.”
“Let’s refocus,” Taun said, breaking up a fight that could be saved for later…if they lived.
“You are cyborgs,” Ised said. “You’ll outlast Aesh and myself. We’re already struggling.”
“I’m sssooo lightheaded,” Aesh said, her words slurring.
Ised leaned over to check Aesh. She was slow to move and lethargic. Even with him helping her, she couldn’t stay upright. He gave a quick look at Taun. “If they try anything, won’t you be able to take them?”
Taun sneered at the Prime Minister. He was so quick to offer up their abilities as Cyborgs. “If we knew how many were onboard their ship, that question would be easier.”
Zema’s hands ran over the console. “The jumper isn’t equipped with any sensors capable of finding that out.”
They were left in a precarious situation. They needed help and without it they would die.
“What are the odds of them knowing who or what we are?” Taun asked.
“This far from Kirs? Seven percent,” Zema said without delay.
Taun gave a short nod because that’s what he had determined. Raint had probably came up with the same number as well. Having Taun and Zema confirm, Taun hoped it would help to calm Raint’s growing agitation.
“We don’t have a choice.” Raint’s hands tightened on the seat once again. “The risk is high, but we did send the distress signal.”
“We’re definitely out of options,” Taun agreed, ignoring the creak of the seat cracking under Raint’s grip. “We stay as we are—we’re good as dead. We take them up on their offer to board and fix the jumper—we might have a chance to live.”
“One false move and I’m killing as many of them as I can,” Raint growled.
“No killing,” Ised said with a struggling breath.
“You have no
say,” Taun snapped
“Oxygen levels now at critical levels for survival of lifeforms on board,” the jumper’s system said on the intercom.
Taun couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t kill anyone either. They’d come too far to escape the emperor’s reach to succumb to death by trusting the wrong people. Ised and Aesh depended on them as well. Though he didn’t care what happened to Ised. “We go in alert and ready.” He didn’t need Zema or Raint to confirm, they were elite soldiers. They were always ready for battle.
Taun initiated communication. “We are agreeable to your proposal.”
Their response was non-verbal. The jumper lurched slightly as the other craft’s tracking system locked on to them again.
“Harness’s on!” Zema said as the jumper made its way slowly toward a bay door opening on the craft.
* * *
Suni, Saph and Tayan stood in the corridor outside of the transporter bay and watched through the internal door window as the smaller vessel maneuvered through the oversized external door and settled in the empty area that Suni had cleared for them. Yovit was undoubtedly watching from the monitors, not needing to see the goings-on in person.
The transporter bay held a small shuttle that Suni had bought for travel back and forth to a planet’s surface from the ship, along with a storage container the family had brought with them when they had moved from their house. There was also a ton of junk off to the side that they had accumulated over the years.
“Lock it down.” At Saph’s command, the ship’s control system locked the internal and external transporter bay doors. The red blinking lights over the external door turned green, indicating the bay was now safe from the dangerous outside elements.
A ramp lowered from the smaller craft and the hatch opened. A man and woman dressed in torn gray uniforms with black trim looked out, then, confirming they were alone, descended. They headed directly toward the cart of tools and supplies Suni had left for them. Everything about their pace was hectic and hurried as if they didn’t want to stay longer than needed.
“Can we meet the new people?” Tayan angled her head up to glance at Saph.
Saving The Cyborg (Cyborg Redemption) Page 3