Chapter
4
Mikka
Jenax
The
Redemption
“This
is taking too long. Why
is this waystation so backed up?”
Mikka
Jenax paced the bridge of the
Redemption,
hands behind her back. She was brooding, but she didn’t care. They
had been waiting for over an hour, stuck in the queue.
The
waystation wasn’t typically a stopping point for regular traffic,
which was what irked Mikka the most. If this was the way orbital
traffic was going, rum-running through the sector was going to be a
nightmare, but it wasn’t as though she had any other career paths
laid out for her.
“A
wave of leftover debris from the Infinity.”
Kiara Ryson strode across the shuttle, assuming her seat in the
cockpit. Mikka shook her head as the woman straightened her faux
leather jacket and pulled her sunglasses down over her face.
“I
know that, genius, but the Syndicate’s had seven years to clean
this mess. I’m tired of it backing up the transport corridors.”
“Just
sit back and wait it out. We get paid either way.” Kiara’s
matching brown boots found their way onto the edge of the console,
and she crossed her legs at the ankles and leaned back. With the
woman’s short frame, her feet barely reached the panel from the
navigation console’s seat.
Agitation
coursed through Mikka’s veins, and she couldn’t calm herself
enough to sit. Kiara’s laid-back attitude was usually a godsend, an
anchor in her spaceport, but right now, with their next round of
credits on the line, it was infuriating. Mikka adjusted her own gray
jacket and ran a hand through her coarse black hair before reaching
under the counter of the navigational console and pulling out a
bottle of whiskey.
Might
as well enjoy some decent alcohol while we’re waiting. Stars know,
there won’t be any once we get to Lunar.
“We’ll
get paid for this load,” she said as she poured, “but we’ll be
late for the next one. Every hour of delay means credits off our
paycheck.”
“And
what do you propose we do? There’s a river of debris between the
stations we have to navigate around. I’m not about to blow a hole
through our engines for a couple chips.”
“I’m
not proposing we do
anything.” Mikka swilled the drink in her glass, watching as the
artificial gravity pulled the droplets against its side, before
draining its contents in a single shot. “I just hate sitting
around. I’ve got bills to pay.”
“I
do too, but you don’t hear me whining.”
“Times
are tight. My mother’s not getting any better.”
“Pfft.”
Kiara waved a hand dismissively. “Times are always tight. You worry
too much.”
Mikka
bit her tongue as she poured another drink. She sipped this one
slowly, allowing the woody taste of the alcohol to coat her tongue
and throat as it slipped down. The amber liquid still bore the grit
and metallic tint that Lunar whiskey always held, but it was a hell
of a lot better than anything she’d find on the moon’s surface.
The whiskey’s sharp fire was enough to distract her for a moment,
but only barely. They had just picked up a shipment of computer parts
and cabbage from Space Dock Eleven—one of their better-paying
hauls. But their delivery window was narrow, and the clock was
ticking.
If
only we could get through this damn debris field.
The
space station Infinity
had been decommissioned seven years ago. A year later, some Syndicate
fat cat decided it was time to put an end to the ghost station’s
misery and pushed it into the Earth’s atmosphere, resulting in a
series of explosions. Whoever that genius was, they hadn’t
accounted for the chunks of metal, plastic, and the stars knew what
else had been left behind from the explosion that ripped it apart.
Instead of spreading, the fragments that were not drawn into the
atmosphere clumped together in a hazardous blob. It usually occupied
less frequently traveled paths, but over the past month, it had
become lodged in the main transport corridor.
“It’s
crazy we still can’t go around. These new space routes are getting
on my nerves.”
“Easy,
Mikka.” Kiara lifted both hands in a conciliatory motion. “We’ll
deliver this shipment, pick up a round of Helium or whatever our next
load is, and be on our way again before you know it. You might lose
an hour or so of sleep, but no harm done. Chill out now and it won’t
matter.”
“Looks
like I don’t have a choice, do I?” Mikka slammed her glass down
harder than she intended, sending a crack through its side. She
grasped her temple between her thumb and forefinger, willing the
knots above her brow to melt away. She didn’t have time for
setbacks, and she was running out of patience. At some point, life
had to throw her a bone.
“Is
there any chance we can make up for it by taking a double load back?”
she asked, hoping the suggestion didn’t come across as desperate.
“You’re
really getting worked up, aren’t you?” Kiara commenced picking at
the gunk beneath her fingernails with a nail file. “You know the
drill—we can only take back what they’ve loaded up for us.”
The
Redemption’s
systems beeped and hummed around them, almost as if the ship was
eagerly anticipating being allowed to continue on its way.
From
where she was standing, Mikka could see a panel light blinking on the
communications terminal, beeping in an irregular pattern.
“You
expecting a call?” Kiara asked.
“Are
you kidding? Who do I know? It’s probably just a patrol
announcement.”
Kiara
grunted, pulling up the details on her own console. “It’s no
patrol. I don’t recognize this frequency.”
“Let’s
see.” Mikka pulled up the holo-screen on her own console. The
semiopaque projection came to life, hovering above her control pad.
A
blinking bar of red lit up, displaying an incoming transmission on a
frequency Mikka hadn’t seen used in a long time.
“Whoever
it is, they’re using an old pirate channel,” she said. “But
it’s one that’s been abandoned for years. The Orbital Guard
cracked its encryption, and it’s been useless ever since.”
“Pirates?”
Kiara’s tone grew serious for the first time all morning. “One of
your old friends?” She stared at the panel, her eyes furiously
darting between the readings as if considering whether there was
danger in merely answering the hail. She ran her palms through her
cropped purple hair. “What are we going to do?”
“Hang
on!” Mikka lifted a hand toward her. “It could just be someone
else found the frequency. Maybe it’s a wrong number.”
“Hilarious,”
Kiara said, her arms crossed.
“A
pirate wouldn’t use this channel; the encryption has been
compromised. If they were after our ship, they’d use a different
means of communication.” Just the same, only a pirate or the
Orbital Guard would have access to the encryption.
The
console continued to chirp.
Mikka
sighed and leaned over the nearest terminal, tapping the screen. The
face of a young woman was projected above her datapad. Her hair was
white and cut short, except for a single silver braid that hung down
the side of her face. Blue and green beads were tied within it, along
with a smaller pull decorated with a few grubby ship parts, metallic
shards, and white stones.
Not
stones. Bones.
Through
the static-filled feed, it was impossible to tell if the bones were
human or animal, though Mikka had a pretty good idea.
The
woman’s eyes— a smoky gray—were as mysterious as the rest of
her, as was the scar that curved down through the top and bottom of
her left eye socket, as though someone had tried to blind her.
The
woman stood, strapped in to hold her from floating around a craft
with no gravity. It was hard to tell through the haze of smoke that
filled the cabin, but Mikka recognized the markings of the woman’s
vessel.
An
escape pod.
The
woman didn’t even flinch as sparks and bursts of flame surrounded
her. The image flashed in and out, and it was obvious the feed might
not last long.
“Thanks
for picking up, love. I presume you’re Jax Luana?”
Mikka
caught her breath.
She
scanned the woman’s features for a hint of recognition, something
that would tie this woman to her old life. Even if the woman’s hair
or eyes were another color, even if her scar was gone, there wasn’t
anything about her that struck Mikka as being familiar.
Besides,
she was too young to be someone from Mikka’s past. She was twenty
at most, and no one had dared to call Mikka by the name of Jax Luana
in seven years. That would have made the person projected before her
thirteen when Mikka had left her old life behind. Even aboard a
pirate vessel, thirteen would have been far too young. It was
possible she could have come across a youth at a bar or port city,
but if that were the case, clearly the encounter wasn’t memorable.
Yet
somehow this woman recognized her.
“I
haven’t used that name in a long time.” Mikka gritted her teeth,
attempting to hide her disdain. She absently pulled a knife from her
belt, fidgeting with it to both calm her mind and send a message that
she was still someone who wasn’t to be messed with. “My name is
Mikka Jenax. Who are you? How did you gain access to this channel,
and why are you calling me?”
The
woman glanced over her shoulder as a sharp pop
sounded from somewhere behind her. Her eyes bulged as, presumably,
she located whatever the source of the noise had been. She raised a
finger, unclipped her safety restraints, and floated off-camera
momentarily.
No
gravity plating in those old escape pods. Her ship must have been a
relic.
Mikka
rolled her eyes at Kiara, but her co-navigator didn’t meet her
gaze.
“Ah,
yes.”
The woman reappeared, the cape she had been wearing now gone,
revealing sweaty but well-toned shoulders. “The name’s Abigail.
And, well, as much as I’d love to get into specifics—this
deathtrap is about to break apart. I’d love it if you could give me
a lift.”
Mikka
groaned. Bringing an unknown woman aboard would be a risk. The woman
clearly had a connection to Mikka’s past—a past she wanted to
avoid. And something didn’t smell quite right.
“Not
without knowing anything about you. You’re calling me on an old,
encrypted frequency, referring to me by a name that has been dead for
seven years. Can’t blame me for being skeptical.”
“Let’s
just say, I’m both a ghost from your past and a damsel in distress.
I didn’t come looking for you, love, but my circumstances have
become quite . . . dire.”
Another burst of flame erupted behind Abigail’s head. “I think we
could come to a mutual understanding.”
Great.
This is just what I need.
“I
gave that life up a long time ago,” Mikka insisted.
“Well,
even if that is the case . . . could you at least
save mine? I’m quite happy with the one I’ve got.”
Mikka
cursed. “How much time do you have?”
She
knew this was a bad idea, but there’d be no more lives lost because
of her. Not if she could help it.
“Um . . .”
Abigail’s eyes darted wildly to the surrounding capsule as she
punched a few keystrokes on the pod’s display screens. “I’m
actually kinda surprised I’m still here. I’m sending you my
coordinates. You’re not far.”
Mikka
nodded. “We’re on our way. Ping us again if the situation gets
worse—but I can’t promise there’ll be anything we’ll be able
to do if it does.”
“Aye,
aye, captain.” Abigail gave a two-fingered salute accompanied by an
impish grin as the screen faded to black.
Chapter 5
Mikka
The
Redemption
“Are
you insane?”
Kiara
was on her feet, hands on her hips, marching toward Mikka.
Mikka
raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Look who’s suddenly interested. You could
have spoken up before. You kind of left me hanging there.”
“I
didn’t expect you to be such an idiot! You can’t bring a pirate
on board! We know nothing about her!”
Kiara
turned to the console beside her and pulled up a holographic display.
Kiara was a master at navigating the Syndicate network, but she still
impressed Mikka with how quickly she had pulled up the profile of the
woman on the escape pod.
Mikka’s
eyes flashed. “Remember whose ship this is. I
make
the calls here.”
Kiara
ignored her as she scrolled through the entry. “Smuggling. Theft.
Conspiracy. Murder! Shit, I’m not ready to die today.”
Whatever
sense of indifference Kiara had presented a few minutes ago had now
disappeared. Being delayed on a job wasn’t something to get worked
up about but letting a fugitive on board was another matter.
Understandably
so, maybe, but . . .
“I
don’t care who she is,” Mikka said. “I’m not leaving her out
there to die. Not when she’s asked for our help.”
Kiara
wasn’t ready to back down. “How do you know this isn’t a setup
to lure us in? A trap to commandeer our ship?”
“She
launched herself into a failing escape pod with the sole intent of
hijacking a decades-old refurbished orbital trader? Is that what you
think? There are easier, more lucrative targets out there.”
“Stranger
things have happened.”
A
fair point, but . . . No,
Mikka couldn’t think of any legitimate reason why anyone would want
the Redemption.
“I
know how her type operate,” Mikka continued. “Our current payload
isn’t worth the effort or the risk.”
“She
knew you were here,” Kiara persisted. “That doesn’t raise red
flags for you? She’s obviously learned enough to make you a
target.”
And
there it was. Kiara wasn’t implying the ship was the target.
I
am.
The
woman’s words hung over Mikka like a solar storm. “I
presume you’re Jax Luana?”
Kiara
was right: it did raise red flags. Huge, monumental
red flags.
The
only two people in the entire system who knew Mikka used to go by
that name were her own mother and Kiara. Not only that, but Mikka had
also undergone dozens of surgical procedures to alter her appearance,
until she no longer resembled the woman Abigail had named.
Be
that as it may, though, her mind was made up.
“I’m
not leaving her out there to die,” Mikka reaffirmed, punching in
the coordinates into the ship’s navigation system. “You can cuff
her in the cargo hold until we get to Shackleton City if it makes you
feel better, but let’s get her ass out of that pod before we decide
what to do with her.”
“Toss
her out the airlock—that’s
what we should do with her,” Kiara muttered under her breath.
“We’re
about ten minutes out,” Mikka said, ignoring the remark.
“Hopefully, her pod can hold together until then.”
“It
wouldn’t be the worst thing if we didn’t make it.”
Mikka
grabbed the cracked whiskey glass beside her and hurled it across the
shuttle. It landed squarely against an empty wall panel, shattering
under the force of the impact. A million pieces of broken glass
spread out along the hard paneled floor.
Kiara’s
eyes grew wide with horror.
“What
the hell is your problem?” Mikka shouted. “That could have been
me
in that pod! Do you think I
didn’t deserve a second chance? Do you think I
should have died with my companions? With my friends? Because if you
do, you can find another ship.”
Kiara
didn’t respond, instead looking bashfully toward her own console.
“Damn
it, Kiara! A life’s a life,” Mikka said, composing herself.
“Everyone
deserves a shot. If someone hadn’t taken a chance on me, I wouldn’t
be here now. Enough of the bullshit.”
“Fine.”
Kiara held her hands up in mock surrender. “But don’t say I
didn’t warn you.”
She
picked up an energy weapon—her trusty SC11 pistol—from beside her
station and attached it to her belt. “And don’t think I’m
letting her out of my sight. I might help save her life, but I’m
not above locking her in the holding cell or calling in a patrol.”
“You
call in a patrol and you risk exposing me as well,” Mikka reminded
her. “I’m taking a monumental risk here. Don’t forget I have
sins I need to atone for, and that pirate’s just admitted she knows
more than she should. This is still my
ship, Kiara; I may have agreed to split our
profit for your expertise,
but I’m still the one who calls the shots.”
Mikka
tapped the projection before her with a few keystrokes. “I’m
sending you the coordinates of the pod. The only thing I’m
concerned about is making it back in time to hit our window through
the debris field. We’ve got thirty minutes.”
“As
long as I’m
not the one who ends up out the airlock,” Kiara groused, pulling up
her own holographic display. “Just promise me you won’t let her
talk you into anything stupid.”
“I’ve
got a sick mother to worry about. That’s enough excitement for me.”
The
Redemption
groaned as it propelled into a lower orbit. The crest of the Earth
filled the viewport as the ship flew toward Abigail’s position.
Abigail
wouldn’t have to worry about the void of space for long: she would
soon enter the Earth’s atmosphere, and those pods weren’t made to
withstand entry. She’d burn up long before she ran out of air.
“We’ve
got to get off the main route,” Mikka said. “We’re not going to
make it in time otherwise.”
“Might
catch the attention of the OG if we do that,” Kiara warned. “If
we get pulled over by a patrol, we won’t make it, either.”
Mikka
cursed under her breath. Kiara was right, but she didn’t see they
had any other choice. Plus, the woman was slowly becoming a thorn in
her side, so she didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of being
right.
“We’ll
deal with that if it happens.”
Kiara
shook her head but didn’t argue.
It
didn’t take long before the Redemption’s
scanners picked up the solitary pod adrift in the lower orbit, just
off the main transport corridor. The gray escape vessel floated among
a sea of debris, much of it several times larger than the pod itself.
If it hadn’t been for Abigail’s distress call, Mikka would likely
have never seen it among the rest of the floating remains, never mind
known that there was a person inside.
Her
ship didn’t just run into trouble,
Mikka realized. It
bloody exploded!
Whatever
trouble this pirate had gotten herself into was possibly a bigger
deal than Mikka had first realized. Orbital attacks weren’t common,
especially this close to the planet. If her ship’s destruction was
simply a matter of Abigail’s criminal record, there would have been
other ways to handle things.
Mikka
tapped her communications terminal. “Abigail, we’re descending to
your position. Are you still there?”
“I’m
here,” the pirate’s voice chirped. “But I’ve lost my video
feed.”
“Is
your docking equipment functional?” Mikka asked. “Are you able to
connect to our clamps?”
“I
don’t have any fuel, love. I’m dead in the water. All I’ve got
is enough air to see the end of my days as I incinerate in orbit, and
enough power to keep this channel open for a few more minutes.”
“All
right.” Mikka nodded to herself. “Kiara, how close can you get us
to the pod without being ripped apart by the surrounding debris?”
Kiara
met her gaze. “Are you doubting
me?”
“I’m
just asking!” Mikka shot back.
“We
can kiss her on the nose if you want.”
“Perfect,
but she’ll be coming in the other end. Back her up so we can pull
that pod into the cargo bay. I’ll seal it off manually.”
“It’s
a good thing we loaded our shipment below deck this round.”
Mikka
hit another few commands on her console. “Abigail, we’re going to
pull you into our cargo hold. You shouldn’t get banged around too
much, but you should probably strap yourself in.”
“Already
buckled—and I’ve got nowhere else to go, love. Do what you need
to do.”
The
Redemption
shook again as Kiara decelerated, weaving around some of the larger
pieces of debris.
“Hang
on,” Kiara said. “I’ll get us in, but there’s a lot of
garbage here. It could get bumpy.”
As
promised, the shuttle rattled and bounced as it slowed. Mikka did her
best to hang on as she pulled each of the four toggles that would
seal off the ship’s bridge from the cargo bay and braced herself
for the inevitable turbulence. The pressurized seal allowed them to
release objects into the void of space, but they didn’t typically
try to bring objects in. It was an unusual maneuver, but if anyone
could pull it off, it was Kiara.
“I’m
opening the cargo door now,” Mikka said.
“Reversing
engines to overtake the pod,” Kiara replied.
There
was a faint whoosh
and a crack formed in the wall behind them. The Redemption
groaned
as she strained beneath the atmospheric pressure. A thud
and a couple of shudders told Mikka their task had been successful,
even before Kiara reported the outcome.
“And
she’s in. Re-pressurizing the cargo bay.”
Mikka
let out a sigh of relief. “All right. We’ve got twelve minutes
until the waypoint sends us to the back of the line. I'd rather not
miss our window through the debris field. Let’s get back and take
this shipment home.”
“And
hope the Guard doesn’t want to inspect our ship on the way
through.”
“They
won’t. The gates are backed up enough already.”
As
if in response to her promise, the holo-screens and monitors in the
shuttlecraft all shifted. Big, bold text in orange and red lit their
screens, and a rendering of Abigail’s bust hovered above the
panels.
Emergency
Bulletin.
Fugitive
Wanted. Charges: Theft. Conspiracy. Piracy. Murder.
Abigail
Monroe. 10,000 Credit reward.
Mikka
caught her breath.
“Spoke
too soon. Looks like we won’t need to kill her,” Kiara remarked.
“We can just turn her in.”
Herman
Steuernagel is a science fiction and fantasy author. His
internationally best-selling debut Lies the Guardians Tell reached
the top of the science fiction charts on multiple retailers in the
U.K., Canada, Australia and New Zealand.
His currently
published works are dystopian science fiction that highlight the
struggle between humanity and the technology we keep, as well as the
motivations that keep us fighting with each other.
Herman currently
lives in British Columbia, Canada, While he’s not working on his
next book he can be found cycling, running and dreaming up new
worlds.
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