Death & Exile
12 Mar 2022Sally Forth
Even when you’re flying an Anaconda, you can get cabin fever. Feel the walls of the bridge slowly closing in on you. And you know it’s time to go out, stretch your legs, see a little life. This is Austen Town Station, Arque. I’ve just sold a load of marine equipment for a decent chunk of cash, so maybe a little R&R is in order. I’ve been avoiding Federation space, after the little incident at Archambault Terminal.
Oh, Angelo. I really hope he’s all right. I shut the ship down and head for the boarding ramp, the cats scampering along beside me, keen to see what’s out there.
I don’t feel like going to the pilot’s bar today. I wander around until I find a small, cosy place with subdued lighting and muted abstract patterns on the walls. I’m still in my flight suit, but starport inhabitants tend to be a bit more tolerant towards spacers, so I don’t feel out of place. I order a beer and take a seat about in the middle of the bar. Rather than piped music, this one has an actual person playing – some guy at a keyboard, putting out brisk, syncopated piano pieces. Whoever he is, he’s really good. The whole place has a happy buzz to it.
I’m nearly through my second drink when some guy starts hitting on me. Younger than me, white, kinda good-looking, I suppose, hair swept up into a fashionable short mohican. He’s not really my type, but the banter is pleasant enough and passes the time. Eventually, I finish my beer, and bid him farewell. It’s only as I rise that I see Annie, who was curled up next to me, is on all fours, tail erect, back arched...
“Oh, you mustn’t leave, Commander,” says the guy brightly. At the same time, the touch of cold metal on my wrist and a click. He’s just put a cuff on me. My eyes meet his.
“Take that off. Now.” I hiss. He has the grace to look slightly embarrassed.
“Sorry, Commander. But someone has put quite a price on your head, and I’m going to be the one who collects it.”
I sense all three cats are ready to pounce. I really hope they don’t. Whilst it would be very nice to watch this deceiving bastard get his face cut into thin strips, it would be really inconvenient, right here in public. He stands up and starts to move, yanking at the cuff. “Come on, Commander. Let’s go.”
“Screw you!” I say, raising my voice. People look round. His expression is pained.
“Oh, please don’t make this any harder than it has to be, Commander. Just chill out and come along quietly.”
“I am not coming along quietly. You are going to take this cuff off me right now!” My shout makes the bar go quiet; the music stops suddenly. The man rolls his eyes.
“I’m quite sure everyone in here has seen this all before. No-one is going to help you....” and he draws a heavy sidearm from his waist, “...are they?”
My peripheral vision senses movement. The bounty hunter narrows his eyes, and brings up the pistol towards the unseen person, glaring. “Like I said, no-one is going to help you -”
K-chak.
The momentary distraction gives me time to dip a hand inside my jacket and come out with a compact semi-auto pistol, which is now pressed to his forehead. His expression is a joy to behold.
“You aren’t very good at this, are you? Didn’t it occur to you I might be armed too?”
He regains his composure. “Now let’s just be cool, okay. You put that peashooter down and let’s get going.”
I’m actually smiling at his sheer arrogance. “You first, asshole. If I see that gun in your hand move anywhere but towards the seat, I fire.” He swallows, and half-crouches, carefully putting the gun down on the chair. “Now, take the cuff off.”
“I don’t think so. Your turn to lose the gun, sweetheart. After all,” he says with a smug smile, “you aren’t going to shoot me in the face in front of all these people, are you? Besides, I’ve got a team of mercs waiting outside.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” I say, and slowly begin to lower the gun. I see him tense; he’s going to try and grab it from me -
Bang.
The bar erupts into pandemonium and the guy collapses to the floor, because I’ve just put a bullet through his left knee.
“Okay, so now you’re limping to the infirmary,” I snarl, “you don’t want to be crawling there, now, do you?”
His hand moves, not towards the gun, but to his ear. Too late, I realise he's wearing a transceiver.
“Ahhh...get in here, guys, bitch has shot me, get in -”
And those are his last words. My gun moves again and I shoot him in the throat. “Fucking idiot,” I say bitterly, “why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut?”
I stow my pistol and frantically tug at the cuff, trying to figure out how to get it off. Amid the panic, there’s someone next to me. It’s the musician. He’s maybe twenty years younger than me, skin as dark as mine, one eye has a curious amber iris. Wearing a caramel-brown leather greatcoat with muted diamond patterns stitched into the body. He wordlessly peers at the cuff, then seizes the dying bounty hunter’s other hand, pressing a thumb against a panel. The cuff snaps open. He picks up the man’s gun, and jerks his head towards the door.
Just as we get there, an amplified voice booms from outside.
“OKAY, OKAY, THIS IS THE DEAL. WOMAN WITH DREADS COMES OUT, HANDS IN THE AIR, OR WE COME IN AND START SHOOTING! TWENTY SECONDS!”
Cold fear grips me. How the hell are we going to get out of here? A movement at my feet, and I watch as Mack bounds out into the corridor. Oh no...what if they -
And I remember. They can’t see him. And my vision suddenly flickers, with a view of three men with guns outside. But he can see them.
“Give me the gun,” I whisper urgently. My new companion blinks, but immediately hands it over. I’m liking him more already. I stick the pistol cautiously around the door frame. My viewpoint shifts again, Mack looking back and forth between me and the mercs. Then he lets out a miaow.
I pull the trigger, and one of the men is down, shot through the shoulder. As his companions dive for cover, I grab the musician's hand. “Let’s go!” We’re out of the door and running like hell. A few corridors away, we slow to a walk. My companion grins at me.
“Now that,” he says, “was seriously cool. How the hell did you manage it?” His voice is a mellow Federation drawl, what might once have been called ‘Southern’. I let out a nervous laugh.
“You wouldn’t believe it,” I say, trying to get my breath back. “I’m Sally. And I think this traditionally the point where I ask, ‘why are you helping me?’”
“Eddie,” he says, “and because I got my own sense of what’s right and what ‘ain’t. And what that guy was doing wasn’t right. Especially not to a sister.” We continue at a fast walk, “You got a ship? What with the flight suit and all...”
“Yes, and I think getting to it sharpish would be a good idea.”
“Right. I suspect the lifts will be being watched. So we walk there, yeah?”
We make it to the docking ring, and cautiously head for the hanger where Felicette is berthed. My heart sinks as we espy another four mercs guarding the hanger entrance. Two men, two women, all with big guns. We duck back behind a support pillar.
“Oh shit,” I mutter, slumping against the wall, despair creeping in. Eddie peers at the group, then grips my shoulder.
“My turn,” he murmurs, “I got this.” He steps out of cover, and nonchalantly strides along, hands in coat pockets, not quite heading for the hanger door. My heart is in my mouth as I watch. The mercs look up, but relax when they see it’s not who they’re looking for. Eddie carries on. As he draws level with the mercenaries, he suddenly turns, hands leaping from his pockets. The air sizzles with the sound of plasma as he calmly and swiftly shoots each merc in the face. They clatter to the ground and the smell of burnt flesh drifts across.
“Eh, coast is clear,” he calls. I hurry over, gaping at him.
“That was pretty cool too,” I manage to say, pawing at the door controls. I glance at his guns. Manticore Aggressors. A smaller, handier version of the Tormentor battlefield pistol.
We’re into the hanger, and dash up the boarding ramp into the Anaconda. On the bridge, I check the ship’s security systems, to be sure no-one is lurking on board. Seems clear. None the less, Eddie offers to stay, just in case. It’s not until we’re powering away from Austen Town that I realise he has a RemLok on too, under that fine leather coat.
“Oh, man,” I exclaim, “what about you? You’ve got a ship back there?” He shrugs.
“No big deal,” he replies, “let’s get away from here first. I can always get a shuttle back, or get Inter Astra to transfer it somewhere.” I let out a breath, nod, and Felicette punches her way into witch-space.
A few jumps later. We’ve landed at Silves Dock, Komovoy. We search the ship, but there’s no further threat. At the lifts in the lobby, I hug Eddie as he prepares to leave.
“Thank you,” I say simply. He smiles, fumbles in a pocket and hands me a data tab.
“Contact details,” he says, “just in case. You take care, sister.” The lift door closes behind him, and I walk slowly back to the ship. In the cabin, a mug of coffee helps calm my nerves, as does stroking a purring Gabby. I put my thoughts in order, and wonder who the hell has put a price on my head, and why. It doesn’t take long. Chandra. That conniving bitch. She knows she’s onto something, after the little incident in Angelo’s hallway. I sigh and close my eyes. I don’t want to be dodging bounty hunters for the rest of my life. But I suddenly recall Angelo’s words, his meeting with Vice-Admiral Dixon.
“Vanished? Dead?”.
“To be more precise, we lost track of her.”
Guess it’s time to vanish again, let the trail go cold. I can’t take Felicette, much as I love her. But I’ve been fitting out another ship which will do just perfectly. They say, once an explorer, always an explorer, and I’d been thinking about going off to look at stuff again anyway.
A few hours later, I am flying a Diamondback Explorer out of the docking bay at Bonkers, Wolf 25. She’s called Lynx. Optimised as much as possibly for exploration; she will do a good seventy LY in one jump. Suppose I could have squeezed a bit more out of her, were it not for the class three dumbfire missile rack – but where I’m planning on going, I am not travelling there unarmed.
Come on then, Chandra. See if any of your bounty hunters and mercenaries can keep up with me now. See if any of them have got the balls to follow me...
...into the Formidine Rift.