Pegasi Shanghai - Chapter 3: Karma's a Bitch
23 Feb 2017Kyla Emmerich
Previous ChapterThis is it. My first time in space on my own, in my own ship. I feel the adrenaline surge through me as the Sidewinder lifts off the pad. It’s a piece of shit, but it’s my piece of shit. I’ve named it “Beginner’s Luck”, because I know I’m going to need a fair bit of that as I start out.
I can’t stop the wide grin taking over my face as I cruise out of the mailslot. For the first time in my life, I feel truly free. I feel like I am finally taking life into my own hands. The disappointment in Dad’s face means nothing to me now. I’m my own woman, and I’m going to make something of myself.
I once again awaken feeling groggy and with blurred vision. The feeling of a stasis hangover is becoming all too familiar. My body hurts, and my consciousness fades in and out over period of time. I squint, trying to gain focus, noticing that I am still inside a stasis pod.
Something woke me, but the door on the pod remained closed. My chest tightens and my breathing becomes shallow and rapid when I realise the situation I am in. I squirm and struggle, freeing one of my arms from the restraint. I use my free hand to untie the restraint on my other arm, and mustering the little strength I have, I attempt to kick open the pod door.
It only takes a few attempts before the door swings open and I tumble out of the pod, landing on my arms with a light thud.
The cargo bay is dark, only lit by dim red lights on the walls. I heave myself up, leaning against the wall as I try to stand. I glance around the cargo bay anxiously, my breathing is still shallow and my thoughts are a mess of white noise.
There are more stasis pods scattered around the enormous cargo bay. Judging by the mess of pods free from the racks that secure them, I assume that the ship has crashed landed somewhere, and the impact knocked my pod over, causing it to malfunction.
I stumble toward a pod, laying on its side with its door broken off. I check on its inhabitant. A young woman, no older than 20 lies on her back next to the detached door of her stasis pod. I crouch down and place my fingers below her jaw to check for a pulse. Nothing. I then notice the blood pooling around her head.
Poor girl. I guess this is a better fate than what was in store for us, wherever we are going.
I grab the girl’s lifeless hand, wrapping my fingers around her palm with a firm grasp.
You deserved better, whoever you are.
I slowly lower her hand, placing it on her chest. I look around the cargo bay once more, dreading to think of what fates the other occupants of their stasis pods were facing. I sway as I stand up, trying to keep my balance before I head toward the corridors of the ship.
I stumble slowly down the corridor, staying close to the wall for support while I struggle to maintain balance. The near silence is eerie - no chatter, no footsteps, not even emergency alarms. There’s little more than the occasional groan of twisting metal and the hum of the life support systems pumping air through the intact parts of the ship. Lights intermittently flicker but keep the corridors lit.
I find the crew quarters, a small room with four bunks stacked against the walls, with lockers between each. A man lies face down in the entrance. His leg is bent the wrong way from his knee, and there’s a small pool of blood beneath him. I turn him over to reveal who the man is - the same man guarding my cell when I first awoke after being sedated. I bend over and check his pulse, but he is lifeless.
Serves you right, scumbag.
Feeling woozy, I approach one of the bunks and sit down on the side. I take a few breaths, trying to keep myself from losing consciousness again.
I can’t rest now. Who knows how many of these arseholes are still alive.
I attempt to stand again, but gravity wins the battle and I topple over onto the bunk. Trying to remain upright consumes what little energy I have left.
Okay, fine. Five minutes to regain my composure.
I rest my forehead on the palms of my hands, and my eyes close.
”Who’s this?” I ask mum as I take a seat on the sofa.
“This is Gerald, we’ve been seeing each other for a few weeks now,” she replies.
She maintains a cheesy grin as the man stands up to shake my hand. His hair is short and dark with streaks of white all through, and he is dressed modestly - an outfit you’d expect to see in a nice pilot’s bar. I was taken aback.
“Nice to meet you, Kyla. Your mother’s told me plenty about you,” Gerald says.
His voice is gentle and he gives off a calm vibe - contrary to the usual men mum seems take interest in. I have a hunch that I might actually like this guy… for once.
“I hear you’re quite a keen pilot. What do you fly?”
“A Cobra MKIII. I help to… move stuff around.”
He grins as he takes a seat next to mum. “Ah, yes. I’ve heard good things about those. I was a space trucker myself, but I’m retired now. Had one too many close encounters with bad people, and decided it was time to settle here and enjoy the quiet life.”
“And then we met,” Mum says.
I smile and nod. “Well it’s nice to meet you, Gerald. You be good to her okay?”
He puts his arm around mum. “Of course! I’ve stumbled across a real gem.”
Mum gives a bashful look toward me. She looks happier than ever, and I think I’ll give this guy a chance. He has nailed the first impression so far.
I jolt awake suddenly, lying on my side on one of the bunks.
“Shit,” I whisper. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
The vivid dreams of past events bother me, especially since they are of happier times right in the middle of a shitty situation, like my mind is deliberately messing with me in a time of desperation, reminding me of what I once had when the likelihood of getting out of this alive is slim.
My head feels more clear and I am able to stand up without fighting to keep my balance. I take a moment to allow the sleep to fade from my eyes. The low hum of the life support continues to drone on, and the smell of machinery and a slight hint of burning fills the air.
On the wall hangs a rack of emergency space suits - the cheap kind that are anything but comfortable, but will stop the fluids in your eyes boiling away in a vacuum. In my situation, I am in no position to be picky, and I grab one of the suits, struggling to fit it and do it up.
I crouch down below the deceased scumbag, reaching my hand into his jacket and checking for anything that might be useful. I pull out his sidearm, loaded and ready to fire at a moment’s notice. He clearly wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.
Hopefully I’ll never have to use this, I think as I remove the holster from his belt and attach it to my own, before I engage the safety of the pistol and sheathing it. My next goal is to locate the bridge, hope like hell it’s still intact and hope even harder that there’s a way off this hunk of metal, and maybe find out of where I am in the process.
A lot of the doors down the corridor are sealed, presumably because of hull breaches. The only way to open them would be to get an override from an authorised crew member, which as I continue to search the ship for the bridge, I learn that they all seem to be dead. Normally I’d feel sorry for them, but given the experiences I’ve had so far, I feel nothing for anyone except those in the pods.
I hear a cough and a groan, startling me. I draw the pistol and flick off the safety, turning toward the source of the sound. To my surprise, I see Ronium himself, slouching against the wall. His face is covered with dried blood, and his arm appears to be snapped below the elbow, while a large cabinet has fallen on his leg.
I approach him, keeping the pistol pointed at his head.
“Well, it looks like karma is a bitch,” I say to him.
He coughs and takes a few breaths before replying. “You? How the hell…?”
“I got lucky, unlike some around here.”
His lips slowly curl to a smirk. “I wouldn’t call this lucky. We’re crashed on a barren world, no air, and the nearest base is about 1,000 kilometers away. Ain’t nobody coming to help us here.”
“Well, once I find the bridge, I might just set off a distress signal… If you’re lucky.”
“The canopy is blown out, and the entrance is sealed. You’ll need my key card to override it, but I’m not willing to part with it.”
I lean forward, pressing the gun against his forehead.
“You are not in the position to be arguing with me. Give me the key card!” I yell.
His voice whimpers and his lips tremble as the pain of his injuries, combined with the fear of having his brain blown out start to overwhelm him.
“Okay, okay, fine! Take it! Get the distress beacon online, and hopefully there’ll be enough oxygen left for someone to find us.”
After 15 minutes of searching, I find the entrance to the bridge. A small panel glows red, warning about the shattered canopy. I close the helmet of the suit and tap the panel with Ronium’s key card, and the panel glows blue, letting me know the lock has been overridden. Behind me, a door slams shut before the one in front slowly opens, sending all the air rushing outward and almost knocking me down.
The bridge is a grisly scene. Floor lighting flickers and the corpses of the helm crew are still in their seats while more than two thirds of the canopy glass is missing. Clearly their Remlok suits weren’t enough to save them from the crash.
I heave the corpse of the helmsman to the floor, landing with a silenced thud in the airless bridge. The console lights up, flickering intermittently, showing the damage report of the ship. Multiple hull breaches, powerplant on the verge of collapse and no end to systems failures. Reports show that the SRV bay is still in mostly working order, with a gaping hole leading right outside. If my luck is favourable, the SRV will be in working order as well.
I slow my stride as I walk past Ronium again. He coughs as he tries to speak to me.
“So, did you activate the distress beacon?”
My lips curl to a smirk. “No, actually. But I did find a way out of here. Someone was smart enough to pack a Scarab.”
His face turned to shock. “But… that only seats one.”
“Exactly.”
There was a brief moment of silence as Ronium processed what was going on.
“But… Are you fucking crazy?! You can’t leave me here like this!”
My brow furrows. “Really? I seem to remember you and your goon sedating me, throwing me in a cell, then throwing me into a stasis pod to be sold off to some shithole in Pegasi to live the rest of my life as a sex slave. Why the fuck should I help you?”
“You… You’re insane!”
“I could just kill you right here, right now, but I think you need some time to reflect on what a scumbag you’ve been in your life. Think about all the lives you’ve ruined in those stasis pods.”
His eyes widen. “Fuck you, you whore bitch!”
I turn and stride down the corridor.
“Goodbye, Ronium.”