I frown. They hung up? Why?
It’s not as if any of them could’ve recognized my voice. I was sixteen when I left, for star’s sake. And not many of them spent enough time around me to recognize my voice even if it had been a few dozen days, not decades.
I’ve no idea what’s going on, but if they’re just going to let us leave, who am I to argue. I nudge the engine a little faster, just to see the reaction from the larger vessel. With the new crystal, the engine can take a little faster than this even if it can’t outrun them.
A different voice, one I’m definitely not familiar with, opens back up the comm, “Unknown vessel, you will land in our hanger or your ship will be shot. Please comply.”
Okay, maybe not. Scowling, I ease the engine back to a wander, turning it in a one-eighty so the viewport is facing the massive vessel.
It’s much like I remember. Red paint, more worn now than near decades ago. A sleek design for a craft so large, long and slim wings, and a big belly of a hanger that’s doors are open. Back when I ran with them, it was a pretty small crew for such an impressive ship, but I’m sure it’s filled out by now.
More people. Great.
Their guns are indeed alive and humming along the sides of the hangar. Who knows how many weapons this thing has. I sigh. Arguing over the comm isn’t going to do me much good, I can already tell, and we can’t run. If we have a better option, I can’t think of it
Into the hangar it is.
Hopefully Zane and Lalia get the picture and follow along.
Ensuring the comm is shut completely, I say, “No one talk, no one mention Amerov or Captain or bounties or anything. Don’t even mention the bird on Falla or that we’re heading to Zar or my relation to anyone. If you have to talk, try to keep it to yes or no answers. As little as you can possibly talk.”
I give Anya a stern look, because Yvonne has a pretty good head on her shoulders and will keep her mouth shut—probably—but Anya is a kid and entirely too nice and trusting. I don’t want her thinking she can spill her guts to Captain Lee just because he smiles at her or offers her chocolate or something. He’s a fairly pleasant person and knows how to be charming. If Anya likes me, she’s going to like Lee. And I can’t have her telling him things.
“I won’t say anything,” Anya says, miming locking her lips and tossing the key. “If you don’t like these people, I don’t like these people.”
Well, that’s one way to look at it, I suppose. Nice kid. Too nice.
“And nothing about Bat either,” I add, because I simply don’t feel safe about this.
I think about having him hide in under the paneling of the ship again, but who knows how long they’re going to keep us here. And I’d rather not be separated from him. If he’s sitting on my shoulder or in his pack, I can’t protect him.
I grab the backpack while the ship drifts gently into the hangar, letting Bat jump in and sticking his little gun in one of the inside pockets for him.
“Do I still not get a gun?” Anya asks.
I level a glare at her while Yvonne manages to roll her eyes on not look panicked. “No, you do not. And stop asking for one.”
She shrugs.
I grab my normal weapons, briefly considering the rather large rifle I have stashed under my bed but thinking better of it. Diplomacy is going to be the only way out of this. And I’m shit at diplomacy.
At least Zane and Lalia are following in without trouble.
The hanger is much as I remember it. Smaller than the one in Captain’s ship but able to house a dozen or so vessels my size. A few dozen single-occupant fliers are moored along the walls. Glass windows for the control rooms sit high in the walls on the opposite ends to the wide doors. Other than that, pretty sparse. I wonder how many people are in here these days. Definitely more than when I was here by the looks of the ships.
I settle our ship on the rough metal floor, watching the hangar door close behind us as Zane and Lalia land alongside.
Even through the walls of my ship, there’s the distinct deep hiss of the giant airlock cycling closed after the hangar doors.
“Stay in your ship,” I tell the siblings over the comm. “I’m gonna try to talk our way out of this first.”
“Will do,” Lalia says, more serious than I’m accustomed to.
“You two stay as well, and don’t stand in the doorway,” I tell the princesses. Yvonne looks like she’s going to argue, but keeps her mouth shut. Anya’s eyes are wide.
I let my airlock cycle open and crouch along the rim, looking out. I don’t bother with my hood. Those that know me have seen, those that don’t…well, hopefully I’ll freak them out enough they won’t want to get near me or cross me.
The hangar is momentarily empty, but one of the doors along the opposite wall unseals, and out walks three people I don’t recognize. Not sure if that makes me feel better or worse. They’re dressed all differently, but more similar to me—comfortable and unnoticeable clothes, boots, jackets, guns. Two are rather short, one built like a brick. All three seem to be from different planets, completely different features. Makes sense. This little group draws bounty hunters from wherever.
I don’t move, hoping something about me will freak them out. I’m usually not concerned with trying to make people vastly uncomfortable, but I’m leaning a bit on the reputation of rogue cyborgs with this one. Maybe if no one here knows me, they’ll all be believing the rabid evil uncontrollable unregistered cyborg rumors. I’ve been with the princesses and the siblings so long I’ve almost forgotten how differently they treat me than everyone else.
“Would you like to tell me why you’re threatening me?” I ask.
The big beefy guy wanders around my ship, taking a better look. I watch him disappear. He’s big, sure, but I’ve dealt with big humans before. They’re slower than I am. Plus, humans have all sorts of little things to break—toes and fingers and noses and such. Bigger bones too, if they’re persistent.
One of the shorter ones is definitely too cocky, hands in his pockets, with a rather large pistol I think he may be compensating for something. Probably not the best line to bring up.
The third guy just looks uncomfortable. Good. If nothing else, I can play to his fear if I need to.
“You know how big the bounty is tagged on your ship?” Cocky asks.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m taking it in, genius.”
His mouth twitches down. Good. I don’t want these people to like me. Not getting violent is one thing, but kissing asses isn’t going to do me any good, so I’m not going to.
He asks, “Do you know who we are?” in a tone that makes my eye twitch.
“Of course I do. I used to run with this gang before you were ever here, pipsqueak.”
He can’t be much younger than me, but that’s beside the point.
His expression goes blank, which I find more satisfying than perhaps I should, but he also puts his hand on his oversized pistol, which is less great.
“You can come down from there. And bring whoever’s in there with you. Other ship too.”
“Or?” I ask.
He looks thrown. “Or?”
“Or what are you going to do? Shoot me.”
His eyebrow shoots up. “I’m considering it.”
“Well, sure you are,” I say, trying to buy time to figure out what’s going on. “But I’m a lot harder to kill than you are. Which means I’ll shoot you back. And sure, maybe the rest of your crew will come running out here and take me down. But not before I kill you. Personally.”
His mouth turns back down, eyes hardening. His problem is: he knows I’m right. He’s just met me and he knows I’m right. How much can one really threaten something that looks like me and think they can get away unharmed.
“How much is a bounty worth to you, really?” I ask. “Because I’m happy to pick you off, one by one, until you eventually overwhelm me. I’ll give you one thing, it’ll be easier to split the money between you all if most of you are dead.”
Inside the ship, Anya makes a small noise. I’m not sure if she worried for me, or if she’s finally realizing I’m not nearly as nice as her sister has been making me out to be.
The same door unlatches, and two more people stride out. I take my gun out of it’s holster, holding it loosely with my arm over my knee, not pointing it anyone but making it clear I’m not thrilled about the extra company. One of the people is a woman. I recognize her.
Oh hell.
The other is a man, tall, bushy-bearded and past middle age. He stops about halfway between the door and his men trying to posture at me.
“Aaron?” He asks, his voice rising an octave higher than I know it is. His eyes get huge enough I would probably snort under any other circumstances.
I touch my pistol to my forehead in a salute while Lee stares at me. “Captain.”
I frown. They hung up? Why?
It’s not as if any of them could’ve recognized my voice. I was sixteen when I left, for star’s sake. And not many of them spent enough time around me to recognize my voice even if it had been a few dozen days, not decades.
I’ve no idea what’s going on, but if they’re just going to let us leave, who am I to argue. I nudge the engine a little faster, just to see the reaction from the larger vessel. With the new crystal, the engine can take a little faster than this even if it can’t outrun them.
A different voice, one I’m definitely not familiar with, opens back up the comm, “Unknown vessel, you will land in our hanger or your ship will be shot. Please comply.”
Okay, maybe not. Scowling, I ease the engine back to a wander, turning it in a one-eighty so the viewport is facing the massive vessel.
It’s much like I remember. Red paint, more worn now than near decades ago. A sleek design for a craft so large, long and slim wings, and a big belly of a hanger that’s doors are open. Back when I ran with them, it was a pretty small crew for such an impressive ship, but I’m sure it’s filled out by now.
More people. Great.
Their guns are indeed alive and humming along the sides of the hangar. Who knows how many weapons this thing has. I sigh. Arguing over the comm isn’t going to do me much good, I can already tell, and we can’t run. If we have a better option, I can’t think of it
Into the hangar it is.
Hopefully Zane and Lalia get the picture and follow along.
Ensuring the comm is shut completely, I say, “No one talk, no one mention Amerov or Captain or bounties or anything. Don’t even mention the bird on Falla or that we’re heading to Zar or my relation to anyone. If you have to talk, try to keep it to yes or no answers. As little as you can possibly talk.”
I give Anya a stern look, because Yvonne has a pretty good head on her shoulders and will keep her mouth shut—probably—but Anya is a kid and entirely too nice and trusting. I don’t want her thinking she can spill her guts to Captain Lee just because he smiles at her or offers her chocolate or something. He’s a fairly pleasant person and knows how to be charming. If Anya likes me, she’s going to like Lee. And I can’t have her telling him things.
“I won’t say anything,” Anya says, miming locking her lips and tossing the key. “If you don’t like these people, I don’t like these people.”
Well, that’s one way to look at it, I suppose. Nice kid. Too nice.
“And nothing about Bat either,” I add, because I simply don’t feel safe about this.
I think about having him hide in under the paneling of the ship again, but who knows how long they’re going to keep us here. And I’d rather not be separated from him. If he’s sitting on my shoulder or in his pack, I can’t protect him.
I grab the backpack while the ship drifts gently into the hangar, letting Bat jump in and sticking his little gun in one of the inside pockets for him.
“Do I still not get a gun?” Anya asks.
I level a glare at her while Yvonne manages to roll her eyes on not look panicked. “No, you do not. And stop asking for one.”
She shrugs.
I grab my normal weapons, briefly considering the rather large rifle I have stashed under my bed but thinking better of it. Diplomacy is going to be the only way out of this. And I’m shit at diplomacy.
At least Zane and Lalia are following in without trouble.
The hanger is much as I remember it. Smaller than the one in Captain’s ship but able to house a dozen or so vessels my size. A few dozen single-occupant fliers are moored along the walls. Glass windows for the control rooms sit high in the walls on the opposite ends to the wide doors. Other than that, pretty sparse. I wonder how many people are in here these days. Definitely more than when I was here by the looks of the ships.
I settle our ship on the rough metal floor, watching the hangar door close behind us as Zane and Lalia land alongside.
Even through the walls of my ship, there’s the distinct deep hiss of the giant airlock cycling closed after the hangar doors.
“Stay in your ship,” I tell the siblings over the comm. “I’m gonna try to talk our way out of this first.”
“Will do,” Lalia says, more serious than I’m accustomed to.
“You two stay as well, and don’t stand in the doorway,” I tell the princesses. Yvonne looks like she’s going to argue, but keeps her mouth shut. Anya’s eyes are wide.
I let my airlock cycle open and crouch along the rim, looking out. I don’t bother with my hood. Those that know me have seen, those that don’t…well, hopefully I’ll freak them out enough they won’t want to get near me or cross me.
The hangar is momentarily empty, but one of the doors along the opposite wall unseals, and out walks three people I don’t recognize. Not sure if that makes me feel better or worse. They’re dressed all differently, but more similar to me—comfortable and unnoticeable clothes, boots, jackets, guns. Two are rather short, one built like a brick. All three seem to be from different planets, completely different features. Makes sense. This little group draws bounty hunters from wherever.
I don’t move, hoping something about me will freak them out. I’m usually not concerned with trying to make people vastly uncomfortable, but I’m leaning a bit on the reputation of rogue cyborgs with this one. Maybe if no one here knows me, they’ll all be believing the rabid evil uncontrollable unregistered cyborg rumors. I’ve been with the princesses and the siblings so long I’ve almost forgotten how differently they treat me than everyone else.
“Would you like to tell me why you’re threatening me?” I ask.
The big beefy guy wanders around my ship, taking a better look. I watch him disappear. He’s big, sure, but I’ve dealt with big humans before. They’re slower than I am. Plus, humans have all sorts of little things to break—toes and fingers and noses and such. Bigger bones too, if they’re persistent.
One of the shorter ones is definitely too cocky, hands in his pockets, with a rather large pistol I think he may be compensating for something. Probably not the best line to bring up.
The third guy just looks uncomfortable. Good. If nothing else, I can play to his fear if I need to.
“You know how big the bounty is tagged on your ship?” Cocky asks.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m taking it in, genius.”
His mouth twitches down. Good. I don’t want these people to like me. Not getting violent is one thing, but kissing asses isn’t going to do me any good, so I’m not going to.
He asks, “Do you know who we are?” in a tone that makes my eye twitch.
“Of course I do. I used to run with this gang before you were ever here, pipsqueak.”
He can’t be much younger than me, but that’s beside the point.
His expression goes blank, which I find more satisfying than perhaps I should, but he also puts his hand on his oversized pistol, which is less great.
“You can come down from there. And bring whoever’s in there with you. Other ship too.”
“Or?” I ask.
He looks thrown. “Or?”
“Or what are you going to do? Shoot me.”
His eyebrow shoots up. “I’m considering it.”
“Well, sure you are,” I say, trying to buy time to figure out what’s going on. “But I’m a lot harder to kill than you are. Which means I’ll shoot you back. And sure, maybe the rest of your crew will come running out here and take me down. But not before I kill you. Personally.”
His mouth turns back down, eyes hardening. His problem is: he knows I’m right. He’s just met me and he knows I’m right. How much can one really threaten something that looks like me and think they can get away unharmed.
“How much is a bounty worth to you, really?” I ask. “Because I’m happy to pick you off, one by one, until you eventually overwhelm me. I’ll give you one thing, it’ll be easier to split the money between you all if most of you are dead.”
Inside the ship, Anya makes a small noise. I’m not sure if she worried for me, or if she’s finally realizing I’m not nearly as nice as her sister has been making me out to be.
The same door unlatches, and two more people stride out. I take my gun out of it’s holster, holding it loosely with my arm over my knee, not pointing it anyone but making it clear I’m not thrilled about the extra company. One of the people is a woman. I recognize her.
Oh hell.
The other is a man, tall, bushy-bearded and past middle age. He stops about halfway between the door and his men trying to posture at me.
“Aaron?” He asks, his voice rising an octave higher than I know it is. His eyes get huge enough I would probably snort under any other circumstances.
I touch my pistol to my forehead in a salute while Lee stares at me. “Captain.”
