Stalker's Exile: Solitude Saga, #3

By Chris Strange

IN THE DARKEST REACHES OF THE VOID, THERE ARE SECRETS WORTH KILLING FOR.

When hijackers take control of a corporate ship and disappear without a trace, they escape with a bounty on their heads and a secret powerful enough to bring down entire corporations.

Bounty hunters Eddie Gould and Dom Souza take the contract to recover the stolen ship and apprehend the fugitives. But when they track the hijackers to a vast exile ship, home to thousands of refugees from dead colonies, they soon discover they aren't the only ones on the hunt.

As rival corporations send their own agents in search of the hijackers, Eddie and Dom become embroiled in a shadow war being waged within the exile ship's ancient hull.

And in a war like this, there's only one rule.

Everyone is expendable.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cheeky Minion
• Release date: Jun 5, 2015
• ISBN: 9781513067858

Book preview

STALKER’S EXILE

THE SOLITUDE SAGA #3

Chris Strange

Cheeky Minion Books

www.Chris-Strange.com

Map of the Eleda System

Eleda System Map

Click image to enlarge.

View the high resolution version online: http://bit.ly/EledaMap3

1

As he stood in the dim yellow light of the airlock bay, Eddie Gould decided that there was no item of clothing in the system—hell, probably the whole damn galaxy—that was more uncomfortable than the voidsuits aboard the Solitude.

He’d been sweating into the bulky suit for an hour and a half now, not even able to sit down. The metal ring that connected the suit to the helmet rubbed at the back of his neck, catching and pulling at the hairs there. He had blisters on his heels just from wearing the boots, and despite his long legs the crotch was so high he knew he was going to be infertile from here on out.

To hell with the cosmic radiation. It was this suit that’d be the death of him.

He thumbed the intercom button on the airlock wall.

Anything? he said.

Dom Souza’s voice crackled back through the speaker. Not yet.

You’re sure this is the place?

You know the kind of people I bought the information from. Informants like that are never reliable.

Then how long are we going to wait?

Got something better to do? she said. Give it another couple of hours.

He groaned. I’m dying here, Freckles.

Tell it to someone who cares.

You don’t care? I thought we were partners.

We are. But all this complaining is making me awfully tempted to open that airlock door early. I can always get a new partner.

He adjusted the voidsuit’s crotch, trying to get some blood flowing. No you can’t. You’ll never find someone willing to agree to your ridiculous plans.

Eddie moved away from the intercom, magboots clanking on the bay floor as he made his way to the small porthole in the outer airlock door. The glass was scratched and frosted from decades of use. His breath steamed it up as he peered through. All he could make out were a few hundred scattered stars. They were on the outskirts of the Utan asteroid belt, but the asteroids out here were so small and so sparse that he couldn’t see a single one. It didn’t help that the system’s star was only a distant ball of orange, its light straining to reach this far out.

The steady clicking sound of the artificial gravity echoed all around him, and on top of that was the faint hissing of the ship’s life support. The only other sound was the creaking of the ship’s hull as it hung suspended in the void. The engines were powered down, as were most other non-essential systems. They didn’t want their prey to know they were waiting.

The intercom crackled again.

You know, Dom said, if you’re really bored, I could play you a tune.

No.

I’ve been practising this one. I’m getting pretty good.

You aren’t, Freckles. You really aren’t.

I’ll show you, she said.

Don’t you fucking dare. I swear to God I’ll—

The metallic whistle of the harmonica screeched its way out of the intercom. Eddie groaned and tried to cover his ears. But even with his visor up, he couldn’t fit his gloved hands inside his helmet far enough to block out the hideous sound.

That’s not funny, Freckles. You’re playing it like that on purpose, aren’t you?

The screeching continued. Eddie punched the intercom speaker, but it just added an extra static hiss to the off-tune music.

That’s it, he said. I’m depressurising the airlock. I can’t hear when there’s no air.

But before he could start the depressurisation sequence, a beep crackled through the intercom. Dom’s harmonica tune broke off.

Eddie paused. Freckles? What have we got?

Ship coming out of a dark road. Three hundred and eight kilometres away. Medium-sized cruiser, by the look of the grav signature.

Is it our girl?

Hold on. I can’t scan her until she’s clear of the dark road.

Eddie looked through the porthole once more, searching for the ship among the stars. But if it was there, he couldn’t see it.

Scanning, Dom said. Something beeped on her end. "It’s her. It’s the Milbel."

Then what the hell are we waiting for?

Powering engines, she said. Hold on to something.

Eddie grabbed hold of a grip rail just as he heard the engines power up. The ship jolted around him, his stomach lurching for a moment before the inertial dampeners kicked in. He looked through the window, but there was nothing to tell him how fast they were accelerating.

He licked his lips and tried once more to adjust the voidsuit. Inside, he could feel his sweat-laden underclothes sticking to his skin and the suit’s inner lining. When this was over and they had their bounty money, he’d make sure Dom upgraded to some decent goddamn voidsuits. A man could not be expected to jump headlong into the void with his skin rubbed raw.

Visual range, Dom said. "The Milbel looks good. No structural damage. They haven’t noticed us. Closing to boarding range."

All right. I’m starting depressurisation. Switching to tab.

Eddie turned off the airlock intercom and slid his visor into place, locking it so it sealed. Well, he hoped it sealed, anyway. With this damn suit, you could never be sure.

He punched the over-sized button on the control panel to start the depressurisation sequence. A warning light flashed orange overhead. He kept a careful eye on the dial on his right forearm as the airlock hissed, sucking the air out of the room. But the pressure inside the suit held steady.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he touched the tab fitted into his left forearm. The tab was designed for use by ungloved hands. But after a couple of tries, he opened a connection to Dom.

How’s that, Freckles?

Five by five, her voice echoed inside his sealed helmet. I’m locking weapons. Opening comms.

Keep me patched in.

The warning light overhead flashed off. The airlock had been depressurised. He gave the pressure dial on his forearm another wary glance, but the readout didn’t wobble. He had enough oxygen and carbon dioxide scrubbers to keep him going a couple of hours. More than enough time.

"Attention, Milbel, Dom’s voice boomed through the speaker in his helmet. She was putting on her authoritative voice. This is the stalker vessel Solitude. The ship you are currently in control of has been reported as hijacked by Voxlink Communications. We have a contract to recover the Milbel and apprehend those responsible for its theft. In the name of the Eleda Federation, you are ordered to surrender. Power down all engines, lay down your weapons, and prepare to be boarded."

The only response was silence. Eddie stomped over to the porthole once more. His own breathing sounded loud inside the suit. He could hear the groaning of the Solitude coming up through his boots.

He wiped his glove across the porthole glass, trying to clean it, and leaned forward to rest the visor against its surface. Out in the void, he could just make out the smooth, sleek shape of the Milbel, its engines glowing orange in the black.

Its outer hull was old and worn, but it’d been well cared for over the centuries. No visible scorch marks, no loose panels, nothing to indicate a skirmish had taken place. These hijackers were good. They’d taken care to avoid damaging the ship in the fight.

The Milbel was larger than the Solitude, maybe twice its length and three times as wide. Crew of eight to ten, according to the files they’d received. Eddie could just glimpse Voxlink Communications’ logo plastered across the port side, two interlinking sine waves in baby blue.

This is your last chance, Dom said. Surrender now. We have weapons locked. I repeat, we have weapons locked.

Nothing for a moment. Then the Milbel’s engines grew brighter and they started to accelerate away from the Solitude.

They’re running, Freckles, Eddie said.

I see it, I see it.

I don’t know why you bother talking to them. Everyone always runs.

Firing.

The void was suddenly lit with the glow of a blue anti-ship beam. The Solitude’s only real weapon.

It struck the Milbel’s engines instantly. Sparks ripped through the fleeing ship’s rear section. Then the engines grew dim and flickered off.

Nice shooting, Freckles, Eddie said. He picked up his boarding gun and its ammunition, loading the compact weapon. After checking it over one last time, he strapped it to his suit’s chest.

Closing again, Dom said. You ready?

Christ. I guess. If I die, I want it noted that I told you this was a terrible idea.

It’s only a terrible idea if you screw up the jump. Matching velocity.

Eddie wished his visor didn’t keep fogging up so bad. He unspooled a tether from the airlock ceiling and clipped it to the back of his suit.

Then, with his heart hammering in his chest, he took hold of the release lever and tugged it down.

Opening outer airlock door, he said. Keep her steady, Freckles.

He wrapped one hand around the grip bar. With a red warning light this time, the outer airlock door began to slide open. And in a few seconds, only the protective fabric of his voidsuit stood between him and the black vacuum.

The void had appeared small and clouded through the porthole just moments before. But now Eddie stared into the vast blackness. It stretched out before him, endless. Even the scratched surface of his helmet visor did little to shield his eyes from the huge expanse of nothingness.

Eyes on the prize, Gould, he told himself.

One careful step at a time, he approached the edge of the airlock. Even though he was still inside the artificial gravity field, he kept the magboots engaged and one hand on the grip rail. When he jumped, it was going to be on his terms. The suit came equipped with a basic propulsion unit, but it didn’t have the delta-v to correct major errors in course.

Dom pulled the Solitude alongside the Milbel, thrusters firing in short bursts to match velocity as closely as possible. Though the corporation cruiser’s main engines had blown, its verniers were still operational. They fired wildly, sending puffs of white into the void, changing the ship’s attitude at random to prevent docking.

One well-placed shot to the Milbel’s bridge would put an end to all that. But Eddie and Dom needed these people alive and the ship’s contents intact if they wanted the whole bounty. And as Eddie looked across the expanse of space that separated the Solitude from the Milbel, he decided that he very, very much wanted that bounty. Nothing else would be worth this stupidity.

She’s moving a lot, Freckles, Eddie said. This isn’t going to be fun.

She’s only flailing. She can’t escape.

She can splatter me pretty good if I don’t time this right.

Then time it right.

Eddie looked at his own scowling reflection inside the helmet visor. You’re a real pain in the arse, Freckles. I ever tell you that?

Once or twice. Come on. I’ve cut engines. You’re good to go. Just think how good this will read in your next book.

He said nothing. He hadn’t told her that he hadn’t written a word in weeks, and this didn’t seem the best time to reveal it.

He scanned the Milbel’s portside hull, looking for the airlocks and emergency entrances. He spotted one just beneath a wide observation wing, about midway along the Milbel’s length. The door was outlined in more of that baby blue paint.

Are you sure they haven’t sealed the emergency airlocks? he said.

No. The ship’s not designed for it. But that doesn’t mean they haven’t welded them shut.

Hell.

He tested the strength of the tether. Seemed secure. He took a deep breath and touched his forearm control panel. With a clunk that reverberated through his suit, the magnets disengaged on his boots.

Still holding the grip rail inside the airlock bay, he stretched his other hand through the open door and grasped for the rail on the external hull. As his arm passed through the artificial gravity field, a tingling went through his skin. Slowly, he pulled himself out of the airlock bay.

His stomach was suddenly floating. Gripping the rail for dear life, he swung himself out onto the hull alongside the airlock door and planted his feet so he was crouched, ready to push off toward the Milbel.

Are you in position? Dom said. We can’t let them get the engines back up.

Eddie eyed the Milbel as it swayed to and fro through the void, verniers firing. He waited, poised, his mouth dry and his eyes fixed on the emergency airlock door across the void.

Nothing else mattered. Not the risk of asteroid strike, not the raw skin on the back of his neck or the possibility of finding armed resistance on the other side. The only thing that mattered was reaching that door.

Freckles? he said.

Yeah?

Don’t touch my stuff while I’m gone.

Roger, she replied.

Eddie released the grip rail and leapt into the abyss.

2

As soon as Eddie’s boots left the hull of the Solitude, all external sounds disappeared. His breath echoed inside his helmet. The blood rushed in his ears.

He saw immediately that he was off course. With a touch of the control panel on his forearm, the suit’s propulsion unit sent out a puff of gas. His orientation twisted slightly. With another puff, he brought himself back on course.

He ignored the endless void all around him. Focus on the door. Get inside.

There’d be angry men with guns there. But Eddie could deal with gunmen. The fear of getting shot was nothing compared to the fear of floating through the abyss until his life support gave out.

The Milbel twisted on its axis. Eddie adjusted his course again, keeping the door in the centre of his vision.

Status? Dom’s voice crackled through his helmet.

Concentrating.

You’re running out of tether.

Tell me when I need to release. Until then, shut up.

Steady, steady. He was close enough now to see the grip rails surrounding the Milbel’s emergency entrance. Plenty to grab hold of. If he didn’t splatter himself on the hull.

Five seconds, Dom said.

Eddie punched the button on his belt. Something clicked behind him. He couldn’t turn his head to see if he was clear.

Dom’s voice hissed urgently. Eddie, you’re still attached.

What?

The suit jolted around him, as if someone had grabbed him by the belt and jerked sharply backwards. Then something snapped and he was spinning, spinning.

Eddie! Dom said.

Shit! The fucking tether didn’t release properly. Stars spun through his vision. He got a glimpse of the Milbel. Then it was gone again, flying out of sight. I think I’m loose now. But I’m out of control.

I can see you, Dom said. "You’re still heading for the Milbel. You’re spinning like crazy."

I noticed.

He jabbed at his control panel. The propulsion unit puffed gas around him. But he couldn’t tell which way was which, whether he was slowing his spin or making it worse.

"The Milbel’s swinging back towards you, Dom said. Stop the spin. Stop it or you’ll slam right into the hull."

I know, Christ, I know. Shut up.

Take it easy. Nice and slow. Here we go.

He touched his control panel, carefully now. Short bursts of gas puffed out. The void was spinning slower now. The stars were points again instead of white streaks across his vision. And as he rotated once more, he saw the Milbel fill his visor. Hurtling towards him.

Only a few seconds until he hit. He needed to get oriented. Now.

He touched the control panel twice more. The void steadied itself. The Milbel raced towards him.

Reverse thrust now! Dom shouted.

He slammed on the retrograde thruster. It hit him like a punch in the chest. The Milbel slowed its approach. He was close enough now to make out the flakes of paint around the emergency exit door.

He got his hands out in front of him just as he slammed into the ship’s hull. His head snapped forward, forehead cracking against his visor. Spots floated in his vision.

Clumsy, stalker, a gravelly voice whispered in his ear. Lack of sleep will do that to you, you know. When was the last time you slept, Eddie?

Shut up, he mumbled, head spinning.

His gloved hand brushed along the hull.

Grab something, Eddie, the voice said. Grab something or you’re dead.

As he began to rebound off the hull, the fingers of his left hand wrapped around a grip rail. His arm jerked taut, stopping him. Vibrations from the Milbel echoed inside his suit.

Eddie, Dom said. Are you all right?

He shook the thickness from his head. Yeah. Yeah.

He blinked and turned his body, still holding the rail. The emergency door was right next to him. He’d landed almost exactly on target. Just with a bit more velocity than he’d intended.

The Milbel was still twisting and rotating. But now he was moving with it, easily keeping hold as the ship slowly moved around. The Solitude couldn’t dock until those vernier thrusters were taken out. Which meant he was on his own.

Keeping hold of the grip rail, he pulled himself around the airlock door until he arrived at the emergency opening lever. He planted his feet on the hull to steady himself, then took hold of the lever and tugged it down. The airlock door slid open. Air rushed out of the open door, buffeting Eddie as he held on.

After a moment, the wind ceased. As the door slid fully open, he pulled himself inside. His stomach settled back down as he passed into the artificial gravity field, knees jarring as he landed heavily on the airlock bay floor. As quick as he could, he found the airlock control panel, ordered the door shut, and started the repressurisation process.

I’m in, Eddie said. His voice only shook a little.

He unstrapped his boarding gun from his chest and checked to see it had survived the impact. The gun was bulky but light. The grip was over-sized like a kid’s toy, made to be wielded with gloved hands. The magazine had a handle at the base to allow easier removal and replacement. It was loaded with low velocity, non-piercing rounds, to reduce the chance of hull penetration in an unarmoured ship.

The yellow light overhead stopped flashing. Pressurisation complete. Eddie unlocked his visor, slid it up, and moved to the inner airlock door.

I’m going in, he said to Dom. See anything?

No change. Someone must be at the helm to be waving her around like that. You need to cut the vernier thrusters so I can dock.

He checked his tab. Ship plans say I’m not far from the engine room. If I can cut the fuel input, that should do it.

Be careful. We don’t know how many bad guys there are.

You worry about keeping that crate of yours nearby. I’ll deal with the bad guys.

Raising his gun, he punched a button and the inner airlock door slid open. A siren wailed, screaming in his ears. A wide corridor of clean, brushed steel ran left to right in front of him. No one in sight.

He stepped out, swinging the gun along the corridor in one direction and then the other. The lights were on, casting the walls into pale white. In both directions he could see doors and more corridors branching away. Towards the bow, the metallic walls gave way to white padded surfaces. In the other direction, the metal remained, and in the distance he could see red warning lights strobing. According to the ship plans, that was the way to the engine room and the fuel pumps. He set off.

His heavy boots clanged along the walkway. It was slow going in the bulky voidsuit. He sure as hell couldn’t run. But he wasn’t willing to spend five minutes taking it off without someone covering him. He didn’t want to get caught with his pants down. And if the hijackers took it into their heads to depressurise the rear compartments, he’d like to still be able to breathe.

He made his way deeper into the Milbel’s bowels, following the plans on his tab. Posters and safety protocols and evacuation procedures were plastered across the walls every couple of metres, most faded with age. Voxlink Communications’ logo was printed in the corner of every one. Just in case the employees forgot who they worked for, he guessed.

As he went deeper into the ship, the rumbling grew louder. Over the howling siren he could hear something sparking, something else crackling.

Following the tab’s directions, he ducked into a side corridor and went through an open door into a maintenance crew station. A stink of copper and ammonia floated in the air. A smell that set Eddie’s teeth on edge.

Flickering monochrome computer terminals lined the walls of the small room. In the corner, a crew roster was posted, half-covered by three hand-drawn sketches of nude women, legs spread and backs arched. The strobing red light cast the other half of the room into shadow. As alerts played across the vid screens, listing the damage to the engines, Eddie searched the terminals for something that would shut off this damn alarm.

His gaze fell on an override switch. He flipped it, and the siren cut off with a strangled yelp. The red lights flickered and disappeared, replaced a moment later by pale white lights.

It was only then that Eddie noticed the body of Voxlink’s chief engineer crumpled up and jammed under the desk.

The man had been round-faced and short, with his black hair cropped tight against his skull. There was a wound in one cheek and another two in his chest, the bullets leaving burnt holes in his pale blue uniform. Above one of the holes on his right breast was pinned his ID card, listing the man’s position on the ship and giving Eddie his name, Luc Couture.

The blood stains on Couture’s uniform had gone from red to shit-brown. He’d been here a while. It’d been three days since the Milbel was hijacked. The engineer looked like he’d been dead for most of that time. As Eddie cast a sad gaze over the man’s body, he no longer held out any hope that the rest of the crew had survived.

Freckles, he said. Found a dead crewman. Shot, close range.

Shit.

Yeah. Continuing on.

He stood, paused, and turned back to the man’s body. There was something rectangular sticking out of Couture’s trouser pocket. Crouching as best he could in the voidsuit, Eddie fumbled for the object. A plastic keycard with a red handle fell out into the pool of dark, sticky blood. Could help get him where he needed to go. He clumsily picked it up and tucked it into a pouch on the front of his suit as he passed into another corridor.

With the siren dead, he could hear again. An intercom was crackling somewhere, but no one spoke through it. Some piece of machinery was groaning deep in the ship’s bowels, coughing every few seconds. As he continued on, he could taste the stink of ship fuel in the air. He was getting close.

Something squelched as it stuck to the sole of his boot. He paused, looking down at the pool of dried blood on the floor. He followed the streaks of red up the wall, to the overlapping sprays of blood covering a Voxlink poster. There were two bullet holes in the poster. They didn’t match the placement of the chief engineer’s wounds. Someone else had been shot here.

He moved on, darkness growing around him. A vid screen on the corridor wall glitched, playing the same two seconds of an inspirational quote over and over again through crackling speakers.

Your hard work makes our family…. Your hard work makes our family…. Your hard work makes our family….

For a few metres, the flickering of the vid screen was the only light in the corridor. As he passed out of its glow, he squinted and glanced behind him.

Far back, something squeaked on the metal walkway. Two figures hurried down the corridor in his direction. One was a man, one a woman, both young and lean and mean-looking.

As they passed beneath a flashing light, he saw they wore dirty, mismatched clothes long out of fashion, and both were armed with large, semi-automatic pistols. It’d only be seconds until they spotted him in the dim light.

Eddie spun himself around, struggling in the bulky voidsuit. His mouth went dry. He raised his boarding gun.

Put ‘em down, boys and girls! he yelled down the corridor. Drop the guns. Drop them now!

The two figures skidded to a halt. Eddie felt their eyes searching for him in the dark. The woman raised her weapon.

Eddie fired a burst of the boarding gun over their heads. The man dived to the ground, while the woman split to the right, diving through an open door into an adjacent room.

No point sticking around and getting into a firefight. He wanted these pirates as alive as possible. He turned and plunged down another corridor, moving as fast as his suit would allow. No use keeping quiet now.

This corridor was narrower, the ceiling lower. Pipes and cabling ran along the walls for easy maintenance, disappearing through the twisting passages. The white lights gave way to harsh orange ones. A cracked pipe vented steam into the path, making the air hot and wet. Eddie turned his back so his suit took the blast of steam as he hurried deeper.

He heard running footsteps behind him again, the sound echoing through the corridors. Clanging and shouting and the bleeping of tabs.

A closed steel door loomed ahead of him. According to his tab, this was the entrance to the fuel pump room. He mashed the control panel with his gloved hand. With a beep, the door began to slide open on its rails. It did it awful slow.

Where’d the fucker go? a voice echoed through the corridor behind him.

Down here.

Are you sure?

Of course I’m sure. How do we get past the steam?

Just go through it.

To hell with that.

As soon as the door was open wide enough, Eddie slipped through and found the control panel on the other side.

Lock, he muttered to himself. How the hell do I make you lock?

He jabbed a button, and the door shuddered and began to close once more. But it was rejecting his attempts to lock it.

Unzipping the pouch on his chest, he retrieved the chief engineer’s keycard and jammed it into the slot on the control panel. More buttons lit up as the terminal screen registered the card.

Down here! someone yelled. He’s going for the engines.

The door closed and Eddie pulled the locking lever. A series of clunks sounded as the pins drove home.

Exhaling, Eddie pulled the keycard out of the slot once more. The lock wouldn’t last forever, but he had a few minutes. Enough time.

He turned, taking in the fuel pump room for the first time. More computer terminals hugged the walls, these ones older and more impressive than the cheap, simple computers back in the engineer’s office. Maintenance walkways ran around and between the large pieces of machinery filling most of the room. Though the engines were down, the liquid fuel pumps still puffed and grunted, supplying fuel to the vernier thrusters. The air was heavy with the acid taste of ship fuel. The fumes were already giving him a headache.

There were two other doors out of the room. According to the plans, one led to a set of stairs and into the engine room, while the wider door allowed parts and equipment to be ferried between here and the cargo bay below. He went to each, locking them both with the help of the engineer’s keycard. Then he exhaled and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his gloved hand.

Freckles, he said, I’m at the fuel pump. Walk me through this.

* * *

Dom leaned over the Solitude’s helm, one eye on the terminals as she glanced out the starboard viewing window at the Milbel. Data and readouts scrolled across the terminal screens as the computer ran scan after scan on the hijacked ship.

As she instructed Eddie on the procedure to shut down the fuel pumps, she fidgeted in her seat, hand drifting again and again to the heavy revolver strapped to her muscular thigh. She didn’t do well with this kind of waiting.

What was that last one again? Eddie said, voice distorted by the connection. I can barely hear you over this damn thing.

ECS control. The panel should be near the outflow pipes.

I’m not seeing it, Freckles.

It’s there. Keep looking.

It’s so goddamn dark in here, he said. Wait. What’s that noise? You hear that?

She couldn’t hear it over the rumbling of the fuel pump coming through Eddie’s connection. But before she could respond, an alert flashed up on the scanning terminal. She tore her eyes from the viewing window and glanced over the message. Then she read it again.

Her heart lurched. She scrolled up through the alerts, confirming what she already knew. But the hijackers couldn’t be that stupid. Could they?

Her eyes flashed to the viewing window once more. A glow was building in the Milbel’s damaged engines. Sparks arced across the firing surfaces.

She muted Eddie and her hand slammed down on the comm transmit button.

"Milbel, this is the Solitude. Shut down your grav drive immediately. Do you copy? Shut it down. Your engines are damaged. Your ship is not capable of achieving the acceleration necessary to enter a dark road. Activating your grav drive without that acceleration will result in catastrophic failure of your ship’s hull. Repeat, shut down your grav drive immediately. Do you copy?"

The only response was the crackle of static.

Shit, she said. Shit!

* * *

Eddie, Dom’s voice crackled in his ear. Get out of there now.

What? he snapped. I’m kind of the middle of this, Freckles.

Drop it. Get off the ship. Now. They’re trying to jump back into a dark road.

He paused. I thought you killed their engines.

I did. But they’re powering up the grav drive anyway. I’m getting alerts all over the place.

Eddie stared down at the control panel in front of him. He didn’t know much about this old technology. But he knew Dom. And he could hear the fear in her voice.

What will happen? he said. When they try to jump, what will happen?

"The grav drive will rip the Milbel apart."

He slammed his gloved fist down on the control panel. They’d been tracking these bastards for two days. The bounty was over thirty million vin, the largest contract they’d ever had. He wasn’t going to let it get ripped away from them.

Keep talking, he said. I’ll shut down the fuel. That’ll shut down the grav drive.

There’s no time. Get out.

I can do this.

For the love of Man, get the hell out of there!

He growled in frustration. Goddamn it.

He spun away from the machinery controls and stomped to the door leading down to the cargo bay, cursing himself.

He should’ve gone straight to the bridge. He could’ve dealt with these goddamn pirates, voidsuit or no voidsuit. Wound a few of them, take control of the helm. But no. They’d decided to play it safe. And now they were going to lose everything.

He