The Anne-Marie was an ugly ship, even when it was new. A blocky, utilitarian design with no aesthetic qualities of any kind. Her hull was painted a dull mud brown, her modular nature resulted in several asymmetrical bulges sticking out at odd angles, and decades of drifting through space had marred her with dozens of scars from micrometeor impacts.
The abandoned vessel tumbled lazily through the vacuum, propelled by the kinetic energy from its last collision, which had likely taken place years ago. Inside, the picture was not much better: Debris floated listlessly through the corridors, and exposed electrical cable waved about harmlessly, empty of voltage. The ship had certainly seen better days.
It was a pity that she was in such a state of disrepair, since for the first time since her abandonment, the Anne-Marie had a visitor. Sparks began erupting from her starboard airlock, starting at the top and working their way around in a large circle. The sparks finally met the starting point at the top, the sizzling metal rapidly cooling in the vacuum.
With a tremendous impact, the circular section of the airlock was knocked out of the hole, tumbling away down the interior passageway. On the other side, a figure lowered a massive hydraulic ram, its body covered head to toe in a bulky vacuum sealed suit.
The figure stepped through the hole carefully, its foot slamming to the floor as the electromagnets in its boot were drawn to the surface. It awkwardly strode down the hall, its gait clunky and rigid. Had there been any air for sound to travel through, the suit would surely have been making an obnoxious racket.
The figure slung the ram over its shoulder before beginning its slow but steady navigation of the Anne-Marie’s corridors. Coming to a passage with multiple doorways lining the bulkheads, it lifted its arm, tapping a few commands into the small computer built into the wrist of the suit.
A small diagram of the ship’s layout glowed to life on the computer’s screen. The polarized faceplate stared blankly at the diagram, studying the possible routes. After a few moments, it shut off the computer, and resumed its march down the hall.
The figure trundled its way through the ship, referring back to the diagram every once in awhile. Eventually, its destination came into view: the door to the cargo hold.
Raising its left arm, a small nozzle extended out from a compartment in the bulky wrist. The end flared a brilliant blue as the arc welder ignited, and the figure began to slowly run it across the door in a circle, patiently burning through the thick steel.
After 10 minutes of cutting and re-cutting to ensure the welder had sliced through the entire door, the blue arc vanished. The figure unslung the hydraulic ram, pressing it up against the center of the circle. With a flick of a switch, the ram backed outward, its cylinder emptying the fluid from its interior. It locked back, primed for use.
The figure braced itself, and pulled the trigger. The ram shot forward, pushing the circular section of the door out, sending it flying away.
Stepping through the rapidly cooling hole, the figure looked around the hold, shoulders visibly slumping. The cavernous room was completely empty.
Inside the suit’s helmet, the wearer groaned in frustration, before angrily jabbing a button on its wrist computer.
“Jai, this ship is a bust. There’s nothing here.” He said in a clipped, frustrated tone.
A tinny response came through the helmet’s internal speakers.
“What? No, that can’t be right, Riley assured me this info was on the money.”
“Well, Riley was wrong.”
There was a brief pause on the other end.
“You checked the cargo hold?”
The man walked forward, looking around to ensure he hadn’t missed anything as he replied.
“I’m inside right now. There’s nothing.”
“What about the bridge? Or the sensor suite?” Jai asked.
“Not yet.” The suited man turned around making his way back to the entrance into the hold. “Not that it’ll make a big difference. The cargo was supposed to be the big score.”
“We’ll manage, Cap.” Jai assured him. “There’s gotta be something salvageable on that heap.”
“I hope so…” the captain muttered as he clambered back through to the hole he had cut in the door. Bringing up his wrist again, he accessed the Anne-Marie’s schematics, plotting out his route to the bridge.
As he clumsily strode down the ship’s corridors, the captain spoke into his headset.
“Jai, what exactly did Riley have to say about this job?”
“Hang on, let me pull up our notes.” The captain continued his journey down the corridor as he waited for the forthcoming information. The vessel was small, so the trip was fairly short. The bridge door was visible up ahead when Jai’s voice crackled through the headset.
“Should have been a full load of rai spices in the hold, man. You sure there wasn’t anything you missed?”
The captain walked up to the door, unsheathing his welder as he answered. “Not easy to miss much in an open hold, Jai. I’m telling you, there was nothing there.” He began to cut his way through the door, his welder moving in a slow circle against the surface “Anything else? Files, important passengers, any good tech?”
There was a pause while Jai read through the report on the Anne-Marie. “Not really, just the cargo. The ship itself isn’t too fancy either, just a standard Helena-class. We can try to scavenge the sensor suite and maybe some of the engines, but she’s pretty old, cap. They probably won’t fetch much.” Jai sighed, the old helmet speaker turning the sound into a burst of static. “Sorry, Jeremy. I guess this is a bust.”
Jeremy gave a sigh of his own as he finished his cut. Punching the door out with his ram, he stepped onto the bridge. The room was a mess; debris floated lazily through the vacuum, and the viewport was shattered, the only remains of the triple layered vacuum-resistant plexiglass were what few shards had stayed anchored in the frame. He snaked his way through the command consoles arrayed across the room, scanning for anything valuable.
Jeremy approached the captain’s chair, bringing up his wrist computer and powering it on. He unhooked a power cord from his suit’s generator, and ripped off a panel on the captain’s computer console. Rummaging through the machine’s innards, he found the main power input, and rigged his power cord into the line, splicing the wires in. With a spark, the console powered on, lines of text running across the screen.
He opened up an interfacing application, and began accessing the ship’s main computer. Behind his visor, his eyes flitted through lines of texts as he rummaged through the computer’s files, looking for anything interesting or valuable.
File after file scrolled by, nothing more than shipping routes and trade certifications flashing across the screen. Jeremy’s heart sank further and further as he scanned the useless information. Sighing, he powered down the console.
“Just checked the main hard drive, Jai,’ he growled, frustration seeping into his voice. “There’s nothing. Just standard documentation, nothing extra.”
“Damn,” Jai muttered. “Well, check the tech. Let’s see what we can rip out of that junk heap.”
Jeremy pulled out of the data files, and began to sift through the ship’s system files, reading through the various utilities and machines the Anne-Marie was equipped with. A standard jump drive, a basic LADAR system, a single thruster, and an outdated fusion reactor. All salvageable, but not nearly the profit they thought they’d be raking in.
“Jai, go ahead and have the crew suit up, and send them through. We’re gonna strip the systems. Tell them to meet me in the engine room.”
“Got it, boss.”
Jeremy turned, and left the bridge, making is way to the ship’s elevator. The door was shut, but he had soon burned his way through, and punched the hole out. He clambered through the rapidly cooling hole, his boots latching onto the walls of the elevator shaft.
He made his descent as quickly as the ungainly suit would allow, striding downwards towards the engineering deck. Periodic glances at his map kept him updated on his progress down the shaft. The trip was slow, but after nearly a half hour of walking, he reached the door. Jumping to the far wall, Jeremy reached above him and began cutting another hole in the door, then knocking it out with his ram as he had done before.
Emerging from the elevator into the passageway, his boots locked to the floor. He made his way to the rear of the ship, his pace plodding.
A high-pitched, feminine voice broke out over his headset. “Hey, Cap. Having fun?”
Jeremy smiled, rolling his eyes. “Time of my life, Tala. You?”
“You know it, boss-man. Where are you?”
“On my way. Just got to Engineering.”
“Well, hurry it up Cap. We can’t do this without our big, strong leader.”
Shaking his head inside his helmet, he increased his speed, no easy task in the vacuum suit.
The engineering deck was large, and much messier than the main deck and cargo deck. Broken pipes jutted out from the ceiling and bulkheads at odd angles, and the passageways were cluttered with floating debris. Most of it Jeremy was able to walk through without issue, but some pieces of equipment were too massive to simply push aside, requiring him to contort his way around them.
Luckily, the elevator was very close to the primary engine room, where he was meeting his crew. He eventually arrived at the door, which was stuck halfway open. The door would have been too far closed to allow him access, were it not for the freshly burned hole in it.
Jeremy sidled through the opening, and looked around the room, eyes flitting between the various members of his crew as they worked to dismantle the engine’s systems.
A small figure crawled through the complex control wiring connecting the primary command console to the equipment. The figure wore a form-fitting hardsuit, much more expensive and efficient than Jeremy’s clumsy vac-suit. Her name was Talachamantana, or Tala for short, his engineer. She crawled around on all four of her lanky, dexterous limbs, her small frame easily navigating the cramped space.
Another figure was cutting loose a part of the engine’s power system, using a portable plasma cutter. This was Kell Vellus, Jeremy’s security officer. He wore a set of military-grade vacuum sealed armor, with none of the fancy scavenging equipment Jeremy or Tala had, so he had to carry his equipment separately.
The last of his crew stood closest to the door, typing away at her wrist com. She had three legs set up like a tripod, two forward and one rear. Her body shape, as could be seen from the shape of its hardsuit, was thin and spindly, with long limbs and many jutting edges.
Her name was Victa Ing-Kilss. Victa was Jeremy’s executive officer, and kept things running optimally. Though she was curt, and often times a bit harsh, she did her job well.
She turned to address him as he stepped into the room.
“You’re late, Captain.” she said, irritation evident in her voice.
“Sorry, V. Big ship.” Jeremy strode past her, avoiding the glare he knew was behind her polarized faceplate. “So! What’ve we got?”
She clicked irritatedly. “KyTech Industries Mark VIII fusion plant, and a corresponding Mark VIII fusion thruster. We’re taking what we can off of the plant, and then we’ll load the thruster into the main bay.”
Jeremy turned around. “We can’t get the whole plant?”
Victa gave an exasperated sigh. “We’ve been over this, Captain, we don’t have the volume in the hold. If you want larger hauls, then we need a larger ship.”
Jeremy shook his head. “We’ve got no cash for that,” he said easily, seemingly unconcerned. “We’ll just take what we can.”
Behind her faceplate, Victa narrowed black, pupil less eyes at him. She had some stern words for him, but that conversation would have to wait until later. Right now, there was work to be done.
They worked with practiced ease, hundreds of previous jobs just like this one having drilled the routine into their heads. Quickly and efficiently, they stripped the valuable components from the plant, and pushed them through the vacuum to the engineering deck’s aft airlock, strapping the various components to the deck to await transportation onto their ship.
“Jai, you ready for us? We’re just about done with the plant.”
“Cargo hold is depressurized and bay door is open, Cap. Good to go.”
“Good,” Jeremy cut the connection, and addressed his gathered crew. “Let’s do it, folks!”
They burned their way through each door of the airlock, exposing the deck to open space. A few hundred meters away drifted another vessel, about ⅔ the size of the Anne-Marie. It had a tapered hull that widened towards the stern, where a cavernous cargo hold gaped at them, the lights inside spilling out into the darkness. The ship’s name was painted in stark white across its grey hull: The Fox.
The crew set to work, pushing their haul to the lip of the airlock. Kell approached the opening, hefting a bulky harpoon gun. A thick cable trailed from the launcher onto a spool they had set up near the airlock. He positioned himself at the door frame, took aim, and fired. The cable shot out into the void, its magnetic tip latching onto the deck of the Fox’s cargo hold.
They set to work hooking the various pieces of equipment to the cable, and then pushing them out the airlock, letting their momentum slowly carry them to the other vessel.
Once their haul was on the other side of the tether, the crew fastened themselves to the line, pulling themselves along and towards their craft. Kell brought up the rear, unlatching the cable from the Anne-Marie and reeling himself in towards the Fox.
The crew set to work moving and securing their loot. The cargo bay door slowly shut, sealing itself as oxygen vented into the room. The equipment was pushed up against the bulkheads and secured with steel cables.
Jeremy clumsily yanked his helmet off, retaining his headset. “Jai, we’re about done here. Get us ready to jump. Set course for Tremerlre.” He left the cargo bay, heading to the ship’s elevator to see his pilot.
Up in the vessel’s bridge, Jai sighed, taking his feet down off of the command console. “And back to work.” He tapped away at the holographic display, bringing up the navigation program, and beginning the course plotting.
Though the computer was old, it had little trouble calculating the fastest route to their desired destination, a combination of navigational charts, traffic data, and superluminal LADAR sensors taking into account the various obstacles along the ship’s path.
With the course laid in, all there was left was to spin up the ship’s ancient jump drive. The power plant began funneling energy into the drive’s capacitors, preparing for the massive power draw the jump would take. While more modern vessels could jump almost instantaneously, the Fox’s systems were rather outdated, and faster-than-light jumps tended to take their toll on the poor old ship if not handled carefully.
With the drive charging, Jai leaned back again, relaxing. He was about to swing his legs back up when an alarm light blinked up at him urgently.
“Ugh, what!?” he exclaimed frustratedly. He leaned forward, examining the alert with a frown. The LADAR had detected an incoming vessel at FTL.
Another alarm sounded, this time a proximity alert. On the short range scanner, Jai saw a blip appear; a vessel, only 400,000 kilometers out. Initial scans told him that it was a frigate. The Fox was only a freighter, measuring 125 meters long, and was only armed with a pair of torpedo tubes. The frigate was nearly 8 times as massive, and had a dozen and a half anti-ship cannons, all of which were trained on the Fox.
“Oh, crap,” he breathed. The console beeped again, indicating an incoming transmission. “Oh, crap!”
He stammered into his mic. “Captain, get to the bridge, we’ve got a ta’keshi frigate hailing us.”
At the ship’s elevator, Jeremy stepped in, putting a finger to his earpiece. “So? This is ta’keshi space. What’s it doing?”
“It’s on an intercept course. They’ve got weapons trained.”
Jeremy paused. “It’s a Gashad tribe ship, right?”
Jai looked over the registry. “No, Tal’hash tribe. Why?”
Jeremy paled. “Answer them. Stall them, I’ll be up in a second.”
He tapped his foot impatiently, willing the elevator to speed up. This was bad: the ta’kesh were a very fractured and aggressive people. This space had been claimed by the Gashad tribe, with whom he had an agreement for scavenging rights. The Tal’hash were fierce rivals of the Gashad, and one of their ships showing up did not bode well.
Up on the bridge, Jai answered the call. “This is Helmsman Morrison-Bennet, of the PSS Fox, registration number 925419.”
A rough, guttural voice responded. “PSS Fox, you are intruding on Tal’hash tribal territory. Power down your engines and prepare to be boarded. Resistance will be answered with force.”
“Uh, with all due respect, we have an agreement with your tribe for scavenging rights in the area.”
Jai winced as a loud snort erupted from the other line, the cheap speaker converting the sound into a harsh blast of noise.
“I do not know of any agreements. My orders are to patrol this sector, and apprehend any trespassing vessels. You are trespassing, and I must detain you.”
Before Jai could respond, the bridge door slid open, and Jeremy walked in, all business. “Patch me in.”
Jai nodded, switching the channel over to his captain. He was glad to be done; negotiations weren’t his thing.
Jeremy spoke into his headset, addressing the ta’keshi captain in his best authoritative voice. “This is Captain Jeremy Caine of freighter PSS Fox. I am authorized under legal treaty by Chieftain Yokk-Tol of the Gashad tribe to conduct my business in this system. I recommend you stay away unless you want to get on the Gashad’s bad side.”
He waited for the inevitable angry outburst from the ta’kesh, but to his surprise, he did not receive it. Instead, he was answered with a low, rumbling laugh.
“Your threats might hold more meaning, had our chieftain not taken Yokk-Tol’s head in ritual combat. The Gashad, and all of their holdings, now belong to us.”
Jeremy stood slack jawed. His meticulously crafted agreement, which had taken weeks of bargaining and pleading to draft, was now worth as much as the lint in his pocket.
He struggled to recover. “We-well, then we’ll be leaving your territory. I’m sorry for th-”
The ta’keshi captain cut him off. “You will be permitted to leave only when you have given us the cargo you took from that ship.”
“Now, now hold on,” Jeremy stammered. “We need this car-”
“That vessel, and everything aboard it, are the property of the Tal’hash tribe. We are preparing to board. I would not resist if I were you.”
The line went dead. Jeremy stood still, eyes glazed over as he processed what had happened. Jai’s voice shook him from his thoughts.
“Captain, they’ve launched a boarding craft! It’ll be here in about a minute!” He looked up from the console, eying his captain desperately. “Orders?”
Jeremy watched the monitor track the boarding craft’s progress. “Jump now.”
Jai shook his head. “Captain, the drive is in bad enough shape, jump starting it could cause irreparable damage.”
“We can’t lose this cargo. We’re broke, we need money, and we need it now. Make the jump.”
Sucking in a breath, Jai turned back towards the console. “All hands, prepare for imminent jump.” He rerouted power to the Fox’s jump drive, noncritical systems shutting down as the engines charged.
400,000 kilometers away, the frigate’s sensors detected the power surge to the freighter’s engines. A moment later, its guns opened fire, spitting shells out at the Fox. The rounds slammed into her shields, causing the ship to rock violently.
The ta’keshi guns cycled, ejecting the spent shell casings and loading new rounds into their breeches, but it was too late; their target disappeared into a streak of light and color as it jumped past lightspeed.
Jai sat back in his chair, exhaling slowly. Jeremy sat in his own chair, wiping sweat from his brow. His hands were shaking, and his breath was unsteady. “Christ, that was close,” Jeremy breathed. The volley hadn’t breached the Fox’s shields, but the entire ship had been rocked by the impacts.
Victa’s voice came through on his earpiece. “Captain, what was that? It felt like something just hit us.” He grimaced; she would have a real tongue-lashing for him this time.
“Yeah, you could say that. Gather the crew and come up to the bridge. I’ll explain.”
Her voice grew suspicious. “Explain what, Captain?”
“Just come up here, please.” He glanced at his pilot. “How’s the ship holding up?”
Jai grunted, leaning forward. He studied the readouts in front of him, bringing up status reports on the engines. “Not well. The drive is under a lot of strain.” He pulled up a projection of their trip. “We should make it, but the damage is probably gonna be pretty bad. We’re most likely gonna have to stay put for a while while we wait for repairs.”
Jeremy frowned. With their relatively small haul, sitting idle and having to pay for repairs were going to hurt. They had already been in financial trouble, and this excursion had made it even worse.
“How long ‘til we reach Tremere?”
“About eight and a half hours, Captain. Just enough time to grab some shut-eye.”
Jeremy shook his head. “Hang on a sec, I want you here to discuss our options.”
With a roll of his eyes and a defeated sigh, Jai slumped down into his chair. “Alright,” he replied reluctantly. “Only ‘cause you’d never manage anything without me.”
Jeremy lacked the willpower to retort. Truth be told, he felt exhausted; they’d been working nonstop ever since they had found the Anne-Marie, and going to sleep felt like the best idea in the world right now. He would have preferred to wait until after he’d taken a nap, but he knew his first mate would not have it. He steeled himself for the harsh words she no doubt had in store for him.
The magtram chimed, and the door slid open. The rest of the crew trooped in, Victa at the front. They had changed out of their gear, and had put on normal clothing, revealing their alien visages: Tala was a rai, standing roughly three feet tall and loping along on all fours in a somewhat apelike gait. She had light grey skin and, like Victa, had black, pupil less eyes. Her arms were long and muscular, more so than her legs, and her knuckles touched the floor as she walked.
Kell was a sestan, a six foot lizard walking on a pair of digitigrade legs. He had an elongated snout, and his skin was comprised of forest green scales. A few odd teeth poked out from from his lips, giving him a somewhat animalistic appearance.
Victa was a koth, a creature with mottled, dark brown skin, and a variety of spines and fins sticking out at different angles. Her gait was long and striding, with her two front legs alternating steps with her rear leg, allowing her to cover much distance with each step. A pair of mandibles framed her small, lipless mouth.
Victa stalked angrily towards Jeremy, poking his chest accusingly with each word. “What did you do?”
He held up his hand defensively “Whoa, not my fault!” She bared her teeth at his words. “No,honestly!” A rival tribe took down Yokk-Tol! One of their ships showed up and told us to hand over our haul.”
A troubled look came over her face at his words, her mandibles clicking worriedly. “We should have done more research, we could have see-”
It was Jeremy’s turn to cut her off. “We did everything we needed to do. We can’t predict everything.”
Victa grunted noncommittally before moving on to a new topic. “I noticed we jump started the drive,” she said, turning to Jai. “Did it make it?”
“Barely,” he replied. “We’re redlining right now. I’m afraid to think about what it’s gonna look like when we get there.”
Victa’s face darkened. “Damn it.” She turned to Jeremy. “We will need to speak to Riley once we get back. We cannot afford any more jobs that cost more than they pay.” She fixed him with a renewed glare. “And by ‘we’, I mean you.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll have a word with him,” he responded defensively. “Don’t bite my head off about it.” He turned to address Jai. “Before you turn in, set up an alarm in case anything happens with the drive. If something goes wrong, kill the jump and help Tala figure out what’s up.”
Jai nodded reluctantly, setting a monitoring program to alert him in his room if any of the engine parameters fell too far out of line. His job done, the pilot left the bridge. Jeremy turned to address his security officer. “Now Kell, I think we need to address our defensive measures.”
The sestan shook his head. “Captain, we’ve discussed this; we need those funds for more vital things.”
“Look, if we’d been better armed, we-”
“-we would have died, sir. Nothing more. You can tack as many guns onto this bucket as you like, we’re not going to outfight a dedicated warship. Ever.”
Jeremy opened his mouth to retort, but could not come up with anything that he hadn’t already tried. He found the idea of a more heavily armed ship comforting, but was always assured by his crew that such expenditures were risky at best, and downright wasteful at worst. Grumbling, he brushed past the trio of aliens to get to the lift. “Alright, then, I guess we’re done here. Everyone get some shut-eye; I want us to be ready in case something goes wrong with the drive.”
They filed into the maglift, slightly cramped. Victa selected the crew quarters, and the lift shot backwards towards the aft of the ship. Once it had stopped, the crew went their separate ways, each entering their own room and shutting the doors behind them. Jeremy walked into his room, dragging his feet tiredly. He allowed himself to fall face first onto his bed, not even bothering to change out of the t-shirt and plain pants he was wearing. He lay there a moment, simply breathing in. The smell wasn’t particularly pleasant; his sheets were due for a wash.
Turning his head, he stared blankly at the wall. The Fox lacked a captain’s cabin, so Jeremy lived with the rest of his crew in the crew quarters. There wasn’t much: an old soccer poster adorned the wall opposite him, its edges frayed and torn. A desk was pushed up against the wall beneath it, a computer terminal resting on top. There was a safe in the corner, where he stashed a small supply of valuables. A small bedside table stood by the head of his bed, which was covered in junk that he regularly told himself he would organize later. A small wardrobe held his meager collection of clothes. All in all, not what Jeremy had pictured himself having when he had first fancied himself a starship captain. While he would love a private, lavish room to himself, he didn’t have anywhere near enough money to afford a ship nice enough to include one.
The Fox had been junk when he’d bought it twelve years ago. He would have liked to believe he’d fixed it up in his years at the ship’s helm, but really, he only just kept it running. The ship always had one failing component or another that needed to be replaced. A major overhaul would likely keep her running more smoothly in the long run, but the daunting price tag involved scared her captain away from that idea.
Closing his eyes, Jeremy willed himself to fall asleep. He knew there was a lot of work ahead, and doing it without being fully rested would be brutal. He let go of his thoughts, and fell asleep in short order.