Saraya’s moon, Standard Year 404 after founding

  James watched with trepidation as Clara headed out of the bathroom and presumably towards the bar, where she was set to meet the Sarayan cop. She was followed discreetly by Tom and Stacy. With a slight shake of his head, he turned to Henry. “Time to go.” He said shortly. “I’ll take the trunk.”

  The two men remained silent as they walked down the crowded hallway. They knew what they had to do, and neither was in the mood for small talk. James had taken the trunk in part to test his aching arm and so far, the muscles were continuing to function. Henry followed him, watching his back. The arm burned where the frostbite had taken hold, but not as much as it should have. Which meant that the feeling wasn’t coming back to the skin. The skin was permanently dead. If left untreated, in time it would turn black and come off entirely. But that wouldn’t happen today, and he was hoping to be back on the Black Hawk by the time it became an issue. For now, the muscles were working. That was enough.

  He had memorized the layout of the station, but looking at a map couldn’t replace the real thing. He looked around carefully, trying to understand the ebb and flow of humanity as they moved down the narrow, cramped hallways teeming with people. As far as he could see, everyone here was a civilian. The civilian wing of the station was their third target. James had already decided they wouldn’t bother targeting life support or any other vital machinery. The radius of the nuclear bomb would be big enough to hit the vitals, even without them going near the more highly guarded areas. Within those parameters, he expected the third target to be easier than the fourth. The fourth target was the officer’s wing of the station, where access was more restricted.

  Looking around, he was forced to reassess. His initial plan had been to find an out of the way location to offload one of the nukes, but he was beginning to realize that there wasn’t going to be an out of the way location. The problem was that everything was crowded. Every spare nook and cranny of the station was packed with people, many of whom knew the station better than he did. If there was an out of the way, quiet location, someone would damn well be using it. Ironically, in this regard the Tundran’s cover fire was working against them. As the number of damaged ships increased, so did the number of repair crew called into the station. He moved aside as a rowdy group walked past them, two of the six nearly tripping over their trunk.

  “Sorry about that.” A tired looking but surprisingly cheerful woman said with a laugh, as her partner caught her by the waist before she could fall over. “There just isn’t enough space.”

  James watched the group as they went on past, their drunken chatter momentarily overwhelming the background noise of the crowds.

  “Fireworks?” Henry asked softly behind him.

  James shook his head. Tom had doubled down on the fireworks at the point of entry, they had nothing in the immediate vicinity. And he was hesitant to use up what they had. The point of entry was also, hopefully, their future exit. They may yet need that distraction. There was really no way to… he paused, a slow smile spreading across his face. “It’s too crowded.” James said.

  “Yeah, no shit.” Henry muttered. He paused, surprised by the smile.

  “Too crowded.” James repeated cheerfully while a broad-shouldered man kicked their trunk in annoyance as he walked by. “Mission abort.”

  Henry paused, processing the unfamiliar words.

  “Time to visit the officers’ wing.” James said softly. “Let’s drop the trunk off in a storage locker and go for a stroll.” James put on speed as he spoke, pushing past the crowd and ignoring the looks and words of annoyance thrown their way. In retrospect, the damn trunk was far too large and noticeable for this mission.

  Both men breathed a deep sigh of relief when they got rid of the trunk. In their Standard Sarayan clothing, they now blended in with the crowd effortlessly.

  “One month max on the storage lockers.” Henry said with some regret. “Not long enough, is it?”

  “Probably not.”

  “It’s never that easy.” Henry agreed. “Where to?”

  “I heard there’s a bar on twelfth.” James suggested.

  Ten minutes later, they were sitting at an overcrowded table, sipping the disgusting Sarayan water and eating mediocre ration bars. James forced himself to look away from the table where Clara and the cop appeared to be in deep conversation. The cop’s hand was inching its way up her arm. He was about to pretend to look in another direction when Clara’s eyes caught his across the room. She gave the slightest shake of her head before turning back to the cop and saying something. James watched glumly as the two of them got up and walked out, arm in arm.

  “Well?” Henry said, taking another sip of the water, tainted by the taste of allegedly disinfecting filtration.

  There was no way for them to follow her without drawing attention to themselves. And in the end, he had to trust Clara to handle herself. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the mission clock continued to tick. Time was short. They needed to finish and get out. And out on far off Tundra, Alanna was waiting. A POW in a prison cell, with only Dev’s dubious skills to protect her.

  “Let’s go see how the other half lives.” James said.

  He oriented based on the station layout he memorized earlier, but there was no information on how to actually access the officer’s wing. They needed to scout ahead before coming in with an oversized trunk filled with nuclear warheads. Strolling in the right general direction, James noted with some relief that the crowds were clearing out. At the boundary between the two wings of the station, the hallways were finally getting less crowded. There were proportionally less women here than what he was accustomed to seeing elsewhere on the station. Soldiers in Sarayan navy green could now be seen, interspersed with the civilians. And here and there, interspersed with the regular enlisted and the more confident marines who walked as if they owned the halls, were a few officers, their golden officer’s stripes glinting off collars and sleeves. They continued on as the portion of civilian to military personnel continued to decrease, until James noted the odd looks they were receiving from some of the marines.

  “You lost?” One of the more heavily built men asked him bluntly.

  “You should head back.” The large man’s smaller friend said, her eyes not unkind. “You meet the wrong person out here, you may not come back.”

  With a nod James hoped was appropriately respectful, they turned around and headed back at a fast clip. They were headed back the way they came, breathing a quiet sigh of relief as the sight of others in civilian clothing became more common. The comforting sound of regular shoes rather than the hard thud of Sarayan steel toed military boots echoed in the hallways. James paused suddenly, his instincts on alert. They were in some of the last of the wider hallways, signaling the transition between the military and civilian wings of the station, and it had suddenly grown eerily quiet. The background chatter of voices was replaced by the distinct sound of several men talking and laughing.

  “Help!” A woman’s scream echoed across the hallway. “Someone please help me!”

  Henry leaned towards him, his voice pitched for James’s ears alone. “Based on how everyone’s cleared out, I’m guessing no one will. Should we wait them out?”

  “Might take a while.” James said, equally softly. And they were short on time. Everyone on the station would remain inside as the radiation of the Sarayan sun beat down overhead. But darkness would descend in just a few more hours, and workers were expected to head out. If they wanted to head out with the crowd, sunset would be the best time. And after all, the lady did ask for assistance. “Let’s see how many.” James said softly.

  There was no real cover as they moved down the hallway. If noticed, their best chance was to simply pretend they were trying to avoid any trouble while heading back to the civilian side of the station. Nevertheless, they hugged the wall on one side, on the off chance it kept them from being noticed as they approached. As they got nearer, James realized the sound was coming from an alcove to the side of the hallway. Perhaps it had been occupied by some machinery at one point but now it provided the perfect trap for the unwary. There were two of them, both in Sarayan marine uniforms. Based on the size of the alcove, the two men’s backs formed an impenetrable wall, making it impossible for anyone inside the alcove to escape.

  James sent the signal to attack but Henry was already moving. Coming from behind, they attacked simultaneously, putting both marines into a chokehold.

  Unfortunately, while the two men were drunk, they were not entirely untrained. James winced as his opponent slammed him full force against the corner of the alcove, ramming it against his spine. Henry’s opponent managed to get his gun out of the holster, raising it up to fire backwards. Assuming the gun was set to stun, he may decide to take the chance and hit himself and his opponent, knowing his friends would be along to take care of the problem after they both passed out.

  “Get the gun!” James shouted, doing his best to turn his head towards the woman and make her understand, as the marine slammed him into another wall. His left arm was going dangerously numb, as the damage from the frostbite was making itself felt at the worst possible time. With grim determination, he hung on.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Terrified, the young woman, more of a girl really, ran towards James and his opponent, trying to unlatch the marine’s holster. The other gun, James thought in exasperation. But you took your allies as you found them, and this wasn’t the time to confuse her further. He held on tighter and squeezed.

  Sensing the danger, Henry let go and attacked his opponent from the front. Instinctively, the marine used his gun to block the punch, rather than using it to shoot them both.

  The girl had finally managed to get the gun out of its holster and was trying to hold it up with her trembling hands, the barrel pointing somewhere between her feet and the marine James was trying to choke out.

  “Don’t shoot!” James shouted in exasperation. If she shot them both now, the overflow from the stunner would hit hard enough to slow him down, or take him out entirely.

  For an instant the girl looked utterly confused but then, to her credit, she moved in and hit James’s opponent in the face with the gun. Hard. The man finally went down. Grabbing the gun from the girl’s nervous fingers, James turned on the other marine. Reading his mind as he always did, Henry jumped out of the way, leaving James with a clear shot. James shot his own passed out opponent for good measure, making sure he wouldn’t start coming around at an inopportune time.

  “Strip them.” James said without pause, moving to do so.

  Eyes wild, the girl seemed like she was about to help. “No.” James stopped her firmly. “I’m not going to hurt you but I need your underwear and your jacket. Now. Step back into the alcove if you want privacy.” He added as an afterthought.

  “Keep screaming for help.” Henry suggested with a slight smile. “It did a great job scaring everyone off last time.”

  “Are… are you serious?”

  “He is.” James nodded. He observed with some satisfaction that his opponent had a large tattoo on his arm, a rising sun overlayed by the image of a spaceship. A classic symbol of the Sarayan navy. Perfect.

  The girl screamed. Henry shrugged. She went for the wrong gun but all in all she was cooperating. It could have been worse. He noted he was faster than James at stripping his opponent. James was trying to hide it, but his left arm was bothering him more than he let on. Without saying anything on the subject, Henry took the jacket and underwear from the girl. Given her small frame, the jacket was unfortunately small, but it would have to do. He did his best to bundle the distinctive Sarayan green uniforms under the small jacket. Guns and weapons went into the oversized pockets of their cargo pants, hopefully not too blatantly noticeable. They had initially chosen to forego weapons in case they were stopped and searched, but with Sarayan marine uniforms in hand, their calculus changed drastically.

  With a slight wince, James took out the knife one of the marines had in an ankle holster and sliced the palm of his hand. Smearing blood on the hands and crotches of the two now naked marines, he tossed the young girl’s underwear on the floor. It wasn’t subtle or even particularly realistic, and a simple DNA test would show the blood belonged to a man. But it didn’t need to be. On a crowded station with tensions running high, this was just the tableau they needed to rile up the civilian population.

  “Move out.” He nodded to Henry. James sighed as the girl, somewhat predictably, followed them.

  “Thank you.” She said quietly. “I don’t know why you did what you did, but thank you. If there’s anything I can do…”

  “Get off the station.” James said shortly. “Tonight, if you can. Don’t wait. Your DNA will be found on the scene. If you have a record…”

  “I don’t!”

  “You should still get off the station.” James lowered his voice as he saw others walking past. In the distance behind them, he heard shouts of outrage as the two marines were found. The scene of the crime, perfectly staged. He smiled, and walked on.

  ---

  On a crowded space station, rumors spread like wildfire. By the time they returned, it seemed to have reached everyone. James tried to hide his grin as he listened in on stray bits of conversation, walking down the narrow hallways on their way back to their sleeping pods.

  “But where’s the girl?”

  “Probably dead. I heard there was blood everywhere!”

  “How do you know they were marines?”

  “Have you seen marines? Believe me, you’d know.”

  “If the girl is dead, who took out the…”

  “Maybe she fought back.”

  “Maybe her boyfriend found them.”

  “Maybe best not to ask too many questions!”

  When they returned to their bunks, Tom was waiting for them. His sharp eyes took them both in, from the stiff way James was moving to the bundle of clothes Henry was carrying, Sarayan navy green peeking out from under the small tan woman’s jacket.

  “How’s the girl?” He asked, his voice pitched low.

  “Alive.” James said with a grin, surreptitiously holding out his still bleeding hand. He had taken anti clotting medication, knowing blood clots were a common side effect of severe frostbite. It would take some time for the bleeding to stop.

  Tom threw his head back and laughed. “What’s next?” He asked.

  James turned to Henry. “We get the trunk and go back.”

  Henry put a hand on his arm, holding James back. “We need Clara.” He said.

  “She’s not back yet. Maybe I can help?” Tom offered.

  Both James and Henry shook their heads.

  “I think we should wait for Clara.” Henry said.

  James hesitated. “Everyone heads out at sunset.” He said softly. “If we’re late, we miss the crowd.”

  “We need Clara.” Henry repeated.

  “We’ll wait an hour. No more.” James said, tension evident in his voice. “And we get the trunk now. It’ll fit on Clara’s bed.”

  Henry nodded, accepting the inevitable. They went to get the trunk. Two more nuclear warheads in their possession. In a noticeably oversized trunk that attracted notice wherever they went. God damn but he hated this mission.

  They came back with the trunk just in time to see Clara headed towards them. She looked normal enough, other than her eyes, which were a bit too wide and a bit too wild.

  “Shower.” Clara said before either of them could get a word out. She walked past them and straight into the bathing facilities.

  James opened his mouth and once again shut it, unsure of what to say. Henry shrugged. It wasn’t as if they could follow Clara. The hallway lined with sleeping pods was getting quieter now and the lights had been lowered. Most of the people in the area were working on ship repairs. They came in with the sunrise and went back out as the sun set. It was getting to the middle of the sleep cycle now, when both the early risers and the late owls were fast asleep. The two men had just settled on adjacent bunks to wait, when a scream pierced the muted sounds around them.

  James was up before he realized what he was doing. It was Clara. Once again, Henry’s hand was on his shoulder.

  “Clara can handle anyone in there.” Henry said quietly. Besides, he strongly suspected it wasn’t an attack that triggered the scream.

  A few minutes later, Clara walked out of the showers. A woman whose sleeping pod was right next to the bathing facilities looked at her sleepily. Without saying a word, she handed Clara a filtered water bottle. After only a brief hesitation, Clara drank from it. With a nod of gratitude she walked past, towards James and Henry.

  “Are you…” James began.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. What’s next?”

  James shook his head slightly, motioning for Clara to get into the sleeping pod where he was sitting with Henry. Up until then, they had left the pod unsealed, relying on their low voices to keep others from overhearing. But this was going to be a lengthier conversation.

  Gritting her teeth, Clara got in and pulled up her legs, letting James close the seal that would provide them with greater privacy. “This isn’t doing anything for my reputation.” She noted with a snort.

  “There isn’t any water in the showers.” James pointed out. “It’s an exfoliation based dry shower.”

  “James.” Clara took a very deep breath. “If you and I survive this, I will very likely kill you.”

  James paused. “Fair enough.”

  “What now?” Clara asked.

  “We need to get to the officers wing.” James shifted in the murky light, letting Clara see the green cloth of a Sarayan marine uniform.

  “You got one?” Clara asked softly.

  “Two. Should be about the right fit for us.” James nodded.

  Clara crossed her arms. “And me? I’m guessing it’s not the right fit for me.”

  “We need you to be the bait.” Henry spoke up, saying what he knew James would not want to say.

  “Fine.” Clara said shortly. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  “Not yet.” James held out a hand. “I want to think this through before we go in. First question, how do we get past the security checkpoint? And with a giant ridiculously oversized trunk, no less.”

  “We put Clara in the trunk.” Henry said immediately. “Special delivery for… whoever. Let’s say Captain Shaw.”

  James shook his head. “Best not to specify, she might not be his type.”

  Clara crossed her arms. “Really? How much in the mood for this do you think I am?”

  “Clara you are a goddess among women. But tastes…”

  “We don’t specify unless we need to.” Henry interrupted. “Moving on.”

  “Special delivery may get us past as no one wants to ask any questions. Or it may have the opposite effect.” James pointed out.

  “Then we shoot our way out.” Henry shrugged. “Unless someone has a better idea?”

  James rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t love the plan. “Let’s come back to it. Assume we get past security. We’re inside, walking around with the damn trunk. Even assuming we managed not to set off any alarms at that point, it’s not likely we’ll have the opportunity to start drilling holes or opening up walls.”

  “How carefully did you pick out your targets?” Clara asked.

  “What?”

  “For the uniforms.” She nodded toward the green clothing. “How well are they going to fit? And the shoes?”

  James winced. “Probably not perfectly.” He admitted. “It was more of a spur of the moment kind of operation.”

  “So you’re walking around in ill fitting uniforms.” Clara said pointedly.

  “We’ll need to use the fireworks.” James said with reluctance. They didn’t ask Tom to go inside the restricted area, but he had succeeded in placing the fireworks nearby. Close enough that the alarms should spread to the secured wing. Security checkpoints weren’t a barrier against fires. All alarms in the vicinity would go off.

  Henry and Clara nodded. None of them mentioned the obvious. If they used the fireworks on their way in, they had nothing to use on the way out.

  “Even then, it won’t be enough of a distraction for us to drill holes without anyone noticing.” Clara pointed out.

  James nodded. The only thing they’d have time for would be to drop the trunk in an out of the way place and head back out. He paused. “The workers wing lockers are only good for a month.” He said thoughtfully.

  Henry sat up. “You think the officers wing offers longer term storage?”

  “Reasonable assumption.” Clara said, perking up.

  “We go with that.” James said decisively. “I’m going to talk to Tom and then we head out.”

  Unsealing the sleeping pod and ignoring the curious look of a man across the hall, who was unexpectedly awake, James climbed out and went to join Tom, who had left his bunk unsealed as he waited for them. Sealing the space, he turned to Tom, who looked back, calm and patient as an iceberg in the Tundran winter. Once again, James tipped his hat to Alanna’s chosen second in command. “We’re going back in.” He said softly. “I’d like to leave the equipment in storage, there isn’t time to do much else. We should be back within a few hours. If we don’t return, you should leave the station. I’m sending you the location of our shuttle now, in case you decide you need to go. I’m also sending you the location of the diamonds. You can pick them up on your way. Everything is pre-programmed, the shuttle should get you out. It’s up to you whether to go to Tundra or to head back to Saraya, but you know what I would recommend.”

  Tom nodded, his face shadowed and unreadable in the dim light of the small sleeping pod. “And if you do get back?” He asked.

  “If you want to go to Tundra, walk out with us. If you want to go back to Saraya, leave alone. You should still leave the station as soon as you can. They’re more likely to investigate and question the people who are here. You can even leave now if you want. You have what we promised, and you’ve provided all that we’ve asked. We’re good.”

  Tom rubbed the back of his neck. “And I can’t help? You’re definitely going in alone?”

  “We’re going in alone.” James said firmly.

  Tom nodded, with obvious reluctance. “Then go. I’ll wait. Good luck to you.”