Under Shadows. Jason LaPier
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Название: Under Shadows

Автор: Jason LaPier

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Приключения: прочее

Серия:

isbn: 9780008121853

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ information gave him pause. He could continue to hide, but it seemed foolish to hide from a civilian ship. Unless they panicked and somehow reported his presence back to ModPol. He could get on the open comm and threaten to blow them to pieces if they attempted any transmissions. Really though, what difference did it make? Once the Xarp drive was warmed up, he’d be gone.

      It was his plan all along. Well, there hadn’t been much of a plan, not really. The primary goal was to get a ship with Xarp capabilities. He’d altered the fleet manifest back before they left the Space Waste base, including the dropship on the carrier. Once the conflict started, only the raiders and fighters were deployed, leaving the lone mistaken and useless dropship in a bay, just waiting for him. Then all he had to do was to escape just before the Longhorn Xarped away. No one would miss him in the heat of the moment. After that, he would play dead. What to do next, well, there the plan got a little fuzzier. He had a handful of caches, two in the Barnard system and one in the Sirius system. A few thousand Alliance credits in hard currency. The stuff was traceable, but only if someone took the time to do it. Something he never worried about, because he had the equipment to scramble the hidden etchings inside the money, inside those slim, rectangular cards printed with algorithmic ink. It made it harder to spend – especially anywhere that wanted to keep a reputation – but not impossible.

      “Scrambling Alleys is what got you in this mess, asshole.”

      His brain told his mouth to shut up so he could think. The analyzer in his handypad wasn’t much information to go on. He needed to scan that civvy and find out what it was, maybe where it came from.

      The O2 level on his HUD dropped another percentage point. At the very least he needed to get out of the cage and turn on the air. So he did, drifting from the wall over to the panel that hung from the ceiling in the center of the room. He was going to light up on the other ship’s contact map any moment now, since he had to power on the reactor to generate oxygen and nitrogen. He tried to move quickly, but a part of him wanted to linger just to see what the civilian would do. Just to tempt fate.

      He must have been in a good mood. Maybe it was the dawning realization that he’d actually escaped those bloodthirsty bastards.

      A sing-song tone trilled throughout the bay, signaling that pressure was nominal. He removed his helmet and climbed out of the suit. Getting undressed in null gravity would have been hard enough for him, but wrestling with the bulky suit added a few more minutes to the process. Finally he got free of the thing and pulled himself over to the cabin door. Pressure inside the small cockpit was already good, so it slid open as he touched the panel.

      Floating around without a suit was somehow more nauseating. Probably because most of his body thought everything was normal, allowing the confusion in his inner ear to dominate. He closed his eyes and took a few breaths, his chest swelling, causing him to become all too aware of his increased heart rate. He opened his eyes and shook his head in a failed attempt to shed panic.

      He strapped into the chair in front of the main console. Having the screen to anchor his focus on seemed to help. He fired up a few subsystems, letting the proximity scanners and other sensors come to life. This activity would most definitely make his presence known; so be it. He charged the auto-turret but set it to remain in its locked position. This way it remained non-threatening, and anyway, if he opened it up, he’d have to lock it again before he could kick into Xarp. Having done all that, he set the Xarp drive to pre-charge.

      All this would be generating a lot of noise, signal-wise. So it was time to deal with the civilian ship. He did a full scan on it, and whistled. An OrbitBurner 4200 LX. A wasteful but sporty propulsion system for showing off, plus a Warp drive for making it to an event only fashionably late. No weapons, and a hybrid hull good for stopping rocks and radiation, but not much else. Chock full of the best AI-assisted systems, which meant it might be a crew of one, or it might include a small party of guests.

      Those caches Cazos had, how secure were they? There was no telling if they would even be there. Maybe they’d be there but they’d be bugged. His ticket to freedom could be his ticket right back to prison.

      But here was a luxury machine, just out for a cruise in the Epsilon Eridani system. A largely uninhabited system, except for a ModPol outpost and a brand-new colony, still being constructed, on EE-3. A colony with a very specific customer in mind: the richest of the richest domers.

      It was a brilliant idea, to build an out-of-the-way colony and sell residency at a premium; thus ensuring only occupants that have too much money to spend. A population of pure consumers, locked into a controlled economy. Sold on exclusivity, their stockpiles of cash could be slowly bled away from them. It was like counterfeiting, but without all the legal trouble.

      This OrbitBurner, it had to be one of those richies who’d come out to Epsilon Eridani for an early look at the new domes. And now he was out flying around the system, showing off his shiny rocket to whomever. Maybe a whole party of richies. Right there in front of him.

      They wouldn’t have much hard currency on board, no of course not. But they would have valuables. Cazos wished he could take the OrbitBurner itself, but without Xarp, he’d be stuck in this mostly-empty system. He could strip it though. There was a fair amount of room in his dropship’s bay. He knew how to pick apart the processing systems – all that AI would be worth a good trade somewhere. And there were bound to be other luxuries onboard. Food, clothes, personal electronics. Alcohol. Well-aged, expensive shit.

      He just needed to find out how many people were on it. He would have to board. And there were a few guns in the back, so he’d be well armed. The question would just be a matter of whether he could restrain them. He didn’t want to have to kill anyone, but the sheer amount of death he’d witnessed a few days prior out-scaled anything he could have ever imagined. When he stepped back and thought about it, what was the death of a few rich assholes out flaunting their luxury spaceship?

      “No,” he said. He wouldn’t let his encounter with Space Waste corrupt him. Well, he was already pretty goddamn corrupt. But it wouldn’t make him a killer. He’d just go aboard, flash his guns, and make them tie each other up. If they gave him a problem, he could always retreat to the dropship and threaten them with the auto-turret.

      Cazos pointed the comm laser at the OrbitBurner and hailed her with an SOS. Just text, no voice or video.

      *

      Ten minutes later, he floated around the bay, trying to decide on a gun. He was torn between practicality – the smaller weapons, like the shock-pistol – and menace – the larger weapons, like the pulse machinegun. He also debated briefly on whether or not he should don the spacesuit, but decided it wasn’t necessary. The message he’d received back from the civvy was a friendly invite, and they’d set up a ship-to-ship dock plan that would mean no need to spacewalk.

      Cazos went for the big gun, the pulse machinegun. If he had to fire it in zero-G, he’d probably lose control. But he didn’t want to fire it, he just wanted to do a little terrifying. He strapped it over his shoulder and extended it in front of him, holding it with one hand so he could hop from handhold to handhold with the other. The zero-G was a good thing, he realized: he’d never be able to lift this gun one-handed if there were any gravity. He grabbed a shiny space blanket out of a cabinet and wrapped it around the barrel.

      He slapped the controls at the door and slid open the inner airlock. He made a move forward, then caught himself, pulling back to the controls. As a final precaution, he decided to force the inner door to stay open. If something went down, he needed to know he could get back to his boat.

      Normally this meant he wouldn’t be able to open the outer door, but since they had established a seal between the two ships, it wouldn’t be СКАЧАТЬ