The Pacienco Incident

Haden Knox, bosun’s mate aboard the Canyon Independent Freightliner Pacienco, jabbed at the ration of mystery-meat on his tray and sawed off a corner while reviewing the watch report on his tablet. A heated discussion a table overacross another table echoed in the confines of the crew mess. Popping the chunk of flavored protein into his mouth, the jackal chewed and looked up at the wolf sitting across from him, inclining his head toward the group. Chief Randy Carter, the ship’s bosun, affectionately known to the crew as The Old Wolf, rolled his eyes up and shook his head, chewing his own supper. Neither of them took much interest in the politics, and the antics surrounding the discussion carried little weight so long as they didn’t get out of hand.
“C’mon, Mesa’s independence works for the greater good of the galaxy,” said the wiry marten named Rogers, leaning over the table and poking at the two seated across from him with his fork. “Independence means no corp’s got a stranglehold on transit services,” Rogers went on. “Then routes ‘tween Perseus and Sagittarius open up for everybody.”
Elbert, the stocky mule seated beside him, rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Mesa going independent means no corporate sponsorship. That means nobody will be developing transit or hub services. That means everybody will still be operating out of Canyon. Which means–”
“Yeah. The corporate sympathizer speaks up.” Rogers interrupted him. “Which you rootin’ for the opressor or the repressor?”
“It’s an Altantek colony now. They treat their people better than Haasbroek ever did.”
A tiger from the Engineering departmentcrew had been sitting at the end of the table, silent, but growing more and more agitated as the discussion progressed. He stood, lashing his tail and tossing his tray in the reclamation chute and stalking out, growling something Haden couldn’t quite catch. Now he slammed a fist down on the table, rattling the cups and trays sitting on it. “Altantek has never been better to anybody than Haasbroek.” He stood halfway, leaning over the table and whipping his tail; the others reflexively leaned away from him. “None of the corporations give a flying fuck about any of us. That’s why we forced independence on Canyon. That’s why they’re doing it on Mesa.”
“Hey, hey. Relax, Marks,” Elbert–the mule–called after himsaid more quietly. “We’re just having a friendly discussion… it’s not that serious.”
The tiger growled and laid his ears back, pushing his tray away. “Maybe you don’t think it is. Maybe you don’t think enough. For some of us, though, it’s been a matter of life and death growing up.” He slid off the bench and stood, picking up his tray and tossing it in the reclamation bin, still scowling on his way out. He paused at the door, turning back to the room. “Before you go deciding what’s best for other people’s lives, maybe you oughtta walk in their footsteps long enough to realize it ain’t a joke for your entertainment.” He turned and stalked out.
Rogers shook his head while the others murmured amongst themselves again. “Man, I kinda hope he gets off at Roper,” he said, referring to the ship’s next port of call. “Hackles up too much.”
“Nobody scheduled to drop at Roper,” Chief Carter said, startling at least a couple in the room. The wolf knew how to project his voice. “Maybe he’s just tired of arguments over the same old corporate shenanigans the rest of us are hearing you work over and over. And over.”
“Hey, when’d you get here, Chief?” Rogers feigned surprise. “You sneak up on a body.”
Elbert snorted. “He’s been here the whole time. You just wasn’t payin’ attention.”
Carter picked up his tray and stood as well. “You swabs finish your dinner. Watch starts in fifteen. And don’t antagonize the kitty too much, eh? He stomps much harder he’ll dent my deck. I don’t want ‘im crankier than he already is.”
Haden followed suit, dropping his tray for reclamation and following the wolf out into the passageway. He didn’t say anything to the others as he left; truth be told, he didn’t much care for socializing with them beyond what his duties required–and barely that. Among the entire crew, Chief Carter was the only one he really cared for. He looked up to the wolf. And the Captain, but he never saw her much. Maybe the Chief Mate, too, if he wasn’t so… creepy. But Carter he knew, and he respected the wolf.
Carter glanced over his shoulder at the jackal. “Starting your rounds on the bridge today?”
Haden shook his head. “Passenger section,” he said quietly, tucking his tablet into the cargo pocket on his coveralls. “Most of ’em will be turning in soon. Figure I’ll show my muzzle and collect complaints before they do.”
Carter chortled, showing his teeth and angling his ears back. “Always plenty of those, that’s a fact–”
He broke off, ears pinning and pinned his ears forward at the sound of shouting echoing through the passageway. Haden perked up, as well. There was a feline yowl from somewhere ahead, and shouted cursing. Both of them broke into a run toward the sound, the altercation growing in intensity and getting louder as they approached. They rounded the corner, and Haden skidded to a stop, flattening his ears while he surveyed the scene. “What the hell–”
Three bodies were struggling close together, one–Marks, the tiger–grappling another, claws out, while the third, a rabbit from the deck department, stood in front of them, one hand out to tentatively block escape should the tiger lose his hold.
The third figure, a cat with black fur and large ears, Haden had never seen before. He stopped struggling against Marks when he saw Haden and Carter skid into view, then slumped, panting.
“Who the hell are you?” Carter demanded. He looked at Haden. “He on the pax manifest and I just missed seeing him ’til now?”
Haden stepped forward, sniffing at the cat reflexively and shaking his head. “No. Definitely not.” He slipped his tablet back out and pulled up the bridge voice channel.
“Captain, this is Knox. We have a security problem on C-deck.”
#
Captain Wright was a small fox withhad an intimidating presence, despite being a little below average in height. The fox had a quiet but looming demeanor, and when she spoke, she had a way of commanding attention.
She regarded the melanistic serval in Marks’s hold silently for several moments, and the cat watched her nervously, his tail switching back and forth. Nobody spoke for a long moment. Haden expected the serval to start talking, to break the silence and offer some explanation or plea, but the slender feline seemed in possession of remarkable resolve.
At length, the captain looked up at Marks. “Let him go,” she said. Marks growled, but reluctantly loosened his grip, giving the smaller feline a shake and a shove forward, as if reminding him the tiger was still there and still twice his size. The serval staggered forward a step, but made no other move, glancing around the gathered crew with his shoulders slouched and his head half-down.
Wright regarded him a moment longer. “What’s your name?”
The serval lashed his tail twice before answering. “Smith. Revan.”
“You’re not on my crew or the passenger manifest, Mr. Revan. How did you come to be aboard my ship?”
“Smith,” the cat reiterated. His tone subsidedwas subsiding into sullenness, matching his posture. “Revan’s my first name.”
“Very well, Mr. Smith. How did you come to be aboard my ship?”
The serval shrugged, raising a hand to tug his shirt back up on one side, where the Marks’s hold had stretched it out.
Wright considered him for a moment longer in silence. “Very well, if you won’t tell me how, perhaps you’ll tell me why?”
The cat shrugged again, and one of the captain’s ears twitched ever so slightly, her only hintthe only sign she gave to hint at annoyance.
She waited a moment longer, then nodded once. “I see. I can only conclude that we must treat you as a security risk, for our safety and yours, until you decide to be more forthcoming.” She turned to face Haden and Carter. Marks took hold of the serval by the shoulders again.
“Chief, I’m remanding our new guest to your custody. Please find him a suitable space for his confinement. Crewman Marks, let him go. Chief Carter and crewman Knox will escort him to his accommodations.” She waited for Marks to release the prisoner again, ignoring the tiger’s low growl. “Everyone else, return to your stations. This ship doesn’t run itself.” She straightened her uniform shirt and turned to stride back up the, striding back down the passageway to the bridge, while the othersother gathered crewmembers dispersed.
Carter took hold of the serval’s arm–not nearly as roughly as Marks had–but the cat flinched all the same, looking at him warily. “Looks like you get a bunkmate after all, Knox,” the wolf said. Haden made a face and started to protest, but Carter cut him off. “Can’t put him in with the pax or the officers, and you’re the only one in the junior crew with an emptyDeck Department that has a free bunk. We’re not stuffing him in a locker.” He looked down at the serval. “Mr. Smith, you’ll be bunking with Crewman Knox until we reach our next port, where I expect you’ll be transferred to security holding and charged with stowing away. Until then, consider yourself under confinement to quarters.quarters confinement.”
The serval scowled, laying his ears back, but offered no resistance as they led him to Haden’s cabin.
#
Haden swiped his access card against the lock to his cabin door and tapped in his code, pushing the door open when it unlatched.
He was immediately nonplussed upon stepping into the cabin, finding the serval stretched out on the lower bunk. “Smith,” he growled. “That one’s mine. I told you, you get the top.”
The dark cat looked up at him, then slid his legs off the bed and sat up. “You weren’t here.”
Haden scowled. “That’s beside the point. You don’t lay on another man’s bunk.” Of course, if he hadn’t stowed away in the first place… which is kind of the same thing.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize it was that important.”
Haden shut the door and swiped the card again, standing so his guest couldn’t see the code he entered to lock it from the inside. Normally, he’d just latch it, but his “guest” called for greater security.
He turned back to the serval, who was standing now and smoothing the blankets back out. “It’s important,” said the jackal. “It’s where I sleep. Mine.” He flicked his ear back and dropped his tablet and keycard on the little desktop in the cubby between the cabin’s two lockers., He leaned leaning back against it and crosseding his arms.
The serval nodded but didn’t say anything further. Instead, he turned, looking up at the top bunk. He grabbed the edge and stepped up on the frame of the lower bunk so he could see up over the edge, then dropped lightly back down to the floor on his feet. He looked over at Haden. “There’s no ladder.”
That made the Haden smirk. “No, there’s not.”
Revan scowled, laying his ears back and lashing his tail twice. He climbed back up on the edge of the lower bunk’s frame, then swung himself up and onto the top bunk. Haden watched, one ear swiveling forward a notch; the feline performed the maneuver better than Haden would have expected from a novice spacefarer. many experienced spacefarers Haden had seen. A fluid motion, classical feline grace. Slender or not, the cat was clearly strong and–
Haden snorted, shaking shook his head, annoyed with the direction his thoughts were taking. He turned to open his locker, ignoring the look Revan gave him.
“Did I do it wrong or something?” He feline’s tone hinted at sarcasm.
Haden shook his head, taking a bottle of bourbon from a drawer in his locker and a plastic drinking glass from a storage rack, closing them back up, but leaving the locker open for the moment. “No,” he said, setting the glass down on the desk and uncorking the bottle. “It was fine. I’m just thinking about something.” He sloshed two fingers of amber liquor into the glass and stoppered the bottle back up, exchanging the tumbler for the bottle in his hand. He took a sip–a long one–as he turned back around.
He made to move to his bunk and sit, but stopped when he realized that Revan was staring at him. Or rather, at the glass in his hand, he realized, when the feline’s eyes shifted to meet his own. “What?” He swirled the bourbon in the glass.
He considered: maybe it would be better if he shared. If his “guest” was inebriated, he might be easier to keep track of–he No no no. He shook his head. No, definitely not. Getting the stowaway drunk was not a legitimate prisoner-management strategy. Still… He sighed. It wouldn’t hurt to be polite if he was going to be rooming with the cat.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked, keeping most of the grudge out of his voice.
Revan shook his head. “No,. t Thanks. I’m fine.”
Haden shrugged his shoulders and crossed the cabin, sitting on his bunk and leaning back. “Suit yourself,” he muttered, clicking on the reading light attached to the underside of the upper bunk. He lifted his pillow, retrieving the paperback he had tucked under it and finding his place.
It was quiet for a moment, just long enough for the jackal to get back into the story, then the serval slid off the top, landing as lightly as beforeon his feet. He stood, looking down at Haden with a steady, inscrutable gaze.
Haden looked up, flicking his ear back again. “What?” This time, the exasperation he felt crept into his voice.
Revan shrugged, leaning against the bunk’s frame. “Nothing. Just thought you might want to talk.” He paused, tail tip curling left and right behind his ankles. “I haven’t talked to anyone in over a week.”
Haden took another sip of his bourbon and unlatched a small fold-out tray on the wall, setting the glass on it. “Your fault for stowing away, isn’t it?”
The serval narrowed his eyes and didn’t reply for a moment, long enough for Haden to find his place and begin reading again. Then, “Don’t you even want to know why?” he asked.
Haden sighed and laid the book down on his lap, looking up. “Why?” he asked, letting all the irritation show. “Why did you decide to stow away on my ship and burden me with your presence on what was supposed to be a nice quiet voyage with a cabin to myself for once? Hmm?”
Revan looked away, turning his ears back and crossing his arms. Haden started to ask again, but the serval cut him off. “To get home.”
Haden blinked, though he was unsure why the answer surprised him. “You mean… you’re not from Canyon?”
Revan shook his head. “No. I’m from was born on Mesa. I was taken to Canyon over a month ago, and now I am going home.”
Haden squinted up at the cat, his curiosity deepening at the feline’s phrasing, especially, he realized, in the context of the recent unrest at Mesa, following Canyon’s lead toward independence. “Why were you ‘taken’ to Canyon?”
Revan didn’t answer for several seconds. When he did, he mumbled. “Personal reasons.”
Haden sat up, taking another sip of his bourbon. “Personal reasons? You said you were taken there. Doesn’t that imply ‘against you will.’?”
“I wantedwished to go,” Revan replied, glancing back as he spoke. “The time wasn’t my choice.”
Haden swirled the bourbon in his glass, taking that in, then lifted it and drained it in a gulp, grimacing after. He set the book aside and climbedslid off the bunk to refill. Turning toand leaning against the table again, he regarded the serval thoughtfully. What reason could someone have to take the feline to Canyon, from Mesa, no less, and why would he have to stow away, sneaking back to Mesa–where a battle was brewing, anyway?. “Hmm. Legal troubles, perhaps?”
Revan shook his head, but it seemed more out of agitation than reply. “It’s not important.”
“Hey, why so reluctant? You’re the one that wanted to talk. Seems pretty silly to clam up on the very question that you wanted me to ask.”
“I wanted to talk,” said Revan. “Not about that.; I just assumed you would ask.”
“Huh. Well then, fine.” Haden raised the glass to his lips again, andthen slipped a hand into his pocket. “Hm… So, do you have any family back on Mesa?” He watched the serval, finding himself increasingly curious now, especially with the way the feline seemed almost to be sulking. “Or on Canyon?”
Revan blinked at the addition to the question, and Haden quirked a brow. “Not anymore,” the feline murmured. “They’re all… gone.” It seemed as though he was going to leave it at that, but he added softly, just before Haden spoke again, “My wife was the last.”
Haden felt a twinge of disappointment at the mention of the serval’s wife–and then a flush of annoyance at himself. He wasn’t interested in the cat’s company in the first place. Though, he had to admit, the serval did cut an attractive figure as he slouched against the bunk frame, his body lithely curved and tense, like a coiled spring, even as he sulked.
“What happened to her?” he asked, as much to cut off that train of thought as wanting to know.
Revan didn’t answer immediately, and when he did, his words werehis speech was clipped. “She was arrested. She made it clear, before that, that she didn’t want to see me again.” He paused. “She blames me.”
Haden raised his brow again. “Arrested? What for?What was she arrested for?”
Revan scowled and pushed himself off the bunk, taking a couple of steps and lashing his tail. He stopped, folding his ears back, realizing there wasn’t really enough room in the cabin to pace. He turned and stepped back over to the bunk, turned around again, and stood there for a moment, shoulders hunched, fingers flexing at his side. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
Haden nodded, then shrugged. “All right. Maybe when you get back to Mesa, the two of you can work it out. Reconcile.”
Revan shook his head, folding his ears back again. “She was arrested on Canyon. I saw her there, a week before we left. Maybe ten days. She was… very clear adamant that we are through, and that she doesn’t want to see me again.” He stole another glance up at Haden again, still agitated, but he looked thoughtful, too. “I was supposed to testify against her,” he added slowly.
Haden consideredprocessed that, taking another, longer pull of the bourbon and grimacing again. “I see. So, that’s why you were taken to Canyon? And you wanted to go to see her, see if you could work things out? And then stowed away aboard to get back to Mesa and avoid testifying?”
Revan closed his eyes and sighed, slumping back against the bunk’s frame again and nodding once. He sank down onto the lower bunk again, sitting heavily, and propped his muzzle on his hands, elbows on his knees.
Despite himself, Haden felt a pang of pity for the cat. He didn’t bother chiding him for sitting on the wrong bunk again. He knew all too well that losing family while they’re still alive, especially a chosen family member, was its own kind of pain no matter what the reason. And it looked and sounded like the serval blamedRevan was probably blaming himself.
He turned back to the open locker to retrieve another glass. He filled both with bourbon and held it out to the catthen stepped toward the cat, holding it out. “Here, it sounds like you need a drink.”
Revan looked up, then at the offered glass, turning an ear uncertainlyflicking an ear back before taking it. Haden held his up too. “Cheers.” Revan hesitated, then tapped the rims together and threw the drink back all at once, clenching his jaw and layingangling his ears back. Good, thought Haden,. Ffocusing on the burn might do you some good. He turned to grab the bottle and pulled the stopper, splashingtipping another two fingers of bourbon into the serval’s glass. “Here, have another.” Then hHe settled onto the other end of the bunk, pulling one foot up onto the mattress, leaving the other on the floor. “Aren’t you worried that they’ll just send you back to Canyon when we get to Mesa, though? I mean, after all, you did stow away on Canyon, so it’s fair to reason that they’ll arrest you and ship you back there for trial.”
Reval shook his head and drank the bourbon,– but only half the glass this time. “No. It won’t matter.” He looked over at the jackal, flicking his tail tip, a curious look in his own expression. “What about you? Do you have a wife? Family?”
Haden barked a laugh. “No, no wife, definitely. Not for me. As for family…” He shrugged. “I have a half-sister and a father somewhere. One of the colonies, I’m not sure which one anymore. Dad was a pilot, remarried after my mother died. I… well, I ran away. Lost touch over the years… it’s been–” He paused, figuring in his head. “Hell, it’s been fifteen or sixteen years now.” He shrugged again and took another sip of his drink, leaning back against his pillows. “They probably think I died or something, I guess. Or, who knows, maybe they’ve died.”
Revan gave him a puzzled look, a touch of feline judgment in the expression. “You sound apathetic. Don’t you care about them your family?”
Haden tapped a finger against the side of his glass, watchinglooking down into the liquor rippleing in the bottom. “I guess, after so many years, I’m just used to it. I hope they found a better life and all, but… I’m used to making my own path.” He looked up at Revan again, and found the dark serval watching him, the judgement in his eyes replaced with… maybe just a little pity of his own.
“It’s fine,” he went on. “Maybe we’ll meet up again someday, I don’t know. But kids move out eventually anyway, and I get on all right here. I get to travel a lot. What else could I ask for?”
He reached for the bottle again, nodding to Revan’s glass. The serval held it out, and the jackal poured… then the fluid sloshed out over the rim as the bed–no, the whole room–shook violently.
Revan’s eyes went wide and his ears flattened back, tail and hackles flaring. Haden sat up, no less surprised himself, but he pushed back the panic.
“What was that–” Revan began, but another wave of shaking went through the ship and alarms started blaring over the shipwide annunciator out in the corridor.
Haden stood up, putting his glass on the desk and hurriedly corking the bottle of bourbon, tossing the latter on the bed. He staggered a step as the ship shook a third timeagain and a distant creaking groan reverberated through the hull. TheHis glass slid off the edge of the desk and clattered to the floor, spilling its contents.
He turned to Revan. “I need to go. Stay here. No matter what you do, do not open that door after I leave. It’s airtight. If we lose pressure on the other side…” Not that it would matter:; the door opened inward and vacuum in the passageway outside would make it impossible to open.
Revan nodded, clinging terrified to the bunk’s frame, the glass of bourbon forgotten in his hand. Haden grabbed his access card, unlocked the door, and closed it behind him.
#
The General Emergency Alarm–seven short, warbling tones repeating every few seconds on the shipwide annunciators, followed by brief silence before being repeated–sounded three times as Haden left his cabin and started toward the officers’ wardroom, his muster point. As he turned a corner, the alarm was interrupted by a steady ringing tone, the fire alarmindicating a fire somewhere on the ship. His chest tightened and he picked up his pace. In the closed environment of a spacecraft, a fire that got out of control could mean a quick enddeath for the entire crew.
He barreled into the wardroom, catching himself on the doorframe. He spotted an iguana in an officer’s uniform first: First Lieutenant Lopez, the ship’s First OfficerChief Mate. Carter was there, too, wearing a grim look. “Secure the door,” he ordered, his tone matching his expression. Two other members of the deck department were present as well, bewildered and terrified.
Haden pushedpulled the door shut, manually dogging it. “What’s going on?”
“Fire in the engineering compartments,” Carter replied tersely. “Not sure which yet. Possibly an explosion.”
Another alarm sounded: a tone that started at high pitch and fell two octaves, then repeated. “Spindown,” Lopez announced. HadenEveryone in the compartment scrambled along with everyone else to grab something solid or a fixed seat with a restraint, and Captain Wright’s voice came over the shipwide a moment later, the alarm quieting somewhat so she could be heard clearly. “Secure for full spindown and prepare for zero-G. I say again, secure for full spindown and prepare for zero-G. All stations report.”
Another shudder ran through the ship’s structure as thrusters fired to begin slowing its rotation from three revolutions per minute down to nothing, bringing the centrifugal “gravity” provided by centrifugal force down to zero-G. Haden gripped the edge of aone of the tables in the center of the room, leaning against the force, and clenched his jawteeth.
Emergency spindown was one of the most stressful maneuvers the ship could endure. If the ship were upright on the ground, it would resemble a tall, slender communications tower with a utility passageway running down the middle from bottom to top. At the base, the propulsion and powerplant unit sat behind a massive umbrella-shaped radiation shield, shrouding the reactors and protecting the forward parts of the ship. A little higher on the structure, rows of cargo containers were bolted to it in nested clusters, thousands of tons of them. Higher still, the wheel-shaped habitation ring, a delicate structure a hundred and fifty meters in diameter, hung suspended by cables from the tip of the tower. Most of the ring comprised a narrow passageway joining three equally-spaced crew modules. Spokes in the wheel joined the crew modules to the center structure, containing elevator and ladder shafts. The array of guy cables suspending the ring reinforced it to keep it from buckling under propulsion forces, and a web of smaller cables helped keep its circular shape. At the very top of the tower, the sensors, communications antennas, and the main and cargo airlocks sat in an arrowhead-shaped module. The ship’s structure and rigging strongly reinforced it along its length, but longitudinally, different sections had different masses, the ring and its support structure most of all. Differentials between spin thrusters caused the whole thing to twist unevenly. A little too far, and it could snap and fall apart; as it was, Haden was sure he could hear the entire structure creak and groan under the emergency braking force.
He was distracted from his worries by a the lights going out for a few seconds. The emergency lights came on, bathing everything in an eerie amber glow. “What the hell was that?”
The general alarm sounded once more, the warbling, pulsing of tones punching into his head this time. He folded his ears back and shook his head, squinting at Carter and Lopez in the darkness.
“Gamma flash overload,” the mate answered, his calm cracking. “We just dropped out of FTL.”
The warmth spreading through Haden’s body was replaced by a sudden chill as the words registered meaning. “Oh Jesus…” he breathed. Ships travelling above lightspeed built up an electromagnetic bow shock in front of them that was released in a burst when the ship went subluminal and returned to normal space. Normally, they would decelerate stern-first before returning subluminal, dispersing the bow shock into lower energy radiation and using the powerplant shield to protect them from the remainder; if they didn’t, all that energy was released at once as a burst of gamma rays, which was difficult to shield against and at high intensities, could scramble electronics, and the personnel aboard were exposed to it, too. Haden tried not to think about how much exposure that might be. The lights came back on a moment later, and that helped.
The vertigo had started to pass, but the lessened sensation of gravity brought some of it back as the ship spun down to stationary. Haden shook his head, looking around the compartment. The two deck hands, a rabbit and a dog–some kind of northern dog with a curly tail, he couldn’t remember their names–were clinging to chairs facing the display used for watching movies. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Carter braced against the counter by the coffee dispenser, and the Lopez was leaning over it.
He was mumbling into the intercom handset… reporting that the five of them were present and their station was secure. The mate looked over at Carter, apparently in response to a question from the other end of the line. “Where’s our guest?”
Carter perked his ears, then looked at Haden. It took him a moment, during which an impatient look began to form on the old wolf’s face, and then Haden realized what he was asking. “He’s in my cabin. Uh… secure.” He tried to remember whether he’d actually secured the door when he left… but decided it didn’t matter. There were He had bigger, more pressing problems at the moment to worry about. He gripped the table firmly as if pulling it up, to keep his feet firmly on the deck as the rumble of the braking thrusters subsided and both gravity and deceleration force disappeared and left them floating.
LopezThe mate relayed that information, then hung up the handset. “Mister Carter, you’re with me. Fire in the forward machinery compartment, drive section. They’re asking for backup and may have to vent atmosphere.”
CarterThe Old Wolf grimaced, nodding. He turned to the others as Lopez pulled himself toward the door. “Knox, you go get our guest and brief him on evacuation procedures if you haven’t already,” he said. “Farley, Jones, start doing compartment checks along the ring toward the passenger section. When you finish your tasks, report and shelter in place unless otherwise instructed.” He pushed the door open, catching himself on the frame, then pushed out into the passageway with Lopez on his heels.
Haden called a muted “Aye, sir,” after them, and took a deep breath. He looked over at the other two, Farley and Jones, Bewildered and Terrified. “Remember to secure the hatches behind you when you go,” he told them. If they had a leak, they want to limit it to the compartment it was in. He took a moment to reorient himself without gravity, breathed deeply to help settle his nerves, and pushed off, floating out into the passageway himself.
#
Revan was still in their cabin when Haden got there, sitting at the corner of Haden’s bunk with one leg hooked around the vertical support of the frame, both hands gripping it tightly. He looked up at when Haden entered. “What… what’s going on?” He sounded more nervous than he looked.
“There’s a fire in the engineering spaces–it’s okay!” He hurried to reassure the serval, who began to look outright panicked at the mention of fire. “That’s a good three hundred meters awayfrom here and there’s twenty or more sealed hatches between here and there. We’re going to be fine.” He pushed off the bulkhead with one foot, catching the frame of the bunk and swinging himself down to sit on the bunk beside Revan, pushing against the top bunk to hold himself in place. “They sent me back to make sure you’re all right. It’s going to be fine.” He smiled, pointedly keeping his tone level to help keep Revan calm. Hell, he needed it too. This day was not going even remotely according to plan.
“The lights went out–” Revan started.
“Don’t worry, it’s fine. Just a blip–”
“Things do not seem ‘fine,'” Revan interrupted, sounding cross.
Haden took a deep breath, nodded, and started again. “Yeah, we left FTL abruptly. I don’t–it was probably just a safety precaution.” He had no idea whether they shut off the string drive intentionally, but it was a comfort to think so. Although on the flip side, it could mean that the situation was even more dire than the Chief Mate had led him to believe. Probably better not to mention the bow shock radiation, either. “Now… so we’re safe here, and it’s going to stay that way, but I need to brief you on the evacuation procedures, just in case, because you didn’t get the briefing like everyone else did when they came aboard.” He ducked out from under the bunk and pushed himself over to the network display terminal on his desk, pulling up the emergency procedure checklist. He could recite it forward and backward, but Revan would probably remember it better by reading it himself. He beckoned the serval. “Come over here and let me show you.”
Revan extracted himself from the bunk and reached across the gap, gripping Haden’s wrist before letting go of the bunk’s frame, obviously inexperienced with zero-G. Haden pulled him over, trying not to grin despite the situation at the feline’s suddenly-awkward motion. It did take some getting used to. “Just… hold on to me.”
Revan clutched at the fabric of Haden’s coveralls, one hand on his right side, the other behind his left shoulder, and tried to keepmaintain himself upright, while Haden pointed out each item on the evacuation checklist and explained what it meant. The procedure boiled down to moving down the passageway to the lifeboats. “In each passage segment, check the hatch pressure indicator, this thing, look through the port before opening it. Close it once your through, and move on to the next. Then climb into the pod, seal the hatch, and strap in. It will either release automatically, or the instructions for manual release are printed on a placard inside the hatch.”
All the while, the serval held fast to his uniform, leaning in closer to look at the display screen and listening intently. Haden found the contact a little distracting, despite focusing on the checklist; he generally went out of his way to avoid getting too close to his crewmates, but given the circumstances, he figured he’d tolerate it. Besides, the serval’s presence wasn’t… uncomfortable. He was nervous and warm, and the lines of his muzzle in Haden’s peripheral vision cut a nice shape, whiskers and ears flexed attentively forward. His tail flicked distractedly, forgotten as he studied the instructions, brushing up the back of the Haden’s leg…
Haden’s explanation faltered, and he cleared his throat, flexing his own ears back slightly. “So, there are suits inside the pod, and I’ll show you how to put them on if it comes to that.” He turned his head to look directly at Revan. The serval looked up at him, and Haden blinked. The feline’s head was much closer than he expected; in fact, their muzzles were almost touching. He leaned back slightly, swallowing and holding his breath for a moment, realizing that his pulse was quickening. “Uh, any questions?”
Revan looked back to the display, then shook his head. “No, I guess that’s all pretty simple. And if we have to, you’ll, uh… remind me, right?”
Haden nodded, swallowing again. “Yeah, it’s easy. And yeah, I’ll be there. But we’re not going to have to.” He fought the urge to fidget, but when Revan turned around to reach for the bunk again, the feline’s tail flicked and curled, brushing up the back of Haden’s leg again, halfway up his thigh, and Haden’s own tail wagged twice before he realized it. He flicked his ears back and stilled it, thankful the cat was facing the other way. Because it meant he couldn’t see the jackal’s expression, not because it afforded a free and admittedly pleasant view.
Revan reached the bunk and was holding on securely again, but the silence still stretched on, longer than was comfortable. Finally, the serval spoke up, glancing toward the door. “So, uh, what now?” He turned his eyes back to the jackal, winding his tail around his ankle.
“Heh. Now, I guess… we wait.” Haden pushed over to the locker, which he’d left open, he noted with annoyance. Bad habit to leave things (and stowaways) unsecured, but it seemed like everything was still in place and mostly undisturbed. He shut it, then floated over to the bunk, catching the bottle of bourbon, now floating by his pillows, revolving slowly. He pulled the top half of the stopper, popping out a nipple for sipping, and handed it to Revan. “Here, good for soothing nerves. Just don’t squeeze too hard, don’t want to choke on eighty-proof.”
Revan frowned, but took a pull off the bottle and handed it back, wiping his muzzle on the back of his hand. Haden thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. What the hell, mid-emergency or not, he had nothing to do for a while, either, and his nerves could use a bit of soothing as well. He took longer pull on the bottle, then shut the cap.
“The lack of gravity is uncomfortable,” Revan said. “What do you do, just float around all the time?”
Haden laughed, shaking his head. “Not unless I have to. Here, look… In zero-g, down and up are wherever you want them to be.” He grabbed his bunk and rotated himself ninety degrees with respect to the cabin, so his back was against the mattress and the bottom of the top bunk was in front of him. He stretched his legs out, “sitting” against the bulkhead, wedged between the top of his bunk and the bottom of the bunk above. “You just reorient yourself and start thinking of the new directions. You’re above me now.” He pointed at the serval, who was holding on at the foot of the bed. “Come down and have a seat. This is probably the most comfortable for now.”
Revan regarded him dubiously, but pulled himself hand over hand along the edge of the bunk and swung in to join the jackal. He looked perplexed, adjusting his position to mimic Haden’s, grabbing at the jackal’s coveralls again until he was seated close. When he looked around the cabin, his ears skewed, looking like his head was spinning until he looked at Haden and the world seemed to stabilize around him without the rest of the room to tell him he was off-kilter.
He grin. “This is pretty weird.”
Haden nodded, grinning back. “You get used to it, though. Some ships only have gravity when they engines are running and they’re under acceleration. No habitat ring at all. And even centrifugal artifical gravity is disorienting the first while.”
Revan shook his head. “Liable to lose my lunch if I had to do that.” He looked down at his hands and realized he was still gripping Haden’s coveralls; he started to loosen his grip, but hesitated. He glanced up at the jackal, swivelling one ear back uncertainly, then let go with one arm, sliding it behind the jackal’s back in a loose hold, and leaning against his side.
Haden tensed, raising his own arms, bourbon sloshing in the bottle, not sure what to make of that. He’s just getting adjusted to the zero-G, he told himself. Revan closed his eyes. “I just feel kind of wobbly. Dizzy.”
Haden nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah. Takes some getting used to. That’s… that’s fine.” He relaxed slowly. What the hell, why not? He draped his arm over Revan’s shoulder, bringing the bottle in his other hand to his muzzle to pull the cap with his teeth and take another drink. Revan was warm, and Haden flicked an ear up: he was sure he even heard the serval quietly purr for a moment.
Well, at least it kept him from focusing on the disaster back in engineering. He relaxed and adjusted his position, which pinned Revan’s arm behind him. He turned to look at the serval. “Comfortable?”
Revan looked up, and then kissed him. Haden froze, staring into the serval’s golden eyes, body tensing.
Revan’s eyes widened and his ears laid back, and he pulled back quickly, turning his head away. “I’m sorry. I just… I wanted to thank you. For… everything.” He started to pull away, and Haden almost let him–then on split-second impulse, squeezed the cat’s shoulder in his hand.
“It’s… it’s fine. You’re welcome,” he said, the words sounding lame. The shock was starting to wear off, and it was being replaced by confusion.
Revan glanced back at him over his shoulder, then sat back slowly. “You sure?” He still looked worried, as though he’d overstepped his bounds–and hell he had overstepped, but for some reason, Haden found himself actually not minding.
The jackal nodded. “Yeah. You’re fine.” He forced a chuckle. “Course you could have just said, ‘Thank you,’ you know.”
Revan tilted his ears back again, but not as far this time. “Yeah, I probably should have just… said that.” He started to say something else, but hesitated, looking down at his feet, where his tailtip flicked nervously between his ankles.
Haden perked his ears forward. “Yes…?”
“I just thought you might… I mean, I saw the way you were looking at me.”
Haden’s ears folded, hot to the pointed tips. “Oh. I see.” He’d looked, but not that hard, he was sure. “Uh… sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” In truth, he hadn’t realized he was, though if he was trying to avoid seeming to stare, then maybe he had been.
Revan glanced back at him, this time flashing a grin. “It’s fine. I don’t mine.” He met Haden’s eyes and held his gaze for a moment. “I mean, I kissed you, didn’t I?”
Haden nodded, ears still back. God, this is awkward! he thought. On the other hand, it’d been months, maybe even a year, and if the serval was interested… Of course, he was also supposed to be guarding him, and, he reminded himself, they were in the middle of a shipwide emergency that–
His internal argument was interrupted when Revan lifted a hand, cupped his cheek, and kissed him again, closing his eyes this time.
A soft kiss, lips warm, then parting, his tongue even warmer as touched. Haden found his own lips parting, exhaling a huff of breath while his head tilted slightly to deepen the kiss. He closed his eyes as well, conscience railing against him this is wrong, you shouldn’t be kissing this cat! He shut it up by pulling the serval up against him and returning the kiss firmly, curling his tongue with the feline’s rougher one, sliding against it to curl behind his teeth.
Revan turned to face the jackal and climbed into his lap, tucking his feet under Haden’s legs to hold himself in place. He broke the kiss, resting both his hands on the jackal’s chest, and laughed breathily. “This is kind of weird with no gravity.” He fiddled with the tab of the zipper running down the front of Haden’s coveralls.
Haden grinned and ran his hands down the serval’s sides to his hips. “Are you sure you want to do this? You and your wife still might–” He broke off, kicking himself internally, as Revan’s smile faded. “Sorry,” he said, squeezing the feline’s hips. “I’ll shut up now.”
Revan smirked and lashed his tail. “Good idea.” He let it go at that, taking hold of the zipper tab and sliding it down–then laughing again. “You wear a shirt under this?”
Haden looked down at his chest. “Yeah… the zipper snags fur if I don’t. And the coveralls are canvas, they turn my fur all around.” He grinned. “I can take it off, though.”
“Oh, good.” Revan slid the zipper all the way down and tugged the bottom of the shirt up, then tucked his fingers down into the boxer shorts the jackal wore beneath them.
Haden sucked a breath through his teeth, feeling the feline’s fingers slide down around his sheath, slipping it back over his already half-firm flesh. He squeezed the serval’s hips again, then pushed his coveralls off over his shoulders and jerked the sleeves down, and pulled the undershirt up and off, letting it drift away.
He reached to pull up the bottom of Revan’s T-shirt, but only got it untucked before the serval found his swelling knot and squeezed. His body tensed his hip twitched up, and his hands forgot what they were doing as Revan stroked slowly over the bulge and up along the jackal’s rapidly stiffening cock. The serval gave him a wicked grin and lashed his tail, stroking slowly, pushing Haden’s sheath back to bare his full rigid length. “That was quick…” He worked at pushing the jackals coveralls and shorts down around his hips
Haden laughed breathily, panting lightly and letting his tail wag freely for once. “Happens… sometimes…” He helped push his clothing down, jostling the cat in his lap as he kicked them off completely.
Reven looked down at him, smiling, eyes wandering over the jackal’s naked, golden fur, but ultimately settling on the rigid cock he was stroking. “You’re rather handsome, you know…” he said, looking up, still stroking slowly.
Haden felt his ears warm again, angling them back and smiling. “Thaaaahnkss…” trailed off into a groan as Revan scooted back over his legs and leaned down, angling the jackal’s cock upward and curling his rough feline tongue around the tip. Haden curled his fingers in the blanket over his mattress, pulling both of them up against it, just as Revan’s lips parted and slipped over him, wrapping half his cock in warmth and curling his tongue along the underside to the tip. He looked up as he lifted his muzzle and slipped his lips over the tip of the jackal’s cock, stroking his full length again, meeting Haden’s eyes for just a moment before pressing down again, this time taking the jackal’s cock into his muzzle right up until his lips pressed against the swollen base. And then he started to purr.
Haden shuddered, groaning deeply and panting harder, hips twitching back, then forward, though he tried to restrain them. He rubbed the serval’s ears, fingers curling in the fur over the back of his head, twitching and squirming as the feline bobbed up again and curled his fingers around the base of his cock, slipping his other hand between the jackal’s legs to cup beneath his sac, already tightening up to hug his balls close to his body.
“I’m… fuck…” Haden stopped panting long enough to gulp, trying to get a warning out, knowing he wasn’t going to last long and trying to be polite about it. “I’m gonna… oh fuck!” He gave up, barely voicing the last word, guessing through the haze of pleasure that Revan would probably figure it out. His cock tensed, twitching once, then pulsed hard and fast, still enveloped in the warmth of Revan’s muzzle and the tingling vibrations of his feline purr, while the can made no move to pull off of his cock. Haden curled his fingers, stroking the serval’s ears, too overwhelmed by the mixed sensations of warmth and purring and grazing teeth and gliding tongue and squeezing, stroking, cupping, to feel bad about coming so quickly, just riding it out as his climax peaked, then gradually began to subside.
Revan didn’t seem to mind. He curled his tongue around Haden’s shaft as he pulled up, the sensation different now that the bristles were slick with cum. He flicked his tongue over the tip of Haden’s cock as he pulled off, making the jackal grunt and twitch.
Haden heaved a breath, laughing shortly. “Sorry… that was… pretty quick, too…” He rubbed over Revan’s head and neck, squeezed his shoulders, and then pulled him up, wrapping him in a loose embrace, chest to chest. Revan was still purring. The deep thrum felt good against his body, and so did the serval’s own erection, pressing alongside his own spent shaft. Drifting over the bunk, no contact anywhere on his body except the body pressed again his.
Revan swallowed, just pointedly enough to be sure Haden noticed, but without making a show of it. He licked his lips and slipped his fingers through up through the jackal’s coarse fur to his shoulders, then down again, sliding past his still-wagging tail to knead his bare rump. “I’m flattered.”
Haden perked his ears and looked at the serval, then bumped his nose against the feline’s whiskers. He hmmed, then grinned, grinding up against the cat and making sure to rub firmly against his stiff but covered cock.
Reven perked his ears. “What?” he said.
Haden reached behind himself and grabbed a handful of the blanket on his bunk, turning their bodies so he could pull open the drawer under his bunk and rummage, coming up with–he abruptly realized, canting his ears back–an embarrassing large bottle of lube. Only half full.
Revan apparently had the same thought, choking back a snicker. Haden shrugged and grinned. “Hey, it’s a long way between the stars.” He licked the serval’s nose. “You uh… wanna? It’s only fair.” He winked and wagged his tail, hiking it up to be sure the serval could see it, and making sure the slight sway of his hips from his tail’s motion rubbed enticingly against the cat’s lap.
Revan looked at him, then at the bottle, and squeezed the jackal’s butt again before letting go. He wiggled down and started unfastening his pants, and Haden grinned, pulling up the serval’s shirt to help him undress.
He was surprised, once they’d divested Revan of his clothes, that what he had thought was uniformly black fur was actually not really black at all. Truly black spots dotted his body, down his sides to his hips and legs, and he had a patch of grayish fur across his belly. Standing in much starker contrast was the pink length of the cat’s cock.
Haden curled his fingers around it, feeling the warmth and smiling, squeezing lightly and stroking slowly while Revan caught the floating bottle and fumbled with the cap. Haden lifted his hand, palm up; Revan turn it over and squeezed some of the clear gel onto his fingers.
Haden switched hands, spreading the cool, slick semi-fluid generously over the stiff, pink flesh, stroking slowly, pleased with himself when the cat sighed and started to purr again, twitching in his fingers. He watched his expression, the way his whiskers flexed, his eyes drifted shut, and when he dipped his chin toward his chest, the white spots on the backs of his relaxed ears were visible.
He didn’t stop the slow stroking until Revan opened his eyes and put a hand on the jackal’s chest, smiling slightly and angling his ears further back, pressing his claws through fur to lightly prickle at the jackal’s chest. Haden grinned, pulling his knees up and reaching down to spread some of the lubricant under his tail, then wrapped his legs securely around the serval’s waist. “You’ll have to hold on to me, too,” he said, grinning. “No gravity to hold us together.”
Revan nodded, reaching around to aim himself, while haden shifted his hips to help–and then both of them drew a sharp breath when Revan found his mark and pressed, slipping smoothly inward, spreading, then stretching Haden around his girth. The jackal wrapped his legs tighter, crossing his feet and rolling his hips, breathing deeply and soaking in the sensation of being filled. He put his hands on the serval’s sides, and Revan tried hugging him first, then put his hands on the jackal’s shoulders.
Haden breathed deep, relaxing and squeezing around the serval’s cock as he began to thrust. Already spent himself, the sensation wasn’t as intense as it might have been, but he was still sensitive, the gliding, filling thrusts pleasurable enough to start stiffening a little again even though he was already spent. He slid his fingers through Revan’s dark fur, stroking his sides, back, and shoulders, pulling him closer as the feline began to thrust more and more urgently. Haden still watched the serval’s face through half-lidded eyes, panting with him as the feline first laid his ears back, then curled his lip to bare his teeth… and finally, with a sharp, deep thrust, hissed through his teeth and growled, arching his back and thrashing his tail, pressing his cheek to the jackal’s slender muzzle. Haden shivered, panting into the thick and fluffy fur, squeezing tightly around the serval’s pulsing cock and rolling his hips until he began to relax.
They slumped together in each other’s arms, Haden’s legs still wrapped around Revan’s waist, drifting together in open air, not even over the bunk anymore. Revan lifted his head and bumped his nose against Haden’s with a lazy, contented look in his golden eyes. He opened his mouth to say something.
The intercom annunciator in the cabin activated, the captain’s voice cutting him off.
“Crewman Knox, report to the wardroom immediately for situation briefing.”
#
Haden cursed, zipping up his coveralls and hurrying down the passageway in zero-G by following the ever-upward curving floor around the habitation ring almost on all fours. He wasn’t used to being called to meetings by the captain, and with the events of the past twenty-four hours and abrupt call to the briefing, his frayed nerves were beginning to return. Even with the last hour he’d spent with Revan. Especially because of the last hour he’d spent with Revan. He hoped the swift toweling-off and liberal application of deodorant to his fur would be enough to mask the scent of sex.
He caught the doorway of the wardroom to arrest his forward movement and reached down to activate his magboots–actually little more than sandals under his paws, keeping him loosely connected to the deck plating. Other members of the crew were still making their way in, but he noted that Captain Wright was already present. Although her command demeanor was still intact, she looked weary. Haden glanced around the room, looking for Carter, but the Old Wolf wasn’t there yet.
As the last few personnel filtered in, Wright turned from her quiet conversation with the Chief Mate and tugged her uniform shirt straight. Lopez called everyone to attention.
“At ease, and good morning,” Wright began, but the look on her face indicated anything but. “I’m sure that by now everyone knows that we have suffered a series of emergencies, apparently beginning with an electrical fire in the machinery spaces aft, which led to the rupture of several oxygen cylinders, causing it to spread into adjacent compartments and requiring venting atmosphere to extinguish. Our present state is stable: the reactors are still online, main sublight propulsion is operational, and life support is functional throughout the rest of the ship. However, several other problems have arisen, including the unscheduled deactivation of the String Asymmetry Shift Drive. This has placed us at a sublight velocity of approximately point-seven-six c relative to objects within ten parsecs. This may complicate rescue if we are unable to self-recover.”
She paused as a murmur went through the room. Haden’s tail pressed against the back of his leg, a little of the vertigo he’d felt earlier beginning to return. Seventy-six percent of the speed of light was… catastrophic. A record-setting flight might reach five percent of the speed of light, and a standard exit into normal space resulted in speeds a fraction of that. That meant… the drive had not been shut down gracefully; it had most likely failed.
“As I’m sure everyone is aware, we do not have on-board resources for nine months of continuous deceleration, so we will be performing repairs en route.” She placed a subtle emphasis on performing, rather than attempting. “We have also transmitted a general distress call and are awaiting a response. It’s important that everyone remain calm for the sake of smooth operations and the safety of our twenty passengers. While this situation is dire, everyone knows their duties, and I expect the same level-headed and professional work you each do on a daily basis to continue. Which brings us to the next order of business.”
She took a deep breath, glancing at the Chief Mate again. He snapped to a rigidly standing position and called the crew to attention again. The iguana looked grim, even with his difficult-to-read expressions. Everyone in the room stood, the murmuring voices subsiding into silence.
Wright waited a moment before continuing. “It is my sad duty to report that in the course of fighting the fire, three of our crew perished. Crewman Tammer Rogers, Senior Crewman Pierre Durand, and Chief Crewman Randolph Carter gave their lives to protect our well-being. I would like a moment of silence in reflection on their sacrifice.”
Haden felt a knot forming in the pit of his stomach as she named the fallen crewmembers–then his head jerked up and he stared, blood suddenly running cold.
Randolph–Randy Carter. Chief Carter. The Old Wolf.
Haden turned, searching the room. This couldn’t be right, Carter was here, in the room, attending this briefing like he always did. He had to be. Face by face he looked, then searched again, then a third time. The Captain’s voice faded into the background, overwhelmed by the rushing sound in his ears, a mumbling voice underlaying the sound of ringing. He’d just seen Carter, for fuck’s sake! In this very room, just a few hours ago–
He became aware of someone saying his name, then again, louder. His attention snapped back to the front of the room, where the Captain was looking directly at him, the others present watching him uneasily.
“Mister Knox, are you all right?” Wright softened her voice; her eyes held compassion. It made his stomach tumble.
Haden realized he was panting and snapped his jaw shut with an audible snap. He swallowed heavily, nodded once, turned to face the front of the room again. He forced his ears forward halfway–as far as they would go–and cleared his throat, his heartbeat still racing. “Yes, ma’am. I’m… I’m fine.”
No, I am not fucking all right!
Wright watched him for a moment, then nodded as well. “As I was saying, it will be necessary to fill the ranks upward. Effective immediately, you are being promoted to interim Chief Crewman and posted as acting boatswain. I wish it were under better circumstances. You’ll join the officers’ briefing on the bridge at fourteen-hundred; please report to Lieutenant Lopez at thirteen-thirty for a briefing on your duties.”
“Yes ma’am.” Haden clenched his jaw, forcing himself to breath slower, deeper, trying to relax, let his tail hang naturally. The briefing continued, he needed to listen, pay attention.
Still, he found his gaze wandering to the doorway, his thoughts wandering back to… just a few hours ago, but it suddenly felt like an eternity. The grim look on Carter wore as he issued orders, then struck out into the passageway, without a moment’s hesitation. Even his zero-G form had been perfect form, as skilled in weightlessness as he was under gravity. The epitome of an experienced, professional spacefarer. Haden closed his eyes, then forced them open, blinking them dry. I will not… do this. Not now. Not here.
He clenched up, from the base of his neck to his fingers and toes, then exhaled deeply and forced himself to relax, turning his attention to back to the Captain.
#
His resolve lasted long enough to get through the briefing on the ship’s condition and the emergency plan of action, but the surreality of the situation began to settle heavily over his shoulders as they filed out of the wardroom and he made his way to his cabin. Once there, he shut the door, locked it, and took a ragged breath, hovering just in front of the doorway.
Revan looked up as he came in, immediately concerned. “What happened?”
Haden stared at his hands, holding them palm up and trembling slightly. “It… I got promoted.” He barked a ragged laugh.
Revan pulled himself off of the top bunk and down to the floor more or less standing, dressed now. He gave Haden a confused smile. “That’s… good, right?”
Haden closed his eyes and laid his ears back, laying his head back against the door with a thump, which made his body pitch forward slowly. He sucked a deep breath through his teeth, clenching his eyes more tightly shut, then ducked his head to wipe them with his hands. He shook his head. “Carter’s dead.” Revan laid his ears back, tail curling slowly side to side. He started to speak, unsure what to say.
Haden twisted and slammed the bottom of his fist against the locker. “He shouldn’t have gone. It should have been me going down there. I’ve done all the same firefighting drills everyone else has, but he has the–had the experience to do this job. The one goddamned person in my life–on this this ship, worth a damn! He shouldn’t have gone. It should have been me.” Haden clenched his fists and crunched his knuckles together, curling in midair as a bitter sob forced its way out. He wiped his eyes again, sending glittering droplets of tears floating placidly away. He looked up, shaking his head in disgust and wiping them again. “Fucking tears… they just… flood your eyes…” He sniffed through his nose and swatted a hand through the air at floating droplets, baring his teeth at his inability to stop them.
Revan pushed across the space between them and wrapped his arms around the jackal. Haden laid his ears back and twisted away, but the serval just squeezed him tighter. “I’m so sorry,” he said, tucking his muzzle against Haden’s shoulder and laying his own ears back flat. “I’m… I’m so sorry…”
Haden let out another ragged sob, then wrapped his arms around the serval, clinging tight. “It should have been me.”
Revan closed his eyes and swallowed. “I’m glad it wasn’t.”
#
Haden let out a deep breath, rubbing his eyes clear again, and rapped smartly on the open doorway to the First Mate’s office, crossing the threshold only when the iguana waved him in.
“Crewman Knox reporting as ordered, sir.” He stood at attention while Lieutenant Lopez finished whatever he was working on.
The iguana looked up from his desk and regarded Haden with his head slightly to one side, so he could look the jackal over. “That’s Chief Knox now. Acting Chief, anyway. You’ve been Bosun’s mate for two and a half years, aye?”
Haden noded. “Yes sir, just shy, and a deck hand six months before that.”
“Mmm. You realize you have considerably more responsibility now. You’ll be covering your former duties as well as the duties of chief of the deck department. No more room for slacking off.”
Haden blinked, caught off guard. “Sir..?”
“I know my ship, Mister Knox, and I know her crew. Just because you think I’m not watching doesn’t mean I’m not. You sham as much as the next crewman. More sometimes. Minimum standard spacefarer. And certainly not meeting your potential.”
The iguana’s tone wasn’t exactly accusatory, but the iguana’s speech was hard to gauge. His expression wasn’t any more readable. Haden felt off-balance, not entirely sure how to take the lecture, but the frank analysis of his performance stung. As the iguana said, he hadn’t thought any senior officers would notice him when they weren’t around, and he’d always been careful to be on his best behavior when they were around.
Lopez looked expectant. After a moment, he prompted, “Well?”
“Er… Yes, sir.” Haden stood up straighter, answering by acknowledgement only, noncommittal about the judgement.
The iguana regarded him silently for a moment longer. “Maybe you wonder why I’m pointing this out to you. I know you know your job. I know you know the Chief’s job. What I want you to know, to be aware of, is that all eyes on this ship are on you now. Other things too, but the whole crew knows you, and they’re all going to be watching you to see what you do, forming new opinions of you. You don’t have Mister Carter to cover for you anymore. You need to watch your step. Precision, attention to detail, and no more skulking. Until we put in again, you’re the Chief.”
Haden swallowed, nodding. “Yes, sir. I… I won’t let you down, sir.” Acknowledging that maybe he hadn’t been giving it a hundred percent was awkward; but he recognized, too, that he was being given the opportunity to shape up. He put his shoulders back a little more, lifted his chin. I can do that.
They were interrupted by the sound of magboots out in the passageway. Lopez shifted his gaze to the doorway, and Haden canted his ears back, listening, then looking over his shoulder. The tiger from Engineering, Marks, came into view, dragging a dark-furred, weightless form with him–Haden laid his ears back and tried not to cringe, recognizing Revan. Marks fixed him with an expression between derision and gloating. Behind them, a bear came into view, another engineering hand. She looked uneasily between Lopez, Haden, and Marks. Haden hadn’t seen her much, and had to look at her name tag to remember it: Andrea Guo.
Marks held Revan’s upper arm in one hand and knocked loudly on the door with the other, shifting his gaze to Lopez. “Sir.”
The iguana stood up and came around his desk. “What’s this, Crewman Marks?”
“Sir, I found the prisoner sneaking through the ship. Alone. Again.” Marks glared at Haden.
“I wasn’t sneaking,” Revan snarled, but without much force. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday. I was looking for the cafeteria.”
Haden did cringe, but caught it before the expression was fully formed. Speaking of not screwing up… Cabin unsecured with prisoner inside: check. Failure to feed prisoner: check. Prisoner caught by the thug-tiger from the engineering department: double check.
“Why’d you try to hide, then?” Marks addressed the serval, but kept his eyes on Haden.
“Because you’re psychotic!” Revan tried to pull away from the tiger, who merely tightened his grip.
Haden turned to face Marks. “Let him go.” He kept his voice even, but put as much authority into it as he could muster. Marks sneered–literally sneered at him.
“I said let him go, crewman.” Haden bristled, raising his voice slightly and flexing his new authority. “Unless you’d like to spend some time confined to quarters as well.”
One of the tiger’s ears swivelled back, and he looked to Lopez. Haden glanced over his shoulder at the officer too–a mistake, he realized too late. His orders were still orders; he didn’t need Lopez to affirm them, so looking to the Chief Mate implied uncertainty. Haden covered the error by asking, “Sir, it’s my understanding that Mr. Smith is our guest, albeit unauthorized, and not our prisoner? He’s confined to quarters for safety, but allowed the usual necessaries, which include–” he looked back at Marks, narrowing his eyes “–going to the mess for meals.”
Lopez paused a moment, watching Haden and Marks stare each other down. “That is correct,” the iguana said.
Marks laid both his ears back and lashed his tail, but he released the serval’s arm. Guo took hold of Revan, but only to stabilize him so he didn’t drift, keeping him more or less standing upright on the deck.
“Is there anything else, crewman?” Haden continued the faceoff with the tiger, his icy demeanor gaining confidence.
“No.” The tiger barely contained his contempt. “That’s all. Chief.”
“Belay that. There is something else, actually.” Haden looked back at Lopez, surprised, as the iguana stepped around him to look more closely at Revan. “Mister Marks, why is our guest bleeding from the nose?”
Marks looked at Revan, surprised as well. A fine thread of crimson was indeed oozing from the serval’s nose, separating into drifting droplets, propelled by his breath. Haden laid his ears back flat and looked at Marks sharply.
“I didn’t touch him!” the tiger protested. “Just held him by the arm, I didn’t rough him up!”
“That’s true,” said Guo, speaking up for the first time. She still looked uneasy. “I was with him when we found him. He just grabbed him by the arm, that’s all.”
Haden turned back to the serval, who looked up at him with a half-dazed, unfocused look. “I just…” He trailed off, eyes rolling up, and then his body went limp.
#
Haden fought the urge to keep checking the clock on the wall in his cabin. It was still the middle of his designated rest period between watches–abbreviated now that Carter was gone: four hours on, four hours off. He sat in the jumpseat-style chair bolted to the wall by his bunk, a seat belt keeping him from drifting. He looked down at the unconscious serval laying on the lower bunk beside him. He felt conflicted: only a day before, he had taken offense at the same thing; then he’d invited him in and they had… shared it. And now…
He flicked his ears back and growled at himself, the conflict still twisting at him. He liked the serval, he had to admit that much to himself. Even if it was probably just sex had a way of making you like someone, especially when you hadn’t gotten laid in months. But the things they’d learned from the ship’s doctor…
It didn’t happen like in the cinema. Revan woke simply by opening his eyes, wincing once, and putting a hand over them. Haden’s sat up and leaned toward Revan. “You feel sick? Doc said you might.”
Revan shook his head, taking a couple of deep breaths before turning his head to look at Haden, then down at the sheet tensioned over him to keep from drifting off the bed. “What’s going on? This–oh, it’s stretchy.” He shook his head and looked up again, ears turning back weakly at the grim look on Haden’s face. “What’s going on?” he asked again.
“You passed out while bleeding where you shouldn’t have been bleeding, so we took you to the doc. Turns out you’re suffering from radiation poisoning. But Doc says you’ll be fine, she put you on a recovery dose of anti-rads and a slow wake-up. Sent you back here. You’ve been out a few hours.”
Revan rubbed his temples, holding his breath for a moment, then pushed himself up to a sitting position. “You got anything to drink?”
Haden nodded, unbuckling from his seat and crossing the cabin to get a squeeze bottle of water. “Captain’s got me watching you closer now. They have some questions.” He turned around, regarding Revan levelly, and handed the bottle over. “I’m supposed to let them know soon as you wake up. But I have some questions too.”
Revan drank greedily, but stopped to look sidelong at Haden when the jackal stayed quiet. He took another swallow, then pulled the bottle from his lips. “What kind of questions?” he asked slowly.
“Doc says it’s pretty clear you spent several days in the engineering spaces. Near the main reactor or engines.”
Revan took another sip from the squeeze bottle. “That’s not a question.”
Haden held his tail still. He did like the cat. But the implications were severe. “You were not authorized in that area of the ship. Obviously. But you’re the one unauthorized person that’s been in there. And that’s where the fire was. The Chief Engineer said the fire looked deliberate, due to tampering. And M–someone else in the engineering department said he found what looked like blood and fur from someone scraping against some machinery in the compartment where the fire started.” He paused. “The doc went down and checked it out. Said it matches yours. And there’s a gash on your arm.”
Revan’s ears turned back slowly as Haden went on. He looked down at his arm. The scratch had been cleaned and bandaged, though it wasn’t serious. He turned to look at Haden. “You’re still not asking a question,” he said, voice subdued, tail twitching under the sheet.
“There’s evidence that puts you in the engineering spaces, where you shouldn’t have been. Evidence that you were in the compartment where the fire started. Evidence of sabotage.” Haden hesitated, his throat tightening. “And three people have died as a result. One of them was my friend.”
Revan pushed the sheet down to free his legs, turning to face Haden, his hand pressed up against the bottom of the top bunk to hold him in place. He gave the jackal a searching look, tailtip still twitching. Finally, he asked, “What are you asking me, Haden?”
Haden felt his lip start to curl, but he kept his teeth covered. He swallowed once, his chest tightening too. “Did you start that fire? Sabotage the equipment… something. Something to cause the fire for some reason.”
Revan kept Haden’s eyes with a steady gaze and replied, firmly, “No.” No hesitation.
“Don’t lie to me, Revan.” Haden swallowed again, shook his head. “Please don’t lie to me.”
Revan leaned forward, swinging his feet off the bunk. “I am not lying to you. Yes, I was down in the machinery rooms. For several days. That’s how I got aboard. But I didn’t sabotage anything. Hell I didn’t touch anything! Are you kidding? All the radiation hazard signs and danger-high-voltage signs and caution-machinery signs…” He shook his head. “That’s half the reason I got out of there. I mean, people work down there so I figured it was safe enough, but it makes you worry.”
Haden let him finish, narrowing his eyes slightly. It sounded like it rang true, but… “What about the blood, the fur they found? The cut on your arm?”
Revan lowered his muzzle and laid his ears back, tail lashing across the mattress. He held up his arm, pointing to the bandage. “This? That fucking tiger got me with his claws when he grabbed me. When you told him to let me go and he shoved me, he was claws-out and dragged it right through.”
That… actually made sense. Marks was aggressive, and he had a short temper. “But how did blood and fur get down in the machinery compartment?”
Revan threw up his free hand and sputtered. “How the hell should I know? He got blood and fur stuck under his nails and put it down there himself?” He turned his palm up. “How about this? You said it was in the compartment where the fire started. How come it didn’t get burnt up in the fire?”
Haden mulled that over. It was a good question. “Sometimes… fire is unpredictable in zero-G.”
“They didn’t stop the ship until after the fire started and spread. The whole ship spins in flight, right?”
Haden nodded thoughtfully. “Still, you never know. And… well, I didn’t see it, either. Doc, the Captain, Chief Mate, and the Chief Engineer went. And Marks.” He squinted down at his feet. “As Doc put it, we don’t exactly have a forensics lab on board. But Doc said it matched your arm and the blood matched yours.” He waved a hand in the air. “Looked at it under the microscope, ran some tests and stuff.”
Revan scooted forward a little more, perching on the edge of the bunk, one hand still planted overhead to hold himself in place. “Look, there’s no way I could have started that fire. I have no idea what any of that stuff is down there. I’m not an engineer. I’ve never been aboard a space ship in my life except as a passenger, and only a handful of times for that.” He paused until Haden looked up at him again, looking him eyes. “I didn’t start that fire. I did not cause your friends’ deaths.”
Haden shut his eyes and flatted his ears, rubbing his muzzle. “Then who the hell did?”
Revan flicked his tailtip, drumming his fingers against the bottom of the top bunk. “Marks did.”
Haden looked over his fingers without lifting his muzzle. “What? Marks? What?”
“Marks started the fire.” Revan hesitated, folding an ear back, then shook his head slightly and continued, still rhythmically curling his tail at the tip. “Marks helped get me on the ship, and his part was to help get me off the ship too. He had to get us out of FTL long enough for, uh… another ship to meet with us, and then we get off. It wasn’t supposed to seriously break anything, though, and nobody was supposed to get hurt.” He growled and shook his head. “But seriously, he’s fucking psychotic.”
“Wait… what the hell? What are you talking about? What ship?” Haden sat up, incredulous. “You saying this is all a conspiracy?”
Revan made a face and tipped his ears back, curling his tail around to lay across his knees. “Yeah… kinda…”
Haden stared at the serval. “Explain,” he said, flatly.
Revan closed his eyes for a moment and curled the fingers of his free hand around the tip of his tail in his lap. “So… okay. I–remember I told you about my wife? She got arrested and I was taken to Canyon to testify against her?” Haden merely nodded, and the serval continued. “We were both part of the independence movement on Mesa. But we had… philosophical differences. She’s kind of hot-headed, and she hates the corporations. All of them. She has her reasons. But I said we should take Haasbroek’s help, because we’ll get support and not alienate–” He paused and shook his head. “Anyway. That doesn’t matter. She wanted to strike out on our own without any corporate help or sponsorship, no support of any kind except from ‘our kind.’ Like they did on Canyon. And I’m sure you know the mess that made. Most of the group disagreed, and that ate her up. So she booked a ship to Canyon on her own, trying to recruit people who’d supported Canyon’s independence. She got involved in some things that she didn’t… well, no. I can’t say I’m surprised. She’s hot-headed and it was bound to come down to something like that.”
He sighed. “Anyway, she got caught and arrested. I was planning to go to try to convince her to give that whole quest up and just come back and do it our way, but they came for me first. So… it put me in a difficult position, you know?” He looked up. “She’s my wife. Was. Still is, technically, but she thinks I’m a coward–well, she made it clear we’re over. She doesn’t want to see me again. So that’s that. But I still had to testify.”
Haden sat back down in his chair, listening quietly, watching the serval’s expression as he told the story. Revan looked at his tail in his hand, thumb and fingers brushing through the fur, lost in thought for a moment. Haden was about prompt him to go on, but the serval continued on his own.
“So, I don’t agree with Marie, and I don’t like… what she did. But I still don’t want to testify against her. And the law on Canyon is weird. They’re still figuring it out, I guess. So when this coyote comes to me and says he can get me back to Mesa… Well, I mean, what could I say? He arranged to get me on this ship. And Marks was in on it. He escorted a maintenance crew from the shipyard aboard to do some kind of work, and they slipped me in with them.”
Haden thought about it for a moment. The narrative sounded plausible. Canyon certainly was a mess since gaining independence, with thirty or forty factions vying for control, each establishing their own laws and procedures. And corporate authorities on Mesa might cooperate with an extradition, especially if it was independence-related. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Who’s the coyote? Why’d he want to help you?”
Revan shrugged. “I honestly didn’t ask too many questions. He called himself Rob, or Bob, and he was… not forthcoming. He had a hyena with him when we first met, a bodyguard or something. Not with him, but he was standing outside the restaurant where we met. Kept looking in. I saw him again the day they shuffled me aboard. Pretty sure I saw a corporate ID on his jacket, but Rob-Bob was in a suit and they weren’t close enough to get a good look, anyway.” He shrugged again. “If I had to guess, some Haasbroek field exec who knew who I was because of my wife, and wanted to support the corporate interests.” He hesitated. “I’m… well, I’m not trying to brag at all, but… I guess I am moderately important on Mesa, as a local figurehead at least. I’ve been on the regional news a few times. Given a few speeches at rallies. I’m not a leader or anything, or at least, I don’t think I am… Hell, I don’t know anymore. This whole thing is just a mess from the bottom up.” Revan leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and holding his muzzle in his hands, and immediately started to drift off of the edge of the bunk. One hand went back up to hold himself in place.
Something clicked in Haden’s head. “Marks threw a fit in the mess the other day, when they were discussing the Mesa independence politics. He ranted about both Altantek and Haasbroek… and made it clear he supports Mesa’s independence.” He looked at Revan. “Just like your wife.”
Revan winced, and Haden’s tail tucked in, ears splaying. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that… that explains why he’d help you get aboard in the first place, because you’re in the movement, but then turn on you because you support Haasbroek’s position. Or maybe your coyote had some dirt on him; he seems the type. I thought he was just a wrench-head thug, btu if he figured out your stance, it makes perfect sense he’d be a complete asshole to you. Which he has.” He paused, then added, “And everyone else.”
Revan made a face again, looking up. “Yeah, he’s psychotic. I’ve talked to him twice since I’ve been on board, and both times, it was him cornering me, wanting to know how I felt about independence. And then about staging a revolution and taking control on Mesa by force. He’s unpleasant.”
“But why…” Haden blinked as another piece clicked into place. “So he sabotaged the ship, and it started a fire that got out of control. And when people died, he’s trying to make it look like you’re responsible, and deflect attention from him. Since you don’t support his way of thinking about the thing on Mesa. He had access, he had a reason, and like you said, he’s nuts.”
Revan thought it over, then nodded. “Sounds reasonable, I suppose.”
Haden pushed up out of his chair. “We’ve got to tell the Captain. He can’t get away with this.”
Revan’s eyes widened and he sat up in alarm. “No, Haden, no you can’t do that! You can’t tell them what’s–”
The annunciator over the door chimed loudly, startling them both, and Captain Wright’s voice cut him off. “Chief Knox, report to the bridge immediately.”
Haden scowled and muttered a curse. “I’m coming, already!” he growled at the annunciator. “I’m getting really tired of her timing.” He held out a hand to Revan. “Come on, let’s go.”
#
Revan protested going with him, but Haden insisted that they had to talk to the Captain, and besides, he was supposed to report when Revan woke up. Haden tried to hurry, but Revan didn’t have magboots on, so he had to hold his arm and maneuver the serval through the passageways.
When they got there, the bridge was busy. Haden started with, “Crewman Knox reporting–” but Captain Wright cut him off with a wave, and pointed at a display over one of the bridge stations. An external camera view, looking forward from the engineering hull and showing part of the row of cargo containers bolted to the central hull structure and half the arc of the habitation ring–which was neatly framing a smaller spacecraft, some distance off.
That caught Haden by surprise. He ducked to the side to look out one of the large bridge ports, and sure enough, there she was. Moving slowly, closing on Pacienco under thruster power. Matching the much larger freighter’s three-quarters of the speed of light in deep interstellar space. The smaller ship was only a few dozen meters long, shaped more like a classical rocket ship, with an oversized powerplant and propulsion module tucked behind a heavy umbrella-shaped radiation shield.
“That’s a torch ship,” he said.
“Thank you for that analysis, Mister Knox,” replied the captain wryly. “Yes, she’s a torch courier, with no transponder.” She pointed at the display again. “Play it again.”
The bridge crewmember seated at the station–Elbert, the mule–tapped a few keys on his console and the image changed. Still the same view, but no courier. A few seconds in, there was a bright flash heralding the ship’s drop from FTL, facing them engines-first some distance off. As the ship closed in, she flipped smoothly to approach nose first, and deployed a communications antenna.
“Uh…” Haden felt his tail lower and his hackles start to rise slightly. “They’re not p–”
Wright cut him off again with another dismissive wave. “No, pirates don’t request permission to dock.”
Haden lowered his ears, feeling a bit silly. Space pirates were largely a thing of science fiction. The logistics of piracy simply didn’t work in space in the real world. “What do they want? Ma’am.”
“They said we have a couple of passengers they want to take off of our hands.” She turned to look at Revan.
Haden turned too. Revan was shrinking back away from them, as much as he could while floating in midair, reaching for something to hold onto.
“Are they here for you?” Haden asked.
Revan looked up at the screen, then glanced at Wright, before settling back on Haden. He nodded once, slightly. “I think so.”
Wright looked at Haden and narrowed her eyes. “You want to tell me what the hell is going on, Mister Knox?” Her professional demeanor was starting to crack, and that was a bad sign.
Hade glanced at Revan, then realized everyone on the bridge was looking at him. Revealing the saboteur aboard in front of everyone might not be the best idea. “Uh… can we speak in private, ma’am?”
Wright gave him a look, but she nodded and turned to one of the doorways leading off the bridge to the officers’ briefing room. She waved the Chief Mate over as well, and he closed the door behind them.
Haden started telling Wright what Revan had told him–or most of it, but Lopez interrupted, with the suggestion Revan tell it himself. Wright let him go on, uninterrupted, then asked a few terse questions for clarification, and the vixen’s scowl deepened, at least slightly, as the tale went on, and Haden supplied some of the speculation about Marks.
At the end, Wright crossed her arms, thinking. “That’s a hell of a tale, Mr. Smith. And a hell of an allegation coming from a stowaway revolutionary, if true.”
Revan curled his tail around his leg. “I don’t want to accuse Marks of anything, Ma’am. I only know the parts about myself are true.”
“But it makes sense, Ma’am,” Haden said. “He’s been–”
Wright raised a hand, cutting him off. She exchanged a look with Lopez. “Find Mister Marks and have him confined. I want to talk to him myself once he’s in custody.” She turned and walked back onto the bridge, Haden and Revan following, while Lopez disappeared through another doorway. “Mister Elbert, have our visitors made any move to force docking?”
“No ma’am. They’re closing at a steady three meters per second, coasting, range five-point-two-k. They haven’t maneuvered at all or called again yet.”
“Very well. Call them back and inquire as to what passengers they are intending to pick up. Conn, if they start maneuvering, take evasives. Do not let them attempt to dock.” She turned to Haden and Revan. “You two stay here for the moment. I want to know what’s going on before we decide on our next move.”
The call was answered promptly. “They’re looking for passengers named Revan Smith and… Anthony Marks,” reported Elbert. The mule looked over his shoulder. “They sent photos.” The screen over his station changed to display what appeared to be a mugshot of Revan and Marks’s Spacefarer’s Union identification photo.
“Well, then,” said Wright. “That clears that up.” She turned to Revan, giving him an appraising look. After a moment, she asked, “Will you be wishing to embark with our visitors, Mr. Smith?”
Revan folded one ear back uncertainly. “Will you be sending Marks over to them?”
“Not a chance,” Wright replied without even a hint of hesitation. “It appears that he may be directly responsible for the deaths of three of my crew, damage to my ship, and this ensuing unscheduled delay.” She narrowed her eyes at the serval. “You may be indirectly responsible as well. However, he is moreso and questions will rise if he’s not aboard at our next port of call, should we manage to make it here. And as I am rather disinclined toward the headaches your presence would undoubtedly cause upon our eventual arrival, I would, if I may be frank, prefer to encourage you to become someone else’s problem.”
Haden tried not to let his tail droop. He watched Revan think it over, then look back at the jackal. His eyes were questioning, but Haden forced his expression to stay neutral. Regardless of what he might want–and he wasn’t sure on that count–it did feel like the decision had to be wholly the serval’s.
Revan looked back at the captain and nodded once. “I should go with them. I have work to do on Mesa, and that was the entire point of this… trip.”
“Very well,” said Wright. “Mister Elbert, convey to our visitors that Mr. Smith will be joining them, but that crewman Marks will be remaining aboard to face charges.” She turned to Haden. “Please–”
She was interrupted by Elbert. “Captain, Lieutenant Lopez is calling… He says Marks fought back and is uh… momentarily evading capture.”
Wright scowled. “Send the message over, but tell them to await docking instructions–actually, belay that. Instruct them to dock with our forward airlock. Conn, bring us about for rendezvous. Mister Knox, I want you to take Mr. Smith to the forward airlock and wait there. When you get below deck–” meaning in the core tunnel running up the center of the ship “–advise me.”
“Begging your pardon, ma’am,” said Revan. “Marks just might be looking for me… and I’d really rather not have to face him again. I’m pretty sure he would, uh, do me harm if he found me.”
Wright nodded, canting her ears back. “I expect that’s so, Mr. Smith. In fact I’m counting on it. Lieutenant Lopez will meet you on the way.” She looked at Haden. “Mister Knox, if you would.”
#
“You’re using me as bait?!” Revan was nonplussed, and gave Haden a hurt look. “You can’t be serious!”
Lopez spoke soothingly, which seemed oddly uncharacteristic to Haden. “We’ll be right with you, you don’t need to worry. It’ll be three of us against one of him, and we have stunners.” He held up the meter-long stick in his long-fingered hand and pulled the trigger at the handle end; a crackling discharge arced across the forked terminals at the business end of the device.
Revan looked dubious, and Haden had to admit, he felt the same. He held his stunner awkwardly in one hand, supporting it horizontally with the other, careful to keep his fingers far away from the high voltage prongs. “I’ve never used one of these before, sir…”
Lopez started down the corridor, and the others followed. “It’s simple,” he said. “Keep a firm grip, poke your target firmly, and press the trigger.” He gave a jab and triggered the device again.
“Don’t you have… guns or something?” Revan asked nervously.
“No,” answered the iguana. “This is a freighter. Why would we have firearms aboard?”
It was fifty meters to the main airlocks in the bow, with a pressure bulkhead every ten. Haden closed and dogged each hatch as they passed. “So, we’re going to hide in the airlock until Marks shows up? Then jump out and stun him?”
“That’s the plan, yes,” said Lopez. “Here we are. Mr. Smith, you’ll stay just at the threshold of the airlock to be sure he sees you.”
Haden moved forward to swipe his access card and key in his access code to deactivate the airlock. Lopez could have done it as well, but as the bosun’s mate–rather now the bosun, he thought with a pang–it was a usual part of his duties. He spun the hatch dog and pulled the heavy door to swing it open.
He pulled himself into the airlock to check the outer door, then looking around to perform a cursory inspection, before pressing up to the bulkhead out of view beside the door. He stopped, scratching under his jaw for a moment.
“Sir, Marks fled earlier. If he sees just Rev–Mr. Smith by himself, alone, he may get suspicious. Maybe I should wait with him, in view. He’d expect to see me.”
“Good idea.” Lopez reached for Haden’s stunner, then changed his mind as the jackal held it out. “It makes sense for you to have the stunner, too. When he comes in, get out of his way, get behind him, stick him and zap if you can. Just… do not let him take that away from you. Mr. Smith, when he shows up, you back into the airlock, toward that corner, lure him in.” He tucked himself into the corner opposite the one he pointed out for Revan. “Good to go, gentlemen?”
Haden exchanged a dubious look with Revan. The serval nodded after a moment, and Haden replied. “Yes sir.”
“Very well.” He keyed the airlock intercom. “Captain Wright, Lopez. We’re ready.”
A moment later, the Captain’s voice came over the shipwide public address. “Crewman Knox and Mr. Smith, report to the bow airlock. I say again, Crewman Knox and Mr. Revan Smith, report to the bow airlock to disembark.”
That was that. Marks knew where to find them.
Haden nudged Revan. “You okay?” He moved a little closer to the serval.
Revan shook his head, then nodded, looking down. “Just kinda woozy still,” he said quietly. “And not thrilled about being used for bait.”
Haden glanced over his shoulder at the airlock, confirming that Lopez was still out of sight, and leaned closer to nose at the serval’s folded ear. “It’ll be all right. I won’t–we won’t let him get to you.”
Revan looked up, tucking his shorter muzzle under the jackal’s. He nodded, and Haden leaned back. “This has just been… a pretty wild few days.” The serval rubbed his forehead. “It’ll be nice to get home. Hopefully, I’ll get home.”
Haden didn’t reply, not sure what to say. He looked down the wide passageway, watching the hatch a few meters away. Elbert’s voice came over the compartment intercom to announce, “Docking contact in sixty seconds. Twenty meters and closing.”
Haden glanced over his shoulder, shifting his head around to look through the small porthole in the outer airlock door and get a look at the approaching courier.
He felt Revan stiffen and the feline’s tail brush against his leg as it lashed. He followed Revan’s eyes to the compartment hatch; there, though the porthole, he saw black stripes in orange fur, and yellow eyes. Marks.
The hatch dog spun, and the tiger pushed it open, hovering in the doorway for a moment, still wearing deactivated magboots. Haden tightened his grip on the stunner but didn’t raise it. Not yet.
“This is your fault, you know,” growled Marks, staring at Revan. The vicious intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down Haden’s spine. “A waste. No fight in you. All this, I did all this, for a fucking coward.” He spat, pausing, as if to let the accusation and his contempt sink in. “All this trouble for you, too scared to fight for your own world.” His next words sounded recited. “I Won’t Abide.”
Revan laid his ears back and straightened up. “No, Marks. You won’t compromise, you go straight to violence. You’re reckless, and if we let you have your way, innocent people are going to die. More of them. Thousands, not just the three–” A massive THUNK from outside the airlock sent a shudder through the compartment and he broke off, startled, to look over his shoulder.
Marks pulled his legs up into a tight crouch and snarled, kicking off the bulkhead. He shot across the compartment toward them; Revan was going to get blindsided. Haden passed the stunner to his left hand and shoved the serval into the airlock with the other. Marks swept a hand through the air, and Haden managed to just duck back far enough to avoid the exposed claws aimed at his face. He passed the stunner back to his right hand–and fumbled it.
Marks caught himself on the edge of the airlock and looked inside before entering, snarling again when he saw Lopez. Haden saw the end of the Chief Mate’s stunner come up, but the tiger smacked it away, reaching into the airlock to turn his claws on the lizard.
Haden grabbed for his stunner but fumbled it again, fingertips smacking the handle and sending it spinning until it bounced off the bulkhead and back toward him. He caught it with both arms, took hold of the handle and turned back to the airlock. Marks was smacking Lopez’s stunner away again, then reached to take another blow at the iguana…
Haden jabbed the pronged end of the stunner at the tiger and pressed the trigger. Electricity crackled and popped across the fork, and the points slid up the tiger’s rib cage and into his armpit. He yowled, but reflex jerked his elbow into his side, trapping the stunner.
Haden clenched his teeth and laid his ears back, and Lopez pressed his stunner up against the tiger’s chest. Floating backward until he was pressed up against the bulkhead, Marks’s body scrunched up, limbs at awkward angles, Haden’s stunner still trapped under his arm.
Haden thought of Carter and held the trigger down.
It wasn’t until Lopez curled long fingers around his wrist that he finally let go, ozone and singed fur and flesh stinging his nose. He breathed heavily, as if recovering from exertion, and his ears came back up, then splayed as he let go of the stunner, feeling dizzy.
Revan pushed out of the corner toward him, eyeing Marks’s unconscious form warily, catching himself on Haden and wrapping his arms around the jackal tightly. Lopez crouched down to zip restraints around the tiger’s wrists and ankles, then checked his pulse and made sure he was still breathing. Nobody spoke.
The sound of a fist banging on the airlock’s outer hatch snapped Haden out of his daze. Lopez moved over to look through to the other side, then keyed the intercom beside the door. “Stand by, please, we’ll be right with you.” He turned to Haden, lowering his voice. “Help me get him out of the airlock. Captain wants to keep him aboard. We don’t want to risk them seeing him and taking him.”
Haden nodded, gently disengaging from Revan’s embrace, and helped maneuver the tiger out of the airlock, grateful for the lack of gravity. The tiger was massive. They worked him through a hatch in the deck of the compartment outside, tucking him into the lower cargo airlock for safekeeping.
When they climbed back up, Haden stopped outside the airlock, facing Revan. The serval watched him quietly, tail tip curling and swishing by his ankles. Haden shuffled his feet, magnetic soles tapping on the deck plate, and he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Sir,” he said, looking up at Lopez. “May we have a moment?”
Lopez gave him a long, unblinking look, then merely nodded and stepped into the airlock, pulling the hatch partway shut behind him. Haden turned back to Revan searching for words.
The serval didn’t give him a chance. He seized Haden awkwardly by his coveralls and pulled himself closer, then wrapped his arms tightly around the jackal once again. Haden wrapped his arms around the serval, though not quite as tightly.
“I’m sorry,” he said, a little quaver in his voice. “Marks is right. It was my fault.”
“What? What are you talking about?” Haden looked down, but Revan lowered his muzzle, pressing his face against the jackal’s chest.
“If I wasn’t for me, none of this would have happened. Marks may have done it, but it was because of me. If I hadn’t been here, your friends would still be alive.” A clear droplet broke free from the serval’s cheek, drifting slowly away.
Haden frowned and leaned back, putting his hands on the serval’s cheeks and lifting his muzzle, looking down intently, though Revan kept his eyes closed tightly. “You aren’t responsible for him. Like you said, he’s reckless. He did… not what he was supposed to. That’s on him, not you. He could have taken a different route.”
Revan opened his eyes, looking up at Haden. Tears flooded across his eyes, splattering away when he blinked, and he half laughed, wiping them with one hand. “They really do just fill up, don’t they?”
Haden grinned, tail wagging, and he wiped his thumbs over the serval’s cheeks where tears were clinging in his dark fur, sending more droplets drifting away. “Yeah, they kind of do.”
“Am I ever going to see you again?” Revan asked the question abruptly.
Haden chewed the inside of his lip. “I don’t know… I guess I could ask the same. I’m just this bosun’s mate on a freighter. You’re a leader of the resistance.” He smiled, touching his nose to the serval’s.
Revan laugh-sniffed again. “I’m not a leader. I don’t know if I even want–no… no I have to. This can’t have been in vain.” He swallowed, standing up straighter and squeezing Haden in a hug again. “And you got promoted, remember. You’re big cheeze on this ship now.”
Haden laughed and shook his head. And for a moment, he reflected inwardly. He’d suspected the serval of being behind the sabotage, then thought him insincere about… keeping his company. The serval had even admitted to it, somewhat. But, he was fond of the feline, and Revan had no reason to play on his sympathies now.
“I don’t know,” he finally said. “Maybe someday. I’ll be on this ship for now, and you need to get onto yours.” He wrapped his arms around the cat again, hugging him tightly.
Revan clung to him in the hug, even prickling clawtips against his back, before loosening his hold. He pushed himself up on his toes and kissed him, closing his eyes. Haden swallowed, then parted his lips and returned the kiss, curling his tongue lightly past his teeth and closing his eyes. Mixed emotions washed through him–affection, desire, a touch of visceral lust, and a pang of sadness and grief at losing another so soon, all confused and mixed together unevenly.
He broke the kiss, swallowing and releasing his embrace. Revan loosened his arms, looking in his eyes again for a long moment, then nodded.
“I guess it’s time for me to go.”
“Yeah. I think they’re waiting.”
They turned to the airlock, Haden pulling it open, and Revan squeezed Haden’s hand before letting it go and pulling himself into the airlock, trying to dry his cheeks with the back of his hand.
Lopez looked over at them, dewlap fluttering slightly. He gestured to the outer hatch controls. “If you gentlemen are ready, the captain has given permission for you to disembark, Mr. Smith.” Revan took a deep breath and nodded. Lopez turned to Haden. “The door, Mister Knox?”
Haden swiped his access card and punched in his code, before knocking firmly on the hatch to alert those on the other side and pulling the heavy door open.
A wolf, a leopard, and a goat–obviously a career spacefarer, with his horns cropped short for wearing a space suit helmet–stood on the other side. Haden tensed for a moment, realizing the leopard was armed with a pistol, but it remained holstered, and none of the three moved to cross out of their airlock. All three settled their respective gazes on Revan, and the wolf beckoned him.
Revan turned his head to Haden. “Thank you,” he said. And then he pulled himself through and onto the other ship. The wolf nodded, and one of the other two pushed the hatch on their side shut. Haden couldn’t tell which; he was watching the white spots on the back of the serval’s ears until the hatch shut and sealed behind him.
#
Haden walked down the passageway, dressed in street clothes, a backpack strapped on to keep it from drifting and his duffel floating along beside him in zero-G again. This time, though, Pacienco was spun down because she was in port and docked. And this would be his last voyage as a member of her crew.
He reflected on the previous six months since what had come to be referred to as The Incident. The engineering department had managed to get the ship up and running again after a week, with a little help from a service vessel that had been willing to risk matching her sublight velocity. They’d arrived at their port and turned Marks over to the authorities; after his deposition he’d stopped following the proceedings related to the tiger. It has simply hurt too much. The ship had spent two weeks in drydock for repairs before resuming her regular freight lines. After two runs, they’d formally promoted him from acting to actual bosun, but one more trip after than and he was feeling restless.
It was a sensation he hadn’t known in years. And try as he might, he couldn’t shake it. So he’d resigned, and was taking his leave of the ship and her crew.
He stopped outside the main airlock, surprised to see Captain Wright and Chief Mate Lopez there. “Captain, Lieutenant, good evening.”
Wright still looked serious, but Lopez smiled at him, which surprised him even more. He honestly hadn’t been sure the iguana could smile–and it was a kind of weird smile, a little unsettling, but friendly.
“Sorry to see you go, Mister Knox,” said Wright. She extended a hand, and he shook it, then Lopez’s.
“Thank you, ma’am.” He put a foot on the strap of his duffel bag to keep it from drifting. “I… er, well, I guess I wasn’t expecting to see you come see me off. Thank you,” he said again. “It’s been an adventure.”
“I always come to send off members of the crew who’re leaving us,” said Wright.
“Especially those who will actually be missed,” added Lopez. “Your service with this crew has been exemplary. Chief Carter would have been proud.”
Haden tucked his tail down slightly at the mention of the Old Wolf, but smiled. “Thank you, sir. That means a lot to me.”
“Good luck, I’m sure you’ll have interesting times ahead.” Wright offered him a smile, too, an unusually warming of her normally serious expression. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” At a loss for what more to say, Haden stood up at attention. “Permission to disembark.”
Both officers straightened as well, and Wright replied. “Permission granted.”
Haden picked up his duffel and stepped through the airlock and into the station’s docking ring, absently tapping his fingers on the tablet in his pocket. Tomorrow, he’d get on another ship, as a passenger this time, to the research colony where he’d tracked his sister to. It was past time, he’d decided, to make up for all the time he’d spent away, or at least as much as he could in a couple of weeks.
And after that, another trip as a passenger, that one booked to Mesa.
He let himself hope he would find what–who–he was looking for, too.