The bridge of Nifan’s stealth ship remained strangely quiet, despite the raging holy war in the background. A legion of warring vessels swarmed around the Terramesh husk, like bees around a massive hive. Random explosions bathed the interior with an orange sheen. The occasional strike on the exterior shield sent a wash of static around the ship.
But none of it mattered.
The wrath on Nifan’s face filled the chamber with dread. Even Lord Essien gave her plenty of space to spontaneously combust, should it come to that. Clawed hands pulsed with pure venom. Heated breaths escaped a gaping mouth, like a panting gorilla. Cobalt eyes widened to a fury point that no one else in the room had ever witnessed. Her frenzied gaze tore into Ross, still sitting upon the cube.
The feline winked and smiled back.
“You underhanded son of a cock!” Nifan said. “That was my work! Mine and mine alone! How dare you steal it away like a common thief!”
Essien clutched her hand, but Nifan yanked it back. The shoulder of her dress slipped down her arm, but the hatred kept her from noticing. Strands of white hair unraveled and departed, giving her an Einstein coiffure. Her crafted grace evaporated into a coked-out prom date as she rant-walked towards the feline.
Ross cocked an ear back.
“You just fucked with the wrong space bitch,” she said in a grating voice. “I, Orantha Nifan, the goddamn Dossier, just annihilated 80 planets with a wave of my—”
“86,” Ross said.
Nifan halted mid-step. “What?”
“86 planets. But hey, math is hard.”
Nifan shrieked with rage and rushed at the feline.
Max leapt into action and tackled her from the side just before she reached Ross, sending them both crashing to the ground. Essien scurried over to help, but found herself in a Zoey head-lock. Max pinned Nifan to the floor, climbed on top, and started wailing on her face. Perra grabbed a table leg and hurried over to Zoey. Essien managed to flip Zoey off her back, only to receive a spinal smash from Perra. She fell to all fours, gasping and panting. Zoey scrambled to her feet and kicked Essien across the cheek, spurting blood and knocking her out cold. Max continued her windmill assault on Nifan’s face. She reared back for another hit, but Perra nabbed her wrist.
“We still need her,” Perra said.
Max nodded and climbed to her feet.
Nifan coughed and wheezed as blood poured from her nose and mouth. Her eye began to swell, darkening an ashy complexion. Red splatters stained her silky dress. She rolled off to the side and hacked bloody saliva onto the floor. Max loomed over Nifan with reddened fists, painting her with a sinister shadow.
“That was badass,” Ross said as he trotted over.
Max studied her gory hands. “Thanks, I guess.”
“You guess? What’s wrong?”
“I dunno. Even under the circumstances, it feels wrong to hit a woman.”
“But you are a woman.”
Max glanced at her breasts, then grinned and squeezed them together. “Oh yeah. In that case, it felt fantastic.”
Perra responded with a don’t want to know head shake. She hooked Nifan by the armpits and pulled her to her feet. Nifan stumbled against a nearby wall and stamped it with red palm prints. She wiped her mouth on her forearm and glared back at Perra.
“You think you’ve won?”
“I think you got your ass kicked.”
Nifan sneered in response, then spat a dollop of blood at her feet. “You forget your place, whore. You’re on my ship with my rules. Tatia! Get—”
Zoey pinned Nifan against the wall and pressed a blade to her neck, one of the fruit carvers from the bar. “If the next words out of your filthy mouth aren’t ‘prep the freighter for departure,’ then there won’t be any more words.”
Nifan scowled at the Mulgawat, then sighed.
The elevator ride down to the hangar reached a whole new level of awkwardness. Nifan stood front and center with wrists bound and hair unbound. She donned a mauled yet miffed expression. Zoey stood directly behind her, holding the blade at her throat. Perra stood to one side with Ross in her arms. The cat purred under a series of gentle strokes, as if nothing were amiss. Max stood on the other side. Her face carried a distressed expression and a few red splatters, like the lone survivor of a horror movie. Everyone, minus Ross, stared straight ahead while a pleasant melody played in the background. Ross stared intently at Nifan’s face and batted at each drop of blood that fell from her nose.
“I’m going to murder you all,” Nifan said.
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, revealing the scuffed floor of the service bay tunnel. Zoey lowered the blade and nudged Nifan in the back. She floated into the corridor, doing her best to rekindle some swank beneath a battered exterior. Nifan led the group down a hallway and into the near-empty hangar. Tools and cargo boxes littered the floor, the remnants of a hasty departure. Plasma streaks and missiles zipped by the transparent barrier as Durflocks and Boobyborks battled over ferret allegiance. Nifan sighed and shook her head like a disappointed mother watching a sibling scuffle. Off to the far side, the tiny freighter rested in wait, detached from its shackles.
Out of nowhere, Migg and his Ripper tore through the barrier, filling the hangar with a fiery roar. The vessel swept around the room and clunked to the ground with a clumsy landing. Henry and his fighter followed suit, opting for a less than stellar entry. His triangular ship smacked the floor and skidded to a halt, spraying sparks and grinding metal. Both airlocks opened at the same time, revealing the tearful faces of rivals turned lovers. Henry and Migg ran to each other in the galactic equivalent of a soap opera reunion (sans slow motion). Migg’s tiny legs blurred under his purple suit. Henry’s beefy frame thumped the ground with each stride, his sunken eyes wet with heartache. They met in the empty space between ships. Henry dropped to his knees and Migg leapt into the embrace. They wept with joyful remorse.
“Aw,” Perra said. “That’s so sweet.”
“Traitors!” Nifan said, sending a harsh echo around the chamber.
Henry and Migg flinched at the sudden shout, unaware of the company. Their sorrow morphed into disgust as they broke the embrace and stomped towards the group. Nifan hardened her stance as they closed in. Henry thundered to a stop and loomed over his master with a vicious gaze. Migg huffed and crossed his arms, his mustache wriggling with anger. Nifan stood tall, fighting to suppress a quivering lip. Henry heaved and panted like a rabid bull. He balled a fist, reared back, and hammered down with the full force of his mighty frame. Nifan recoiled from the hit, but found herself on the losing end of a giant middle finger.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuck you!” Henry said in his high-pitched squeaky voice.
Ross burst into laughter.
The rest snorted and snickered.
Henry waved his finger around the group, then turned away and tramped towards a small jump shuttle with Migg in tow. Hull thrusters ignited, lifting the ship onto pillars of blue flame. Henry glared through the viewport and flipped another finger before kicking the vessel through the barrier and disappearing into the black.
“Such an adorable couple,” Perra said.
“Listen and listen well,” Nifan said as she turned to face the group. Her brow tightened with rage. “The day may be yours, but a new war has begun. Your actions have opened wounds that cannot heal without a river of blood. Make no mistake, for each of you has signed a death warrant. I will not rest until I have looked each and every one of you in the eye and thrust my blade into—”
Zoey nailed her chin with a savage uppercut. The strike took Nifan off her feet and sprayed a mist of blood. She flew through the air like a ragdoll and smacked the hangar floor. Her brain tapped out before flesh hit metal, leaving her body in a twisted pile.
“Oh, she’s definitely killing you last,” Ross said.
“I imagine so,” Zoey said as she shook the sting from her knuckles.
“Why not just cap them both right now?”
“Can’t,” Perra said. “If we’re going to survive this, we need the full support of Loken and the PCDS.”
“Exactly,” Zoey said. “Killing a nut job like Halim is one thing, but capping a kingpin is grounds for banishment. Like Nifan said, the PCDS has no jurisdiction. Our rep is the only thing that keeps us breathing.”
A missile slammed into the shield, jostling the ship. Max yelped as she stumbled to the floor and smacked her bum. Ross flared his stance like a nervy skydiver. Zoey fought for balance, then turned to Perra.
“Spin up for departure, jump drive and all.”
Perra nodded and jogged towards the freighter.
Max and Ross followed.
Zoey took one final look around the hangar and brought up the rear.
A no-look wall slap closed the airlock as Zoey bounded into the ship. She snatched a pair of plasma pistols from a wall locker and hurried into the cockpit, tossing a skeptical gaze at Max and Ross along the way.
“Shit, that’s right,” Max said.
“Mhmm,” Ross said. “You still need to reset this whole charade.”
Max glanced around the cargo bay. “I guess I could just run into a wall or something.”
“Not now, dumbass. You’re still on Nifan’s cruiser. You could wake up as a dock worker.”
“Or a sex slave.”
“Yeah, to Henry.”
Max grimaced and shivered.
“First things first, let the orange spark plugs get us the hell out of here. Once we are free and clear, we can worry about your next log jammer.”
“You mean log sawer.”
“No, I do not.”
Ross trotted up the corridor and into the cockpit where Zoey and Perra speed-prepped for launch. Max adjusted her wayward thong in a very unsexy way and followed Ross into the cabin. She dropped into the passenger seat behind Perra and strapped in for the ride.
“Don’t get too comfy, Maxine,” Zoey said while flicking some overhead switches. “Once we’re out of this mess, we’re dumping you at the nearest port.”
“But we saved your lives,” Max said.
“No, the fuzzball saved us. You’re just the filthy Veiled Trader who wailed on a bitch who deserved it.” She paused to lock eyes with Max. “We’re letting you live as a kindness, so best take it as such and shut your trap.”
Max turned to Ross. “No respect, dude.”
Ross huffed. “Does shut your trap mean talk to the cat in your brain? I swear, it’s like you’re genetically programmed to undermine your own self-interests.”
Perra chuckled and grinned at Zoey. “I like the cat. Can we keep ‘em?”
Zoey shrugged and slapped the thrusters icon. “As long as he doesn’t turn into a giant purple ferret.”
The tiny freighter rumbled to life and hovered on pillars of blue flame. The landing gear retracted as the ship angled towards the entry barrier. Random debris bounced around the hangar. The silky fabric of Nifan’s soiled dress fluttered in the exhaust. She began to stir on the ground as Zoey ignited the main engines and kicked the vessel forward. It sliced through the barrier and into the chaotic battle already in progress.
Durflock and Boobybork ships swarmed the area, firing upon each other with a cold ferocity. Suth’ra orbs peppered the battle, zotting every unfortunate vessel that got in their way. A torrent of missiles screamed by and slammed into a cruiser, forcing Zoey to barrel roll away and push towards the Terramesh. Gasps filled the cabin as the full scene came into view. The incursion carried a weight of anarchy, a dog-eat-dog slaughter where any kill was a good kill. After all, the omnipotent Banjo Ferret had appeared to the proletariat, injecting the Ferretian ships with a reckless ferocity.
“Holy mother of Tim,” Perra said.
“I don’t have a mother,” Ross said.
“What the hell are you?” Zoey said, her curiosity briefly skirting the desire to live. An ion blast clipped the freighter, causing her to adjust course and dive beneath a warship.
“It’s a long story.”
“Are you a god?” Perra said.
“Do you really want to have this chat right now?”
“Ross!” Max said with a hint of bother. “When someone asks you if you’re a god, you say yes!”
Ross turned to Max, then howled with laughter.
Max followed suit, shedding tears and slapping knees.
Zoey tossed Perra a puzzled glance before whipping the ship around a squadron.
Perra leaned forward and scanned the chaos. “Can we not jump to a peripheral or something?”
“No,” Zoey said as she darted through a dogfight. “Too many ships, can’t risk a collision. We need to reach the edge first, then we can—”
A giant explosion rocked the ship from behind, jostling the frame and shaking everyone inside. Alerts sounded and sirens blared, filling the cockpit with blinking red lights. A debris field zipped by the viewport. Perra tapped across the console to assess the damage.
“Not our hit,” Zoey said, pointing to a chunk of severed wing. “Secondary impact.”
“That explains the lack of target lock,” Perra said.
Zoey silenced the shrieking alarms while Perra scanned the console output.
“Critical systems okay. Guidance shook, but functional. Shit! Jump drive offline.”
“Screw the rest, we need the jump.”
“On it.” Perra unbuckled her harness, leapt to her feet, and shot down the corridor.
Max also sprang into action. She unbuckled her harness, hooking Zoey’s attention.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“To help Perra. I’m her intern, remember?”
“And why would she remember that?” Ross said.
Max sighed. “You know, this whole thing is a perplexing pain in the crack. I’m going to be so happy when I pass out and they’re my friends again.”
Zoey replied with a narrowed gaze.
“Just ignore her,” Ross said, adding an eye roll. “But on the other hand, Max does have machining experience with M-class freighters. She can actually help.”
Zoey fought through her hesitation, then nodded.
Max grinned and hurried down the tunnel.
Ross leapt into the co-pilot chair and spun around a few times before taking a seat. He dug his claws into the leather and started grooming his chest.
Zoey grumbled. “I just had those reupholstered.”
“So bill me.”
“And where should I send the invoice? 42 Ferret Lane in the Imagod System?”
“Shut up, Ray.”
“Ray?”
“It’s a Ghostbusters reference.”
“What’s Ghost—”
“Stop yapping and mind the road. It was funny the first time.”
Back in the engine room, Perra snapped a tool belt to her waist and rushed around a tangled mess of components. The cramped quarters housed sophisticated machinery inside a military-grade frame, not the easiest to service. Perra poked and prodded the jump drive, a complex retrofit that utilized the tiny freighter shell. She had built it herself, but even she struggled to make sense of the structure.
Max sprinted through the cargo bay and swung around the machine room doorframe. “Yo!”
Perra yelped and dropped the wrench in her hand. She palmed her chest and gasped for breath as the tool clanked to a rest upon the grimy floor. “Jeez, give me a heart attack why don’t you.”
“Sorry, just here to help.”
“Help?” Perra reached down and snatched the wrench from the floor. “What makes you think you can help?”
“Because we—” Max huffed. “I worked with a friend in an M-class freighter.”
Zoey banked hard, tossing Max and Perra into the wall. They grimaced and stumbled to regain balance. Perra gave Max a leery look, then sighed.
“Fine,” she said. “Grab a flashlight from the—”
Max plucked a flashlight from a nearby cubby before she could finish the sentence.
Perra raised an eyebrow, then got back to work.
They tackled the problem head-on with Perra checking the housing while Max studied the feeds. Panels and parts rained to the floor as they dove deeper and deeper into the system. Random banks and turns bruised elbows and cued choice curses. Perra unlatched a wiring panel and groaned after checking all the connections. Max’s legs swung from a narrow cubby like a botched prison escape. Perra wiped her greasy brow and sighed.
“Got it!” Max said, her voice muffled from inside.
Perra perked and rushed over. “What did you find?”
“Looks like the primary routing circuit got cooked, likely a blast surge.”
“Shit. We don’t have a replacement for that line.”
Max’s legs slacked.
Perra barked with frustration and kicked the wall.
Inside the compartment, Max glanced around a mess of wires and feeds. She recalled the time in the Ripper when she and Ross restored the life support system. Max chewed on her cheek while studying a complex array of connectors. Moments later, a sudden realization widened her eyes. “Yo! Can Zoey pilot with one engine?”
Perra tilted her head. “I’m listening.”
“The drives use different feeds and voltage, but rely on the same connections. The build won’t be as strong, but at least you can power it up. This assumes, of course, that Zoey can keep us alive with one can.”
Perra nodded while running a mental calculation, then grunted and clapped with approval. “Make it happen. I’ll let Zoey know.”
Max grinned and began rewiring the components. Perra relayed the plan, caught some flack, pushed back with the threat of a sex embargo, and won over Zoey. Max completed the task and shimmied out from the cubby. The drive meters pinged with power and the jump core started to replenish its energy. The gauges climbed slower than usual, but did so at a steady pace. Max pumped her fists and met eyes with an impressed Perra.
“Nicely done, Earthling.”
“Thanks. I trained under the best.”
They indulged in a crisp high five before getting tossed into the wall again.
“On that note,” Perra said, “let’s get the hell out of here.”
Perra rushed out of the engine room and up towards the cockpit with Max in tow. They staggered through the cargo bay as if drunk on a sailboat. After a few slips and bumps, they arrived at the cockpit corridor.
Perra gripped the wall and turned to Max. “Follow me,” she said and ducked inside the guest cabin.
Max nodded, then hooked the frame and swung inside. A smile lifted her cheeks as she glanced around the familiar quarters, but the grin inverted when Perra buried a fist into her stomach. Max dropped to the cold metal floor like a sack of rocks. As she gasped for breath, Perra retrieved a pair of handcuffs and latched one end to Max’s wrist. She yanked her over to the bed and latched the other end to the sturdy frame. Max coughed and wheezed before locking eyes with a resolute Perra.
“What the hell?”
“Thanks for the patch, but I still don’t trust you.” Perra stood to leave.
“Wait! Wait!” Max said, still trying to catch her breath. “Just do me one favor.”
Perra crossed her arms.
“Could you, um ... punch me in the face as hard as you can?”
Perra snort-chuckled. “With pleasure.” She reared back and clocked Max across the cheek, knocking her out cold.
Max hung from the frame like a hazing gone wrong.
Perra returned to the cockpit and plucked Ross from the co-pilot seat. Under a hail of hisses and scratches, she tossed him into the guest cabin with Max and locked the door. The jump drive pinged with full charge as she plopped back into her rightful seat. After a hasty re-buckle, she concluded with a heavy sigh.
“Strong work,” Zoey said.
“Thanks,” Perra said with a wearied tone that screamed so done with this adventure.
A final dip and dive opened a clean patch of black.
“About damn time,” Zoey said.
She slapped the jump icon and the freighter disappeared into a sliver of purple light.