February 8, 818A.S.
At least, that’s what it sounded like in my head. I was aware of my body being dragged by a heavy-handed thug across the grooved metal floor plates of the station’s hallway. Moments later, I was suddenly airborne, and the weightlessness of my flight tempted me to fall unconscious, the throbbing in the back of my recently battered head slipping away. Then, as quickly as it had begun, my flight ended, with the cold and rusty floor of this whack job’s blood-stained cargo bay. I rolled onto my back and sat up listlessly, blinking repeatedly to regain my vision as I attempted to gather my surroundings.
Yeah, it was a slaver cargo hold, there was no mistaking it. You shove a bunch of men and women into a rickety, cold, irradiated piece of crap floating and swiveling around in space for a good while and they’ll do whatever you say—so long as you get them out of that god forsaken hell hole. Of course, I had no plans to stick around, at least not for long. For me, getting tossed into the cargo bay was probably one of the best things that could have happened to me.
Prior to my current predicament, I should mention that I had intended on being captured all long. Now I’m not insane, but I wasn’t planning on tracking these guys back to their headquarters without a damned good escape plan, but I could at least scrap one of their trade ships. Rarely someone starts at the top, and even when they do, it’s likely they’ll fall and have to start from the bottom like the rest of us.
I had followed a Bactrian around the edges of New York until it finally slipped into the Badlands. They were doing a pick-up run, they had no cargo onboard. Chances were I had been tipped off correctly, so I followed the ship into the cloud and after some travel, docked at Buffalo base.
Herds of Buffalo
It was surprisingly well kept for its location, but it was still a drag. I had docked shortly after the Bactrian and I noticed that they were already preparing to move a lot of people, most likely the slaves I was after. I tried to play it cool, despite all the looks I was getting, and decided to chill in the hangar until I knew what they were doing. I had a couple of things in mind for liberating the slaves, and shooting the ship to pieces was not one of them.
I wandered around the base a little to pass the time, waiting for an opportunity to reach the Bactrian unnoticed. Avoiding the bar was probably smart, even as grim-faced as I was I certainly didn’t look like a rogue. Maybe next time I’ll show up with an Outcast mask full of orange juice, that ought to do the trick. Yeah, right.
My waiting paid off, and after only twelve minutes of idle wandering the hangar was empty. The opportunity was short, but it was all I had. With as much effort as possible, I made my way to the Bactrian without running or speed-walking, rather deciding to take very long but not awkward strides. When I was at the cargo loading bay, I made a dash for the loading garage.
Oddly enough, I found that the door had not been re-locked, probably because they were about to leave and had no fear of stray slaves or thieves. Just my luck I thought, as I made my way into the cargo hold as quietly as possible. If I were to sneak on board, it would be likely that a guard would catch me executing my plan and I would be ejected into space without a second thought. I needed the element of surprise, and this was it.
I planted my equipment next to a rickety piece of scrap in the corner. I felt bad for the slaves, I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have that thing bashing around on the inside of the cargo bay while the ship was in flight, helplessly bound to the walls as it threatened each of them with a slow and painful death by extreme blunt trauma. They rattled their chains at me and began to make a ruckus, but all I could do was work as quickly as possible. I had no way to assure them that I would be able to save them, and I’m sure in their fear I looked as much like a rogue as anybody else did in this situation.
After securing my things to the floor, I slipped back out of the ship and thought I had done so quietly. Before I could make it to the end of the walkway leading back to the other parts of the station, two goons walked over to the door and folded their arms. It was like a pair of bouncers paid specifically to block ugly people from entering a dance, but this time they were the ugly ones keeping the pretty girls out.
I raised my arms in a friendly manner, already the generic speech I had prepared earlier coming to my lips. Before I even had a chance to utter the first syllable though, there was a sudden loud bang inside my head as I what I would assume was a metal bar came into contact with the back of my skull. At this point, we’ve come full circle.
Amateur Stealth Mission
I walked past the countless slaves, who shook their manacles at me and warned me of the fate I had made for myself. I ignored them and assured myself that we would all make it out of here, dead or alive. Dead was better than the years of servitude I would have to put up with if this all went down the wrong pipe.
My gear was still tucked away in the corner under the loose scrap metal, and I was again thankful for my luck. Among the things I had brought aboard was an evo-suit, magnetic clasp gloves, a modified revolver, and enough plastic explosives to blast a hole open in Prison Station Fairbanks. I just wished I had brought some aspirin or something because my head felt like it had cracked open. Hell, maybe it had, and the adrenaline had just kept me from noticing until now. Either way, I had to work quickly.
Without hesitation I slipped on the suit, using the scrap to keep myself concealed as a guard entered the cargo bay to check on the slaves. I knew they didn’t really care what the prisoners did, but if they were to somehow get out, possibly by means of a saboteur, things could get nasty before the ship even landed. I didn’t have to be quiet as the cargo hold was already full of the sound of rattling chains, and even if I tripped I probably wouldn’t be noticed unless the guard was looking right at me.
I kept an eye on the guard, constantly peeking my head out of the makeshift fort in in the back of the ship. At this point we had started moving, and I had to make my move soon lest I never see the light of the stars again. It took a lot of patience, but the guard eventually left to do who knows what. Probably get a dose of Cardamine and ruin his whole life, poor sap. Lucky for him since after I was done here, he wouldn’t get the chance to endure such an unfortunate fate.
I jogged to the door at the end of the hold, and it was locked. I had a feeling this would happen and so I checked my revolver. Seven gigantic rounds, four armor piercing and three anti-personnel filled the chambers. I adjusted the cylinder a little so my first shot would be an anti-personnel round, and the next two would be the same. I had intended only to use one or two armor penetration rounds on this whole trip and let space do the rest, but my luck had its limits.
Doorway to Hell
I banged on the door, which immediately garnered the attention of the slaves in the cargo bay. They all went completely silent, and I felt their eyes burning against my back expectantly. I kept banging and making as much of a ruckus as possible until the door slid open, and I found myself banging the chest of a burly man with a rifle that looked like it could kill an army in a single shot.
No sooner had I slipped around the corner did he fire, launching a volley of charged plasma through the spacious cargo hold. It smashed into the back end of the room with a loud bang, and the cargo hold erupted in screams. It was like taking the first few steps down into hell, their voices echoing through the whole ship like the souls of the damned.
The guard was apparently caught off-guard by this, ironically, and I took the opportunity to stick my hand around the corner and blow him off his feet. Six rounds left I told myself, and took a quick glance around the corner. It was empty, but it wouldn’t stay that way with all this noise. I stuck the gun in my holster and took a few quick strides down the hallway, getting as close to the other end as possible.
I didn’t make much ground before the door at the end opened up, and as I raised my gun the door immediately closed again. I kept my gun trained on the door and worked with one hand, planting the explosives I had smuggled aboard to the roof of the hallway. I only hoped the outer hull wasn’t too thick.
As soon as I had finished setting the trigger, the door opened up again and I heard the sound of spinning. It was a laser minigun with a metal shield, and they had pushed it up to the door to entrap me and ensure my death. Once again, luck was on my side, as I knew the minigun would wedge the door open and doom the operator, along with everyone else in the room he was in. Before the first bolt of energy could fire I took a dive, and squeezed the detonator.
The force of the blast was mostly contained by the charge, just as I had anticipated, but I still felt the rush of the blast wave wash over me temporarily before the room was violently vacuumed into space. I was already wearing my evo-suit, and was immune to the biting cold and lack of oxygen that quickly pervaded the room, but the dummies at the end of the hallway were not so lucky.
Space, the Final Frontier
The shield on the mini-gun bent itself out of shape and was propelled down the hallway and out into the emptiness of space, following the corpse of the first guard I had offed. Quickly following were up to three Liberty Rogues and/or Outcasts, I couldn’t tell and I didn’t really get a great chance to count as I gripped the floor panels for dear life. Eventually, the room was completely still, and the gravity panels had stopped functioning.
I pushed myself away from the floor and immediately glided over to the hole, climbing out onto the exterior of the ship. I didn’t have a lot of time to work, as entering a jump-hole or jump-gate at this point would ensure my death as I was tossed into the infinite gravity well of sub-space and promptly compressed into the size of a neutrino within a nanosecond. Just like the worry and dread clambering up my spine, I began my crawl across the outer hull of the Bactrian.
We were in Cortez, which threw me off a little. I had no idea where this ship was even heading, but I didn’t have a lot of time to think about it either. Making my way across the massive hull, I finally reached the cockpit. Grinning to myself, I slid onto the front of the viewport and waved. The pilot expressed his confusion, and then terror, as I pointed my gun at the screen of the cockpit.
That’s when I fumbled. Before I could pull the trigger, I remembered that I had only used one anti-personnel round, and I quickly attempted to rotate the cylinder. The pilot however, was more prepared, and immediately swerved the ship sideways. I almost lost my gun, but more importantly, I almost lost my grip as well, and found myself sliding towards the side of the cockpit, the threat of slipping off and becoming lost to space quickly making itself much more prominent.
My magnetic gloves were as credible as I was told though, and I stopped just at the edge as I clamped my fingers around the edge of the viewport. My gun was ready, and I prepared myself for the pilot to veer the ship in an attempt to shake me again. And once again, my patience paid off.
I was flung sideways over the front of the cockpit, and during the passing I shot repeatedly into the viewport. After the third round, the reinforced glass broke, and the fourth caused the entire thing to cave in. The exchange in pressure caused me to switch places with the oxygen in the room, while simultaneously ejecting the pilot and his partner. The gravity panels were still on though, and I crashed clumsily into the front of the ship and rolled until I smacked against the cabin door.
Grand Theft Spacecraft
Even though I was sore now, and my head was still pounding, the hard part was over. I pushed myself onto my feet and slogged over to the dashboard as exhaustion rolled over my body. I reset the course of the ship to Planet Curacao, and after some complications with landing the piece of junk without burning up as we entered the atmosphere, I was eventually planet side, unloading the slaves myself.
The police asked me what I planned to do without a ship. I had left my makeshift piece of junk Starflier at Buffalo, as I had no intention of ever returning. After some thought, I finally figured out what I would do. I told them to fix the cockpit.
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