Ripples in Space (Part 5)

Ed was cut off as the blast from the cannon exploded across the ship's windscreen. Judging by his lack of immediate and painful death, the windscreen held, barely. Ed had been thrown out of his seat by the force of the shot and hauled himself back into it, bringing the targeting periscope down to his eyes.

"Ed?" asked Dave, frantically slapping buttons and throwing levers on the control console.

"What? I'm a bit busy right now," responded Ed, doing his own bit of technical fiddling as he set the power levels for his return fire.

"This is one of those wiles of piracy I was warning you about. Getting shot at by a Class III Neutrino defense cannon isn't all that fun," he said as he transitioned into frantic switch flicking.

"Yeah, but you know what is?" asked Ed.

"What?"

Ed smiled and squeezed down on the firing levers. Twin blasts erupted from the nose of Molon Labe, lighting up the cockpit for a brief moment before slamming into the defense cannon, tearing it to shreds in a ball of fire.

"That."

"Yes, very fun. We'll just add domestic terrorism to that rap sheet, shall we?"

"Hey, when you decked the guard outside my dorm with that confounded wrench of yours-"

"Do not insult Piper!"

Parsee leaned her head in the cockpit. 

"You two wanna finish arguing in a Fed work camp? Or a mass grave? If not, let's focus on running."

"Right you are," said Dave, gunning both the ground and wing thruster throttles to propel the ship away from the station. His hands went to his pockets and he quickly whipped out a cigarette and lighter. This earned him a sidelong glance from Ed.

"What?" he said, deftly flicking the lighter open and lighting the cigarette. "I'm stressed." Ed removed his hand from the periscope long enough to wave it dismissively at Dave.

"Yeah, yeah, smoke, I don't care. Just fly." Dave gave him a mock salute and returned to the controls.

Ed brought his eyes back to the periscope and found that they revealed three small gunships streaking out from a hangar about forty kilometers to their left. Ed strained to see farther through the periscope. He was rewarded with a glimpse of blue handprints on the sides of the ships.

"Holy shit, Blue Hands. If we get out of this," he muttered.

The gunships hurtled toward Molon Labe as her ground thrusters labored to push her farther away from the station. They were long, pale-blue ovoids with two guns on each side. One man sat in the front of the vessel as a pilot and the other roughly fifty feet away as the gunner. About five kilometers away from Molon Labe they started shooting at her. Their blasts were relatively low powered so the damage they dealt was superficial for the time being. But, Ed could hear, see, and feel Molon Labe's defenses beginning to fall. 

He swiveled in his chair to see the gunships out of the periscope.

"Dave! Bring us around, they're out of swivel range." 

"Righto, boss!" Dave leaned on the wheel to starboard, bringing Molon Labe head-on with the enemy. The lead ship fell right into Ed's crosshairs. A grin crept across his face as he depressed the firing levers. 

A full volley soared away from Molon Labe. The red beams crashed across the front of the ship, sending up a spray of smoke and bits of metal. 

"Direct hit," Ed muttered to himself. Then the ship pulled through the cloud. Ed paled and pulled back from the scope.

"Dave, change of plans. Get us the hell out of here."

"No can do, boss. I may not know much about the Fed military, but I know ships. Those are        Viper-Fighters and they'll chase us down and tear us to pieces." The ships drew closer.

"Then what're we supposed to do?" Ed asked. Then, a thought struck him. "Dave, get me comms to the flagship. We're surrendering."

*****

"This is the pilot of Molon Labe hailing Blue Hand Leader. We surrender."

"We read you, Molon Labe. How many on your ship?"

"Three, including the kid."

"Molon Labe, prepare to be boarded and arrested." Dave switched off the outgoing comms and exited the cockpit. In the common area, everyone except for Pixie and Dave was readying a gun.

"Correct me if I'm wrong Ed, but aren't there three Blue Hand ships out there?"

"Yes, there are."

"Then how are we supposed to get away? Even if we killed the pilot and the gunner, that still leaves two gunships."

"Yes, it does."

"So, I repeat, how are we supposed to get away."

"We'll come to that once the boarding party is dealt with." As he finished his statement, they all heard the clunk of the Blue Hand attaching itself to the airlock. He, Kizzvell, Parsee, and Stavers quickly ran up and put their backs to wall with the airlock. Dave and Pixie stood in front of the hatch, their hands raised in the air.

The hatch swung open, revealing two men in beigeish, stocky, spacesuits and sleek, black steel helmets with upside-down blue handprints on them. The helmets each had a strip of tinted glass in front that gave no indication of what the Blue Hands were thinking. Each of them had a pulse rifle leveled before them. The one on the right spoke,

"Where's the third?" His voice sounded tinny and robotic through the helmet.

"He's asleep, down that way," Dave said, pointing to his left.

"Six, watch these two." Six nodded and the other man started to walk down towards the berths. He cracked Dave across the face with his rifle as he passed. 

"He's asleep, down that way, sir," he said, angrily. He went to raise the rifle again, but he was stopped by Parsee ramming the butt of her rifle into the side of his head. Kizzvell and Ed lunged at Six. Kizzvell tried to put him in a headlock, but he flipped Kizzvell over his head and slammed him into Stavers. Ed tried the same and received a kick to the chest, dropping back. Six adopted a defensive postion, though he was quickly pulled off his feet by Kizzvell. Ed jumped on him, trying to hold him down, but he backed up quickly, crushing Ed between himself and the wall. He reared back again, but Dave bashed the newly christened Piper across his face. Crack! went the visor as Six tumbled to the floor once more. Stavers picked himself up only to jump on Six immediately and repeatedly beat his helmeted head into the ground.

However, Parsee was having problems with the other man. The two were now wrestling on the ground over Parsee's gun. The Blue Hand took his left hand off the gun and delivered three rapid punches to Parsee's side. She grunted in pain, but muscled through it, planting both her booted feet in the Blue Hand's chest, bodily flipping him over. It was a temporary respite though, as he rolled over and charged Parsee, catching her around the waist and slamming her into a table. He rained blow after blow on her head, chest, and stomach, obviously attempting to beat her to death. This turned out to be a mistake as three hundred pounds of insectoid fury descended on him. Blue Hand exposure suits were meant to withstand a certain amount of trauma, but nothing could prepare the man for Kizzvell's unbridled rage.

He slumped slowly to the floor, blood dripping through the cracks in his faceplate and through the mouthpiece. Ed whipped out his F-6 and the revolver and held them on each Blue Hand

"Stand down. I don't want to kill anyone," he said. Six immediately paused, but the man on the ground hesitated. Then, in a flash, he lunged for one of the dropped pulse rifles. Ed put at least four blasts into his chest before he even got his finger to the trigger. 

"Shit, now we gotta worry about that." He turned his guns on Six. "Now, Six, was it?" Six nodded. His helmet obscured his face, but they could hear his labored breathing. "Six, you're going to do us a favor. Hold him Kizzvell." Kizzvell easily pinned the man's arms behind his back.

"Why would I help you?" Six asked. Ed stared at him for a moment.

"Are you really asking that of a man holding two guns on you?"

"Yes. Do you have any idea what the Federation will do to me if I help you? I'd be better off if you just shot me now."

"You would. Which is why, if you refuse, I will remove your spacesuit, chuck you into the airlock, and watch you die slowly as I gradually deprive you of oxygen. Or you can help us, in which case I will drop you off at the next planet we stop at and let you run from the Federation. Your choice." 

Six struggled against Kizzvell for a moment then stopped.

"Fine. What do you want me to do?"

*****

"This is Blue Hand Leader hailing Blue Hands 1 and 2. Terrorists have been  apprehended and brought aboard. Head back to base, we'll tow this craft in with us."

"Roger that, Blue Hand 1."

Out the windscreen, the two other Blue Hands turned about and began to fly back towards the station. Six turned around to see the barrel of Ed's F-6 in his face.

"Alright, I did what you said. Will you let me go now?"

"No. I'll let you out when we get to our destination," Ed responded, not moving the gun. "Until then you're going to stay right here." He turned to Dave. "Lugton, seal him in your bunk."

Dave shrugged. "Why my bunk?"

"Because I told you to and if you don't I'll shoot you too." He tapped the revolver on his hip. 

"Ed, you're kinda--" He was cut off as Ed drew the revolver and held it an inch from his nose. Molon Labe's  crew all stepped back a pace.

"That's captain to you and what did I just say?" Dave scowled but forced Six's hands behind his back and led him off the Blue Hand vessel and toward the bunks. "And clean up that body somehow!" Ed barked after him. He too walked off the Blue Hand craft and sat down in the common area. Parsee and Kizzvell were on him in a flash.

"The hell was that you just pulled?!" yelled Parsee, wincing as her ribs protested to yelling.

"I know, jus-" began Ed.

"Mutiny is ugly thing, Ed," Kizzvell said, in a very low voice.

"And you're right, bu-"

"So help me god, Ed, if that's the way it's gonna be," said Parsee. Ed rose quickly from his seat.

"Quiet, the both of you! Engine room, NOW!" The two reluctantly followed Ed through the cockpit and down the ladder into the cramped and humid room. 

"Explain. Now," Kizzvell growled. Ed holstered his guns and held up his hands in a placating manner.

"I'd never shoot Dave, or you two and I had hoped you would have known that. I did that because I want Six scared of me. I want him to think that, as evil as the Feds are, I am worse. The more scared he is, the more cooperative he'll be." He spread his hands as though to say simple as that. Kizzvell and Parsee huffed but seemed to agree. They turned to leave as Stavers slid down the ladder. 

"Listen. I don't think our little ruse there is going to fool them for long. We need to go somewhere and fast." Stavers seemed a little out of breath and held his hand to the wound in his stomach. Kizzvell snapped his fingers.

"Know exactly where. Desuul is little less than two parsecs away. Take about three days to get there."

"What do we do once we're there?" asked Stavers.

"We let Six off the ship and plan to pick up an old war buddy of mine," responded Ed.

"This buddy is on Desuul?" Stavers asked.

"Well, no," admitted Ed. "I don't know where he is. But he's very distinctive. He's a Kewessed Boranthian with some...issues." Stavers seemed slightly startled by that information.

"He wouldn't happen to go by the name of Dags, would he?" he asked. Ed looked at him, very surprised.

"Actually, yeah. How did you know that?" 

Stavers heaved an enormous sigh.

"Because a very odd Kewessed Boranthian was one of two prisoners on my ship." Ed laughed and clapped Stavers on the shoulder. He winced at the shock on his wounded arm.

"Ooh, sorry. But that's great. Now we can go directly there. Do you know where your ship is headed?"

"Last time I was onboard, we were headed to Tursivat. We needed to resupply and refuel." Ed ran his hand over his mouth.

"Tursivat, huh?" he said. "Well then, we need to stop your ship before it gets there."

"Why's that?" asked Parsee.

"Well," Ed began, starting back up the ladder to the cockpit. "Tursivat is one of the few majorly developed planets out here in the Far Zone. And its got a huge Fed presence because of it. A presence I would sorely like to avoid antagonizing whenever possible." He walked up to the navi-board Kizzvell had purchased and started calculating their trajectory. "So if we're here," he said, pointing to a spot right off of station ZNC-4, "And Tursivat is here," A point three parsecs away, "And your ship is where?" he asked.

"I'm not sure,  but we'd have headed to Tursivat straight from Hellhole, so, somewhere along this trade route." He drew his finger across a line that connected Tursivat and Hellhole. "We couldn't have made Tursivat in the time I've been away, so we could probably ambush them in this asteroid belt." He indicated a belt of asteroids surrounding Tursivat.

"We could do that," said Ed. "But they're bound to have checkpoints in that belt to make sure nobody blows up something important on the planet's surface. And we have no way of knowing how many Feds we'd be dealing with if we wanted to take one on."

"So what do we do?" asked Parsee. Ed smiled and pulled his compatriots closer.

"We board and take her like the damn fearsome pirates we're meant to be."