I twisted to get a better look up at Mr. Fields. “Alright, so we’re headed to Grim HEX. Then what?”   

He shook his head. “You’re going to Grim HEX. I’m going to Port Olisar. I’ve got a contact there and a better ship than this for the shit-storm we’re heading into.” 

I nodded and agreed, but inside I was extremely nervous. My first time to Grim HEX and I wouldn’t have a guide. I’d heard some pretty wild stories about the place. Some involved women doing… interesting shows. Others involved waking up in a bathtub missing organs with fresh stitches on your abdomen. None of them had ever made me think, “Yeah, that’s the place for me.”  

We set a new heading to the Crusader system, jumped to it, then as quickly as we could jumped to the marker for Grim HEX. We arrived a little more than 30 km out, just outside of the asteroid field that surrounds and makes up Grim HEX. It was one thing to pilot a small ship through the asteroids and thread the ever changing course to the hangars at the center of the mass, but it was quite another to pilot something like the 890 Jump. Consequently, when we arrived at our destination I headed for the hangars again and, at Mr. Fields’ urging, got in the Bambulance instead of my own P-52. This would allow me to have a Quantum Drive if needed. 

At roughly 30 KM out, at the fringes of the asteroid field we launched the Pisces. I flew gently into the deceptively slow dance of space rocks while Mr. Fields turned the 890 and jumped for Port Olisar. I felt very alone as I picked my way through, trying to find a balance between caution and speed. On one hand I needed to not hit an asteroid. On the other hand I needed to not be caught by any bounty hunters before I got to Grim HEX and it was an obvious destination for me so some could be laying in wait. The faster I could get there the less time they’d have to get in position and ambush me. 

Grim HEX itself was made up of several massive asteroids held together by large tethers, forming a popcorn kernel shape, largely bulbous but open at one end. The hangers dotted the open end in a grid pattern, but open landing pads could be found just outside the rest of the station if you didn’t need a hangar. I decided I wanted to store and hide this ship, so I opted to hail Air Traffic Control and request a hangar. All I received back over comms was a burst of static and screaming, but I also received a marker on my HUD for a hangar who’s doors slowly began to part for me, so I proceeded toward it without much of a choice.

Welcome to Grim HEX I thought darkly. 

Landing happened without issue, but that’s where normal ended. Grim HEX was unlike any other space station I’d ever seen. As I wandered through the station I observed broken railing, graffiti in the place of signs, leaking pipes with algae growing, unfinished asteroid walls, flickering lights where there were lights at all, piles of trash strewn about in every corridor, smears of bloody rags and equipment half-hazardly lining the medical facilities, and above all, a very rough looking populace. The entire place stank of garbage and unwashed humanity. 

How the hell has this place stayed air tight? I wondered. Their maintenance plan seemed non existent. 

Regardless, it was clearly working and I didn’t plan on spending any longer there than I had to, so I decided to ignore the protests in my head and just keep moving. 

One goal- I thought to myself, figure out how to get into Security Outpost Kareah and what needs done once we’re in. Now then… who would know about that and how would I get them to talk to me about it? 

I kept my head down and moved through the dim corridors toward the center of the station, trying to get a feel for the layout of the place, avoiding eye contact. Eventually I stumbled my way into a large tavern area that had one wall made up almost entirely of transparent material, allowing for an unrivaled view of the asteroid field. Various posters proclaimed that races were temporarily paused until debris could be cleaned up. I looked at the patrons of the bar, then at myself and decided that now was not the time to order a drink. I was still wearing my flight suit, body armor, weaponry, utility tools, etc… while everyone else present was wearing standard street clothes. At the far end of the bar stood a door with a neon sign saying “Skutters,” and flashing to “OPEN.” I decided to start there. 

Skutters proved to be a small weapons and armor shop, specializing in energy weapons. I was dressed for success at a distance, meaning that I was carrying a sniper rifle with a 16x scope and an assault rifle with a 2x holographic site, but nothing concealable or shorter range. I picked up an Arclight pistol and some spare batteries, then moved on, looking for something that would allow me to blend in a little better with the locals. 

I eventually found my way to the hab units, which also contained most of the shopping there was to be done at Grim HEX. From an open-air shop I purchased a pair of gray pants, some brown leather work boots, a black t-shirt, a brown long duster jacket, and an olive green cap. With my “Grim HEX Local” disguise in hand I made my way back to the entrance to the hab units and rented one on a nightly basis. It would have been cheaper to purchase a week or a month at a time, but I didn’t know how long I’d be at Grim HEX and hoped it would be short. I stowed my kit and got changed, strapping my new pistol on underneath my duster and dropping the spare batteries into its deep pockets before heading back to the bar. 

At the bar I ordered a drink (double of bourbon on the rocks) which got a smirk from the bartender. I shrugged it off and made my way upstairs to a corner table where I could see the whole bar spread out below me. A smattering of patrons lounged idly over their drinks, generally by themselves, sometimes in groups of two. Thumping, throbbing music pulsed through speakers but the dance floor was only populated by an accumulation of detritus. I leaned back and took a sip of my drink, then nearly choked. 

What the hell is this, engine degreaser!? I thought, eyes watering. This may have technically qualified as bourbon, but it certainly wouldn’t have won any awards. I continued to nurse my drink, sip by sip, watching the bar without being too obvious about it, trying to get a feel for the environment and trying to get some idea of who I could approach about Outpost Kareah. Unfortunately no one wore a sign saying, “Talk to me about planning a raid on the Advocacy’s criminal database,” which I found to be wildly inconvenient. 

By the time I finished my drink it was just bourbon cut with water. The taste hadn’t improved, but by the bottom of the glass I didn’t mind it as much. I made my way back down the steps to the bar and ordered again, this time a beer (something a little safer), and took a seat nearer the bar and within earshot of the majority of it. 

For the next three days I ate, slept, and nursed drinks very slowly while pretending to be enthralled with the view of the asteroid field just outside the bar, doing my best to eavesdrop on anyone talking loudly enough. My patience was rewarded by a loud, upset man venting to his obviously annoyed compatriots about the Advocacy and how he’d lost his job.

I waited until one of his friends left to use the refresher and the loud man got up to get another round of drinks. On his way back I got out of my seat and “stumbled” into him, spilling his drinks slightly. 

“Shit, I am so sorry!” I said, apologizing earnestly, “I lost my footing there.”  

“Watch yourself!” He snapped at me, looking down and seeing the spilled liquid on his shirt and on the floor.

“Let me cover this round and the next to make it up, please.” I said, doing my damndest to appear sincere and trustworthy. 

He stared at me hard for a second, weighing how angry he was with how much the drinks were worth. In the end I calculated correctly. “Fine.” He said, putting the now partially empty glasses down on the nearest table. 

I grinned and stuck out my hand, “The name’s Rana.”

He grunted, obviously uninterested in meeting new and interesting people at the moment but not rude enough to ignore the introduction. He reached forward and shook my hand back. “Willis Tanon.” 

I nodded. “Nice to meet you Willis. What are we drinking tonight?” 

“Spacer’s Grave.” he said. 

“Oh, good call.” I smiled wider. “Well, I’ll go pick up four of those if you want to go have a seat.” 

“Four?” He asked, frowning, “There’s only three of us.” 

“Yeah, but there’s no way I’m going to pass up Spacer’s Grave!” I said, turning on my heel and heading toward the bar. 

With drinks in hand I made my way back to the table and was introduced to the other occupant- a bored looking woman named Toph Geller. By the time introductions were over and drinks were passed out the man was back from the head and I got to meet him as well- one Frank Richardson, who looked at least as bored as Toph did. 

I had my in- I was going to stick around until at least the next round of drinks because I was going to buy it- but I needed to get Willis alone. “Here’s to new acquaintances!” I said overly cheerfully, raising my glass. Toph and Frank heaved a sigh and barely raised their glasses. Willis rolled his eyes and brought his up to mine. I pretended not to notice and took a swig. 

Damn that stuff is awful! I thought to myself.

“Ah, hits the spot!” I said out loud. 

Toph and Frank took their swigs and put the glasses down without emotion, but Willis clearly savored his and agreed with me. I wracked my brain thinking of conversation topics that would be safe. Before I could attempt anything Willis saved me. 

“Fucking Advocacy!” he swore softly, but with venom.

Toph and Frank rolled their eyes and sank back into their drinks. I seized the opportunity. “Not to pry, but what happened?” I asked. 

“More than a decade on the job and they fire me for one little mistake, one little fuck up.” he moaned. 

“Shiiiiit.” I said sympathetically. “What happened?”

“Hold on.” Frank held up a hand. “I can’t hear this bitching one more time. I’m out. Toph, you coming?” 

“Yeah, half a sec.” She said, raising her glass and draining it in one pull. I was impressed. I would have definitely spewed it all over the table and everyone around it if I’d tried that. “Alright, let’s go.” 

Toph and Frank wandered toward the door to the center of the station and I slipped into the still-warm seat opposite Willis. “What happened man, why would they fire you after a decade plus of service?... if you don’t mind me asking of course.” 

Willis had the slightly hazy look of a man in the beginning stages of being drunk. “Fuck it, I don’t mind. Fuck those guys. So I took a nap on night shift. So what? I was tired. Nothing happened. We were fine!”

I did my best to look shocked and outraged. “They fired you because you fell asleep during a night shift, when you’re supposed to be asleep anyway?”

He nodded miserably. “More than a decade of service, flushed.” 

“That’s bullshit man.” I said as sympathetically as I could. If I caught my guard sleeping while he was supposed to be guarding me I’d fire his ass too! I thought to myself. 

He tossed the remains of his Spacer’s Grave back while I nursed mine. I was perhaps halfway done, but slid mine to the side. “Let me go get another round real quick.” I said. 

He nodded. 

In moments I was back with two fresh glasses.

“So Willis, what did you do for the Advocacy?” I asked. 

He snorted. “Stood around and looked pretty. I was a guard.” 

I nodded. “Nice, sounds pretty peaceful right up until it isn’t. Guard anywhere I might have heard of?” 

He shrugged. “Maybe. They transferred us plenty.”

“Change of scenery at least, eh?” I said, trying to find the bright side.

Willis shrugged again. “Every time you really get to know a place, memorize the defenses, the fall back points, the rally points, the layout in general they move you somewhere new. The variety was nice but it would have been better if I could have stayed in one place and gotten to know it like the back of my hand.” 

“I see,” I said, filing this info away for future reference. The guards may be as unfamiliar with a station we’re assaulting as we are. “How about Kareah, you ever get stationed there?” 

He laughed sharply. “Yeah, what a joke.”

I grinned and sipped my drink. “What makes you say that?”

“The whole damn thing is bristling with laser repeater turrets!” he said. “No way anything makes it close to the station. Even if they did, they’d have to land in the middle of those turrets and fight their way inside and we’d just kill them. Even if they got past us it wouldn’t do them any good because the database is locked down hard. You’d need some… black market hacking chip or something to get past that, and by then every bounty hunter in the system would be converging on the outpost for the contract that’s automatically generated whenever the station falls under attack. But trust me- nothing is getting past those turrets in the first place. I saw so many ships try it.” 

I nodded along, trying to absorb everything he was telling me fully. “Damn, you’re right, it does sound like the guards are superfluous.” 

He nodded and sank back into his drink. We hung out for another hour or so at the bar, until I was sure I had all the information I was going to get out of him and he was extremely drunk (not that I was sober at that point), then I made my way back to my hab unit and passed out. 

The next morning I set about scouting out less than legal electronics and hacking supplies, and was pleasantly surprised to find a semi-legitimate storefront advertising exactly what I was looking for- “Tigersclaws” These light blue brushed aluminum rectangles, about the size of a deck of playing cards, were supposedly all that was needed to break into just about any computer database in the ‘verse. The process was fairly automated, but you had to stand at the terminal and babysit them, so you couldn’t just plug them in and go hide under cover. 

As soon as I’d acquired one I hailed Mr. Fields. It was time for the next stage of our plan. He’d had success on his end as well and was eager to push ahead. We agreed to meet at about the same place we’d parted ways, so I made my way to the ASOP terminals in Grim HEX and summoned the Pisces, got to the hangar, and got to work making it flight ready. 

When I received word that he was ready for me I changed back into my armor and re-equipped myself, then got into the cockpit, closed the rear loading ramp behind me and powered up the ship. I requested permission for takeoff from Air Traffic Control and the massive doors before me began to shudder and creak open. I was already planning my route- based on the markers on my HUD I would need to exit the hangar, then spin around the asteroid about 180° in order to face Mr. Fields. Not a problem. 

The doors slammed to a stop with finality, so I gently lifted off the ground and eased forward out of the hangar past the energy field that maintained the atmosphere, into the void of space. A variety of ships came and went, each on their own path, some hovering just out of the way, others clinging to the side of an asteroid like a fly on a boulder. 

I ignored them and pivoted down, diving around the massive lump of rock that made up Grim HEX, pulling Mr. Field’s icon into my HUD and aiming roughly in his direction, then gently easing forward on the throttle. The Pisces leapt ahead, pinning me back in my seat. Red text appeared almost immediately at the top of my HUD in big bold letters: LEAVING ARMISTICE ZONE: CAUTION ADVISED

I shrugged. Of course I was leaving the armistice zone. 

Then…

A light on my dashboard flared red and a squawking alarm declared that I’d been radar locked by someone. They’d targeted me just as I’d targeted the Avenger Titan by that derelict Outpost, only this time I doubted they were going to be friendly. 

A second later another light flared amber and a dispassionate voice declared, “Missile Warning. Missile Warning.” 

I cursed and slammed my throttle forward, rolling 90° to the left and pulling up hard while dumping countermeasures. I then rolled all the way back to the right and pulled hard again, back to my original heading, this time moving much faster, and made a run for Mr. Fields. I could have turned and run back to the armistice zone, but then I would have been trapped, and I wanted to fight this guy off if it was possible. The Pisces is a very maneuverable craft, extremely nimble, but it’s no fighter. It lacks the armament and extreme agility that they possess, but it’s quite the zippy bird nonetheless. I didn’t know what ship Mr. Fields was bringing, but I knew it was likely to be extremely well armed. 

“Rana to Fields, Rana to Fields,” I called over comms, hailing him as I dodged and weaved between asteroids. 

“This is Fields, go ahead.” my speaker crackled back.

“Picked up a tail out of Grim HEX, coming in hot, be ready for a fight.” I advised. 

“Roger that.” His response was crisp and professional but he couldn’t keep all the excitement out of his voice. 

Laser bolts screamed past my cockpit as my shield indicators flashed red at me. “Shields under attack” the ship read out. I continued to dodge and weave as best I could but I knew my opponent must be pretty close. 

“Shields critical” the ship said a moment later as the curved indicator behind the outline of my ship shrank to just a small red line. I brought my targeting pip back onto Mr. Fields’ indicator and read the distance- about 10 km to go, and shrinking fast. I was already more than halfway there. 

“Do you know what’s chasing you?” his voice came over comms. 

“No, but he’s landing a lot of shots.” I replied, yanking hard on the stick to avoid an asteroid and barrel rolling to slide around the next. 

“Alright, I’m in the top turret.” he said. 

“Gotcha.” I muttered, planning on doing my best to pull my pursuer in a long, drawn out arc over the top of whatever Mr. Fields had shown up in. 

“Shields Critical” the computer read out again as more laser bolts impacted the rear of the ship, then, “Shields Depleted” as the little red line disappeared entirely. I rolled to dive hard behind another asteroid, then rolled again to continue a dive around it toward Mr. Fields. At this point I was only about 5 km out and closing fast.

The little red line re-appeared behind the outline of my ship on my MFD and I received the welcome news of, “Shields Critical,” which I’ll take any day of the week over, “Shields Depleted.” I’d dodged shots for at least the 5 seconds it took to start them recharging, and with full power to the shields they would recharge quickly… unless I started taking more damage. 

Speaking of which… I was rapidly running out of cover. The asteroid field, as treacherous as it could be, was also rich with cover against someone trying to shoot you. Mr. Fields was parked at the periphery of it, beyond the smaller asteroids that were far too small to hide behind but that still needed avoiding because they’d still put a hole in your ship and kill you dead. I would need to cover a fair chunk of space between the relative cover of the asteroid field and Mr. Fields without any protection to speak of.

My comms flared to life, “Got him targeted, just bring him my way.” 

“You got it,” I replied, “If I can survive that long.” 

More laser bolts slammed into the back and top of the Pisces, tearing down that shield once again, making angry thudding noises where they made it through and hit the hull. I rolled and pulled, trying to slip behind an asteroid, but he was too close to me and followed me around it, laser bolts barely missing me, shooting just over my head. 

I broke a cardinal rule of dogfighting and reversed in front of his nose without any hope of an overshoot, just hoping I’d get away with it, because I had to get back on the correct heading to rendezvous with Mr. Fields. Sure enough, I was punished for it, with a mad line of laser bolts tearing their way down the ship, diagonally from port bow to starboard stern, shredding away my previously intact front shields and blasting away at the ship hull and engines themselves towards the rear. 

Immediately I was thrown into a spin as my starboard primary thruster shut down and my port primary thruster began to provide all the forward thrust I had. I knew there was only one thing to do in that situation, but it was extremely hard to do when someone is shooting at you- stop all inputs and let the ship come to a stop, then gently and cautiously figure out which thrusters are still working and use them to navigate to wherever you need to go. When someone is gunning for you, you generally don’t survive long enough to come to a complete stop in the first place. 

I cut all power to my forward thrusters and pulled hard in the opposite direction of my spin, bringing the ship back under control slowly. I risked a quick glance at the HUD- Mr. Fields was only 2 KM away at that point and his guns reached out to about 1.5 KM. I just needed to survive another half a kilometer or so… 

The second most powerful thrusters on any ship are almost always the bottom facing thrusters, and while the rear and top of my ship had sustained a lot of damage I didn’t believe anything had happened to the belly. So, I nosed down, away from Mr. Fields, made sure there were no asteroids between him and myself, and strafed directly up. 

Laser bolts continued to pepper the ship and the space around me- as far as I could tell the enemy was making swooping passes at me instead of just sitting still behind me and finishing me off. Occasionally one would knock me off course but I was able to quickly correct. 

In a very short amount of time Mr. Fields’ ship came into view and I knew exactly why he was excited. He’d brought the Carrack- an exploration vessel. Where the 890 Jump is luxury focused, the Carrack is expedition focused. It’s a much sturdier ship, but it can still carry other ships and vehicles and still will absolutely act as your mobile base of operations- it’s just that it’s got cargo space and such where the 890 has things like a spa and a pool. Where the 890 is clean, graceful, white flowing shapes and lines, the Carrack is brutal and wedge shaped, gray with red highlights, designed from the ground up for a small team to defend the ship from a boarding assault. 

Not for the first time I thought, It’s good to have rich friends!

In moments I passed the 1.5 km mark and my attacker must have followed because a stream of laser bolts shot from the Carrack over my head and behind me. By this point though I was well out in the open with no cover, no shields, and I was operating on just my belly thrusters, so I was moving extremely slowly compared to just about any other healthy ship you could name.

A dark shape shot past me and I got my first look at my enemy- an Anvil Arrow. Extremely light, fast, maneuverable, and well armed, it was a light fighter made for aces. Very twitchy. No wonder I hadn’t been able to get away. I was surprised I was still alive to be honest. The whole thing looked like an arrow head, and when he flattened out and came at me head on he nearly disappeared, so thin and hard to hit was his ship. I fired on him just the same, doing my damndest to force him to break off his attack, while significantly larger laser bolts from the Carrack slammed into him from a distance. 

I only just had time to realize he was lining up a shot at me before I saw flashes of light, then there was the screeching of tearing metal and shredded glass, and then he was gone past me again. 

I sat in stunned silence for a second, trying to realize what had just happened. My Pisces was utterly dark. A solid chunk of the windshield was gone. Part of my control panel was gone as well. Turning to look behind me I could see gaps through the ship and into space. 

My eyes shot wide as I recognized the situation I was in- the ship was dead, defenseless, and any second now the Arrow would be coming around to line up a final shot on it. When he did there’d be no way he’d miss and the explosion would be spectacular. I needed to not be in it. 

I scrambled to strip myself out of the protective harness that strapped me into the pilot’s seat and briefly entertained the idea of going out the back door as I’d come in, but the power was completely out and I didn’t think the door would function without it. Instead I climbed up on the dash and out through the gaping hole where the windshield used to be, clinging hard to any handhold I could manage, then carefully oriented myself toward the Carrack and jumped with all my might.

I fumbled with the controls to my built in thrusters momentarily, then headed for the Carrack at top speed- which was like standing still compared to what any ship could do. 

“Fields, I’m out of the ship, it’s dead.” I spoke into my mic. 

“Aw shit, the Bambulance?!” he asked. 

“Afraid so, and that Arrow is still out here to kill me.” 

“Yeah, I see that. He’s almost back in range…” came the reply. 

I kept zipping along just as fast as my little suit would take me, crossing about 1.5 km of open space to the pilotless Carrack. 

“Alright, he’s making another pass, you might want to watch this.” Said Mr. Fields over comms. 

I spun to watch, surprised at how far I’d already gone from the carcass of the Pisces. Before the Arrow opened up laser bolts from the Carrack were already shooting over my head, saturating the space where he needed to be. The Arrow spun and tried to dodge around the laser fire but Mr. Fields was an old hand on turrets and had no trouble keeping the Arrow locked in his sites. One after the other slammed into the Arrow’s shields, which were barely there to begin with, then as he turned to run a final lucky shot took off about half of his port wing. The Arrow immediately began to violently roll counter clockwise, with much more lift coming from his starboard side than his port. The last I saw of him was the light of his main thrusters spinning and disappearing into the asteroid field. 

I turned again and continued my way towards the Carrack. “Well let’s hope that’s the last bounty hunter we run into.” I said optimistically. 

Mr. Fields grunted. “You’ve got a pretty solid paycheck over your head Rana. Don’t count on it.” 

I sighed. “Yeah… I know… Thanks for saving my ass. And I’m sorry about your ship.” 

I could nearly hear him shrug. “No problem. And I’m not worried about it. I’ve got insurance. This isn’t the first time the Bambulance has been totaled.” 

I floated over to the Carrack and gently touched down to the gravity plating on the top deck, happy to once again feel solid matter beneath my feet. I opened the airlock, then passed the hangar, then walked the hallway that ran up the spine of the ship to the bridge, where the gunner’s seat was. Mr. Fields had already gotten out of the command deck and was down one floor in the pilot’s seat, so I jumped into the same turret he’d just vacated and strapped myself in. 

“Alright, ass in seat, good to go.” I informed him as soon as possible. 

“Jumping.” He replied efficiently. Then, once again, reality tried to turn inside out. 

Once in the relative safety of Quantum Space we relaxed and met at the cartography room to discuss our efforts and findings. We’d both learned basically the same things regarding Security Outpost Kareah and had both obtained a Tigersclaw, so we were well set on that front. 

“The question is,” I continued, “now what? How do we get past that kind of turret coverage?” 

Mr. Fields looked eager, like he’d been waiting for this question. “The way I see it, we’ve got two options. One- We come in hot and fast in some little speedy number. Dodge the fire, land next to the doors, it sounds like the turrets don’t actually cover the pad itself. If we can get down to the pad we’ll be fine. Two- We bring something that can shrug off that kind of punishment for an extended period of time while we land it on the pad.” He paused, waiting for me to fill in a blank that I wasn’t quite seeing. 

I wracked my brain. 

Then, “Ah, that’s why you brought the Carrack.

“Bingo.” He grinned smugly. “This thing can shrug off all the turret fire they’re likely to throw our way for a hell of a lot longer than it’ll take for us to land on a pad, the only thing we’re going to need to worry about will be indoors.” 

I frowned. “I feel like we’re missing something. If it were so simple, why wouldn’t everyone do it?” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Simple? How many people with Carracks do you know? Hell, how many Carracks have you seen in your life?” 

“Good point.” I conceded. Still, it felt like we were missing something, but I couldn’t put my finger on it so I saw no other choice but to proceed. “Let’s do this thing.” 

We returned to our stations, him to the pilot’s seat and me to the gunner’s, and he punched in the coordinates for Security Outpost Kareah. Instead of immediately entering the remote turret I took the time to check over my weapons, ensuring they were all in proper working condition. This was going to be a hell of a fight- both getting in and holding it, and likely fighting our way out as well. 

For a moment reality swam into focus as we stopped whatever random jump Mr. Fields had made previously, then it warped again as we jumped toward Security Outpost Kareah. We exited Quantum Space about 30 km from the Outpost and began to ease our way forward, unsure of when their defenses would pick us up as a threat. We would have been picked up by their scanners while we were still traveling toward them in our Quantum Jump, so we knew we wouldn’t be a surprise, but just showing up wasn’t a threat in and of itself. Approaching a prohibited area however, was likely to raise some alarms and lethal countermeasures. 

At about 20 km we received big bold red text on our HUDs: TRESPASSING. LEAVE OR RISK PROSECUTION. 

“Well,” I said dryly, “looks like we’re at the right place.” 

Mr. Fields didn’t reply, focusing on flying the ship. A few moments (and kilometers) later we must have crossed some red line as streams of laser fire shot out of the space station toward our ship, along with a single missile. I quickly targeted the missile and began spraying laser bolts into its path while Mr. Fields turned us around as rapidly as he could. 

The Carrack is not a small ship and it does not turn like one. Despite turning around, your momentum will continue to carry you in the direction you were previously going until it’s fully canceled out by significant enough amounts of thrust in the opposite direction. So, despite turning, we continued to drift ever closer to the station and the weaponry on it for a few moments while Mr. Fields fought for forward motion. I continued to try to hit the missile with everything I had, while Mr. Fields deployed countermeasures and his afterburner in an attempt to accelerate away from it. With a lung shaking “KABOOM” the missile impacted our rear, blowing up against our shield and devastating it, even damaging some of the ship underneath it. At that point we were already well on our way back out of the TRESPASSING zone and could relax a little once more. No one was shooting at us at any rate. 

As soon as we were “safe” we took a breather and each had the same response, “Missiles! No one said anything about missiles!” 

“Alright, how about this…” Mr. Fields began, “I’ll make a high speed pass by the station. You figure out where the defenses are and where the pad is exactly, ok?” 

“Sounds good.” I said, swiveling my turret up to get the best view I could.

“Full power to shields, here we go.” he said tersely. 

And with that we were off. In moments the red TRESPASSING text appeared at the top of our HUDs again. I kept my sites locked on the Security Outpost, trying desperately to see any hints of detail that would help us in our endeavor. True to his word, Mr. Fields took us dangerously close to the station, buzzing it upside down to give my turret complete, unrestricted viewing of it, flying as fast as he possibly could to avoid as much of the swarms of incoming laser fire as he could. As we zipped past I yelled, “Got it!” and he hit full afterburner once more to rocket us past it and away as fast as the Carrack would go. 

My turret whipped around and remained locked on the station, so I had the perfect view to see all 4 missiles as they arced up and away from the station and came at us.

“Fields we have 4 missiles on our ass.” I snapped hurriedly. 

“Yeah, on it.” He replied, dumping countermeasures and plowing ahead as fast as he could. 

I targeted the nearest one and opened up, hoping for a lucky shot to hit it and detonate, but seconds later the Carrack was rocked with the impact, followed by three more in quick succession. Each one shook the ship from stern to bow. 

In a few moments the red “TRESPASSING” text disappeared, confirming that we were outside their range. 

“Alright, the station is a long tube with two spinning wheels or rings, right?” I said over comms, eager to share my findings. “The pads we need to land at are right between those rings, closer to the “bottom” ring than the “top” one.” 

“Rana…” Mr. Fields sounded less than happy, “Rana, no.” 

“What?” I asked.

“Rana, we can’t take on those missiles. Our ass end just took a beating. We try to do another run like that and we are going to die.”

I sat for a moment, contemplating. Then, “The intel was wrong.” 

“Yeah. The intel was wrong.” He sounded tired. 

I swore with feeling. 

“I’m down to two options as I see it,” I said, “life on the run, or surrender and plead my case with the flight recorder data from the Bambulance and the Fury. You’ve still got the data loaded on the 890, right?” 

“Yeah, I still have it.” he said. 

“Well then, it’s not even really a choice, is it? Life on the run with this much money on my head is going to be brief and miserable, and it’s going to end poorly and abruptly.” I didn’t bother trying to hide the disdain from my voice. I REALLY didn’t like where this was heading, I just didn’t see any other option. 

Mr. Fields swore as well. 

“So if I have to surrender… how the hell do I do that? Anywhere that will let me surrender will also shoot me on sight, won’t they?” I asked. 

“They’ll definitely attack any ship you’re detected on.” Mr. Fields replied, thinking it over. 

“Alright, so how do we get me from your ship to a space station without you getting shot up?” I mused out loud. 

Thus we came up with one of our most hare-brained schemes to date. 

____________________________________________________________________________

Several hours later

____________________________________________________________________________

“You sure this is going to work?” I asked nervously through my comms.

“Heh, no.” he answered honestly, chuckling.

Port Olisar loomed large in front of me, but it was a spec of black in front of the orange mass of Crusader. If there was a heart to the Stanton system, the gas giant was probably it. Three rings spun around Port Olisar’s spindly axle, with two sets of landing pads separating them. Because the landing pads were so easy to approach from any angle it had become a favorite among many a Spacer, but it came with the rather severe downside of not having any pressurized atmosphere for your ship (making maintenance a nightmare) and no medical facilities at the station itself. 

What the hell am I doing? I thought to myself, not for the first time. 

I stood outside the Carrack on the top deck, in just my light tan flight suit and helmet, (If I was going to surrender I didn’t want them to confiscate my weapons, armor, and tools) with a long rope tied around me and the other end tied to one of the many D-rings that lined the hull. In my pocket I held a copy of the flight record data from the Fury and the Pisces.

“You ready?” He asked.

I took a deep breath. “Yeah, ready as I can be.” 

“Alright, let’s do this thing!” 

I braced myself against the door as the ship accelerated forward, toward the space station, towards danger, with me strapped to the outside of it. 

I hope this works I hope this works I hope this works…

As the details of the station swam into focus the laser turrets that lined the perimeter turned as one and lined up on the Carrack, then began to fire. 

“Ok, go time,” I said remarkably calmly. 

Mr. Fields punched up to full throttle, slamming me back into the door with g forces, causing the initial volley of laser bolts to miss entirely, and causing Port Olisar to suddenly grow much, much larger. 

He aimed dead on to the station, then dipped down so he’d pass just underneath it, and at what felt like a very close distance indeed, began counting down, “3…2…1…GO!”

On “GO!” I began to try to work my way out of the rope that tied me to the ship while he slammed on the brakes and hit full reverse thrusters. Thankfully big ships take a LOT to slow down and the weakest thrusters are those facing forward, so while I was thrown forward it wasn’t horrifically violent. 

Again his rapid change of pace caused a volley of lasers to miss us entirely. I slipped free of the rope as he came to near a stop and I sprinted for the edge of the deck. With a few rapid steps I launched myself from the bow and into open space, floating toward Port Olisar. I used the thrusters built into my suit to accelerate as best I could and to point directly toward my preferred landing site, but what had felt like DIRECTLY next to the station when we were zipping past it at full Carrack speed now seemed like a very long journey. 

However, we had one piece of good news- As soon as I left the Carrack the automated scanning system stopped picking me up aboard his ship and stopped firing on him. 

Without ceremony or any apparent issue he requested and received a landing pad for the Carrack and went to set it down. Meanwhile, I continued my slow journey toward the first ring of the station, with the plan being to go around the first ring to land on the first pad that was available and enter the station at the first airlock that was connected to that pad. As I went I mulled over the legal system, prison, and the journey I’d have before me after I landed. As far as I knew this would be one of my last acts as a free man in a very long time, which was a very sobering thought indeed. I approached the first ring and was just able to make out the support structures that made it up when a series of orange flashes zipped overhead and slammed into it from behind me. 

What the hell?

I spun quickly, coming face to face with the triple barrels of a Gladius light fighter. He fired again, this time missing me to my left.

The Gladius looked like a dagger blade, a flat sharp profile that came to a wicked point at the front, narrowed in the middle, and widened out again to flared wings at the base. The green and white paint job was faded and scarred, but that certainly didn’t affect the lethality or maneuverability of such a potent little weapon.  

I could hardly blame him for missing me, I knew how hard it was to line up a human sized target with those sites, and without the ground as a backdrop to help walk your shots onto target it would be extremely difficult to correct. I knew I was slow and vulnerable, that I’d never make it to cover in time before he shot me, so I did the only thing I could think to do- I put full thrusters on and shot toward him as rapidly as I could, going up and over his barrels and landing on his windshield. 

The Gladius spun furiously and backed up, sending me tumbling through space somehow back towards the station. I aimed for the first ring and put full thrusters on, hoping to make it before he could line up another shot. 

“Fields!” I yelled in my comms. “I’m getting shot at over here!” 

“What!?” he said, more than a little confused- we were in an armistice zone after all, and combat was prohibited- but apparently that didn’t apply to bounty hunters going after a known criminal. 

“I’m going to try to hide in the ring!” I said, as flashes of lasers once again began to shoot past me. 

“You’ve gotta give me more to work with Rana!” he said as rapidly as the words could leave his mouth. 

I smashed into the tarnished white painted metal of the ring and began to boost my way toward the inner surface with lots of exposed structure- girders and beams and the like- and more of the laser bolts chewed divots out of the metal beside my head. 

“Gladius at the southernmost ring!” I said, entirely unnecessarily loudly, “It’s shooting at me, I’m hiding in the ring!” 

It took just a second but he replied, “Ok, I see you! He’s coming around the outside of the ring, get to the center, get in the center!” 

I scrambled to comply, forming a vague plan of dodging around the ring until the bounty hunter got bored enough to go away- I had literally no other options. While the outside three surfaces of the ring were primarily covered with smooth (ish) white metal panels the inside was unfinished exposed structure that was easy to tuck yourself into to make yourself very difficult to hit- but it came with the downside of also limiting your vision and mobility, as well as giving you fewer options on which way you could run if you needed to. With few other options I half scrambled/half thrusted for the inner structure and tried to sling myself into it, but it wasn’t as open as I’d thought at first. 

“He’s moving through the center of the ring, keep going, come around to the outside!” Mr. Fields shouted over the comms. 

I was extremely grateful for the instructions, I couldn’t both look where I was going and keep the Gladius in my view at the same time. I hurriedly boosted my way around to the outside, just as more laser bolts shot over my head, and more slammed into the ring just beside me. 

I kept circling the ring, avoiding the guns of the Gladius, but I knew I was in a losing position, that I was just delaying the inevitable. If I didn’t figure something out, and quickly, I was going to die. As a great spoke of the ring swept by me the idea of crashing the ship into it occurred to me and I began trying to think of a way I could convince the Gladius to get into the center of the ring and stay there without getting shot. 

As I was brainstorming and panicking, dodging laser fire, Mr. Fields was brainstorming himself and came to a hell of an idea. His Carrack was parked on the pad and was too large and cumbersome to be much help, plus the guns were unavailable from the pilot’s seat- it would need a dedicated gunner to do much of anything. But what was in the vehicle bay in the front of the Carrack was another story…

Mr. Fields reluctantly tore his eyes off the battle around the ring and raced aboard his ship, towards the bow, into the forward vehicle bay, and slapped at the “OPEN” button hurriedly. As the doors began to creak open and the ramp began to extend downward to the landing pad tarmac he was already climbing into the driver’s seat of his Tumbril Cyclone MT. 

The Cyclone line of all terrain vehicles all share the same basic frame design with 4 wheels and massive suspension travel, an open driver and passenger compartment, and an open small bed at the rear. The MT variant has the extremely notable addition of a ballistic turret and 4 small missiles mounted in that bed. 

The engines roared as Mr. Fields tore down the loading ramp onto the landing pad, took a 90° turn to the left and lined up roughly with the Gladius in the distance, then absolutely floored it. The Cyclone MT screamed across the pad and soared straight over the edge, momentum carrying it just as fast as he’d been going when it left the ground. Without wasting a second Mr. Fields climbed out of the driver’s seat and pulled himself around in zero gravity to the gunner’s position in the rear turret, powering it on in a practiced flick of his wrist. He gripped the turret with both hands, took aim at the Gladius, and while flying past the backdrop of Crusader on one side and Port Olisar on the other opened fire on the enemy ship. 

A steady stream of bullets and tracers shot forth from the Cyclone MT, down about half the length of the station, then began smashing into the shields of the Gladius. Over comms I heard a maniacal, joyful laughter. 

I wasn’t watching any of this, attempting to get away from the dangerous end of the Gladius as I was, but I noticed immediately that the Gladius stopped shooting at me. As soon as the shooting stopped my comms crackled to life, “Rana, go for the station, now!” 

I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t know exactly where the Gladius was, I didn’t know where Mr. Fields was or what he was up to, but I knew that if I stayed where I was I was going to die. Whatever he was doing, it was my only shot at survival. I spun toward the center of the ring, toward the landing pads, and put full forward thrusters on. The distance seemed immeasurably long with no cover. 

Mr. Fields continued to fly through outer space in the turret spitting gunfire at the enemy as the Gladius turned to face him in what must have been shock and confusion. He was zipping through space at a fairly fast speed and closing in on the Gladius rapidly, causing his shots to be more accurate and to start to punch through the shields. As he closed with the Gladius he did the only thing he could think to do to continue to help save my ass- he leapt from the back of the flying Cyclone MT and, using his armor’s thrusters for slight corrections, slammed into the windshield of the Gladius in a great belly flop, covering nearly the entire thing and ruining any view the pilot had. 

As before the Gladius spun and backed away, throwing him off, but by then I was nearly to the base of the ring, at the spindle of the station. While the ring itself had some cover I could duck behind, the station was covered in nooks and crannies to take cover in and around. For a time I thought the Gladius had lost me entirely, but as I made my way up a crevasse toward a landing pad more orange laser bolts tore chunks out of the plating around me. I dove for cover, squeezing myself in behind some very durable (and expensive) looking equipment as I saw the Gladius make a sweeping pass over my position. As it passed I scrambled my way out and hurried to the next piece of cover I could find. 

“I’m on my way but I don’t know if I can help you any further Rana!” said Mr. Fields, using his built in thrusters to head toward the station as well. Because he was wearing his full space suit/body armor he had far superior thrusters than I had in my simple flight suit and would catch up quickly if I had far to go… which I hoped I didn’t. 

“Alright, I’m almost there!” I replied. 

Another burst of laser fire chewed holes in the station’s outer structure around me, and I wondered (not for the first time) why the station’s automated self defense turrets hadn’t opened up on this guy. I tucked myself into a corner and pushed off a ledge, shooting straight upwards towards the landing pads, faster than my thrusters alone would have taken me, right into the cover of the girders and beams that support the wide tarmac of the landing pads.

Here I would be a nearly impossible target to hit. However, I was also trapped, and I could see the Gladius hovering, waiting for me. 

The pads were situated side by side with a single hallway serving both of them, opening at a common corner in the center of the tarmac. It didn’t matter where I climbed onto the top of the pad, I was going to have to run the full distance across an entire landing pad to get to that hallway, and tarmacs are famously known for their lack of objects to hide behind. 

The Gladius began to dip and spin, trying to get an angle on me underneath the pads, but couldn’t quite line up a good shot. 

I used my hands to pull myself along the bottom of the pads to the opposite edge, knowing he hadn’t caught sight of me yet, and took a deep breath. 

“Alright, I’m going to make a run for the hallway, across the pad. Ready?” I asked. I don’t know why I asked, it’s not like he could do anything about it. 

“Ready.” Came the reply. He was still floating back as rapidly as he could from his epic distraction. 

“Ok, here goes.” With that I pushed doubts out of my mind and gave a heave on the metal bar I was clinging to, sending me straight up and out from underneath the pad. I twisted and grabbed the edge of the pad, using it to pivot around and slam down onto it. Suddenly I felt the familiar weight of gravity pressing down on me. 

Ah, right, they have gravity plating on the landing pads.

I scrambled to my feet and started a dead sprint for the hallway, which seemed to be kilometers away. My heart pounded in my ears, I know I was operating on pure adrenaline at that point, and I was about halfway there when he stopped looking underneath the pad for me and saw me running across the tarmac. Immediately chunks of blackened tarmac began pelting my suit as significantly more accurate laser fire peppered the ground around me. I could do nothing but keep sprinting, hoping beyond hope that I made it to shelter in time.

I stumbled as a searing pain shot across my right thigh, then spun as it felt as if I’d been punched in my left arm. Extreme cold seared me in those locations and my O2 readout began to drop like a rock. I slapped my right arm over the hole in my left sleeve and tried to stagger as fast as I could- I was close, but still had such a long way to go. 

The Gladius circled around, shooting from every angle as I limp-sprinted. I firmly believe that if he’d just stayed in one place and aimed I’d have been shot full of holes in no time at all, but because he kept moving he had to continually adjust his aim. I did my best not to be a cooperative target, weaving and dodging, but at the same time trying to make it to the hallway as quickly as I possibly could. The closer I got to the hallway the more desperate and erratic the shooting got, but it was no less dangerous, no less likely to obliterate me with a single laser blast.

As I reached the stairs one bolt blew the railing off and another two punched holes in the stairs, but I was able to stagger up them and dove for the comforting shadows of the hallway. For a split second I breathed a sigh of relief, but my O2 monitors were well into the red and dropping fast. If I didn’t find my way inside of an airlock and fast I would be just as dead as if that Gladius had shot me. 

I pulled myself to my feet and staggered down the hallway, moving as quickly as I could, starting to see spots and feel a little floaty. 

There! Airlock! Slap the “OPEN” button…

It seemed to take an eternity to cycle and open for me. By the time it did I could hardly see at all and could barely remember what I was doing. I stumbled inside and reached for the control panel with my right hand, slapping it as I collapsed face first onto the floor, unconscious. 

I woke a short time later with a hell of a headache, but the ability to breath. I’d successfully cycled the airlock and it was now open to the interior of Port Olisar. My comms were speaking to me. “Rana, are you there? Rana come in! Shit.” 

I keyed my comms and responded, “I’m here, I’m back, I’m alive.” 

I heard Mr. Fields heave a sigh of relief. “Where the hell are you?” 

“I made it into the station.” I said, “I’m in the airlock still, about to head inside.”

He knew what that meant. “Ah, I see. Good luck Sir.” 

“Good luck to you as well.” I responded. “Hope to see you soon."

With that I pulled myself to my feet and examined the damage. My left arm was fine, the laser bolt had only torn through my flight suit, but my right thigh had been burned where it had grazed me. I definitely needed a medic of one form or another for that. 

Well, I hope they’ll get me treatment quickly… I thought to myself. After all, no standard medical facility would treat me with my current Crime Stat, and no licensed pharmacy would sell me any healing equipment, so I couldn’t do it myself either. My only option was to throw myself at the mercy of the Advocacy, which was famously unmerciful and unsympathetic. 

I limped my way into the station and began to draw stares as I passed people. I ignored them. Here I was in a very torn flight suit and helmet, obviously wounded, heading for the elevators- I probably would have stared too. 

I took the elevator to the Galleria and found the orange painted wall that proclaimed, “ADMIN” in big bold letters. To the right of the door stood a blue and white kiosk with a hologram of the scales of justice slowly spinning over the top of it. I stood and stared at it for several minutes, trying to think of any other option, but nothing sprang to mind. I was wounded, tired, hungry, unable to live on the civilized worlds, and had nothing waiting for me but more close calls and eventual death if I didn’t do this. 

I walked to the kiosk and tapped “Login as a User” then entered my credentials. A list of charges appeared with credit amounts next to each of them. I knew it wouldn’t matter if I paid them off, I’d still have a Crime Stat 3. To the right sat the deceptively simple little “Surrender” button. To be honest I was somewhat surprised that I wasn’t swarmed as soon as I entered my credentials at the kiosk, since that identified exactly where I was. 

Taking a deep breath I reached out and tapped the “Surrender” button. 

In just a moment I heard several footsteps behind me. I turned to see a small squad of heavily armed and armored men in gray and white with blue highlights, all bearing the Crusader Security badge, approaching me. None were pointing their guns at me but each of them held their weapons at the ready. 

I spread my arms wide and opened my hands, palms forward, fingers wide to show that I wasn’t holding anything. 

“Citizen Rana,” the leader barked, “you are under arrest for the murder of Citizen Trenton and the destruction of his ship.” 

“Whoah, hey now!” I couldn’t help myself, feigning surprise and concern, “The bounty clearly stated that I was Captain Rana.” 

They didn’t find it nearly as funny as I did. 

____________________________________________________________________________

A month and a half later

____________________________________________________________________________

I never made it to Klescher Rehabilitation Facility, spending my entire pretrial detention period in a holding cell in Orison. Honestly I didn’t mind too much- so long as I didn’t have to go back to Klescher. The flight record data I’d kept with me in my flight suit survived the battle and was entered into Evidence, where it was ultimately reviewed, confirming my story. 

I was released with medical treatment and everything I’d had on me when I was arrested so… not much at all. A torn flight suit and a helmet was about all I had. 

After reviewing security footage of Port Olisar, Mr. Fields and I were both offered a position with Crusader Security, but we both declined- we both were far too attached to roaming around the solar system, making our money any way that we could and knew that we’d be utterly stifled in a corporate security environment. 

We never learned the identity of the bounty hunter that failed to kill me at Port Olisar, but would continue to keep an eye out for a green and white Gladius with terrible aim and worse luck. 

While I waited inside my cell, Mr. Fields closed the deal with Mr. Grinell, leaving me with a hell of a payday when I walked out as a free man. I had already been doing alright but this added a very nice cushion to my bank account. I still didn’t know what we’d recovered for him, but it was clearly worth a lot. Not enough to buy a new vehicle or anything like that, but enough that I would have rent covered for the next couple months. 

I purchased a new flight suit (this one was black, to better hide me against space should I need to do the same thing again) as Mr. Fields flew to Orison to pick me up, then headed out for Area 18 on ArcCorp, where I currently make my home. 

I didn’t really feel like I was all the way free until I walked into my hangar and saw my Cutlass Black sitting there waiting for me. I’d taken to tinkering on her in my downtime and had significantly improved her over her stock configuration. I’d replaced the stock civilian Quantum Drive with a military grade drive which cut travel time by about half, and I’d replaced the stock ballistic gatling guns on top of the forward stabilizers with 2 more CF-227 Badger Laser Repeaters so I no longer had to worry about running out of ammunition in the middle of a battle. As for where and how I got them… well that’s a story for another day. 

But for now? For now I was free and clear, I’d completed my mission, and I was free to finally get to work on the cooling system of my Cutlass. 

Then Mr. Fields hailed me. “Hey Rana, heads up! We’ve got a hot mission. Sounds like an 890 got hijacked, owners want it back in a hurry. You in?”

I was standing in the forward room of the Cutlass, right by the weapons rack (which I kept well stocked at all times). I looked at my tools strewn about the room, then back to my weapons rack and sighed.  

“Yeah, I’m in.”