The Fringe Wars

5.10

Unwanted Hitchhikers

Devil Town, Spate

Critch arrived at the docks to find the Honorless sitting in a bay near the far end. Even after twenty years, his heart still leapt at the sight. She'd been a luxury yacht, belonging to some Alluvian fishing business magnate, when Critch commandeered her and gave her the name she now proudly bore. He'd spent ten years morphing her into the most feared pirate ship across the Collective, capable of taking on any CUF ship smaller than a destroyer, though he'd taken on one of those before and survived.

The Honorless dwarfed the passenger ships and transports docked nearby, making her impossible to hide while on the ground. She was meant to fly, and Critch was looking forward to getting her back up and into the black.

He wasted no time in filing his departure plan with Devil Town's dock control and boarding his ship. After scouring the ship and its systems, he was relieved to find that the greedy pilot hadn't screwed her up as badly as he'd expected. Critch's cabin remained locked, even though there were scratch marks around the keypad where Gabe had obviously tried to circumvent it in an attempt to break in. Several rifles were missing, likely pawned off for credits. And he'd already known both drop tanks would be missing, after hearing they'd been used up in one of Gabe's escapes from either the CUF or Critch's specters.

Critch took a seat in the captain's chair, and suddenly he felt like he was home. He closed his eyes and relished the sensations of being back in the only place that'd ever brought him peace. When he opened his eyes, he pulled out a tiny model of a ship and fastened it to a lever with a string. The ship was nothing special—it could be found in any toy shop on any planet. But this particular one bore great meaning. Having it on board was the closest thing to fulfilling a promise he'd made to a young Terran during the war. Kassel had dreamed of flying. The boy had reminded Critch of himself at that age. As fate turned out, Critch would never be able to teach Kassel how to fly, but he could at least see that a small part of Kassel would experience flight.

He abruptly refocused and began performing system checks. Both he and the Honorlessneeded to be off world. He felt claustrophobic on the ground. He had finished nearly all the pre-flight checks when he heard footsteps.

Critch spun in his chair and whipped out his handgun from his thigh holster.

The dock worker's eyes widened and his hands shot into the air. "Don't shoot me!"

Critch eyed the worker. The middle-aged man was terrified and had no sign of weapons on him. Critch holstered his gun before the man pissed himself. "What do you need?"

The worker lowered his hands slowly. "Ah-all your fuel tanks are full." He gulped. "Is there anything else?"

"I'm good. Just waiting for my final clearance codes."

The worker glanced over Critch's shoulder and nodded in the same direction. "My boy has one just like that. You have a kid, too?"

Critch's eye twitched, and he glanced back at the toy ship. He shook his head. "It's from a kid I knew." He added, "We good here?"

"Oh, yeah. You're all set." The worker frowned. "Don't you have a crew? This is a big ship. You need—"

"I'm on my way to meet up with them." Critch's response was only a half-truth. While he was on his way back to Nova Colony to connect with what was left of his crew, the fact was that he'd been losing his crew one by one. First, Chutt. Then, Birk. Now, Gabe, though he wouldn't miss that piece of shit. He'd have to backfill the positions with fresh meat and spend years building trust and rapport. Sometimes he wondered if it wasn't time to hang it all up and settle down at Nova Colony.

He chuckled inwardly at himself. Like he could ever settle down.

The worker spoke again. "Well, if you need any crew members, I know of a couple guys looking for work."

"I'll keep that in mind. Now, I need to get going."

"Sure. Have a great trip. Come back to Devil Town." He spun on his heel and headed back down the hallway.

Critch turned back to his panel. A few seconds later, he heard footsteps once again. He sighed and turned around to face the dock worker. "Listen, I said—"

A cold object pressed against his neck. Critch froze. Knife or gun, he couldn't tell, not that either mattered, since both would guarantee death. He gave up the thought of reaching for his gun. The earlier feeling of being followed now made sense.

"Who are you?" Critch asked.

"My name doesn't matter. What matters to you is that I was sent by Mason." The voice was most certainly not that of the dock worker. This voice was smooth and steady.

Critch's jaw clenched. "Mason's dead."

"There's a new Mason."

Critch scowled. He'd expected his past to catch up to him, but he'd always figured he'd die on his feet with a gun in his hand. He took a breath and forced his body to relax. "Just get it done, already."

A bright flash, and then everything went black.