Aside from the terrifying grinding sound as the blast shields on either side of the ship retracted, Zeke hadn’t found many problems with the Sapper, or her owner, on the way out. She manuevered well. The chair was comfortable. The displays immaculate, and clearly had some brand-new components put together by a professional

  Even before they left, he could see a complete 3-D view of the surrounding station and docked ships, helping give a good idea of manuevers… and a smaller, similar one was at the pilot’s station.

  The design was… strange. Zeke had spent the past several years working his way through a variety of contracts, and this was, technically, his first gig as Captain. He recognized parts from at least four different ships… and the one glaring flaw.

  Most of the armor plating and guns were on two enormous blast shields on the left and right side. When you opened them, they exposed a far less armored interior… as well as the bulk cargo storage for the ship. If she were ever in a fight and took damage while she was open….

  It would be a nightmare. While they were closed, it was all good. Great, even. But the lunatic had put only a couple of missile launchers up for use while it was sealed.

  …Granted, if she ever had a fight with a frigate, she could directly open up the cargo bay and fire every single missile at once. Which was certainly… a tactic. One that would be ruined by a single strong EMP burst, but hey. There were at least a couple hundred in there, and even a fairly well-defended ship would at least be damaged unless she were something cruiser sized or above.

  Pros and cons.

  Zeke leaned back in the chair, looking at the display for their projected course. It would be a few days to their destination; the scene of the three attacks; and the course to the five nearby systems most likely to host their pirate was already plotted.

  With three months between attacks, the guy had wanted to set some mines near all the facilities, scatter drones, and wait… pouncing on the pirate as soon as they showed themselves. But when Zeke had mentioned they might want to get things done faster by hunting the pirates down… he’d immediately started work on how to track them down, the best places to go…

  And revealed he had not one, not two, but twelve comm buoys.

  Every one of those expensive gadgets cost more than an interceptor, and could hop back and forth into darkspace to relay messages. If they didn’t find good signs in the main system? They could seed ten of them with buoys that would give them a signal when something moved.

  He slowly shook his head, and stood up. “Well. Kyle… I notice you never gave your last name. Usually, in a professional setting, we don’t use first names.”

  Kyle glanced back at him, and chuckled. “And what about people who want to keep them quiet, because their family has a bit of an unfortunate reputation? You can use Smith if you need to use one, but I’d prefer just Kyle.”

  Zeke laughed. “You realize that there have been hundreds of criminals with Rush for a last name over the years? One of them even a captain? Unless your last name is Hitler, or Akihito, I doubt anyone’s going to care. And if it is, you should change it.”

  Over at the sensor station, Yumi, who’d been familiarizing herself with the controls, looked up at the name Akihito, before shaking her head and turning back to her console.

  He glanced around at the ship. “I got a fairly nice inheritance when my grandfather died. Enough that, by scraping and saving, I bought the parts to make this ship, and enough to keep her running a few years.”

  He focused on Zeke. “Unfortunately, gramps was a bit attached to the family name. If I change it legally, I have to pay it back.”

  Zeke nodded. “Well. No worries on that. Whats our ETA?”

  “Two days, nine hours. She’s been on longer cruises before, just never FTL. Honestly, nobody really needs to do anything right now… the drones are monitoring everything, and will let me know if there’s a problem. We can just relax til then.”

  The furry figure shook his head. “No joy, Kyle. We’ve only got a total of six people on this boat aside from myself. I trust Jenny and Will… I mean Billy. Dealt with them for years. But no matter how good automation is, things sometimes go wrong. Everyone’s credentials look good except Clarice and Tom, you and Billy had experience before you started school. So. Three shifts. I run the first, Jenny the second, you the third.”

  He glanced around. “I’ll take Tom on the first. Jenny can take Clarice on the second. You, Billy, and Yumi can take the third. Just in case we’re jumping right into a fight on arrival, we’ll want to make sure everyone’s rested and prepped right then.”

  Zeke glanced around the bridge. There were six different consoles, with Yumi at one of them, Kyle at another, the others empty… and slots where more could easily be fit in. This ship could carry dozens of people, and have one person running every single one of the sixteen turrets… but it was clear the adjustments were a bit mediocre. All of the consoles other than Kyle’s own were identical.

  The group all looked around at each other. The level of uniformity was a bit odd; Zeke hadn’t expected to run into more people with their particular genetic augment out in the galaxy, but apparently his cousin had gone looking.

  “One extra note, for those of us with fur. I want you to thoroughly brush, in a contained space, once per day. And I do mean thoroughly. If we end up cleaning out the filters more often than we should because of shedding, I’ll be running a test on it, and whoever causes the problem will be on filter duty throughout the trip.”

  Aside from Yumi and Kyle, the rest all just nodded; they’d dealt with it before.

  Kyle blinked… “Uhm… I’ve actually got a bot to clean out the filters.”

  “Then hold onto whatever it cleans out of them.. And be prepared to turn them off if need be. Crawling through a vent shaft to change out a filter is a good solid reminder to care about how you impact the rest of the crew.”

  Billy rubbed the back of his head, glancing away. Zeke smirked, before shaking his head.

  “Anyways. While we’re on the way out, I want everyone to familiarize yourself with the layout. Move around. Get used to how weird it all is. Aside from Tom and Yumi being the only ones with medical training, everyone here knows how to handle sensors, piloting, weapons, comms, the whole nine yards. Our ship owner was nice enough to program sims into every single console. While you’re on-shift and we’re on the way there, I want everyone to split their shift between doing maintenance checks and running sims. Otherwise… just look at the timing and make sure you’re well-rested for arrival. Everyone but Tom is dismissed. First shift officially started… thirty-seven minutes ago. So I want Jenny and Clarice here for the handoff in seven hours and three minutes.”

  This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

  The six gathered crew looked at each other. Kyle looked at his console, then back at Zeke…and Jenny sighed.

  “You idiots. We’re off-duty. Go relax. Grab some food. Get off the bridge. Look around.”

  ***

  Kyle hit the button on the microwave, and watched as the tray slowly spun in circles inside… before glancing at the table in the small galley. He hadn’t expected to use this room much unless he had to rescue some refugees or some such nonsense, but… here he was. Playing host to a whole crew of mostly-furry people he had never met… or only barely knew.

  Billy and Clarice were both sitting at one table beside each other, eating something… spicy… while Yumi was at the other end… all of them using chopsticks. He frowned. He’d seen Billy using a fork before. Was it… no. Didn’t matter.

  He sat down across from Billy, nodding as he scooped up some fake mashed potatoes… and Jenny settled in beside him.

  “So. Why the augment suit? Accident, or genetic defect?”

  He blinked, staring at her for a moment. Billy started coughing around whatever kind of noodle he had halfway to his mouth, and Kyle sighed.

  “Why, exactly, are you so concerned?”

  She stared at him, unapologetic. It was impossible to judge ages, but from the scars and the silver hair, she was probably at least somewhat older… but then, it was clearly not natural silver.

  “If that thing fails, are you helpless? Am I gonna need to drag your ass around?”

  He sighed. “In zero-G, I don’t need it at all. And I’m taking supplements that should clear up the issue in a few years. I can move without it, I just…. Well. Break bones. Way too easily.”

  A firm nod. “Good. Why not just get it cleared with a genetic cleanse? It’d cost less than the reactor you put in this thing, and not take months. Planning to work in Alliance space?”

  Of course. Jumping to conclusions. “For the former, that’s private. For the latter… I couldn’t. My folks are both augments, though unfortunately not the same kind, or I wouldn’t have the issue.”

  She seemed thoughtful… and nodded. “Works.” She immediately turned to her own food and started eating, as if she hadn’t been unbearably nosy just moments before.

  Across the table, Billy shook his head. “Don’t worry. She’s a bit direct, but Zeke’s been talking up her piloting skills for years now. With her on-board and that little Valkyrie of hers, we don’t need to worry about any gunships.”

  She grumbled around a mouthful of chicken, and nodded. “Mpf.”

  But then… she stopped, and swallowed. “Ahem. Assuming I can get it out of the launch bay in time. This design is shit. There’s a reason most ships just have doors. You should add one. Don’t like boarding her in a vacuum.”

  Kyle chuckled. “This isn’t a carrier. Its an explorer. If it comes down to a fight, its supposed to dump enough missiles and combat drones to either solve the problem or slow it down… button up its armor…and run. If it weren’t just some piddling little gunship, I wouldn’t have taken this job.”

  “Mm.” She nodded. “Over a hundred missiles in there. And I think there was at least one nuke in there. Geiger counter went off as I was checking.”

  He glanced around at the sudden perked-up interest of the others. Billy, especially, had his eyes wide. “Ahh… We don’t need to discuss that.”

  His former classmate leaned forward. “Uhh…. we should talk about that one, later.”

  Of course. “Sure. We’ll be on-shift together when we get up in the morning. We can talk then.”

  “I know you’re not going to sleep yet. I’m sure there’s something left you want to work on.”

  ***

  As Kyle stepped through the airlock, he checked his helmet one last time; this chamber was currently pressurized, and it all showed green… but this massive chamber was all the leftover space between the core hull and the two blast shields. One button could open either shield, spilling the air inside into vacuum… and he didn’t trust ‘Ezekiel Rush’ nearly as much as Billy, here.

  As they walked by an enormous rack; dozens of missiles, all pointed away from the hull, attached to a fairly odd looking shelf with dozens of wires on it.. Barry glanced at it.

  “...So. You realize that just dumping missiles like that is… mediocre? They’ll be going so slow at first that point defense will totally wipe them like mad.”

  Kyle glanced back… and chuckled. “That shelf has a shield generator in the wall behind it. In an emergency, it can trigger and hurl the whole rack into the void, breaking apart as it goes… with missiles scattering every which way before turning to seek a target. At close range, its almost as good as a volley from a missile cruiser. At long range? Its pretty much the same as a volley from a missile cruiser. And there’s one on either side. Over two hundred missiles in one shot… maybe including a nuke.”

  As they arrived at their current objective; a ball-shaped object with a couple of engines mounted to its sides, magnetically grappled to a frame, with, of all things, a pair of gatling guns strapped to the bottom of it and a ring of smaller missiles on racks at its sides between the engines… Billy studied the thing, then glanced at Kyle.

  “...Why do you have a nuke? Not only is it illegal for a merc in some places… but flak missiles, breacher missiles, plasma… you could afford dozens of them for the price of just one. A setup like this, you could have like… forty plasma warheads.”

  “I didn’t pay for it. It…. was a birthday present. And…. its a 210. She didn’t even get me one small enough to fit in the tubes up front, I have to launch it out of the bay like this, or mount it to the hull before the fight starts..”

  He slowly shook his head. “Only a fucking Huxley. Do you have a license for it?”

  “Yeah. I was certified for handling them when I was twelve, and she paid for the license to go with the delivery.”

  “...Not planning on nuking anybody, are you?”

  Kyle chuckled… as he stepped up to the combat drone. “If we run into a gunship, the turrets can handle it. Or a few flak missiles from the forward tube. A corvette or a frigate, those missiles on the wall will probably kill it. If I mix a few dazzlers in with them, and that nuke? It might just be enough to take out a cruiser. Just because she’s not a warship doesn’t mean I don’t want to make it home alive. It would just be… an insanely expensive volley. Just the nuke would sell for anywhere from fifty to a couple hundred grand, depending on the buyer.”

  Billy sighed, as he studied the craft. “...So what the fuck is this thing, anyway? On the spec sheet you just listed sixteen combat drones.”

  “Mars-class fighter…one of the original ones, from before the first galactic war. The Republic spat out millions of them. I slapped a computer inside it, moved most of the sensitive components inside the cockpit instead of mounted on the hull like they used to be… and poof. Cheap combat drone.”

  “...Where’s the other gatling gun? Those things had three. I guess I can see the resemblance, now.”

  “Sacrifices. Out of twenty Mars’s I salvaged, I only got enough components to make thirty-five working guns. Instead of having eleven drones with three guns each, I made sixteen with two… and repurposed the rest of them.”

  “.....Huh. Every one of those is like… six needle rifles put together. What’d you use them for? Ground combat drones?”

  “I do have a few of those… but no. I used them for a last-ditch ship defense system. Hopefully you never have to see it. Anyways!”

  Kyle smacked the side of the drone. “I realized that these old gatling needle guns had way too much coolant capacity for the purpose. Even as tiny as needles are, there’s only like fifteen hundred per gun. This thing could fire every one of those fifteen hundred in less than a minute.. And it would take two minutes of sustained fire to actually cause barrel warping from overheating. I figured I could add an extra ammo feed and make them fire two bullets at once from opposing barrels, double the firing rate.”

  Billy stared at it for a moment. “....Or. You could upgrade the feed its got… and have it fire all six barrels at once, spin through, loading them all, fire, then load again, like a six-barreled shotgun. And this thing is already ridiculously fragile. You could strip away the armor on the front of the engines, and have more weight for ammo, without really dropping how durable it is. If it had enough rounds to fire for two solid minutes that heat capacity would be worthwhile.”

  “...I knew there was a reason I liked you. How about we build a sample of our options, scan them, and then we can run sims of the results while we’re on-shift?”

  “Sounds good.” Billy frowned. ‘Liked him’? He’d never seen the reclusive boy flirt with any of the girls at the classes. Surely he didn’t mean…. Nah.