The Hidden Prophet: Starship Fairfax Book 2 - The Kuiper Chronicles Read online

  The sound of the window breaking was dwarfed by the rush of air as all of the observation deck’s atmo was sucked out of the room in a matter of seconds. Cupid’s hook sank into the floor, ripping up carpet, subflooring, and a sharp-looking twist of metal. Ada fought to hold onto Joyce.

  “Moses, can you open a comm between our suits?”

  “Confirmed”

  “What did you do??” Joyce screamed over the comm.

  “Joyce, you have to activate your mag-boots. They’re on your arm console. Can you do it?”

  Some more struggling amid panicked gasps for air, and Joyce had turned about to find her console. “Where?”

  “To the right. Yes, there. Now sub-menu. Good. Lock them in!”

  Joyce fell to the deck, her boots sticking. Ada breathed a momentary sigh of relief. Outside, Cupid had spun around so that her rear faced them, and the back hatch had opened, coming down about ten meters away from the exterior of the station. Ada grabbed hold of the wire from the grappling hook.

  “Just crawl over?” she asked.

  “Just crawl over,” Moses said. “I advise speed with caution.”

  She scoffed. “You don’t say. That’s a lot of open space to cross in the middle of a battle. You couldn’t hover a little closer?”

  “Structural integrity of the station is failing. Increased proximity would exponentially increase the risk of— ”

  “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Coming over.”

  The rush of atmo had calmed. Ada crossed to the edge of the station and peered out into the void, gulping. Her first spacewalk. Of course it couldn’t have been a nice, controlled environment. The ship quaked, and she grabbed hold of the wire. “Joyce, come here.”

  Joyce joined her, and Ada guided her to stand in front. Once she had a good grip on the wire, Ada reached for her console and deactivated her boots. “Now just pull yourself across, ok? Arm over arm. Don’t let go, no matter what.”

  “Ok.” Joyce nodded, still panting a bit. She closed her eyes and began to pull.

  Another boom, another quake.

  “You’re doing great, Joyce. A little faster, maybe?” Ada was still waiting on the deck, Joyce directly in front of her, about two feet out.

  Joyce nodded again and moved. When she was about halfway out, Ada deactivated her boots and kicked off behind her, floating out along the wire and guiding herself with her good hand.

  “Ada, we have a problem,” Moses said. “Please hurry.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I believe one of the attacking ships may have taken an interest in Cupid. They’re heading our way, guns first.”

  Ada cursed.

  “Can you retract the hook and tow us behind while we climb?”

  “Negative. The hook appears to have embedded itself in the station, and will have to be detached entirely once you are aboard.”

  “Lovely. Joyce, move it!”

  “I’m moving it!” Another few seconds passed, Joyce still pulling herself along. There had to still be five meters between her and the ship.

  The station quaked, shaking the wire with it, and Joyce and Ada both held it close to their bodies. Debris shot out into the void like shrapnel. Ada forced herself to breathe in through her nose, out through her mouth. Keep calm. There was nothing she could do if some passing chunk of metal shredded her suit, so it was useless to worry.

  “Joyce, MOVE!”

  Joyce made an effort and closed another two meters before the next blast hit the station. This time the explosion was directly overhead, the fireball lighting up space and casting Cupid in a warm glow. The wire seemed to fly wildly for a moment, as ship and station veered apart and together.

  “Gah!” Ada lost her grip with her right hand and tried to grab with her left, and was rewarded with more shooting pain. She blinked back the blackout that threatened to take over, and hooked her left arm around the wire instead, hugging it with her elbow. As she twisted in space, she saw a large, thin metal sheet flying toward her—must have been part of the station’s exterior, she thought. She cringed, ducking, and the sheet passed cleanly between her and Joyce.

  Cutting the wire.

  Chapter 13

  “NO!” Caspar screamed in rage. Lucas watched the screen in horror, the frozen planetoid transforming into a fiery hell in a matter of seconds. Mulligan sobbed behind him.

  Randall kept them in a tight curve and used the momentum to jet them away from the surface.

  “Incoming blast,” Jeffrey announced.

  If the ship was moving before, it took off like a banshee the moment the blast hit. Randall had them angled so that the force of the explosion added to their thrust, and they were pummeled out into space like a bullet, everyone plastered to their seats by the additional gravity.

  When they finally began to slow, Lucas shook away the burgeoning headache and took a few deep breaths, telling himself he wouldn’t be sick. Randall was sick all over the floor beside the helm console.

  “Why?” Caspar asked. “What could they possible gain by nuking a civilian planetoid hab? Was it a hit of some kind?” She spun around to face Darren, who had unstrapped from his chair.

  “No,” he said. “I don’t think so.”

  “Then what! You’re the expert killer in the room, so please explain to us what could possibly motivate someone to rain hell down like that on a whole community of—”

  “They’re sending a message,” he said. “It’s an underworld coup. What you witnessed with the mafia families pales in comparison. Rome wants the whole system to know they own this space.” He turned his back on the rest of the bridge, an arm around Mulligan.

  “Will anyone survive?” Lucas muttered. He remembered that Rust and the other Ceres settlements had been hewn from the rock beneath a vast worldwide ocean that rolled darkly beneath the surface ice. There were many ways he wouldn’t wish to die, but drowning might have been at the top of his list. He closed his eyes, heaving a sigh of pity for those trapped below.

  “Statistically, no,” Jeffrey answered. “However, survivors of the initial blast and extensive flooding are currently launching from the surface in escape pods.”

  “What?” Lucas looked up at the screen. “Jeffrey, please highlight the pods on tactical.”

  “I don’t much see the point. But very well.”

  Lucas spotted them on the cam view just as they showed up on tactical, three oblong ships, not much to them but some thrust behind and a bunch of cargo space before, presumably full of survivors. He hoped.

  “Helm, take us to the nearest pod.”

  “Aye, Sir.” Randall wiped the side of his mouth and brought them around on course to intercept.

  “Mulligan?” He turned. “You with me?”

  She sniffed, wiping her nose, and nodded. “Sir.”

  “Do you feel up to meeting survivors on the hangar deck?”

  She nodded again, stood, and left the bridge. Darren followed.

  “Incoming livefeed,” Jeffrey announced.

  “Onscreen. Please.”

  “Freighter.” The speaker was a pale, rather delicate-looking man, sitting in the chair on an impressive looking bridge. “Stay on course. First blood is yours. I want the other two.”

  “First blood?”

  “The pods.” The man leaned forward. “Low-hanging fruit, I know, but we get our thrills where we can. Am I right?” He flashed a completely sincere grin, lifting his eyebrows as he did.

  “You’re going to shoot them down!?”

  The man frowned. “Well, I thought we were going to shoot them down together, but I gather from your tone that you’d rather not bond over blood with me. Shame. I’m a charming fellow to bond with. Stay clear then, they’re mine. You will be, too, if you get in my way.” The feed ended.

  Caspar cursed loudly. “Is anyone really that sick?”

  “Let’s not give him a chance to show us. Good flying, Randall. Bring us up alongside, tract them in.”

  “Aye, Sir.”

 
“Jeffrey, open hangar bay C doors, please.”

  “Confirmed. Letting the vermin onboard.”

  “Jeffrey, please refrain from colorful comments for the next ten minutes.”

  “Doors open. Tractor engaged.”

  “Good.” Lucas nodded to Randall. Bring us alongside the next pod as soon as they’re onboard. Lieutenant, tell me something good.”

  “Jeffrey’s disabled target locking. I can’t get a bead on anything, be they friend or foe… or both, I guess.”

  “Jeffrey, any chance your programmer would make an exception if firing upon a Rome Inc. ship was the only way to prevent this ship from being destroyed.”

  “Negative, Captain.”

  A thought occurred. “What if it was the only way to prevent your majesty, Lord Jeffrey, from also being destroyed?”

  “Impossible. In the event of ship destruction, my consciousness is jettisoned onboard a specially designed courier probe that will return me to Rome Inc. property.”

  Lucas stood. “Lieutenant, you have the bridge.”

  “Aye, Sir.”

  He stormed toward the doors.

  “Captain Jack? Captain Harris? Sir, where are you going?” Jeffrey sounded flustered.

  “You know where, or you’re a sorrier excuse for an AI than even I thought.” He came to the doors. They woudn’t open.

  “I can’t let you do that, Sir.”

  Lucas cursed. They only had a few courier probes, all located on the hangar deck. If he could manually deploy them and shoot them out of the sky, maybe he could force Jeffrey’s hand. But he couldn’t do anything about it from the bridge.

  “Taken care of, Sir.” Mulligan’s voice was raw, but still a little smug, over the comm.

  “You wouldn’t dare,” Jeffrey said. Beep. “She did!”

  Lucas smirked. Her comm had been open the whole time, and she must have deployed the probes as soon as she heard Jeffrey mention them. Clever.

  “Private, if we get out of this mess alive, remind me to promote you. Jeffrey, you were saying?”

  “I’ve got my lock back, Sir!” Caspar ran the back of her arm over her forehead.

  “Only if you are fired upon, do you have permission to fire,” Jeffrey said. He sounded morose.

  “I can live with that,” Lucas said. “For now. Mulligan, is the pod secured?”

  “On deck, Sir. Ready when you are.”

  Randall brought them into a wide arc to circle back for the next escape pod.

  “Livefeed,” Jeffrey said. The same pale little man appeared.

  “I don’t know whether to berate you for spoiling my fun, or to blow you a kiss for making it more interesting. Are you ready to dance, freighter?”

  “We don’t want trouble with you,” Lucas said. “We’re just doing what obviously need to be done.”

  “Ooo, bit of a cowboy, aren’t you? I like that. I like fighting lawmen. Consider this my acceptance of your challenge.” He showed them his teeth, garishly, and the screen went back to the cam and tactical split. On the tactical side, Lucas saw one of the dots from the bombing formation break away and begin heading toward the Fairfax—and toward the pods.

  “That’s our guy,” he said. “Caspar, guns at the ready.”

  “Oh, I’m ready.” A steely edge came into her voice, more than Lucas thought he’d heard before. He was glad they were on the same side of this fight.

  But the incoming ship didn’t home in the Fairfax. Instead, it locked onto the pod farthest away.

  And fired.

  The pod blew apart in a fireball. They didn’t need an AI to tell them there were no survivors.

  Chapter 14

  Ada’s world was a spinning hellscape of fire, metal, and the unforgiving void. She grunted, pulling herself back to the observation deck and locking her mag-boots on. Beneath her, Ceres had erupted into a tiny star, and Cupid had pulled up and away to evade the blast.

  Uh oh.

  She stomped across the deck as quickly as she could, and searched frantically for some shelter. She found none. The blast hit the station, rocking it violently. The heat came after. But the blast had tilted the open hull of the observation deck up, away from the planetoid, so the searing wave passed by without taking Ada head-on, and her suit held.

  She breathed. Still alive.

  “Moses?” Silence. “Moses, are you there?” Cautiously, she made her way back to the edge, and peered over. It was difficult to see what was happening from her new vantage point. What had caused the sudden fiery apocalypse below? Volcanism? She frowned. Then she remembered that formation of spacecraft that had been doing runs over the surface.

  Bombers.

  “Moses? I could use some help, here.”

  “Ada, yes, hello. Apologies. The comm was taken out by the blast and subsequent wave, but I’ve boosted the signal with the backup battery. We are circling back to your position.”

  She blew out a sigh. “Did Joyce make it onboard?”

  “Affirmative. She and the others are alive and well, as well as can be.”

  Others? “Um… you mean her and Bone Crusher, right?”

  “You’ll see soon enough. Here we are.” Cupid peeled into view, firing front thrusters to slow and hover again. Again, the ship turned and the back hatch opened. Joyce stood in her suit inside the airlock, reaching out as if to catch her. Moses backed it up a little more this time. “How does that look, Ada?”

  “Is this closer than before?”

  “Affirmative.”

  “Could have fooled me.”

  “Can you make it over without a wire? We’re closed the gap significantly, to just—”

  “Don’t tell me how far.” She took a couple of deep breaths. “Next time I’m wandering around a station spending someone else’s money, remind me to get a suit with thrusters.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Ok, here goes.” Her mag-boots didn’t allow her to run, per se, but she gained better momentum with them on than off. Her finger hovered over her console, and she swiped them off just as she reached the edge. Left foot on the lip, she bent her knee and kicked as hard as she could, diving into open space.

  She wasn’t going to make it, she could tell. If it had been in a controlled vacuum, maybe. But the station was wobbly, and Cupid moved while she hovered, despite Moses’ best attempts to keep her still. Joyce leaned out as far as she could and reached for her. “Come here, you pirate swine,” she said into her comm.

  “Trying,” Ada grunted. She reached out and make contact—with her left hand. “Ahhh!” She saw spots and faded out for a second. When she came to, Joyce was cursing prolifically, hanging on to her by the fabric of her suit. Ada’s momentum had carried her beyond the hatch, and if Joyce let go, she would fly out past Cupid altogether.

  “Snap your mag-boots on!” Joyce screamed over the comm.

  Still fuzzy-headed, Ada reached to her console and swiped. The boots sucked her to the hull, where she stood like a space-surfer on Cupid’s side. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing for a moment.

  “Thanks, Joyce,” she managed to mutter.

  “Yeah, well, you owe me. Bad wine, worst taxi ride ever.”

  Ada chuckled.

  After cycling through the airlock, they stepped into the tiny cargo hold.

  “Ada!” Bone Crusher picked her up and nearly squeezed the wind out of her. She managed to keep her left wrist elevated and free from being jostled too much, though lifted it caused her to wince.

  “Good to see you too, you big brute.” Joyce snapped her comm off and removed her headgear. Ada, back on her feet, did the same. Her jaw dropped open. Bone Crusher’s date—the owner of the station level she’d just leapt from—stood in front of her, with a young man at either side, both in sharply tailored suits.

  “Hope she was worth it, Crush. We almost got smashed to bits.”

  “Nice to meet you too, Dianna.” Ada held out her right hand. Dianna looked at it with a subtle sneer.

  “You may a
ddress me as Lady Umbrador, if you really have to address me. Better yet, let’s not talk much. Life’s too short to waste on hopeless causes.”

  Ada nodded and walked past her, forcing one of her shoulder men to detach and flatten himself to the wall. There was an air of shock. She didn’t care.

  On her way through the living area she jumped out of her suit and tossed it onto her bunk. More time to worry about being tidy later. Time to worry about escaping with their lives right now. She burst into the cockpit and took her seat.

  “What’s the situation, Moses?”

  “The station has been rendered into five pieces, each of which is at various levels of disintegration. Ceres has been bombed. The area is saturated in radiation. I recommend immediate evacuation.”

  “Sounds like a plan. Let’s get out of here.”

  “The area has been surrounded by mid-size warships, heavily armed, ID’d as belonging to Rome Inc.”

  “That who was firing at us before?”

  “Affirmative. Furthermore, a small fleet of Empire ships are watching from further out in orbit.”

  “What, do they find this whole thing entertaining? Of all the sick, sadistic—”

  Bone Crusher popped into the standing room behind her, looking a little sheepish.

  “Crush, what is that woman doing on my ship?”

  “Your ship?” He quirked an eyebrow. “Ada, we stole this from Carmen together, remember? Fair and square.”

  “Fine. What’s she doing on our ship?”

  “You saw the station—it’s not safe for anyone there! The way I figure, we’re saving lives. And it’s not just her. It’s those two boys, too. They’re like refugees, Ada. You and me, we’re like real life heroes!”

  “They aren’t refugees, they’re her lackeys, Crush. Now we have three more mouths to feed, three more pairs of lungs sucking up air, three more voices bouncing around this can while we sail off to… to…” She trailed off. Now that she thought about it, she had no idea where to go next.

  “Dianne paid for all the provisions on board.”

  She sighed. “Crush, for a big, bulky, pit-fighting pirate, sometimes you can be annoyingly reasonable.”

  He shrugged. “I’m not just a pretty face.”