14


Path escorted the prisoner to a storage locker we had converted into a brig. Tom had installed plumbing for a toilet and rerouted some of the environmental controls to keep it reasonably comfortable for a human to reside within. The tricky part would be to deliver food without opening the door each time, but that was a problem for later.
I went to the bridge and found Elise in my chair.
“Are you the captain now? Is this a mutiny?” I joked.
“Very funny,” Elise said, moving out of the chair and resuming her previous position.
“Please, Captain. Do not make mutiny references, not even in jest. I’ve been through several and can tell you that the countermeasures are quite barbaric,” Jelly said.
“Sorry about that, Jelly. I’ll make a note,” I promised.
“Thank you, Captain. I will now attempt to restore Elise’s access to the ship. Presently, there isn’t a door that will open or food dispenser that will serve her. The armory will apply counter measures if she approaches it. The list of restrictions that were automatically placed on her when you made the comment about mutiny are extensive,” Jelly explained.
“Interesting,” I said, filing the information for future reference. I wasn’t sure how it might be useful, but it was serious business and something to remember. “Give me an update.”
“We have returned to stealth mode and are on course to pick up the remaining pilot approximately a minute ahead of when the first Union vessels will arrive to the coordinates of his distress beacon,” Jelly said.
“Are you sure it’s a he?” I asked.
“That is a strange and irrelevant inquiry, Captain. There is no way to determine gender in this instance,” Jelly said.
“Forget about it. Just snatch the pilot and get us out of here before Nebs tries a saturation attack of this area,” I said.
“I was meaning to warn you of this very real possibility,” Jelly said. “The moment the pilot disappears from their sensors, they may launch an attack by assuming we are right where the signal disappeared. Vice Admiral Nebs has proved to be a cunning and ruthless opponent.”
“Agreed. Grab the pilot and then get the hell out of the way of whatever he sends at us,” I said.
The Jellybird slowed as we approached the digital speck on the tactical holo representing the pilot. Elise, Tom, and I watched in breathless anticipation.
“I’ve slowed the ship as much as possible. Mathematically, our closing speed is within safety limits. My experience, however, has been that humans are not as durable as ships. There is no time to deploy a shuttle or EVA rescue team. Shall I proceed with a direct rescue?” Jelly asked.
“Just do your best, Jelly. If he didn’t want to get rammed, he should have avoided getting his ship shot,” I said, already tired of this guy I hadn’t met.
“Ready to open the cargo bay now,” Jelly advised. “This will be a rough pickup. Would you like a camera view of the bay?”
“Why not?” I asked, wishing I could smoke a cigar inside of my helmet. The sooner we were done with the ship-to-ship combat stuff, the better. It was really cramping my style. “X, can we integrate the Reaper mask with this helmet?”
“No, Reaper Cain. It would take a new helmet designed for that purpose,” X-37 said.
“I can start working on a design,” Tom said, seeming drained from his stint as weapons officer in his first real battle but always up for a new project. Fancy fixing things was his truest vocation. “Manufacturing it will be tricky, as always. I need to upgrade my workshop.”
“Sounds good.” I watched the holo view of the docking bay.
The damaged fighter looked like a bird that had fallen on its side.
“I have overridden safety protocols,” Jelly informed us. “The bay doors will open and the venting should soften his landing.”
I really needed a cigar.
“And… now,” Jelly said.
I almost missed the pilot shooting in through the open bay doors. He hit the back wall, bounced, and then fell as the Jellybird’s artificial gravity took hold of him.
“How fast was his relative speed?” I asked as I watched the man stagger to his feet and stumble around with both hands holding his helmet.
“Approximately forty kilometers per hour,” Jelly said. “Very survivable for a physically fit human in a flight suit and helmet. I expected much worse.”
“Remind me to never request a hard pickup,” I muttered.
The pilot was taller than normal, especially for someone who had been operating such a small craft. He fell backward, landed on his butt, and sat there with his hands between his legs and his head down toward his chest.
“I wonder if he’ll try to stand up again,” Elise said. “He looks like I feel after Path bonks me on the head with a practice sword.”
I released my safety harness and headed for the door, waiting for the sword saint to join me. “You know the drill, Path. We’ll do this just like the first time.”
“Of course,” Path said.
We strode down the narrow hallway at a less urgent pace than before. “You’re not very talkative today. Make a joke or something.”
He smiled slyly. “A Reaper, a runaway, and a mechanic walk into a bar.”
Laughing in anticipation, I took the bait. “Yeah, then what?”
“That’s as far as I’ve gotten,” Path said.
For some reason, that was the funniest damn thing I’d heard in weeks. We laughed like brothers—awkward brothers—but definitely family. I patted his shoulder as we entered the landing bay to meet our new friend.
“What the hell is happening to me, X?” I asked, not caring that Path could hear our conversation through his earbud. I hadn’t bothered to give X the signal that I wanted privacy.
“Your biometrics indicate that you are approaching the median cognitive and emotional level of human comparison groups,” X-37 explained.
“Oh, sure. Of course.” I laughed, still in a good mood.
“I think X-37 means you are experiencing what normal adult humans feel,” Path said, his manner easy and accepting.
“It’s not bad,” I said, unsure if that was true. Change sucked and I still had a lot of work to get done. “Work on that joke. It sucks.”
“True,” Path agreed.
We entered the bay. The pilot was still sitting there, hands in his lap, head lolling around in vague circles.
“Get his attention,” I said.
Without a word, Path squatted before the Union pilot, staring into his helmet visor until he looked up.
“Are you the last Reaper?” the pilot asked, sounding defeated.
“I am not,” Path said. “Would you like to meet him?”
“No!” The pilot scooted backward, looking around and seeing me for the first time.
Path stayed where he was, but I knew he was close enough to take control of our guest.
“Jelly, how’s the atmosphere in here right now?” I asked.
“It’s a bit chilly, but you can take your helmet off and smoke a cigar if that’s what you’re wanting. I closed the bay door and adjusted pressurization while you were on your way down,” Jelly said.
“Thanks.” I removed the helmet, tapped the button that caused it to collapse as much as was possible, and hung it on the back of my belt. I pulled a cigar from one utility pocket and my lighter from another.
The Union pilot watched me nurse the homemade cigar to life. His gaze flicked to the vertical scar near my cybernetic eye. “That smells horrible.”
“Smells like victory to me. Maybe I’ll call this monstrosity a Reaper Victory Cigar,” I said, clenching it between my teeth. Enjoying the raunchy, unsophisticated taste of the smoke, I held it in front of me. “It’s not half bad.”
The pilot was more than a bit disoriented from slamming into the Jellybird’s bulkhead.
“Why the hell won’t Nebs leave us alone?” I asked, puffing on the cigar.
“If you have to ask that, you don’t know the man at all,” the pilot said.
“I know he’s cruising for a bruising. I should send you back to tell him it’s not going to end well for any of you,” I said. “What’s your name?”
“Captain Eric Randolph, Spector Squadron, Wing Commander,” he said.
“Well, aren’t you important,” I said. “Which carrier is your wing attached to?”
“The UFS Nightmare. I’m not required to tell you more,” he said, seeming to finally realize the gravity of being captured.
“Everyone says that until they meet a Reaper,” I stated.
He had seemed dazed and terrified, but now he was also wrestling with the inherent humiliation of his failure. “Vice Admiral Nebs is going to catch all of you, and we’ll see how tough you are.”