Rifle barrels levelled at every head in the room. Those held by Saul and Aiden were aimed at Station Security. Saul's former muscle fixed their sights on both Saul’s side and at the officers. Station Security aimed theirs squarely at him.

  “You've gone and fucked us, Calmos,” Charles spat, his attention now solely trained on the half-open crates of cargo, “Earthing hell, it’s clams!”

  “Pacific razor clams,” Aiden snorted, reading the crate plaque, “and lobster.”

  “And a dairy cow in stasis,” Luan said.

  Saul needed them to focus. He knew that a lapse in concentration now might just be the gust to push this whole thing over a cliff.

  “Now,” Saul started, “we've two options, the way I see it.”

  “You’ve one,” said an out-of-breath pale-skinned woman wearing an indigo jumpsuit, her voice resonant behind her faceplate.

  “Yeah? Says who?” Luan said from his seat on a crate, where he was nursing the gash across his forehead.

  “Sergeant Lisa Hutteno, Merchant Fleet,” Hutteno announced in a hastened sense of ceremony.

  “Well, look at that. Cap, she's one of us!” Aiden said sardonically.

  The Sergeant had the lean build and characteristic short-cropped hair of anyone who’d grown up outside of a planet’s gravity well. On either side, she was supported by a man in half-buttoned naval garb as if they had been sleeping when they’d got the call to come down here.

  “Couldn't help but notice you're out of uniform, Sergeant,” Saul said.

  “Could say the same about you, captain,” she said, fixing her gaze on him.

  “Enough. Enough!” Charles squawked, finished with his inspection of the crates. “Someone better tell me what the options are here. Big man says two options; lady say one. Out with it!” he shifted his gun back and forth between Saul and Hutteno. Saul could tell he was growing more nervous.

  “You've got one chance. Drop your arms. Come with me. No one gets hurt,” Hutteno said with calm decisiveness.

  “Or,” Saul objected, “we could all turn, go our separate ways. This cargo’s not what we came for anyway. We'd be better to leave well enough alone. Go back to our regular lives.” The way he said it, he almost felt like he meant it.

  “That's where I'd disagree,” Olivio said. “I've already sacrificed many men. Earth be dead and their families scorned if I lose anything else. I’ve me and mine to look out for. You understand.”

  “Careful, Cruz.” Hutteno interrupted. “You seem to be forgetting those charges I had you up on last time. This would be your last strike.”

  “Cap, hey cap!” Aiden whispered without turning his head. “What about Taika? He's still with us, no?”

  Saul's expression remained steely. He could feel the cannon in his hand wavering. He couldn't remember the last time he'd held it this long, let alone fired the damned thing outside of a gallery.

  “Sergeant,” Saul said, bringing her attention back to him. “You've got a man of mine. A chatty fellow, good with terminals.”

  “I've got a criminal; a data thief,” Hutteno retorted. “And a delinquent dockhand, though I don't see what interest you should have in them going forward. If you were smart, and I feel you might be, you and your men should lay yourselves slowly on the decking and deal with the consequences.”

  “Not earthing likely,” Aiden whispered again.

  “What's that?” Hutteno tested.

  “I said not in a green Earth’s chance!” Aiden spat.

  “Now you're just antagonising her,” Luan chimed in, standing up from his crate. He struggled for a moment to keep his balance.

  Hutteno just shook her head.

  “You seem to think, miss,” Olivio interrupted. “You seem to think that we are his men also.”

  “I don't rightfully care what you think I think, Cruz,” she said, her patience waning.

  “People, people. There's no way this is going to end without at least a bit of population reprioritization. The thing is whether you all want to stick around flashing barrels at each other or get to it,” Charles said, his anxiety morphing into a blood fever.

  “It won’t come to that, Charles,” Saul said. “I'm sure there's a way we can all get out of here without all killing each other in the process. I know the good sergeant here wouldn't want that.”

  “You've got to the count of five,” Hutteno held up one hand, five fingers outstretched, “to lower your weapons.”

  “She's not serious,” Aiden said, unconvinced.

  Hutteno’s fingers dropped to four.

  “She’s serious,” said Aiden, changing his mind at once.

  “You've got to have some steel ones,” Charles said.

  “Now, sergeant, I know there's a way we can—” Saul started.

  “Four.” Hutteno barked.

  “She's not messing, this one,” Olivio insisted. Saul could see Olivio taking a step back. Subconsciously, Saul followed suit.

  “Three,” Hutteno barked again. Aiden stepped back towards the open cargo hold.

  The officers behind Hutteno stiffened in anticipation.

  “Two,” Hutteno continued.

  “This won't end well,” Luan said, now tucking himself behind the crate he was sitting on.

  “Sergeant, we don't have to do this. There's nothing here for us. Just let us pick up and leave,” Saul pleaded.

  “Speak for yourself, old man!” Olivio said.

  Charles let out a feral roar, pushing his arm in an arc towards the sergeant, levelling his gun at her and pulling the trigger. His fevered ferocity was only interrupted by a deep and deadening:

  “One!”

  Hutteno and her men opened a salvo of metal ricocheting off of every bulkhead, cargo container, and scrap heap in the bay. Aiden, Luan, and Saul scattered towards cover, dodging as Olivio and his men returned fire.

  Charles kept wailing as he fired, producing a second smaller pistol from inside his suit. He sprayed endless rounds at the officers. Somehow, it seemed as if neither side was shooting at Saul.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  He and Aiden found cover behind the outcropping of the bay doors. He fired a few potshots at the other security officers.

  “Black earth, how did we get into this mess!” Aiden screamed. His voice was higher pitched than Saul had ever remembered him capable. That said, they had spent most of their time together on uneventful sailings, so it had always been simple enough to keep a cool head.

  “I've got an idea!” Saul said. “We need to shut the bay doors!”

  “And do what? Pilot the Par Abadd out of here? The thing’s an elephant!” Aiden snorted, firing a few shots at the muscle.

  Hutteno was still on them, shot after shot. She managed to land close to Olivio's head as he wailed, “You getting tired–?”

  Instead of responding, she levelled her pistol and fired a single shot. Shrapnel impacted the top of Olivio’s bald head, tearing through and away a fist-sized piece.

  Olivio dropped to the floor like a waterlogged sack of rags. So did one of the officers, on which Charles had landed a lucky hit to their shoulder. The man screamed, clutching the jacket around the wound and dropping his rifle. Charles kept firing, howling and tearing what was left of the man apart.

  “No,” Saul said, diverting Aiden's attention from the fight. “We close the doors, wheel the cargo over to the evac lift and force it into the black. Then, we get The Diggory to pick us and the cargo up.”

  “You never had any intention of giving up this haul, did you?” Aiden asked.

  Saul just shook his head. He took another shot. It bounced off the crate in front of one of the last of the remaining muscle.

  “You're up for it?” Saul asked Aiden.

  “Yeah. I'm up for it,” Aiden said, his trademark smile returning to his lips despite the carnage.

  “Good, I'll cover you. Just reach the access controls. They’re at the far end of the ship's cargo hold, just behind us.” He gestured to a royal blue box several metres away. “See it?”

  “Yeah, I see it,” Aiden confirmed.

  “Just get your terminal plugged in. You've got to be quick, though. As soon as those idiots out there know what we're doing, their attention is going to shift back over to us.”

  “Got it,” Aiden said. “And, go!”

  Without much warning, Aiden leapt into a full stride. Reaching the control box in seconds, he ripped off the cover with such force that it clanged to the ground where it dropped.

  This didn't faze Hutteno, but it did draw Charles’ attention their way. Still firing wildly at the sergeant, Charles made eye contact with Saul.

  Saul knew he wasn't pleased.

  “Hey, you two,” Charles squealed at the muscle. “You want to get paid? You get over there to The Parr Abadd!” He made his way over to them, narrowly missing a few expertly placed shots by the sergeant just to pull the two men out of their hiding positions.

  The first, stumbling to his feet, was picked off by the other remaining officer. He went down, breaking his nose on the steel floor with an audible pop. Charles took the opportunity to level his rifle at the officer. He fired. She screamed, falling backwards into the wall.

  This only made Hutteno angrier, and when the final muscle was forced out by Charles, she took him down with a clean shot through his heel.

  The man screamed as he fell, falling silent the moment his skull broke against the floor.

  “You've no idea how much you've fucked this up!” Charles said, directing his fury at Hutteno. He abandoned his cover, moving towards her menacingly. He was far from intimidating at the best of times, Saul thought, but he would hate to be on Charles' receiving end right now.

  Hutteno didn't shy away either, instead of firing several rounds at Charles’ midsection. Charles, squirming under the barrage to his ribs and stomach, managed to get off three shots of his own. The second to last tore through the sergeant’s midsection, sending blood spouting down her hip.

  Charles dropped like a log, but Hutteno stayed standing motionless for a moment. She looked almost like a marionette, her limbs awkwardly positioned, her expression bare, her mouth open. She looked over at Saul, wide-eyed.

  Aiden had just finished patching into the controls when Hutteno hit the deck.

  “Got it!” Aiden said, regardless of the whole situation. He activated the control to close the bay doors.

  “No, wait. Stop!” Saul said to Aiden.

  Aiden halted the doors, confused. Saul rushed over to Hutteno.

  “Is there a medkit in the bay?” Saul yelled at Aiden.

  “I don't–” Aiden said, flustered.

  “Look!” Saul barked.

  He ran to the officer who had been wearing the most uniform when the fighting broke out. He cut off some scraps of the man's naval jacket and took it over to the sergeant.

  She was barely conscious, pale-skinned — paler than before — and noticeably groggy. Saul pressed the scraps into the wound.

  “Aiden, anything?” Saul pleaded.

  “Nothing. Nothing. Wait!” Aiden brushed aside some very precariously stacked crates to reveal a far out-of-date medical kit.

  “Here!” Aiden said as he rushed over and handed Saul a tube of bandage, spilling the rest of the kit's contents in a trail behind him.

  Saul applied the bandage, realising he was now trying to save the officer who had tried to kill him not more than ten minutes ago.

  “Saul, she's not in great shape,” Aiden reasoned, “and we've gotta get out of here. More security rats will be coming.”

  Saul considered it, leaving her here to die. He thought of the risk it would be to take her. Then he decided he didn't care.

  “Security’s at the far end of the station. It will be at best twenty minutes before they can scramble themselves this way. Best chance she has is with us.” And with that, he hoisted her up and over his shoulder.

  “Doesn't that bandage need to sit?” Aiden said.

  “No time. For bleeding this bad, it will only slow it. And we've got to move.”

  “What about the cargo?” Aiden said.

  “That's all you,” Saul said, sardonically. As if he'd come all this way just to leave the cargo behind.

  “You've got ten minutes to move the crates into the lift and launch them to the outside. I'm going to head back on foot and get the shuttle. You put on a suit and strap yourself onto the haul.”

  Saul could see the look of concern on Aiden's face. Or was it distrust? It hadn't been that long since they'd reunited, and honestly, Saul hadn't given the man much reason to trust him.

  “Look, I know you don't trust me. And fact is, it doesn't matter. Through greed alone, I'll be back for the cargo. I'll even let you hitch a ride with it. You have my word,” Saul said.

  “Whatever,” Aiden said, exhaustion starting to show in his eyes.

  “And, Aiden?” Saul said, “I want that cow.”

  With that, Aiden moved towards the crates, and Saul headed for the hall.

  …

  “You take me as a fool?” said Tidus Backen a little while later, The Diggory's second in command. “Captain– you give me no credit.”

  “I didn't think I could draw a shade on you, Tidus. If anything, I'd hoped you'd help me sell it to the crew.”

  Tidus leaned his head back on the doorframe.

  “It's Tidus now, is it? We must be in some serious boucha to drop formalities. Done something to piss off the dear Sovvos, I take it? Come to think of it, you are looking a pale sort. And don't worry, I've silenced the squawking comms from back in-system.”

  “Yes, Sovereignty will be on us soon. Sooner we can get the crew onboard, sooner we can get this show on,” Saul said. He pressed a few buttons on the wall screen over the med bay cubicle.

  Before them, in the small gurney, lay Lisa Hutteno.

  “So, let's get this crystal, just so I've got all my t’s crossed.”

  “Hit me,” Saul said, giving the man his full attention.

  “Starting in the cargo, you've brought on a new haul and seemingly a new contract to deliver a load of – diamonds, was it? – and with that cargo, we've taken on crew.”

  Tidus paused, leaning against the doorframe again.

  “Yes. Where was I? Ah yes… new crew. So you've brought back that dinosaur with the cargo, you know I've never liked him, and what was he going by now? Aiden? And then there's this one.” He pointed to Lisa. “This one's problematic.”

  “That's the truth. I understand this is hard, and bringing this one back only complicated it. But I had to make a choice.”

  “And a choice you made. A choice to turn us renegade.”

  “That's not what I meant,” Saul explained.

  “No, but it's the bleeding truth, ain't it? You've made a choice. You stole cargo, killed station operatives, kidnapped a fellow captain, cavorted with thugs…”

  “Tidus, don't you see? I was trying to set us free. No longer under the Sovvos yoke. We are free to make our way, earn our lives on our own.”

  “But did you stop to ask yourself while you were busy freedom-fighting in our name whether we even wanted you to?” Tidus said, his expression immovable.

  He paused. The two of them stared at each other before Tidus finally spoke again.

  “Hey, you want me to sell it.” He shrugged, a smile forming on his thick lips. “Seems to me your take can use a tighten.”

  “Seems so,” Saul said.

  “So here's how we do this. You're the captain, and I'm your second. What you say goes. The crew? Well, they needn't know the dirt under their boots. So long as they're fed and employed, then I don't imagine pirating’s that far out of the question.”

  “You think they'll buy it?”

  “Buy what?” said a voice from behind Tidus, his bulk blocking nearly the entire doorway.

  “Engineer Cardes,” Saul said, acknowledging the Chief of Engineering, Belcia Cardes.

  “Buy this man's tall tale,” Tidus said.

  “Oh yeah? Does it have anything to do with why I couldn't let my staff off at dock? Or that old man ordering around dockers in cargo?”

  “Could be.” Tidus shrugged. “Captain?”

  “Short story?” Saul said, “that old man is our new Chief of Supply, Francis Aiden, on loan from The Par Abadd.” He paused, looking at Tidus for approval.

  Tidus nodded, impressed.

  “–The cargo we have is mislabeled. Its value, being homeworld Pacific Clams, is so high that a misnomer was needed. We've a contract to deliver it to Veka.”

  “And her?” Belcia gestured to Lisa.

  “Medical transport. This woman's in a medically induced coma. Some sort of fatal illness. Seems The Sovereignty's hot on her; she’s headed to some rejuvenation retreat in Vasser space, all expenses paid.”

  “And the cow?” Belcia asked.

  “Cow, what cow?” Saul said, wavering for a moment.

  “The new Chief of Supply thawed her out. She’s just walking lonesome around the hold.”

  “Right.” He thought for a second. “Her name's Marge.”

  Tidus curled his lip in approval. Belcia seemed convinced, and the crew had their story.