Ion Trail 11: New Faces

Everything seemed to freeze for a moment. We’d faced significant threats to our lives in the last week, but they’d largely lacked immediacy; even the missile that we’d narrowly avoided had just been blip on the radar display. This was a man with a very large gun that was aimed right at me and the dozen people clustered behind me. Who was this man? Was he someone from the black ship, left here to ambush us? The questions acted as a catalyst, unfreezing my mind and allowing me to notice details that had seemed unimportant the moment I’d seen the gun.

The man was wearing a standard shipsuit, rather than any sort of military uniform; it even had a small corporate logo on the breast. He was unshaven, the sort of thing you’d expect on a man left on his own for weeks at a time. More, I noticed that the hands gripping the gun, strong and calloused though they were, were shaking. This actually made him more dangerous rather than less, but it also meant that it might be possible to defuse the situation without anyone getting hurt.

“Hey,” I said, raising my hands and taking a single, deliberate step forward. “Hey, we don’t want any trouble, okay?”

“Stay back,” he said, gripping the gun more forcefully, and raising it to point at my head. I could see straight down the barrel, which was awesome. “Just stay right there.”

“Gotcha,” I replied, keeping my tone level. “I’m not going anywhere without your permission. Your station, your rules. This is your station, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s my station. Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“We’re…” I glanced back at the crowd of people behind me, and then looked back at him. “We’re refugees. We’re hungry, and we’ve got injured and we had hoped to trade for supplies.”

“Refugees from where?” he demanded. “You didn’t come from Proxima Tau Station, or Friese. I tracked you as soon as you came around PT-5.”

“We’re from Kestrel Station,” I answered, still talking in even, measured tones. “It was attacked, and we have reason to believe that Proxima Tau Station may be attacked by the same ship. We hoped we could resupply and leave without anyone knowing we were here.”

“You think-“ he cut off, swallowing hard. “You think that Proxima Tau Station has been attacked?” the gun wavered and the barrel dropped a bit as his focus drifted. Even distracted he was still dangerous, so I didn’t move. I spared a glance for Clinton, also standing perfectly still, and smiled at him in what I hoped was a reassuring fashion.

“I don’t know for sure,” I said after a moment’s consideration. “I know that there are no detectable communications coming from the station and that something similar happened to Kestrel before it was attacked. I also believe the ship that attacked us came here too, faster than we did.”

“I knew something was wrong,” he muttered. I’m not sure he was even talking to me anymore. “I knew something was wrong when the shipping drone didn’t come back, and no one answered my messages on the datasphere.”

“Is that why you didn’t try to hail us when we came in?” I asked.

“I didn’t know what was going on, or if I could trust you.” He jerked the gun back up, just realizing he’d let it drop and glared at me as if it was my fault. “I still don’t know that I can trust you.”

“Hey,” said a voice that I recognized as Diaz from behind me. “Did you know Mario Diaz?” I turned my head and saw that he’d pushed through the crowd to stand a pace behind me. “He worked a year contract out here a couple years ago. He’s my cousin.”

“Mario?” he paused, thinking. “Mario, yeah, I think so. Kinda stout?”

“Yeah, green eyes, talks too much,” Diaz replied with a grin.

“Yeah, okay, I remember him. He’s your cousin?”

“Yeah, though I haven’t talked to him for a year. He did tell me how much he hated it here, though. Said the whole station creaks, makes you feel like there’s someone walking the halls.”

“Fuck yeah, it does. Creeps me out.” The gun dropped lower, and I decided it was worth taking a chance.

“Can we come out now?” I took another measured step down the ramp, still keeping my hands plainly visible. “We have no weapons, and we’ve been packed in on this ship for over a week.” The barrel raised a bit, but didn’t aim directly at anyone this time and he looked like he was studying us. I smiled at him, trying to look as friendly and non-threatening as possible. He finally nodded, making a decision.

“Fine, but you stay down there, for now. No one comes up on the pier without my say so.” He gestured with the gun to emphasize his words. “Except you. You come up here, and bring Mario’s cousin.” At his words everyone behind me started to shift around and tentatively began to descend the ramp to the floor of the berth. It wasn’t much better than being aboard ship, but it seemed a welcome change nonetheless. I turned, seeing June nearby and quickly whispered some instructions to keep everyone together before catching Diaz’ eye and turning back toward the stairs. Clinton had just finished coming down to the berth, rubbing his shoulders through the suit.

“Good job, Captain,” he said as we passed. “I was pretty sure he was going to shoot me when I first saw him.” I nodded, then mounted the stairs, coming face to face with the man with the gun as I reached the top. I took a moment to study the man as Diaz joined me. He was maybe a couple of years older than me, a bit thick around the middle but well-muscled, especially in the arms and shoulders. He had wild, curly black hair and a beard that hadn’t seen a razor in at least a month, and swarthy skin, possibly of Middle Eastern descent.

“I’m Susan Rickard,” I said in greeting. “Can I ask your name?”

“Omar,” he said, shortly. “I need you to tell me what’s going on.” He was trying to sound tough and confident, but as someone who’d been wearing that same mask for the last week, I knew exactly what he was doing; he was scared, right on the edge of panic. It made me feel a lot better about the situation.

“Beyond what I’ve already said, there’s not much more to tell,” I replied. “We fled Kestrel Station when it was attacked. I believe they were able to track us, but we had to risk coming anyway. My ship wasn’t prepared to feed and house fifteen people, nor deal with injuries.”

“Who attacked? There are no declared wars in this part of the galaxy.”

“I don’t know. It was a black ship, unlike anything I’ve ever seen, with enough firepower to take apart a whole space station by itself.”

“And you think it came here?” He swallowed nervously. “Why?”

“Because it tracked us,” I told him, then quickly added, “We discovered the tracker before arriving, and disabled it.” I gestured vaguely outward, in the direction I imagined Proxima Tau Station to be. “Combine that with the lack of comms from the main station, exactly like they did to Kestrel, and I think it’s very likely.” He nodded as I finished, then nodded again as if unsure what to say or do. His eyes were unfocused, likely imagining all sorts of horrors.

“Listen, all we need is some food, and any medical supplies you can spare, and we’ll get out of your way. It’s my hope that if the black ship never knows we arrived here, they might leave Proxima Tau alone.” I didn’t really believe that, not if they’d killed the station’s communications, but it was a possibility, and one I sincerely hoped was true.

“No,” he said, lifting his eyes to meet mine. “No.”

“No?” I replied, shook by the flat negation. “We have things to trade, valuable goods that I was transporting. I’m not asking you for charity.”

“No,” he said again, shaking his head. “I don’t need trade goods. What I need is to get the hell out of here.” I blinked. I didn’t expect this though I probably should have. I exchanged a glance with Diaz, who had been silent so far, despite the fact that the man had specifically requested his presence. He lifted a shoulder slightly, but looked at me directly as if to suggest that I already knew his mind.

“You want to, what? Leave with us?” I asked, turning back to Omar.

“Yes,” he said with a firm nod. “If what you’re saying is true, and I have no reason to believe it’s not, it’s not safe here. It’s only a matter of time before they come looking for me.”

“Uh, I’m not configured for passengers,” I said hesitantly. “Everyone’s been hanging out in the cargo bay.”

“Still better than staying here alone to take my chances,” he replied with a shrug. “But I think I can help with that part, anyway.” He gestured back toward the rest of the station, using the gun he almost seemed to have forgotten he was holding. “We’re mostly a one-man operation out here but sometimes we get survey teams and corporate inspections, so we’ve got a lot of modular walls and furnishings that we use to accommodate them. If you’ll take me with you, you can take whatever you want from the station.” Omar chuckled bitterly. “It’ll probably mean my ass if corporate finds out, but I’d rather that than die.”

I knew exactly how he felt. Offering to trade from our cargo was tantamount to theft, but it was the only bargaining chip we had and I had mouths to feed. Grey Dwarf might forgive me under the circumstances, but they might also fire me and hold me liable for my debts. It was a gamble and a price I’d likely have to pay later, if we lived that long.

“You’ve got a deal,” I said, extending my hand to him. “Welcome aboard.”

Priority one, of course, was getting some sort of food into people’s bellies. Our food had run all the way down to condiments about a day before we’d dropped into Proxima Tau. I didn’t want to cause a food riot, so once I’d cleared it with Omar I put June and Sister Estrada to the task of organizing a meal, as well as inventorying Omar’s food supply. They drafted Alan and Craig to help with the food, so I grabbed Clinton and Kyle plus most of the others to go look at the furnishings that Omar had mentioned. I figured that by the time we were done looking that over and deciding what we could use, they’d have the food ready.

The modular walls would take some work to install in the ship, but with the tools aboard the station it would be possible to accomplish quite a bit of reconfiguration inside the ship, enough to get some level of privacy and comfort for most of the passengers. At Harper’s request we also took a look at his medical supply, which wasn’t impressive but was considerably better than what we had aboard the ship. After that was all done, the meal was ready, so we sat down to a communal meal, and took some time to get to know our new companion better.

Omar Laghari was on the second year of his contract here, doing month-long rotations with two other contractors from Proxima Tau Station. Overall he enjoyed his work, though he admitted that it did get lonely at times. The time spent here at the mining station, combined with lodging and food being covered by the company, meant he typically had a good amount of money to play with whenever he was back to the main station, which suited him just fine. This situation, with Proxima Tau Station gone silent and learning of a possible attack, did not suit him at all; once he’d dropped the tough act he seemed eager to have someone else making the decisions.

“Omar,” Sister Estrada placed a hand on his shoulder, interrupting our conversation. “I wanted to say that you have a wonderfully stocked kitchen. I never expected this much to work with on a mining station.”

“Oh that,” Omar laughed. “You’d have to thank Hans for that. He’s a foodie and spends most of his time out here cooking and experimenting with new recipes. I know just enough not to burn water.”

“Well, whoever is to thank, we appreciate it,” she said.

“How’s food stocks?” I asked. I hadn’t had the chance to check with her and June yet, but now seemed as good a time as any.

“They’re good, actually,” she replied. “They won’t last forever with sixteen mouths to feed, but we should be comfortable at least as far as Bekter’s Rim.” Then she smiled a conspiratorial smile. “There’s coffee, too. Lots of coffee.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” I exclaimed. We’d run out just after the pit stop, and I’d missed it. “See that the Captain has a private reserve,” I added in a lofty tone of voice. She laughingly agreed before she moved on to another group of people sitting nearby I watched her for a few seconds, touching shoulders and smiling that warm smile she had. She did that a lot on the ship and it was definitely a part of why this disparate group of people had managed to keep their sanity under such difficult circumstances. She was more valuable than I’d ever have expected, even though I didn’t share her faith. I shook my head with a bemused smile before turning back to Omar and Diaz.

“After the meal, I’d like to start moving stuff down to the star dock at least,” I told them. “We’ll need to shift stuff around in the cargo hold if we’re going to convert part of it to better living quarters.”

“Sounds good, Captain,” Diaz agreed. “I think we should be able to get at least half a dozen small sleeping spaces while still maintaining a decent amount of space for cargo. People will have to share rooms though.” He and Omar had been talking and scratching out rough plans on a sheet of plas during the meal.

“If possible, I’d also like to bring some of the mining equipment on-board,” Omar added. “A couple of the drones as well as the control console. They’re some of the more valuable equipment on the station, and they might come in handy before we’re through.”

“I think we can manage that,” I said.

=+=

Our little bit of leisure time, though appreciated, was brief. After the meal everything that we’d deemed useful was brought down to the star dock. We were able to use the loaders for some things, but a lot of it boiled down to simple manual labor. Most of the passengers aboard were accustomed to that and those that weren’t didn’t complain too much; Only Shanna was exempt due to her injuries and she complained so much about feeling useless that I put her in charge of inventorying everything as it was brought down to the dock. By the time we called it quits, the berth was full enough of crates, boxes, furniture and plasteel panels that it resembled a can colony flea market. I told everyone to get some rest and we’d load it all up in the morning. The beds were quickly assembled and aside from those who already had rooms elsewhere, everyone slept right there in the star dock that night.

The next morning I got everyone back to work immediately, except for June and Sister Estrada who had moved cooking operations back aboard the ship. Our first order of business was building the sleeping areas, under Diaz and Omar’s direction. It was quick work, as the plasteel panels were designed to fasten together easily and firmly and while they didn’t quite reach the higher ceiling of the cargo bay, everyone was much happier with their accommodations than they had been previously. After that, all of the original cargo, tools and the mining equipment that Omar wanted were loaded up, leaving a narrow pathway from the cargo ramp to the new passenger quarters.

Then it was time to go. I had one more thing to do before we could load everyone up, and I wasn’t really looking forward to it. I had Diaz and Omar accompany me on a quick walk through of the station’s gutted living areas.

“So, Omar,” I began. “There’s just one more thing I need before we can leave.”

“What’s that, Captain?” He’d quickly picked up on everyone else’s habit of referring to me as ‘Captain’ which I figured was for the best. It lent me that additional bit of authority I needed just now.

“I’m going to need your weapon.” Diaz said nothing, but quietly stood ready in case Omar was less than agreeable. Omar paused and touched the strap across his chest, where he wore the gun slung across his back, as he’d done since we’d showed up.

“Uh, I’d prefer to hang on to it, if it’s all the same to you,” he said, falsely nonchalant.

“It’s really not,” I said, squaring my shoulders and looking at him directly. “It needs to be locked up when we’re aboard ship, unless I decide that we need it. I like you Omar and you seem like a good person, but this isn’t a negotiation.” He looked at me, then glanced back at Diaz. He thought about it for a minute, and I let him do so; better to let him think it through than precipitate anything unnecessary.

“How do I know you won’t just leave me here once I give it to you?” he didn’t reach for the gun, but his body language shifted, ready for a fight. I sighed.

“Read the fucking room, Omar,” I said slowly, forcing myself to remain calm. “I can take it from you if I have to, but I’d rather not. Think about the rest of my passengers. You’ve spoken to several of them and you know what we’ve been through. If I were the sort who would leave you here, would any of them be on my ship? Just hand it over so we can all get the hell out of here.” He hesitated for another long moment until I was sure that he was going to try to fight me for it, then the tension in his shoulders disappeared with a slump.

“Alright, Captain,” he said, and pulled the strap over his head, holding it out in one hand for Diaz to take. As Diaz took the gun, Omar looked at me directly and said, “My life is in your hands.” I couldn’t help it; I laughed, a sharp, harsh laugh.

“Of course it is,” I said dryly. “What’s one more?”