Warhawk's Amnesty - Ch. 10 - Discovered - Final (Patreon)

Seb awoke to muffled shouting behind his door.

“Seb, are you awake?” Nalla asked.

“No, I’m still sleeping,” Seb said, draping his arm over his eyes.

“You need to get up and eat something. It’s been almost forty-eight hours.”

“What?”

“I’m coming in there.”

“Okay.”

The door creaked open, chased by a sharp gasp. Seb leaned up on his elbows to see Nalla turned around with her hand cupped over her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She looked over at him, but quickly turned back to the door. “Would you mind covering yourself?”

Seb looked down at his body and realized his soldier was standing at full attention. He quickly grabbed the sheet and covered his lower half. “Oh . . . sorry about that,” he chuckled. “It happens.”

“I know that . . .” Nalla said, turning around. “I am a doctor.”

“Shouldn’t you be used to that, then?”

“Yes . . . but . . . this is different.”

“How so?”

“Can we talk about something else?” Nalla asked, her face shining like a ruby. “Like how I brought you food?” She set a metal tray in front of Seb. It looked to have freeze-dried fruit, some kind of mush, eggs, a bread roll, and a plastic cup filled with a red liquid. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I just grabbed a few different things. Oh, I also got your clothes cleaned. I folded them near your feet.”

“It smells and looks wonderful. Thank you so much for . . . everything.”

“You’re welcome,” she said with a wide smile.

Seb didn’t want another second before digging into the meal. As he scooped his roll into the mush, Nalla sat in front of him. He paused and swallowed his food before speaking.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I ate a while ago.”

“Did you say that I slept for forty-eight hours?”

“Yeah, just about. I told you those stims you were taking had side effects. Your body needs rest. When you push beyond that and you don’t keep feeding yourself the stims, it will crash hard. I am guessing that’s what happened.”

“I’ve definitely been pushing it pretty hard. I just want to live my life, you know?”

“Trust me . . . I understand.”

He nearly choked on a piece of fruit when he realized what he had just said. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

“Don’t be,” Nalla said, waving her hand. “It was my choice. It’s just that same hope that keeps me going, you know?”

“I know exactly what you mean. I had a list of things that I wanted to do when I got . . . I mean when I would take my next leave.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

Seb lifted his tray. “Like eat a meal that wasn’t the same thing I had eaten a thousand times. Buy my own ship and travel the galaxy.” He paused and looked Nalla in the eyes. “Maybe even meet a beautiful woman and have her join me.”

Nalla pulled her hands into her chest and giggled. “So, you don’t want to work for WCC anymore?”

“Never. I thought after I graduated I wanted to work for a corporation, get paid well, and live a life of luxury. But now . . . I just want my own freedom.”

“What would you do for money then?”

“I haven’t really thought about it much. Maybe something like what you all are doing and going freelance?”

Nalla’s lips twisted, and she leaned back on her hands. “It’s not all glamorous. This is the first paying job we’ve had in months. Until you came along, I honestly thought we’d be living here.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I came along when I did.”

“I guess it is.” The two shared a smile while Seb ate the remains of his breakfast. Once he finished, he set the tray next to him and chugged the sweet and sour juice that Nalla brought. When he opened his eyes, he caught Nalla staring down below his waist. She glanced up, seeing she had been caught, before laughing and looking away. It was cute.

When she looked back at him, her brows pinched together as she noticed his side. “I just realized how many scars you have,” Nalla said, pointing to the one along his ribs.

“Yeah, a vocational habit.”

“From the prisoners? I thought you said you were an engineer.”

“Yeah . . . I mean . . . I am. Sometimes you just have to go through the common areas, and you look at one guy the wrong way and you get a shank in the ribs.”

“Uh huh, but didn’t they have medical facilities on site? The healing tank, biofoam, or second skin would have taken care of that.”

“I don’t know. I just woke up, and this is what I got,” Seb said, letting out a nervous laugh. “What about you, Nalla? What would you do when your contract is over?”

Nalla stretched her arms behind her head and folded her long tail, allowing her to lean back as if she were sitting in a chair. “Hm . . . I’ve thought about that a lot. Part of me wants to go back into sepix territory, open up a low-cost clinic and help others. But at the same time, I never want to go back. I’m worried putting myself back into that situation would break me.”

“Too many terrible memories?”

“Yeah. I also like what I am doing now, being part of a crew, using my skills to help the team. I do enjoy this. Having the freedom to build my own medical room on a ship, filling it with all sorts of concoctions, and seeing more of the galaxy would be fun.”

“Then let’s do it,” Seb said, reaching out and grabbing Nalla’s hand.

“What?”

“Let’s go, you and me.”

“Oh you, you’re telling a joke.”

“I’m not joking, Nalla. I can build us a ship we want.”

“This isn’t funny, Seb.”

“I’m not trying to be funny. I’ll talk with Captain Francisca. We can put our own crew—”

“Stop it!” Nalla shouted, yanking her hand away. “Just stop talking. I don’t even know you and you’re talking about whisking me away like some damsel in distress? I MADE this choice, Seb. I can stand living with the consequences. But what I can’t stand is being lied to.” Nalla used her tail to spring to her feet.

“Wait! I—”

“Do you think I am that stupid, Seb, that I can’t tell a bandaged wound versus something with proper medical care? It wasn’t that hard to figure out. You talk the same way I do, being locked in a cage. I told you about Kayda for gods’ sake, and you don’t even have the decency to do the same for me. Yet you’re going to somehow take me away from here? You know how much my contract is worth, and if I am right, I bet everything you own is right here in this room.”

Seb couldn’t look up at her. He knew she was right. His let his ambitions get ahead of him, and in doing so, he did the one thing he was trying not to do, which was allow himself to get found out. He didn’t know how to respond. His gut was telling him to lean into the lie, to yell at her for making such bold assumptions. But his heart was telling him to come clean.

“I can’t believe I was starting to like you,” Nalla said before turning and walking to the door.

“Wait!” Seb shouted. He grabbed his pants, hopping on one foot as he slid them on. “You’re right, and I’m sorry.”

“About what?” she said, turning around and crossing her arms.

“About everything. I did lie. I don’t work for WCC.”

“Yeah, I pieced that together. You’re not an engineer, you’re a prisoner, aren’t you?”

“Yes and no.”

Nalla scoffed and turned away, triggering Seb's frantic explanation.

"It's complicated. I have do have a degree in engineering. I was working on my masters when I got arrested for corporate espionage, which they coerced me into because I had so much debt. I served ten years and only have a few more days left on my sentence.”

Nalla turned around with a cocked eyebrow. “That’s why Dover trusted you?”

“Not initially. I hijacked his escape pod and landed us safe enough. When it crashed, I pulled him from the wreckage, and he agreed to lower my sentence.”

“I thought you just said you had ten days left?”

“I did! But that was before I got into a fight with some guards, and they tacked on a bunch of years.”

“You’re lying to me.”

“I swear to you I’m not lying, Nalla. The last thing I want to do is lie to you, but my sentence isn’t over. I just need to keep my head down. I won’t go back to prison. I know I don’t deserve it, but I am asking you for your discretion on this.”

“Why?”

“There’s still an open bounty on any prisoners that survived the crash. If Francisca or Toros find out about me, they’re likely to turn me in for the reward.”

“I don’t think they would do that.”

“Nalla, you know they would.”

Nalla paused and bit on her nail. “You’re probably right. But you’re going to have a much bigger problem than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“While you’ve been out, Toros and the captain have been busy visiting the rest of the emergency signals. There’re about twenty survivors down in the cargo hold.”

“WHAT!”

“You’ll probably want to keep your head down.”

“Fuck me . . .”

As Seb paced back and forth thinking of what to do, the captain’s voice echoed over the intercom. “Seb, you awake yet?”

“Yeah, sure am.”

“Get dressed and get your ass up on the bridge. I need to talk with you.”

“All right, I’ll be right there.”

Nalla opened the door, but before she could leave, Seb reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Hey, can I count on you?” he asked. Seb’s heart pounded as he waited for her answer. It felt like forever. Eventually, she looked him in the eye and nodded. He watched her continue down the hallway before entering her medical room.

Seb shut his door and leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. This is not how I imagined this going. Twenty survivors? How the hell am I going to get through this? Maybe it’s not that big of a deal. The ship was enormous. It’s not like every guard is going to know every prisoner. I just need to figure out a way to hide my face.

Seb looked around his room as he slipped on his skinsleeve. When he secured it around his wrists and neck, he moved to the rest of his clothes. Once he finished, he rummaged through Dover’s bag and pulled out the survival knife. He cut into the blankets that Nalla had brought him and wrapped the strands around his head. This will have to do.

Seb walked to the bridge, where Captain Francisca was relaxing in the pilot’s chair, taking a sip of whiskey out of one of her glasses. When she looked up at him, she spit out her drink and started coughing. Seb patted her on the back until she regained control of her breathing.

“What the hell are you wearing around your head?” she asked.

“I think there might be something wrong with the skinsleeve after the black box fiasco,” Seb said. “I think the shield around my head is wavering. I noticed when I was running outside, I could feel a temperature difference between my face and body.”

“Is it good enough for you to go outside?”

“Should be.”

“Good, because we’ve got one more pick up. Have a seat.”

Seb sat in the co-pilot’s chair and pulled up the map of Inoi 3. Captain Francisca had been busy. There were no more emergency signals that hadn’t been acknowledged except for one. They were now in the southern hemisphere of the planet, and only a few minutes till they reached the last beacon.

“Nalla told me you already rescued twenty or so people?”

“Oh yeah, and at twenty thousand a head, we’re going to have one hell of a payday.”

“Damn, that will be nice.”

“You’re telling me. New clothes, new shoes, new ship. Momma’s going shopping.” The two shared a laugh as the navigation alerted them that they should begin their descent. Francisca took them below the cloud line, and the ship immediately hit turbulence. “Everyone hold on, I’m taking us down,” the captain said over the intercom.

Seb switched their views to thermal as they fell into the storm. The scans revealed the length of the lifepod skirted along the ground until it came to a stop. The rear of the pod was angled forty-five degrees upward, with the nose stuck into the ground. Seb initiated the scan of the craft while Captain Francisca hovered the ship above.

“I’m not getting any thermal readings on it,” Seb said.

“That’s how we found a few of them already,” Francisca said, putting her foot on the dash. “Let’s double-check for any survivors. If no one is alive, grab the survival bags. We’ll need the blankets, food, and water. Maker knows we don’t have enough supplies for all of them.”

“No problem.”

Captain Francisca landed the ship and leaned back in her chair. Seb stood and walked down the hallway. His mind raced with what he would do if he were outed. He wondered if it would get messy but decided it wasn’t worth dying for. He would just limit his exposure to them.

He scanned the cargo room as he descended the stairs. The rescued personnel were all huddled around a portable heater, covered in space blankets. Many of them stood with warm drinks in their hands, and no one was speaking louder than a whisper. Nalla stood at the bottom of the stairs with her medical bag hanging from her shoulder, speaking with Toros as the two waited for Seb’s arrival. When the two heard him descend the stairs, they turned to face him. Both of Toros’s right arms were bandaged and tied across his chest.

“How are you feeling, Toros?” Seb asked.

“How the fuck do you think? It hurts like hell.”

“Looks like it. So, should we get this show on the road?”

The three walked to the ramp, and Toros grabbed the control box. Nalla shouted at the survivors in the room to prepare them for the wind, and they all responded by huddling close around the heater. Seb turned on his skinsleeve and checked his wrist for power. He still had more than half a day’s left. Toros pressed the button, and the rear ramp lowered, thrusting the cold weather back into the ship.

“Let us know over the comm once you’re ready to be let back in,” Toros shouted.

“And let me know if there are any survivors,” Nalla added.

“There were no thermal readings, but I’ll let you know,” Seb said.

Before Toros completely lowered the ramp, Seb jumped out of the back of the ship and jogged around to the front. It wasn’t until he reached the back of the lifepod that he realized he didn’t have any equipment on him. His multi-tool was gone, and he had no way of cutting into the back. Not to be deterred, Seb moved to the front of the pod, but he pulled his weapon and froze once he saw the front window.

Dog-sized holes were burrowed into the ship. Blood stained the entire inside. Torn pieces of fabric and stripped seatbelts were the only things that remained of the former passengers. Whatever had made its way in consumed everything. That’s enough outside for me today.

“Toros, open the door. I’m coming back in!” Seb shouted as he rushed back to the ship.

“What’s wrong?” Captain Francisca asked.

“Everyone’s dead. Pretty sure they were torn apart by those things back at the Redeemer.”

“What about the supplies?”

“Fuck the supplies. I don’t have a way inside.”

“Fine . . . we may have to ration until we get to Pyrus Station. Meet me up on the bridge when you get back.”

Toros had the door open by the time Seb came back. As he marched toward the stairs, several of the survivors cut him off.

“What happened? Was anyone alive?” one of them asked.

Seb hesitated when he recognized the voice. He looked at the man’s jacket, and it read The same name of the officer that guarded the showers on the last day of the prison ship. Seb lowered the pitch of his voice as he spoke. “No survivors. Now, if you’d please—”

“Well, who was it, though? We need to notify the next of kin.”

“There was nothing there to identify them. It was a bloodbath.” As soon as Seb spoke the words, the group went silent and settled back into their despair. They huddled with each other around the warmth of the heat lamp. Seb turned off his suit and sprinted back up the stairs. His shoulder slid into the wall as the ship ascended for takeoff. When he sat in the co-pilot’s chair, Seb unwrapped the cloth around his face and threw it on the floor.

“That bad, huh?” Captain Francisca asked.

“Huh?”

“The way you’re staring into the window. Looks like you’ve seen some shit you’d rather forget.”

“Let’s just get the fuck out of here,” Seb said, side-eyeing the captain.

“Couldn’t agree more.”

“Are we still going to Pyrus Station?”

“Yup, just a few more days until we’re swimming in credits.”

Captain Francisca hit the throttle and ascended them into the atmosphere. Seb entered the coordinates for Pyrus Station and let the navigation computer chart their path. Since they weren’t flying along any known starlane, the calculation would take some time. While they waited for the calculation to finish, Francisca handed Seb a glass and poured him a drink.

“Salud,” she said, and the two touched glasses before downing the contents. While the captain poured them another glass, six alerts popped up on their screen, causing Francisca to drop their glasses. “Fuck, looks like we’ve got company.”

“I’m seeing six ships. Five frigates and one unknown-class cruiser. No ID’s or anything.”

“Fucking pirates.”

“We’re getting hailed. Do you want me to open it?”

Captain Francisca frantically tapped her foot as she twisted in her chair. “Go ahead.”

The hologram of a scaled man popped up on the screen. He had a long mouth, green eyes, and moss-colored scales. Francisca cursed, seemingly in recognition of the man.

“Francisca, is that you?”

“Hello, Blue-tongue. It’s been a while.”

The man let out a hearty laugh and slapped his chair. “I thought I recognized those beautiful, brown eyes. How are you doing?”

“Not too great, BT. We’ve been stuck on this rock for way too long. I’m just trying to get the hell out of here.”

“Is that so? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about what happened to one of my stores down there, would you? Someone went in there, guns blazing, killed my crew, and broke out my cargo.”

“I don’t know anything about that. We’re here on a corporate contract.”

“Oh really? So, if I ask to see your cargo, I’m not going to find any of my property?”

Captain Francisca slammed her fist on the button to cut the feed and accelerated the ship at full speed, pushing the two into the back of their chairs.

“What are you doing?” Seb asked. “We don’t have any of their cargo.”

“I know that, but it doesn’t matter. We’ve got half-a-million worth of live cargo downstairs. Once Captain Blue-tongue finds out about the job, he’s just going to board us and take it for himself. I’m not about to let that happen.”

“We’re getting hailed again.”

“Just ignore it.”

A red, flashing signal buzzed across their interface. “They’re locking on to us.”

“I know! Are the FTL calculations done?”

“Yeah, they are now. Hit it!”

The captain hit the button for the FTL jump, and the entire ship rocked forward. The control panel’s lights flickered momentarily until they remained solid. Seb pulled up to the ship’s engine interface and started reading through the alerts.

“What just happened?” Captain Francisca asked.

“The core jettisoned. Toros fucked us.”

“Toros, get your ass up here ASAP!” Francisca shouted over the intercom. “I need you on the guns. Everyone else, hold on!” When she let go of the comm button, she pointed her finger over her shoulder. “Get your ass back in the engine room and start swapping those cores. There’s got to be one of those that are stable enough to get us to Pyrus.”

“Or unstable enough to blow us to pieces.”

“Don’t sass me, just get back there and do it!”

Seb unbuckled himself from the chair and jogged down the hallway. Toros wore a giant smile as the two men passed each other in the hallway. A rumble rang through the ship, familiar to Seb as gunfire once he reached the engine room. The core was already sitting out of the FTL drive, and Seb swapped it with one of the other dozen in the box. He pressed it into the drive, slammed it down, and reset the system.

“All right, Francisca, give it another shot.”

A pressurized whine preceded the rod being launched out of the FTL drive like a javelin, narrowly pinning Seb to the wall. He didn’t have time to insert another one as the ship jerked and swayed, sweeping Seb off of his feet. When he hit the ground, he gripped on to the metal floor and crawled his way to the nearby chair that was mounted to the wall.

When his hand touched it, he felt himself floating through the air. He wasn’t sure what he hit. All he felt was pain radiate through the back of his head, and his vision went black.