Chapter 4 – Vacy Has a Bad Feeling


Vacy kept her eyes on the narrow dirt trail, dodging rocks and gnarled tree roots as she scrambled toward the hangar as fast as she could. Corso's final cry echoed through her mind each time her feet hit the ground. No... no... no... What had he seen? What had he been trying to say before the comm cut out?

Whatever it was, it couldn't have been good.

She vaulted over a low embankment and then up to the side entrance, catching her breath as she keyed in the identicode she'd been given by Viidu. Hopefully it wasn't matched only to the main door. But when she mashed her thumb against the final key in the sequence, there was a beep and a soft click. Vacy tried the handle, and to her relief, the door pulled open.

The sharp tang of blood and blaster gas was faint, but familiar enough that Vacy held the door carefully as it closed rather than letting it slam shut. Pallets of loaded cargo crates blocked her view, but she could hear cheering and raucous laughter somewhere up ahead. While it was possible that the sound came from Corso and Skavak laughing about the prank they'd pulled on her, she crept forward quietly and pulled out her blaster. Just in case.

But the trio clustered in the corner were wearing the same insignia as the half-dozen separatist corpses scattered across the main floor of the warehouse. Skavak and Corso were nowhere to be seen. Wonder if I could yell out that the Republic army's got 'em surrounded and they should put down their weapons and surrender. She chewed on her lower lip, thinking through the idea. The possibility of not having to dodge any more blaster fire was alluring. Then again, if they don't buy it, I've given away my position. And what's to keep them from coming right back inside? Wait – didn't that guy say something about sealin' the hangar door?

Keeping her blaster close, she edged between the crates and peeked out. Sure enough, the hangar door was still wide open, and there was a control panel beside it. If she could just get the separatists outside and get them to stay there for more than a few seconds...

"Attention separatists!" The high ceiling of the warehouse gave her voice an impressive echo. "This is Lieutenant Branth of the Republic Army. Place your weapons on the floor and exit the warehouse with your hands on top of your heads." She was gratified to see the group start, looking around in confusion. While she didn't know much about military ranks, she figured it'd be a low-ranking officer of some sort making the announcement. An admiral or general or the like would be too important for a mission like this.

One of the seps pushed at another. "Hey, wasn't they sposta be off fixin' that walker? Innat what y'said?" The voice was female, but it carried the same harsh tones Vacy had heard from all of them as they'd been joking and cheering earlier.

The second yanked back and grabbed his rifle. "Yeh, well if they got done early, guess we've got ourselves a few more maggots t'kill, neh? C'mon, boys, let's git 'em!" Flushed with his latest victory, he readied his weapon and headed for the door.

That wouldn't do at all. Vacy took another deep breath. "I repeat: place your weapons on the floor and exit the warehouse with your hands on top of your heads. We have accessed the building's security feed. Anyone who does not comply will be shot as an enemy combatant when our troops enter the building. You have ten seconds."

The third held back, clearly unsure. "Shit, they can see us? An' we ain't even got any idea how many of 'em they are?" He shook his head and put his rifle on the floor. "Hell with this. I ain't goin' up against a whole dam' army."

But as he passed the other two, there was a flash from the second separatist's rifle, and before he had crossed the threshold, his lifeless body dropped to the floor. The second separatist looked back at the first. "You wanna surrender too? Turn y'self over to them what's tryna take our world from us?"

She shook her head slowly, eyes narrowed as she regarded him with suspicion. "No. But I'm not keen on shootin' a friend in the back, neither."

The second separatist spat on the ground. "Y'can't shoot somebody in the back if they're fightin' beside you. And anyone who'd sell us out ain't a friend. You think them Republic troops are just gonna shake his hand and thank him for switchin' sides? No, they're gonna ask him all sorts of questions about who's leadin' our group an' how many people's involved an' what resources we got an' where we meet an' such. I wasn't about to let that happen."

With a sigh, the first separatist looked at the body of their partner. "I s'pose you're right. Well, then..." Her mouth stretched into a wild grin, and she readied her rifle. "I never figured on gettin' old an' ugly anyhow. Let's show them Pubs we mean business!"

Yelling at the top of their lungs, the pair charged through the door of the warehouse and down the path. Vacy dashed over to the control panel and smacked the open/close command. She held her breath for a moment, but with a noisy grinding of gears, the door slid downward. There was an abrupt shout from outside as the separatists realized they'd been tricked and ran back toward the warehouse. But the door was solid, and no amount of fist-pounding or blaster fire seemed to bother it.

She let out a sigh of relief and holstered her pistol as she ran over to the corner where she'd seen them clustered. One of her contacts lay crumpled on the floor there. She dropped to one knee beside him, wondering if it was already too late, but he groaned and shifted a bit.

Lifting his head, he glanced around. "Ugh. Feels like a gundark used my skull as a drum." But when he looked up at her, his expression softened. "Thanks for savin' my hide, Captain."

Hoping her blush wasn't too obvious, Vacy stood and offered him a hand. "Don't mention it, Riggs. You'd've done the same for me, I'm sure."

The gentle way he smiled made his eyes crinkle at the corners. "Well, actually, I hope –"

But whatever he was about to say was cut off by the roar of a very-familiar engine. With a gasp, Vacy whirled and rushed to the hangar bay. No, no, no... The Wonder was already mid-takeoff, repulsors lifting it away from the ground, the landing struts tucking neatly into their hatches. She could do nothing but watch helplessly, her hands clenched into fists, as it soared further into the sky and flew away to the west.

Vacy closed her eyes. This can't be happening. But when she opened them again, the ship was still gone. Her knees buckled, and if it wasn't for her stubborn pride, she would have dropped to the floor and started crying.

But she wasn't about to do that in front of anyone, let alone a client, so she turned again and trudged back into the warehouse. Corso was patching himself up, fuming. "Skavak's the one who let those separatists in here," he said as she walked up. "He stabbed us in the back!"

Don't let it show. You're still in control of the situation. This isn't a big deal. You can handle it. Vacy folded her arms. "Wait. Skavak's a separatist? I thought he was an offworlder, not a local. He some kind of wandering crusader or something?"

Corso shook his head, then winced, lifting a hand to his temple. "Nawh – the only thing he cares about is himself. Figure he's in it for the money. Prob'ly gonna sell those weapons to the seps, then... hey... hang on..." Corso backed up, looking around on the floor, his eyes wide. "That bastard! He took Torchy!"

Vacy thought back, but she couldn't recall anyone by that name; then again, Viidu hadn't exactly sent her a list of all his employees. Still, there hadn't been anyone but Corso and Skavak at the warehouse earlier. She looked at Corso curiously. "Who's Torchy?"

"Torchy's a genuine BlasTech Alt-25 with magnetic adhesion grip and side-mounted rangefinder." The speed with which he rattled off the blaster's specs was impressive – probably driven by his obvious anger. "She's too good for Skavak. An' it ain't like he appreciates her – he just took her outta spite, cuz he knows she's important to me. Rat bastard!"

That was a bit unexpected. It took a few moments for Vacy to piece everything together... "Torchy's a gun?"

Eyes snapping with fury, Corso paced back and forth. "Useta brag about what a great thief he was. 'Be glad you don't have anything I want, kid,' he'd say. 'Cause there's nothing you have that I can't steal.' Filthy, lying, smiling..." He looked at Vacy and let out a sigh, deflating. "I guess it seems kinda silly to you. Ain't anywhere near as bad as losin' a whole starship."

Losing a whole starship. Vacy felt her eyes begin to burn, and blinked quickly. If a job went badly, Bryson had always been there to pull her close and tell her everything was going to be all right. But this time he wasn't, and she wasn't about to go sniveling to a complete stranger – even a good-looking one. So instead, she nodded firmly and clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. We're not going to let him get away with this. I promise."

He stood there a moment, gazing at her, and then cleared his throat and nodded back, just as businesslike. "Thanks, Captain. I appreciate it."

She was now unsettled for a completely different reason than before.


Author's Note: Okay, so one thing I've been working on is the dialogue. Those of you who are familiar with the game - does this still feel comfortable and consistent? or am I taking it too far? Those of you who AREN'T familiar with the game - how does the dialogue in this chapter compare with chapters 1 and 2, where I tried to stick to the original text? Does it feel more natural?

Oh! And also, I snuck a wee bit of setup in. I don't know if it qualifies as foreshadowing, because it's really subtle, but if you're familiar with the end of Act 1, you might be able to spot it...

This chapter took a bit longer to write. I think that's because I got caught up with work - it's the end of the grading period, and so that means making sure everything gets graded, of course, and that everything in the computer is scored correctly and nothing's been left out or placed in the wrong column. I got stuck for a little bit trying to figure out just how the combat was going to go, but once I sorted that out, it moved a lot faster!

I find I can hit my stride best in the morning, before school. If I try to write after school, I'm tired and frustrated and cranky and I just sit there staring at the screen, getting MORE frustrated and cranky!

Readers, what about you? What writing habits work best? What have you tried and found completely unhelpful?