C8 Radio (Patreon)
Content
This Executioner's Gambit scene took a lot longer than expected. Not sure what was up with that. Hopefully it sounds right and isn't clunky.
–––
Tori and Druka sat in the central market, feeling slap-happy after successfully negotiating with the commissioner. Druka grinned with relief. “We might be okay after all,” he said quietly.
She squeezed his paw. “You’ve saved us.”
“Well, let’s not get too comfortable,” said her mate. “I’ll celebrate when we’re back home.”
“Yeah? How?”
Druka cocked his head. “What do you mean, ‘How?’”
“What will you do to celebrate?”
“Oh!” He thought for a moment. “We could take some of the bribe money and go to a really expensive restaurant. I’ve always been curious what those are really like.”
“Ooh, nice. I’m gonna drink a whole bottle of wine.”
“Tori!” he laughed.
“What? I’m so sick of being on painkillers,” she said. “I miss hanging out with friends and having a drink.”
“Yeah, I miss our friends.”
“I miss my family. I miss my niece.”
The two sat in silence, Tori squeezing her mate’s paw while they imagined what the future could bring. An evil grin crossed her ruined ears. “When I get a new body…” she whispered in a sing-song voice. Then, she stuck her lips up inside his ear, whispering, “I’m gonna wear your tool down to a nub. I’m gonna leave you walking funny.”
Druka’s ears sprung up, and the insides turned bright red. He flattened them against his head with a smirk but didn’t reply.
In time, their levity faded, and the three hours that followed seemed to stretch on forever. Their conversation ran dry, and the giddy excitement they’d been feeling soured to nervous worry. The pair checked the time again and again, so often that Druka eventually set his strand on the table face-up for the convenience alone.
Finally, they headed out with half an hour to spare, leaving plenty of time for both a bathroom break and for Druka to help Tori into an environment suit.
The corridors stood abandoned, and they anticipated that the shuttle bay would be too. Druka strolled ahead and ran his finger across the row of environment suits hanging on the charging rack, looking for one in his size, but Tori stopped dead in her tracks. “Captain!” she meeped. “What are you doing here?”
Druka spun and froze in place, but the captain grinned as he stood from the dressing bench. “I suppose I could ask you the same thing, Tori.”
Though when she stammered, he cut her off, “Kindly do not insult my intelligence with a lie.” So, she said nothing and stood in silence.
“Have a seat,” the captain told her. Tori hesitated for a moment but then sat.
“Now, wait a moment—” said Druka. He started to approach, but the captain was prepared, and he snatched a nightstick off the shelf, stopping the younger male in his tracks.
Druka sized him up for a moment as if deciding whether he could take the older male unarmed, but Captain Gutassi must have sensed this. He raised the nightstick behind Tori’s back. She shut her eyes and winced, waiting in terror for him to hit her with it, but the threat must have been sufficient as her mate backed off a step and raised both his palms in surrender.
“Good. I see we understand each other,” said the captain. With the baton, he pointed to the far end of the second bench. “Take a seat.”
When Druka hesitated, the captain added, “Go on.”
Tori’s mate finally straddled the bench and complied when Gutassi instructed him to press his palms flat against the bench in front of him, where the captain could see them.
Tori growled in frustration.
Gutassi sat too, straddling the bench beside Tori so that she was between him and Druka. Then, he glanced over his shoulder. “It’s getting late. You should probably get going.”
Engineering Chief Onaha groaned and sat up from the bench where she’d been lying. Tori hadn’t noticed her before, but without any further instruction, the older gal rose, stretched, and grabbed an environment suit off the rack. Within moments, she had fully suited up—the process only taking a tenth of the time it had taken Druka when they transferred aboard the Sailor’s Gambit I. Clearly, she had done this hundreds if not thousands of times before.
Without searching around, Onaha opened a cabinet and pulled an angle grinder from its charger. She slung the tool over her shoulder and passed through the airlock to the shuttle bay.
Tori stared with a slackened jaw. The captain and engineering chief were replacing her and Druka! They were going to cut the weld so the commissioner could escape, and they’d steal Tori’s tickets to freedom!
She glared at Gutassi. “How…? How…?” But then the missing piece slipped into place. “You were listening in to the intercom from the bridge! Why didn’t you say something?”
“Say what?” chuckled the captain. “Besides, it sounded like you had the situation under control.”
Tori ground her teeth together. In a small way, she was glad that the commissioner would still be able to escape and get treatment, but with Gutassi and Onaha going in their stead, that left Tori and Druka behind to die with everyone else. “How did you know I’d discuss this with the commissioner?” she asked at last.
The captain smiled. “I knew the commissioner would bribe anyone into helping him escape. He just needed someone to listen to him.” Gutassi’s grin seemed decidedly less grandfatherly now. “You seemed the sort that would.”
“And if I’d refused?” she asked.
Gutassi set the nightstick across his legs and rested his palms atop it. “If you hadn’t, I’d have fed my niece to him—so to speak,” he explained. “She’s as soft-hearted as her mate is gullible. Plus, he’s a welder by trade. So, I’m sure he must know how to cut a weld.”
He rolled the weapon back and forth with his palms. “One way or another, I was going to make sure Troykintrassa enacted his plan.” He stopped and then peered around her at his other captive. “Oh, and Druka—that was a really nice touch of not screwing everyone over on your way out. I doubt most people would have been so kind.”
“Nice to be appreciated,” sneered the younger male.
“You are—both of you! I deeply appreciate what you’ve done for us.” The airlock cycled a second time, and Onaha removed her helmet. “Done so soon?” asked the captain.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve cut a weld,” huffed the engineering chief, “but I still remember how.”
“Of course. Thank you for handling this personally,” he said. “Meet us on the bridge.”
“The bridge?” squeaked Tori. Why would he take them there? The officers had less than three hours now to get rid of Tori and Druka, so they could replace them without interference. But why not lock them up somewhere or—Tori didn’t wish to contemplate it, but knew it would be a logical option—kill the two of them and stash their bodies?
“Yes,” said Gutassi as he motioned for Druka to lead the way, “I’m not letting either of you out of my sight until this little drama has played out.”
“But—”
“And you’ll walk there in silence,” he added, taking up a position alongside her, a few paces behind her mate. “Best nobody else knows about the commissioner’s little plot.”
After a short walk through nearly-empty corridors, the captain and chief engineer dismissed the two officers manning the bridge and replaced them at their stations. Tori and Druka sat, unrestrained, at a darkened terminal, and everyone lapsed into silence.
“I’m scared,” Tori whispered to Druka. She squeezed his paw.
“It’ll be okay,” he reassured her.
But how? How could anything ever be all right after this? Their only hope was to leave with the commissioner, and clearly the two officers holding them captive had no intention of allowing that.
Tori wondered if they could escape. She was in no shape to run, so even if the pair snuck out while the others were distracted, they’d surely catch up long before escaping the ship. Could she use the terminal to signal the commissioner somehow?
No, that was a ridiculous plan! She was no bridge officer, didn’t know what buttons to press or what login credentials she might need. And if she could warn the commissioner, then what? Was the krakun going to insist who escaped with him? How laughable.
The hours crept by. Druka set his strand down on the keyboard so they could keep track of the time. The captain didn’t appear to mind, but neither did he show any intention of leaving and replacing them aboard the shuttle, so what was he thinking? Why didn’t he want to escape? And if he wasn’t going, then why did he care if she and her mate did?
At two minutes after oh-three-hundred, Engineering Chief Onaha stiffened, and her casual watch over a computer display turned ten-fold more intense. “He’s out,” she whispered. “He must be. Someone is interacting with the terminal at the shuttle bay. No one should be there.”
Tori put her claws between her teeth and bit down. Seconds stretched, but Onaha had no more updates to share.
“Is he…” Tori started. The other three turned toward her—well, Onaha glanced her way, but generally kept her attention on the screen. Nobody shushed her, nor threatened her. So, emboldened, she asked, “Can you tell if the commissioner is covering his tracks? Is he blinding you like he initially planned, or is he just hoping to escape before you can stop him?”
No one said anything, so she begged, “Please, I just want to know if I’d been right to trust him or if he was plotting to double-cross us.”
The captain looked over to Onaha and nodded. She said, “Doesn’t look like he’s hiding anything. I can see that he’s tapped into the control systems, overriding them … somehow. I have no idea how he’s doing this so quickly, but I can see them. If he’s doing as he promised, we should get an alert when the trinity—”
An indicator lit and one of the darkened terminals came to life. It emitted a shrill series of warning beeps that sounded like an alarm clock: be-be-beep be-be-beep be-be-beep. Captain Gutassi reached out with a long arm and tapped a button, silencing the alarm.
“The trinity is powering up,” confirmed Onaha.
Tori sat back in her seat. They were going to die, yes, but at least she could take a little comfort in knowing that they’d been right to trust Commissioner Troykintrassa. That was a tiny thing, considering, but it still mattered somehow. She dabbed at some stray tears.
The bridge fell silent, interrupted only by an occasional update from Onaha…
“The shuttle bay is depressurizing.”
“Shuttle bay doors are opening.”
“The shuttle has cleared the bay.”
“Trinity is fully online now.”
And then finally, “The commissioner’s shuttle has cleared the gate. He’s now in Krakuntec space.”
Tori released a whistling breath and flopped against the chair back. And that is that, she thought. They had no hostage now. Everything could…
Tori perked an ear. She’d been expecting the captain to immediately order a trinity shut-down, but he said nothing. Onaha didn’t tap at her keyboard, she just watched her screen with a fierce intensity.
Another achingly long minute passed while Tori felt herself waxing more and more stressed.
“The shuttle is being hailed by one of the navy’s interceptors,” Onaha announced.
“On speakers,” said Gutassi. “Mute. Give them no indication that we’re listening in.”
Onaha touched a button, and speakers popped. “—immediately. I repeat, attention shuttlecraft exiting gate PA4921, this is Captain Kitariske of the Night Strike. We have not received your authorization codes for passage into Krakuntec space. Please transmit them immediately.”
“No reply from the commissioner,” said Onaha casually.
Druka and Tori looked at each other, their eyes and ears opened wide. Tori’s heart beat so hard that she could barely hear anything over the sound of her own pulse. Had the krakun lost consciousness at the controls? They stared at the captain, but he said nothing.
Finally overcome, Tori blurted. “Why isn’t he replying?”
Gutassi scarcely reacted. He just kept staring holes into Onaha’s screen.
“We removed his radio,” muttered the captain, not even glancing their way.
–––
Reviewer's link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1CyWmh3I7SXHwylbJKWoecTIK-coSKIpL2iuzRluTHME/edit?usp=sharing
Thoughts?