Read Hybrid Saga 01 - Hybrid Online

Authors: S M Briscoe

Tags: #Sci-Fi & Fantasy

Hybrid Saga 01 - Hybrid (27 page)

Over his shoulder, Sierra was connecting a scan card to some kind of small input device, sliding the card through the lift tube console’s scanner.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Running a bypass,” Sierra answered, not bothering to look up as she began inputting commands into the device attached to the card.

Jarred rolled his eyes and was about to respond when he heard an inquiring set of beeps come from behind him. Turning, he had to look down to see the small dock mech, pointing its view cam back up at him, curiously. Giving it a light kick to move it on its way, and receiving an offended squawk in return, he turned back to Sierra.

“Thank you,” he began again and pointed to the device she was holding. “But what
is
that?”

Sierra breathed out a sigh, as if annoyed. “It’s a modified card writer. Basically, it hacks into the console and retrieves the access data, then overwrites it onto the card.”

“That’s handy,” Jarred commented. He hadn’t seen any devices like it on the mercenary black market, where most new tech was field tested before being submitted for public or military contracts. “Where did you pick that up?”

“I have my sources,” she answered, playfully, before handing the scan card to him. “Done.”

Jarred turned the card over in his hand, impressed. “No doubt. What kind of sources?”

Sierra smiled. “You can’t expect a girl to give away all her secrets.”

Jarred chuckled, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “I guess not.” He noticed the sudden change in Sierra’s expression as her eyes moved to something behind him and he turned to find himself staring into the broad alloy chest plate of a dock security mech. Taking a step back, he looked up towards the mech’s face, humanoid in design, for better organic interaction.

“Human bystanders,” the security mech began, in a pleasant, masculine voice. “This lift tube is restricted to dock personnel only. It is required that you vacate the immediate vicinity.”

Jarred was about to reply to the mech when he noticed Sierra’s hand raise up to her ear, receiving some kind of message from Kern, he assumed. The sudden hardening of her features as she spoke inaudibly under her breath was a sure sign the news wasn’t good.

“If you require directional assistance,” the mech continued, “the visitor map interface can be accessed at this dock’s central information kiosk.”

“That’s alright,” Sierra interrupted, letting her hand drop back to her side. “We were just leaving.”

 

*     *     *

 

Kern sat up in his seat as the
Fancy Girl’s
computer interface announced, with a brief tone and confirmation message across the control console display, engine readiness for quick fire up.

He shook his head as he read the transponder name again on the communications display panel. A fine craft such as this required a name that signified its own greatness. It seemed almost sacrilegious to give a ship so powerful, sleek and elegant a title that mocked those very attributes. He felt it was embarrassing for the
ship
, as absurd as that may have sounded, to think that
Fancy Girl
would be the name that preceded it wherever it went. The only explanation was that Jarred, being a bounty hunter, randomly changed his transponder codes as a precaution. At least, he hoped that was the only explanation.

Making a mental note to question Jarred about it later, Kern returned his attention to the matter of prepping the ship for launch. With the engines in silent run mode, they would appear idle to any passer bye and register nominal power readouts when scrutinized by scanners. From what Kern could see, most of the onboard systems had power cloaking technology hardwired into them. That was, what systems he had been able to bring online. The majority had command locks in place, and every system that denied him access only served to increase his frustration. He wanted to see just what this ship was capable of.

The desire vanished from his thoughts as he noticed a squad of armed Trycon security officers marching on to the dock through the front viewport. His stomach suddenly tightened when his eyes came to rest on the larger being at the center of the group. Gnolith tended to stand out in most crowds.

Kern was already beginning to speak as he switched on his comm. “Sierra, we’ve got company.”


What sort of company
?” Sierra queried back, her voice a near whisper.

Kern kept his eyes on the security group. “The unfriendly kind. Looks like our Sect neighbors have hooked up with the local authorities. I count about a dozen TrySecs escorting one fur ball.”

Sierra was silent a moment. “
Then they can’t know we’re here
,
otherwise they would have sent everyone
.
They must be performing sweeps of all the ports
.”

“Wonderful, but that doesn’t really help us. As soon as they figure out we
are
here they’ll call and invite the
rest
of their friends over.”


Then we’ll just have to leave before they can make that call
.”

“How is that coming, anyway?” Kern asked, impatiently.


We’re working on it
.”

Through the viewport, Kern could see the Gnolith barking orders at the security team as half of them began to fan out in pairs across the bay with what looked like some kind of scanning equipment.

“Well, work faster. They’re breaking out the sensor gear, so I’m guessing they’re not planning on waiting for us to turn ourselves in. It looks like we might get boarded.”


That’s not an option
,” Sierra came back. Her tone left no doubt as to what he was to do if he got backed into a corner. “
Secure the package and hold tight
.
We won’t be long
.”

“That’s comforting.” Kern watched through the viewport as the Gnolith commander crossed the bay with the remaining half of the security team. “Heads up. You’ve got one fur ball and friends headed your way.”


I see them
,” Sierra came back. “
It looks like the rest are yours
.”

“Great,” Kern replied, sarcastically. “And if they come knocking?”


Stall them
.
Cut comm transmissions
.
We’ll see you soon
.” With that, Sierra’s comm went silent.

Stall them
.

Kern took one last look out the viewport before getting up from his seat to head for the flight deck hatch. He found both Orna and Elora sitting quietly at a table in the main hold.

The woman, probably not much younger than himself, seemed eerily detached, as she had been since the carrier ride back to the docking bay, and didn’t seem to take notice of his approach. He could imagine the anguish she must have been feeling at having to leave a loved one behind. He had lost a lot of friends over the years . . . but a sibling, and one so young. The pain would have to be overwhelming.

Next to her, Orna’s demeanor was inexplicably neutral as she watched him enter the hold, the events of the past few hours apparently having no effect on her. Sierra seemed more comfortable in conflict than anyone he had ever met, but he could still see when she made that transition into combat induced, steely resolve. Orna was different. There was no way of gauging her emotions or mind set from one moment to the next. She seemed to have the same reaction to anything from passing traffic to an explosion next to her head, which was really no reaction at all, except to say that she took notice of it. She noticed everything for that matter. Always watching. Quietly observing. As if she knew something everyone else didn’t. It was unsettling, but at the same time, strangely comforting.

Orna’s thin, almost nonexistent lips curled up into a polite smile, giving Kern the distinct impression she knew what he was thinking about. Feeling almost embarrassed, he brushed the thoughts from his mind and took a step toward her.

“I’m sorry,” he began awkwardly, scratching at the light stubble he had grown over the last couple of days. “It looks like we might have some trouble outside . . . and it would probably be best if you . . . if
I
. . . found you somewhere to, um . . . to hide.”

“Of course,” Orna replied, politely. “Where would you have me conceal myself?”


That
is a good question,” Kern answered her, glancing around. “I’m not really sure.” He continued talking as he began to explore the hold, inspecting the numerous compartments, most with locked, key code access panels, in hopes of finding something that would suit his purpose. “I assume Jarred, in his, uh, line of work, would have a few secret compartments on this rig, but if they’re like most of the systems on board, I’ll never be able to get into them. But, I doubt we’re going to fool anybody if we just hide you under the table.” He punched a few keys on a storage locker’s access pad and scowled when he received a negative squawk in return.

“Will this suffice?”

Kern glanced over his shoulder to find Orna standing beside a knee high, open storage bay. A bit surprised, he crossed the hold and glanced inside the small compartment, which was nearly empty but for a stack of, what looked like, dry ration kits and a few rolled up blankets. Reaching out to pull on the simple sliding door, while suppressing the urge to curse at himself, he put on his least impressed face and shrugged.

“I guess it will have to.” Pausing long enough to further convey the lack of interest he hoped he was conveying, he let out a weary breath and continued. “But, it won’t take long to find you if we’re boarded.”

Kern undid his vest and removed it, dropping to one knee in front of Orna. “There’s no need for them to come aboard if their scanners can’t read you. My vest is reinforced with a bratanium mesh. It should shield your body temperature from them.” He held the vest up to her, but stopped himself, waiting for the small being to give her permission first.

Orna blinked her large eyes at him and nodded, what he took to be her approval, and he carefully draped the oversized vest over her thin shoulders. The garment covered all of her torso and most of her legs. Hidden in the storage closet, she should be fairly well cloaked. He hoped.

After shifting a few things around in the compartment, he let Orna step inside. It wasn’t roomy for her, but if they
were
boarded, the small closet might go unnoticed. After all,
he
hadn’t seen it. Orna sat on the rolled blankets he had arranged for her and stared up at him, her features betraying no signs of fear or anxiety. He felt the need to comfort her anyway.

“Everything will be fine,” he promised her, pouring as much confidence as he could into his voice. “We’ll get you out of here.”

She smiled back at him kindly, and as he slid the door closed, Kern found himself wondering who it was he was trying to convince more. Orna or himself.

Chapter 16

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sierra peered out from around the corner of a docked freighter’s extended landing strut and watched as the Gnolith Sect officer and his local security escort approached the control room lift tube, suppressing the urge to strike.

Attacking the group now would only get a lot of people killed, themselves most likely included, and if any shots were fired, the bay’s security systems would put the dock into a standard, automated lockdown, trapping them and everyone else inside. Neither outcome was very appealing. Her mission was to get Orna out safely and that was exactly what she intended to do. She couldn’t allow her personal feelings to get in the way of that.

The only real option was to gain access to the control room and shut down the barrier shield, and to do so without raising any alarms in the process. Once they somehow, miraculously accomplished those feats, she would be in a much better position to exact a little vengeance, though she knew it would only dull the rage she was feeling inside. The real target of her anger was probably long gone by this time, slithering away like the coward he was while counting the slave currency he had traded for the lives of Kam and Meera and the countless others who had been caught in the cross fire.

“This is going to complicate things,” Jarred commented, quietly from over Sierra’s shoulder, jarring her from her thoughts.

Lost for a moment in her vengeful fantasy, she had nearly forgotten Jarred was there at all and, making a motion to turn, bumped backwards into him. She felt his hands lightly grip her shoulders, holding on just long enough to steady her and to make her cheeks flush, uncharacteristically. Feeling suddenly uncomfortable with their close proximity, and her embarrassing reaction to it, she attempted to move forward to put some space between them, but was stopped by the landing strut they were both using for cover.

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