The Sentry and the Strays: Hostage Video (BTHB)
Okay I'm on a roll with my BTHB - so much so that I've planned this to be 4 parts long...
Summary: While docked at a station, Kydd and Charlie get kidnapped by an old 'friend' of Maeds... (Part 1 of 4)
Wordcount: 2567
Maed didn’t panic. She’d been telling herself that for decades. Instead, she was merely passionate with her worry. Who wouldn’t be? Especially when four of the Strays were yet to return after hours of exploring the mega-station they had docked at. The Sanctus Terminal Station was the closest structure on their journey towards the next system, so they deemed it a suitable time for a quick rest stop to stretch their legs and eat something that hadn’t been freeze-dried. Kydd, Aia, and Ted had taken off quickly on foot despite the extensive network of roads. They also adopted Charlie to increase their numbers, and get the kid out of his bunk for a change. Only a few of the Strays stayed behind; the others stayed close or regularly checked in with their agreed upon code. Maed had opted to stay behind; content to oversee the refueling and top-up of their water reserves. She was also dying to begin a book she’d recently purchased, but hadn’t had the time or energy to open it to the first page...
And yet it sat in her lap, words staring up at her, but her mind was too far to catch them. She glanced at her communicator to see if she’d missed anything, but… nothing. She sighed, thinking she was just overreacting, but when the lights outside began to dim with the station's synthetic cycle, her chest began to ache. Of course she knew there was the simple explanation of them getting sidetracked; it happened to all of them when visiting a station as big as this, and even more so when Kydd was involved. But no call? Not even a message, or a signal? It made something uncomfortable twist in her gut as she tossed the book to one side and made her way to the bridge on restless legs.
Rule three: check in regularly.
“I haven’t had a message.” Said the communications officer the second she stepped through the parting door panels.
“I figured.” She said through gritted teeth.
“I’ve been going over the frequencies. This place is a mess of transmissions, so even if they did send something, it may have gotten caught in the tangle.”
“That’s not reassuring, Chip.” She said, throwing him a look. He was one of the few who hadn’t opted for exploring during their stay, and she was almost grateful for it.
“I know, but it’s a logical answer. This place is a mess.” He shrugged, and pushed his chair over to the next terminal. Within a couple of button presses, a 3D map of the entire station lit up in front of Maed from the raised, circular platform towards the centre of the bridge. Even their titanic ship appeared miniscule in comparison: just an orange blot against one of the docking arms. They could be anywhere. Commercial trading areas lined the outer-edges of the station, whereas housing blocks took up the large inner-section. There were some dedicated areas, such as two hospitals and three repair stations that orbited the central outpost like moons, but nothing stood out to her as being particularly nefarious.
She rounded the table, lips pressed together and eyes scanning the ships docked, and the ships in the in-between processes. Still, nothing screamed danger. So perhaps they truly were just side-tracked. She pulled her communicator out and pressed for Kydd. Just like earlier, it went straight through, prompting her to leave a voice message. She tried Aia, then Ted and finally Charlie. All with the same result. Chip tried also from the terminal, encountering the same outcome. He frowned, trying again.
“Connections are holding strong now.” He uttered, noting how they only dropped out a couple of times before hitting the mark. Maed pretended to listen, but her eyes locked on one ship, tucked as far into a docking arm as it could possibly go. She leant in, her nose almost touching the tiny structure.
“TrEVOr, pull this one out.” Maed ordered, and it did as asked. The small hologram of the ship was flung from its hiding place, and magnified to the best of the scanner's abilities. While some of its shape was lost, the identification code was clear as day. Worry began to pull at her chest again, and she pressed that feeling down as far as it would go. Maed didn’t have time for wasteful feelings, not if her suspicions began to materialise as true.
“TrEVOr, run that number through the registration database. Get me a name.” From his terminal, Chip turned his chair around and frowned.
“What is it, Chief?”
Maed didn’t answer as she waited for TrEVOr to respond, hands planted firmly on her hips, and mind racing.
“For the past fifteen years, the ship has been registered to a Corsair clan. No formal name has been given, but records suggest it belongs to Clan Venator." Relayed TrEVOr.
Maed let out an explosive curse as she slammed her fists against the hologram platform, her hands passing easily through the ship in her attempts to destroy the memory. She left that bastard to rot too many years ago; he wasn’t supposed to be here. Not now. Not after everything she had built with Kydd. TrEVOr spoke again:
“Captain. Aia and Ted have arrived back. They request an immediate conference.”
Out of breath and just moments later, Ted and Aia barged onto the bridge. Maed stepped forward, taking Aia’s reddened face in her hands and checking for injuries; she did the same for Ted.
“What happened?” She asked, prodding the bruises that already painted Ted’s forehead.
“They- they got taken.” Aia gasped, fighting for breath at the exertion of running the distance. Maed pulled her in for a hug and turned to Ted.
“What did you see?”
“Not much, ma’am.” He said, sheepishness tinting his anger. “It happened when we were at a bar called the Smokestack. We think they wanted Kydd but took Charlie too. We tried to go after them but…”
“An EMP got set off.” Said Aia the moment her breaths were regulated enough. “Fried the signal chips in our communicators so- so we ran back.”
“Okay.” Nodded Maed, pulling Ted in too and planting a kiss on both their foreheads as theories materialised in her mind, and anger clouded her thoughts crimson.
“Chief?” asked Chip tentatively, “We got a channel request coming through - frequency is ciphered.”
“Patch it through.” Said Maed reluctantly, breaking from the hug and turning to the viewport. “I think I know exactly who this piece of-”
“Maed.” A gravelly voice cut her off, and she turned with the fury of a thousand suns towards the screen. Damon the Poacher's rugged face filled the entire projection, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
“Talk!” She barked, crossing her arms over her chest. Chip silently got to work making the signal tangible enough to trace; making himself as small as possible behind the hologram that hopefully hid his attempts. Ted was at his side, popping open a panel of the terminal to adjust the wiring. Aia watched on, a second pair of eyes for Chip.
“It’s good to see you, too, old friend.” He chuckled slowly, his deep set eyes alight with mischief and lunacy.
“Fuck off with the pleasantries,” said Maed, “what do you want?”
“Come on, darling, it’s been a long time! How are you?”
“All the better for seeing you,” she said sarcastically.
The man clasped his hands together, smiling wide. “Good! Well, I’ve got a sort-of favour to ask you.”
Maed just raised an eyebrow and waited, doing everything in her power not to reopen old wounds. He scratched the side of his scarred nose and met her eyes with his own. They were terrifyingly dead behind the curtains of emotion he hung to look normal.
“You recently assisted a colony who were so grateful they gave you a piece of very valuable crystal.”
She rolled her eyes. The Epoch Sunstone was perfectly safe in their hold, protected in an energy field that hindered its attempts at overheating in the recycled air. The shimmering orange stone would sell for a fortune, sure, but there was no-one they trusted enough to hand such energy over to. Not even thirty cycles ago, they had been on the otherwise barren planet; assisting the colony after a natural disaster collapsed the mine on half the population. They managed to get everyone out; taking the injured aboard the Arc to treat as those on the ground fought to rebuild what was left. It was backbreaking, but fruitful work. In return, the people had promised that with the right conditions, it could power a Class A ship for years, but the engineers were still tentative in having it interact with their outdated tech and recycled air.
“It’s ours.” She said bluntly.
“Well, it is at the moment, yes. But I'm sure you’ll agree it’ll be much better in our possession. Haven’t you completed enough contracts? Gotten more than your fair share of rewards?”
“We got there first. Tough shit. We got what we deserved from that job, as is the nature of the contracts.” Her eyes burned with fury. Enjoying the game, a wide grin spread across the man’s face, nearly splitting it in two. It revealed rows of knackered teeth - two of which were missing, and many more having been replaced with those that didn’t suit his anatomy.
“Oh darling, stubborn as ever.” Damon smiled. In the distance, a sickening crack pulsed through the speakers, followed by a muffled yell. Maed's heart turned to ice. Her expression darkened into something murderous as a frozen dagger twisted in her gut. The pained cries of those she was meant to protect planted a seed of fear more potent than any niceties from a maniac could.
“Let. Them. Go.” She punctuated every word, letting them hang like venom dripping from her tongue. The soft sounds of a beating continued, and Maed fought to place the voice. Kydd? Charlie? Both possibilities played out in her mind; fighting for first place.
“You’ve gone soft, Maed.” And he had her hook, line and sinker.
“I don’t remember you ever caring as much when we flew together all those years ago, hm? You never cared enough to check over your shoulder for the others… to make sure everyone got back to the ship.”
She knew where he was going with it, yet didn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, she squared her jaw, heart pounding in her chest.
“I didn’t get soft.” She spat. “You got too violent - your ambitions outgrew what was attainable.”
“And yet you abandoned me. I thought Corsairs stuck together?”
“You broke the only two rules Corsairs have, remember? You had to go.”
The Poacher broke into a hearty, belly-laugh that echoed across the empty bridge. Maed clenched her jaw so hard she was sure she was going to crack a tooth.
“You wanted me dead? What kind of example is that?”
“If I wanted you dead, we wouldn’t be talking,” she said, “I wanted you gone - away from the clan so you wouldn’t fuck it up for the rest of us. You were going to get us killed.”
“And yet here I am,” he said smugly, waving his hands, “what good are a couple of precious rules supposed to do? Innocents get harmed, and contracts aren’t written in blood.”
“You lack honour.” Hissed Maed. He always did. “This isn’t their fight. Let. Them. Go.”
The Poacher smirked and began to step back. He was in a holding cell, the only source of light streamed through the bars, lighting up the room in fragments of pain. Dried blood and viscera caked the floor, and the tall, lanky frame of the Poacher appeared dressed in bloodied apron. Atop it, he wore a belt of knives that clinked with every step. The communicator was obviously balanced on a table next to the bars, offering ample view of the room.
Behind him sat Kydd. He was relatively unscathed, save for a couple of visible bruises and the chain bindings keeping him in place and a muzzle over his mouth. Somehow in the darkness, Kydd’s eyes found hers, as though he was screaming at her to not do anything stupid. He shook his head, a stream of red blood dried to the side of his face.
“Where’s the other one?” The boy.
“You’ll see him when you bring the stone. Think of him as… a contingency plan. You cross me and… well. You know my reputation.”
“That’s not how this is going to work.” She said, sick to her stomach. He was a poacher in more ways than one. Maed wasn’t the only Corsair whose reputation preceded her.
“Then tell me, Maed. How is this going to work, exactly?” Damon asked, grabbing a fistful of Kydd’s hair and yanking. He didn’t make a sound, but the tears in his eyes glistened from the shock. It wasn’t his first rodeo, but he still flinched when a knife grazed the taught skin of his neck, and his chest heaved.
She… she didn’t know. Fuck, she didn’t know. Her mind was so clouded by an unwelcome panic that thoughts failed to materialise. To her, every moment of hesitation was an age of failure.
There was a sudden scraping of wheels along metal, and a tablet was thrust into her hands: a location. Something she did know. Chip was at her side, trying to look as menacing as someone with big, sad eyes and the build of a twig could muster. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets as he assessed the situation. The Poacher just ruffled Kydd’s hair as he tried to shake him off and moved back towards the camera.
“You have three hours. The stone for your precious Strays.” And with that, the transmission cut off. Maed slammed her fist on the table again. One of these days she was going to crack it.
“The stone is volatile.” Said Chip, throwing his jacket on and looking to the ceiling. “TrEVOr, we need the fastest truck we’ve got.”
“Preparing.” It replied.
“You’re not coming,” Maed started, “this is my fault - my fight.”
“Strays stick together, regardless of the fuck up. You got troubles with someone from your past? Then so do we. It’s how we’ve always operated, and it doesn’t change just because it’s you.” He said, already at the door before she could even think to cross the room.
“They have two of our own. We’re all making sure they come back in one piece.” Ted agreed. He failed to keep them safe the first time, so he was sure as hell going to be there for the jailbreak.
Taken aback, Maed nodded and joined them in stride, making light work of the corridors as she got TrEVOr to sound the code for a kidnapping across the ship. Yve and Russ were already waiting in the docking bay next to one of the vehicles.
“A Corsair called Damon the Poacher has Kydd and Charlie - he’ll give them back in exchange for the Epoch Sunstone.”
“We’re not just going to give it up that easy, surely?” Russ scoffed.
“It’s volatile.” Chip repeated, “one wrong move and…”
He made a mock explosion sound and spread his hands as he did.
Aia turned to Maed, determination pulsing from her stature as a wicked grin dawned on all their faces.
“What’s the plan, Chief?”
