“You know,” he said, his tone as casual as if we were discussing the weather, “I find myself feeling a touch curious about your little ship’s mission.”

  Captain Hansen frowned, her eyes narrowing. “What are you getting at, Redgrave?”

  The cyborg pirate tilted his head, the hologram mimicking the motion. “Well, it’s not every day I get a message telling me not to blow a sworn enemy out of the sky. Makes me wonder what it is about your dusty space-shovel that’s so special.” He paused for effect, his one organic eye gleaming with a dangerous sort of amusement. “The important part is that I’ve decided to allow you to come closer to Ganymede. Have yourselves a scanning party, if you like.”

  The captain’s frown deepened, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “And what about the rest of our fleet?”

  Redgrave chuckled, the sound grating and metallic. “Oh, them? They’d best keep their distance. We don’t want any misunderstandings, now do we?”

  Captain Hansen stared at the pirate’s holographic visage for a long moment, weighing her options. Finally, she nodded, her jaw set with determination. “Very well, Redgrave. We’ll come alone. But this doesn’t mean we trust you.”

  A grin split the pirate’s scarred face. “Trust?” he scoffed. “In this line of work, Captain, trust will get you killed. No, all we have here is a mutual... curiosity.”

  As the connection cut out, I couldn’t help but feel a bit disgusted. We were headed toward Ganymede, drawn in by a cyborg pirate with unknown motives and a warning from our mysterious friends at 944 Hidalgo. One thing was for certain: we were diving headfirst into dangerous waters, and there would be no turning back.

  Captain Hansen slammed her fist down on the table, the sound echoing through the bridge room.

  “You and you—conference room, now.” She glared around the room, her eyes like ice. The last man in the place she glanced at was me, and she gave me a nod. I fell into step, escorting her off her own bridge.

  When the top officers were seated in an adjacent room, Commander Kaine glanced over at me. His face twisted into a sneer.

  “What, exactly, is he doing here?” he asked disdainfully.

  The captain’s eyes flicked to me for a moment before returning to Kaine. “Starn goes where I go,” she said. “Get used to it.”

  Kaine’s jaw clenched, but his gaze dropped to the table in defeat.

  Accountant Blackwood shifted in his seat, his eyes darting between Kaine and Captain Hansen.

  “So... what’s our plan?” he asked hesitantly. “Are we really going to risk getting closer to this madman’s lair? He’s lusting for that. He’s just communicating with us to get us to come closer, into the range of his alien weaponry.”

  Kaine’s eyes squinted in calculation before nodding. “I have to agree with Blackwood. We should turn back. Whatever this alien weapon is, it’s already destroyed several other ships. We don’t stand a chance. I think Redgrave just wants us to get close enough to guarantee him a sure-shot kill.”

  Captain Hansen shook her head. “We don’t know that for certain, and we can’t afford to turn back now. Redgrave said he’ll allow us to approach Ganymede. Must I remind everyone that our accounts are frozen back home on Mars? If we return now, we won’t get a lot of sympathy from anyone.”

  “You’re putting this ship and crew at risk for some foolhardy mission!” Kaine complained. “Let Earth-Gov’s cruisers handle this if they’re so inclined.”

  The captain looked pissed. Everyone seemed about ready to go off. But then she regained control of herself. She leaned forward and spoke in a low tone. “We’re going to Ganymede, and that’s final. If any of you have a useful suggestion, I suggest you share it now. Otherwise, keep your mouth shut.”

  The room fell silent. I stood there, my eyes sliding over each officer in turn. I didn’t care what they talked about—I was looking for a traitor. Someone who might use this moment of emotion and distraction to try to take over the ship.

  Captain Hansen addressed the assembled officers. “I’ve spoken to the colonel about this development. We have no choice but to proceed.”

  Kaine snorted. “Ah, yes. The colonel’s word is law, isn’t it? We’re nothing more than test subjects in this grand experiment of his.”

  Blackwood spoke up. He sounded agitated. “And it’s all because of your kindness back at that asteroid, Captain. We should have slaughtered the mutants instead of giving them medicine. Your soft heart is coming back to haunt us all.”

  The captain glared at everyone. “You listen to me, both of you,” she said. “If I hadn’t cut a deal with the pirates, we’d likely be nothing more than debris floating in space, just like the Sarasvati.”

  I watched as Kaine and Blackwood exchanged unhappy glances. Their bravado had been momentarily silenced by the captain’s words. I knew, in that moment, that Captain Hansen was right. Her actions at the asteroid had bought us a fragile alliance with Redgrave and his pirates—an alliance that could mean the difference between life and death as we ventured into the unknown.

  This ship was a den of snakes, and I was left wondering what had happened to the last guy who’d played the part of Hansen’s personal bodyguard.

  There had to have been one before… right?

  Chapter 19: Approaching Jupiter

  From a few million miles away, Jupiter appeared as a colossal sphere dominating our view. The gas giant’s swirling cloud patterns were stunning, and its beige and white bands stretched across the vast expanse of its surface. The planet’s famous Great Red Spot stood out like an angry blemish. It was actually a fierce, churning storm that had raged for many centuries, and dwarfed storms on Earth.

  Together, Jupiter and its largest moons kept attracting my eye while I patrolled the upper decks. I found myself admiring the view at the various viewing stations. While on patrol duty on the command deck, I stopped to stare. I couldn’t help it. All four of the biggest moons had come out from behind the big planet, and I had to take a longer look.

  “You see that one?” a feminine voice asked. It was Ensign Freya Carter, my ex-girlfriend. She’d caught me stargazing—but I didn’t much care. She wasn’t likely to report me, even if she had reason to.

  “Which one?” I asked.

  “I’m talking about Io,” she said, “the closest of the four. Just there, see?”

  I stared at the vibrant yellow-orange sphere she’d indicated. The moon was speckled with dark spots.

  “It has burn-marks on the face of it,” I said, “or something like that...”

  “Yes. That’s exactly what they are. Io’s surface is marred by volcanic eruptions which send plumes of sulfur and other materials into space. They kind of stain the surface.”

  Io was passing between Borag and Jupiter. The slowly stirring atmosphere of the gas giant created a nice backdrop of swirling colors behind the moon.

  Freya had always been a fine student of astronomy. Standing there talking to her about these things made me recall our happiest days back on Mars. She’d often schooled me about the cosmos by day—and then schooled me about more personal matters at night.

  “The next in line is Europa,” she continued. “That’s a strange one. Its surface is a single massive sheet of ice.”

  I saw it, a white sphere with an icy, cracked surface that shone brilliantly in the sunlight.

  “Europa’s smooth, ice-covered exterior hides a deep subsurface ocean beneath that frozen crust. We’ll mine that moon for water someday. Next to Earth, it’s the largest repository of water in the entire Solar System.”

  “Liquid water…” I said. “That’s a real find out here in space.”

  “It is. The hot core keeps it all from freezing to the bottom of that massive ocean, but the surface freezes solid because space is so cold. Then there’s Callisto—to the right, see it?”

  I saw it. It was a heavily cratered moon with an ancient, battered surface.

  “What about Ganymede?” I asked. “That’s where we’re going.”

  “Ganymede is sunward. It’s the largest moon in the known universe, roughly the size of Pluto.”

  I eyed the target moon with interest. It was a dwarf planet, really. The ancient craters and grooves had been plowed up by violent impacts over eons of time.

  “What do we know about it?” I asked.

  “It’s kind of weird that anyone would want to live there, honestly,” she said. “Jupiter emits a lot of harsh radiation, and there’s almost no atmosphere on Ganymede. There’s a lot of water, though. There’s a subsurface ocean, and some of it is in liquid form. In that sense, it’s similar to Europa.”

  “How cold is it?” I asked.

  “Worse than Mars. We’re talking about minus two hundred and fifty degrees.”

  “So…” I said. “Let me see if I can sum this place up. It’s a frozen hell with a big helping of radiation?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “That’s charming,” I said.

  She nodded, staring at the images of the Jupiter system. We were speeding toward the various globes, but it felt like nothing was moving at all. By the time we got there, however, I knew everything would have moved significantly.

  “I’m glad I’m not going outside—onto the surface, I mean,” she said, looking at me.

  Her hand came up then, to touch my arm briefly. She looked concerned. I knew she still had feelings for me—as I did for her. It was obvious.

  I manufactured a big smile. “Don’t worry about Red Company. Worry about the other guys.”

  Freya smiled back, but with less enthusiasm. We both knew that being a Red Company marine was one of the most dangerous jobs aboard Borag. You not only had to go outside into hazardous environments, you also had to get shot at frequently as well—as if space wasn’t deadly enough all by itself.

  “Thanks for the astronomy lesson,” I told her.

  We smiled at each other for a long moment—long enough that I started to get worried about Ana catching us. It wasn’t like we were making out or anything, mind you, but I knew my little wild-woman wouldn’t like it. She was very well-grounded in the emotional basics—like jealousy.

  We parted ways as I begged off. I really had to get back to my patrol rounds, and so nothing came of that chance meeting—except to plant lingering thoughts in my overcrowded mind.

  In the dark, gritty corridors of the ship, I prowled like a hulking beast, my senses tingling.

  On my third time passing through deck seven—the big ship shuddered. There was no warning. The thick metal walls just began to shake.

  Then an alarm blared, and my gut tightened. The ship lurched violently, throwing crewmen around like ragdolls. Their cries of surprise and pain echoed through the confined space.

  I fought to stay upright, using my powerful left arm to brace myself against the walls. As I stumbled through the chaotic scene, I caught glimpses of the injured crew. My instincts screamed at me to help them—but my duty to the captain took precedence.

  The elevators were all on lockdown. You had to use your legs to get around today. Grim determination set in as I forced my way up ladders and narrow steel steps.

  Several minutes later, I made my way to the captain’s quarters. I still had no idea why the ship was undergoing violent maneuvers—but it didn’t matter. My job was to protect the top officers who kept the ship flying.

  I tapped the handle, and it chimed politely. When there was no answer, I banged on the door, which rattled with my hammered blows—still nothing.

  Worried that someone had taken this opportunity to take a shot at our capable, but vulnerable captain, I tested the lock. By “testing” it, I mean I gripped it with my bulging left hand and twisted until my leathery palms were bruised even inside my gauntlets.

  The door handle stood no chance against the force of my mutated muscles, and the mechanism broke. The door swung open, setting off a pathetically inadequate alarm tone.

  Inside, I found Captain Hansen. She was pale and stretched out on the floor, blood trickling from a cut on her forehead.

  My teeth bared themselves, and after I made sure there was no one else hiding in the dark to strike at me, I quickly moved to her side. She was a strong woman, but she had limits.

  I slid my massive left arm under her butt and lifted her up. I stood her on her feet like a doll. The ship continued its wild dance, throwing us both off balance, but my strength kept us from doing another facer.

  “I must have hit my head…” she said. “Maybe on the desk…”

  “Yes, ma’am. We have to get to the bridge,” I told her.

  “Right… Escort me, Sergeant.”

  By “escort”, she meant “bodily carry”, but I made no further mention of it. Together, we stumbled through the chaos. Every warning message and light told us to stop, to return to our quarters and strap in—but we ignored them all.

  Every time the ship lurched, dodging something out there in space, I used my powerful frame to shield the captain from further harm. I moved between her body and every bulkhead and steel ladder, grunting as I created a marginally softer barrier between the two.

  At last, we burst onto the bridge. A cacophony of voices and beeping consoles surrounded us. Every crew member worked with a frantic efficiency. My gaze swept across the room, taking in the chaos and searching for answers.

  The captain, leaning heavily against my ribs, called out above the noise. “Report! What’s happened?”

  A young, nervous-looking sensor operator spoke up. “Captain, we’ve detected an explosion less than a thousand miles from our starboard flank. The helmsman immediately initiated evasive maneuvers, as per standard protocol.”

  Captain Hansen looked thoughtful. “An explosion that close... Any idea what caused it?”

  The sensor operator shook his head, his fingers dancing across the console. He brought up screens full of charts and raw data that glowed in holographic patterns.

  “Not yet, Captain. We’re analyzing the readings now. It could have been a rogue asteroid, space debris—or something worse.”

  The captain exchanged a brief, worried glance with me before addressing the helmsman. “Good work on the evasive action. Keep us on high alert until we have more information.”

  The helmsman, sweat beading on his brow, nodded. “Aye, Captain.”

  She turned to me then, and she whispered. “Get my ass into that chair—and make it look natural.”

  I did my best—but it didn’t look natural. I caught a few odd glances from the crew. They could tell she was injured and needing help—but at least they didn’t demand any answers. They were all too busy trying to keep us from perishing from the unknown threat outside Borag’s thick hull.

  Once she was in her padded chair and able to think clearly, Captain Hansen turned her attention back to the sensor operator. “I want a full analysis of that explosion, and I want it yesterday. We need to know what we’re dealing with.”

  I found a spot that was out of the way and yet within striking distance of the captain’s chair. I wasn’t fully convinced someone wasn’t putting on a show just to kill her in the confusion—such things had happened before.

  The bridge was a madhouse. Every crewmember was working hard to figure out where the explosions had come from.

  “Another explosion—off our port bow this time!” Freya shouted. “Same distance as before!”

  To me, it seemed like someone was shooting at us, trying to bracket us in and get the range right.

  The helmsman looked like he was going to shit himself, but he tried not to let on. He steered the ship in the opposite direction. It was a desperate bid to evade the unseen danger.

  Captain Hansen’s eyes were wide, but her brain was still working. “Stop the evasive maneuvers!” she ordered. “Level off and fly straight. We can’t keep running from ghosts.”

  The helmsman hesitated for a moment, his hands hovering over the controls. Then, reluctantly, he followed the captain’s command. The ship steadied.

  Standing by Hansen’s side, I figured she was right, but that didn’t make the unknown any less terrifying. I glanced at the crew and found every eyeball on the bridge was flicking between their consoles and the main viewscreens.

  Captain Hansen dared to get out of her chair. As the ship wasn’t trying to do any more handstands, this went better than expected. She was clearly sore in the head and the ribs, but she stood in front of the main viewscreen with her spine fairly straight. She carefully scanned the information displayed.

  I positioned myself at her side. There was no way I was going to let one of these snots take a poke at her. That had happened during our voyage to Proxima Centauri—and one assassination attempt on this bridge was enough.

  Ensign Freya Carter, her young eyes sharp and determined, called out from her console, “Captain, I’ve analyzed the debris. Something blew up out there.”

  “What did they hit? Are we talking about missiles?”

  Freya shook her head. “It appears two stealthed ships were pacing Borag. They’ve both been destroyed.”

  The captain’s eyes squinted at Freya. “Ships we didn’t even detect were shot down? Are you certain?” she asked in disbelief.

  “Yes, Captain,” Freya responded. “The debris patterns and the residual energy signatures all point to two ships being caught in those explosions.”

  “But how…? And what caused them to blow up—where did they come from? We haven’t spotted any ships that close.”

  Freya shook her head. “All of that is unknown, Captain.”

  Captain Hansen stared at nothing. She was thinking hard. “It seems we’re caught in the middle of a deadly game—and we’re still playing it.”

  She turned to the crew as if coming awake. “We need answers, and we need them fast. Ensign Carter, continue your analysis. I want to know everything we can about these ships and what caused their destruction.”

  I wasn’t sure how she could be so calm. We’d narrowly avoided destruction ourselves, and the danger was far from over.

  Within a minute of steadying our course, our holographic receiver lit up. Captain Hansen waved for the operator to allow the call to come through.