Passion's Escape

A crash...

"We're coming in too hot! Dammit all to Hell!

Dragon raged at the crew as he attempted furiously to recalibrate the ship in a desperate effort to save it. They were deep in uncharted space, not a good place for a major malfunction.

The ship pitched sickeningly to the left, knocking the crew off balance. One of the flight operators fell from his seat and slid into the wall with a nauseating crunch. The awkward angle of his head meant he wouldn't be getting up again. Dragon gritted his teeth as the right stabilizer died with its operator.

More red warning lights appeared on his console. The sudden release of the sensors must have caused an issue with the hydraulics. Dragon felt the ship lunge forward before he saw the pressure gauge drop dramatically. This was not good . . . not good at all!

For a moment, Dragon caught up in the memory of how he came to find himself moments from death.

"Come on, Hawk. I'm taking the ship father modified for hauling his wealth around and I'm going to go have some fun for once. I'm twenty-four years old! Father needs to remember that I no longer need a nursemaid. There's this great place just off the Sector X-delta-five moon. One of the diplomats Father had here last month told me about it. Girls, very naked and willing girls, as far as the eye can see. It can be your bachelor party. They have rare alcohol and every type of woman possible." Dragon was almost jumping out of his skin in excitement This'd be a real blast! However, not without my best friend . . . Seeing Hawk's indecision, Dragon changed his tactics." You know if you don't come I will be totally alone and unprotected," he wheedled. "As my personal bodyguard you have a responsibility to see to my safety. In addition, I don't want to hang around for all those matchmaking noblewomen to catch. Please?"

Hawk let out a put-upon sigh and looked very unhappy, but he agreed. "If Lady Sky or your father the Emperor blames me for this, I'm putting it all on you, Dragon. You know he only allows that place to exist so he can monitor who indulges in that sort of immorality."

Dragon felt so happy they would be adventuring together that he agreed without a thought. Excited, Dragon grinned and sauntered off to inform the crew they would be hauling the emperor's most priceless treasure, his only son and heir. 

Dragon was beginning to rue the idea to rebel against his father by taking the ship into non-Imperial space. Now he found himself in a no-win situation in uncharted space! He looked over at Hawk, his best friend and most trusted commander and hoped he could get them both out of this alive.

Hawk glanced back with a worried expression on his face. "You do know if we survive, my fiancée will kill us, and if she doesn't your father will, right?"'

Dragon shrugged, not wanting to show Hawk he realized he had messed this up royally. Hmmmm . . . Royally. That was almost funny. By all the gods! Father will be in even more danger if I die!

Fighting more furiously for his survival and that of his crew, he let his dark epiphany guide his actions. I will not let this venture into disobedience kill my friend and the crew I shanghaied to serve my whim, he vowed to himself, or my father. Having exhausted all options, in the end Dragon had begun to admit to himself the ship was lost, when a blip on the viewing panel brought a glimmer of hope burning brightly into his heart.

Small and uncharted, an outpost was just ahead. If he made a few minor adjustments with what was left of the ship's navigation, he might be able to make it. Badly damaged, the ship's landing would not be pretty and probably cause their deaths anyway. However, if they survived it, big if, there would be oxygen, and hope, and at the moment even a slim hope was better than none.

* * * *

Passion, daughter of Vulture and younger sister to Raven and Eagle, was lying halfway under the wreck of a small class D transport. Her father kept the rusting piece of junk for parts, but Passion saw potential in the old girl. If she could just get the major problems fixed, the little beauty would be her ticket away from the dustbowl she called home, far, far away. Now that Passion was working on a very tight schedule, she spent most of her waking hours on it.

This sort of task was hard, and time consuming, but she'd done it so often she could let her mind wander, and did. At least that made it less monotonous.

If she weren’t gone by the time her father and brothers returned home, one of two things would happen. Scenario One: he would have been able to borrow the funds he needed to keep his operation running and she would continue as miserably as she had been for the last twenty- four years. Scenario Two: her father would return desperate for cash and would trot her down to the slave market to sell her for as much as he could get.

Passion knew she was still worth a great deal of money, virginity or not. A girl like her was rare on the market in a remote outlaw place like Freedom Port. She was young and attractive, plus she was in very good health. Passion would bring her father a very reasonable price. She was the only thing the bank didn't already own, and she knew her father would quite happily sell her. Freedom Port is no place for the weak, she thought.

Passion had figured that much out as a very little girl. If mother had survived, maybe things would have been different. Maybe. Death is so common in the port; mother was so sweet and soft. Her death was unavoidable. Famine and disease were common, but Passion had survived it all. Years of fending for herself in such conditions had given her an unusual strength of body and mind. Too bad it had not bothered to give her a ship! She'd learned more fighting tricks through the years than home-making skills, and as a tomboy by necessity, at times she forgot she was a woman. At least my adaptability kept me alive when many of the other women and girls have died.

Passion was working as fast as she could, doing her best to improvise parts, but she knew there were only another two weeks before her father returned, and the clock was ticking. If Passion wasn't finished and gone by then it would be game over. She would have no control over her future, ever again.

Born on the outlaw rock, Passion didn't have official papers. As a ghost in the system, she knew that if she could afford a decent forger she could create an impressive pedigree and pave her way to a better life. At least, that was her hope. Years of selling scrap and saving every penny she could find, steal, or earn had given her just enough money to feel confident that her plan would work. Now all I need is the transportation.

"Damn the gods!" Passion swore as she scraped her knuckles yet again.

Passion felt it was poetic justice to use the skills she'd learnt watching her father and brothers work in the little chop shop they operated out here in the back of beyond. Anything they could steal they could take apart and put back together again, in better condition than it had been in when they acquired it. They just had no idea she could do it too. None of the men had noticed Passion learning right along with her brothers, and she'd made sure to sharpen her skills until she was better than all of them.

Smiling to herself in smug confidence, Passion tightened another bolt.

Secretly doing small repairs jobs on the side, for a fraction of what her father would have charged, had earned her enough money to start afresh and the business skills to be able to set herself up anywhere. A frown crossed Passion's face as she allowed, to herself anyway, that by undercutting her father's earnings she had inadvertently put herself into this situation.

Passion looked out at dry dusty landscape of tans and muted browns. The planet was mostly sand and even the buildings were made out of it. Lonely and harsh, there was an ugly beauty to the land that Passion could see. She chuckled. Gods, she was well and truly sick of the color brown! Freedom Port was dry, but many plants contained water, and if you knew how to find them, you could survive alone in the wilderness. The only reason Passion hadn't just escaped into the planet's wide deserts was the fact her father would probably find her anyway. He didn't like losing what he considered his. Hating the port, she often dreamed of faraway lands, lands she had only seen on her viewer. Watching the viewer was her only source of culture, education, or entertainment, since Freedom Port had no time or resources for anything not directly related to survival.

Passion finished the section she'd been working on all morning and moved further 'round the engine. If not for dear old Dad I would've been long gone by now! She mused. Everyone in the Port knew her father and his infamous temper. He'd killed men for less than aiding his run-away daughter. There'd been no luck trying to buy her escape either, since no captain thus far had the balls to help her. She knew better than to stow away. It'd mean certain death if she was caught, since any captain would have her thrown out an airlock, probably after she was r***d by the entire crew. Passion shuddered in revulsion at the thought. That was not a risk she was ready to take. Not yet, anyway, she acknowledged. Getting the rusty antique in front of her into the sky was her best option.

She was so focused on the repairs and her wandering thoughts that when a screeching space vessel crashed landed on their private launch port she jumped and hit her head on the bulkhead. Damn the gods forever! Realizing the irritating sound was of a ship wing clipping the shop exterior, Passion crawled reluctantly out from under the wreck, wiping her greasy hands on her coveralls.

Straightening the cap that held her long russet hair hidden, Passion snagged the antiquated Phase-One laser pistol that was her only protection and moved closer to the front of the shop. Needing to know what was going on she cautiously poked her head around the corner.

A large, badly damaged cargo ship lay awkwardly on the launch pad. It was totally unremarkable as cargo ships went. Hmmmm. Huge doors along the side made the ship look like it could carry any type or size of cargo. This is no small business freighter, definitely industrial. Looks like it's seen better days too. Passion also noticed it was unmarked, very illegal. As she watched, the ship's hold doors opened slowly.

A man exited warily. Her breath caught. Never in my life have I seen such a magnificent specimen of hunkalicious! That stray thought actually said quite a lot about the male exiting the wreck since Freedom Port's population was eighty percent male. He was tall and lean, and his bronze skin was bare except for his leggings which showed he was large in other places too. He was built like nothing she had ever seen before. These days, so many men spent their lives in tight cargo ships that muscle men were a dying breed. This one reminded her of an athlete or manual-labor slave. It was obvious just from his stance this breathtaking male was no slave, and he couldn't be an athlete, since no wealthy man would travel in a cargo ship. Unfortunately, this conclusion left her at a loss in determining his class, and therefore her safety. She fearlessly activated her weapon, making it ready in case she needed to defend herself. 

The next man out of the ship was almost more beautiful than the first. He was just a bit shorter than the first man, and his armbands were far more ornate. They told her this one was definitely wealthy, possibly even title. What could they possibly be doing on a cargo ship? It made no sense for a man of high-class to be in Freedom Port. Passion became even more suspicious. Either this is a government bust, or these two are in a great deal of trouble. Trouble she could handle, government . . . not so much.

Keeping her weapon trained on the strangers, she was afraid.

Passion hoped they were criminals because she could trust someone from the shady side of the law more than the ruling elite or a government official. Taught from the cradle to sniff out and distrust authority, Passion had a rebellious spirit. It was probably why she didn't respect her father.

Passion always found it funny his rebellious teachings had backfired on him in such a way.

Nervous and watchful, she did not show herself, but stayed in the shadows of the store. Studying the men as they disembarked, along with a crew of four, she waited, trying to decide if they were friend or foe. A normal crew would've been eight men. Two were missing. She was smart enough not to jump out into an ambush. Twice before she had foolishly walked into a firefight. The scar on her left shoulder was a permanent reminder friendliness could get you dead in Freedom Port. The first man out of the ship acted as a shield for the second man. Some kind of bodyguard? His actions confirmed her suspicions that this was no typical crew of bandits.

When the taller man called out to her, she jumped and almost shrieked in alarm.

"I see you there boy. Come out and bring your master to me."

My small stature and hidden hair must have led him to conclude I'm a young boy, she decided. Passion was glad for the protection the mistake gave her. In most cases, a young boy stood a better chance with strangers than a young woman would. She slouched a bit to disguise her ample chest. The baggy coveralls didn't display her feminine virtues anyway but she wasn't going to make them any more obvious than necessary. With her weapon in her belt but still charged, she walked out holding her hands up to show she wasn't hostile. If any of them decide to fire a weapon, they'll find out how fast I can fire on them. Passion was an amazingly quick draw. Although she'd never killed a person, she had shot more than one bandit and was not afraid to use her weapon again if she had to.

"I'm the only one here. I'm the apprentice and I do repairs. What can I do for you gentleman?" man one looked offended. When he spoke, she fought the urge to shoot him. "I am not going to deal with some child-in-training. I want the shop-master. My ship needs to be repaired quickly and well."

Definitely upper class with that tone of voice! "Then you had better take it down the strip, because I'm the only one here."

His expression darkened. "I am not going to play games. No Shop Master, even one in such a nefarious out post, would leave a child in charge. I want to see the master, now!"

"I'm in charge and the master is my father. He trusts me to see to repairs. If you want your ship fixed by someone else, drag it out of here! I'm the best that you'll do here!" Gods men are assholes!

The tall men began rapidly to discuss the situation in a language that Passion had never heard before.

It was not Basic almost a High Basic with something else. The something triggered a memory that she couldn't quite put her finger on. These guys are definitely not bandits. Bandits don't speak the language of the ruling class. Frowning, she noticed the insignia on one of the armbands, and it made her want to shoot first and ask questions later. She now felt certain in her mind they belonged to the house of the Universal Emperor. The Emperor had a heart of pure evil and was the most hated man in the galaxy. He'd killed democracy, and they wore his mark. People like Passion and her family were forced to immigrate to outposts like Freedom Port or else submit to the rigid rules of a caste system. With her heritage, she would have been no better off than a slave if she had been born on a charted world.

Her twitchy trigger finger must have made the bodyguard nervous, and before she realized what was happening, he sprang at her.

Passion drew as he moved, and when he came to a stop in front of her, the old weapon was pressed against his chest. He was fast but she was faster. The man looked angry, but also seemed to be grudgingly impressed.

Scowling into his face, she spoke quietly. "You'd be dead if I wanted to kill you. Back off and leave and I'll not kill you. Come at me like that again and you'll not get another warning."

His deadly look was not reassuring. "You are just a little girl! Woman, put that weapon down and I'll not hurt you."

Infuriated at the derisive tone she pressed her weapon further into his flesh. "You're the one who stands next to death. I'll not put my weapon down until you're on your ship and away from me and my people!"

Their battle of wills was interrupted by the other man's laughter.

Neither of them willing to look away, Passion and the larger man stared each other down angrily, both of them ready to fight to the death. When the other man spoke the giant finally backed away. Passion did not lower her weapon.

"Hawk, it looks like the little warrior has you! I don’t think she’s lying about her abilities. Girl or boy, she is capable. Back away and if she can fix the ship quickly, we will pay accordingly. Let's give the little warrior a chance."

She watched the one that he had called Hawk back up. Physically he blocked his master from the potential danger of her weapon. Scowling she spoke with pride and determination.

"I'll fix your ship for only one payment. Safe transport away this world and without questions or papers. If I'm willing to travel in the ship after I repair it, you can be certain it'll be safe. Do we have a deal? I want to be out of here as quickly as possible."

They looked surprised by her request. She listened to them speaking privately and strained her ears to hear. She was sure that their language was a mixture of High Basic and ancient English. These men belonged to the Emperor and she hated having to trust them, but her options were limited. This was her best bet. She knew that she could definitely get their ship in the air before her little wreck.

They turned to her. Bravely, she did not flinch, or show just how worried she was. When the bodyguard spoke, she was relieved and terrified.

"Ok little warrior, you have your bargain. You must swear your fealty to Lord Dragon before you begin the task."