Chapter 39: Chapter 7: Mad Dash

“What’s this about?” Dash asked as the security officers neared. Both wore repurposed miner’s utilities adorned with security badges and kit. Hired thugs employed by the corporate station owners, who no doubt wanted to avoid the expense and oversight that came with employing SecForce personnel. Dash couldn’t tell if their heavy brows were the normal miffed expressions held by most private security or if they were extra perturbed.

As the officers came to a halt, Tinker strode by, Gaius close behind. The officers eyed the bot. One of them—Boci by his name tag—pointed at Wesley. “Hold up, what happened to him?”

Gaius halted himself and the bot. He went to speak, but Dash cut him off. “I left him at the pub. Big mistake.”

The officers glanced at each other, then directed their irritation at Dash. “You’re getting a big fat fine if he gets sick all over the deck,” the other officer said, apparently named Galo.

“I’ve paid enough of those today. Better get him out of here then,” Dash said to Gaius.

“Yes, Captain,” Gaius said, and marched off with the bot.

“You’re coming with us,” Boci said. “Porter wants a word with you.”

“Take me to him then. I’ve got a delivery to make,” Dash said.

“You leave when we say you can leave,” Boci said, and gestured toward the opaque glass structure that was Dock Control.

Dash walked in step with the officers, mentally preparing himself for the imminent conversation. They wound between a few bot carts and dockworkers. Overhead, a crane drove along its track, moving a pallet further down the bay. Though there was activity, the cargo operations were clearly operating below capacity. If the economics of the station didn’t miraculously turn around soon, operations could cease entirely in a few more cycles. Dash would’ve guessed the station folded already, but judging by Kashara’s scheming, the mining guild did whatever they could to keep the station afloat.

Ahead, the hatch to Dock Control opened. Dockmaster Porter’s pudgy form lumbered out, holding the same frown as when he’d first confronted Dash about the fines. He held a datapad in one hand, and one of the local protein-stuffed carbohydrate wraps in the other. Some of the sauce had leaked through the cellulose fiber packaging and stained his uniform top. His frown morphed into a smirk as he neared. “Boci, Galo, you can go. I’ve got it from here.”

The security officers departed after one last menacing glare toward Dash. Porter took in Dash. There was hints of flushed skin on Dash’s face despite the medication he’d applied from Wesley’s medkit. “Captain Anderton, back so soon? Did you have a nice chat with Kashara and Osric?”

“We came to an agreement. She told me to load up and head out immediately.”

Porter’s mouth dropped. “Now that you’re a contract employee of the mining guild, you will address me as Dockmaster Porter.”

“I apologize, Dockmaster Porter.”

The man continued to glower at Dash in an attempt to demean the captain. “You have only yourself to blame for the earlier incident. If you weren’t such a stubborn ass and adhered to Commonwealth standards, then all this unpleasantness would’ve been avoided from the start.”

Dash squeezed his hand to avoid driving it into the man’s mouth. “Roger that, Dockmaster.”

“On to business,” Porter said, examining his datapad. His eyes raised a hair when he pulled up the contract. “Looks like she gave you the rock run. You know what you’re doing, right?”

“Yes, Dockmaster. Head to the transfer point, then get back here before SecForce would have any chance to intercept.”

“That’s right. I expect you to be on time.” Porter opened the docking queue on his datapad. “Looks like my workers have the pallet loaded up. You’ll be cleared to leave shortly.”

“We’ll be ready.”

A high-pitched voice called out from behind Dash. “Hey buddy, tough luck on the rock run.” He pressed his lips together, silently cursing the bad timing of the other captain. Plodding footsteps approached from behind. Captain Bania stepped beside Porter and Dash, a cheesy grin on his freckled face.

“Mind your own business, Bania,” Dash said, hoping that the other captain would leave and Porter would ignore the intrusion.

Neither happened. Porter glanced at Bania. “Captain Anderton here has the rock run.”

Bania shuffled on his feet. His face scrunched, exposing his large front teeth. “No, I signed for it.”

Porter referenced his datapad. “Interesting. She gave it to Captain Bania originally, but then switched it to Captain Anderton.”

Bania scowled at the datapad, then glared righteous anger at Dash. “What’d you do?”

Dash blinked. He was on the verge of slipping out of there without getting caught until this moron had to butt in. “What are you talking about?”

Bania stepped closer. “Did you bribe her to change it?”

“You think I go around scheming to steal your work?”

“Of course you do,” Bania said. He lifted his chin. “You’re jealous of me.”

Dash clamped down on an erupting laugh, which resulted in him coughing instead. He cleared his throat and said, “Listen, Kashara and I negotiated terms, and then she told me to get down here and get going. I intend to follow those orders.”

“You’re not going anywhere until I talk to her!”

“Bug off, Bania. You don’t own the dock.”

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Bania faced Porter. “Where is she?”

“Look, don’t get me involved with this. Technically, it’s my lunch break,” Porter said, and took another bite of his wrap.

Bania frowned as he attempted to contact her. “She won’t accept my comm.”

“I wonder why,” Porter said, giving Dash a knowing glance. Something he and the dockmaster were in agreement on—Bania was annoying.

“You try to reach her,” Bania demanded of Porter.

“Fine,” Porter said, and tried as well. He frowned as the comm request timed out. “I can’t reach her either.” He squinted at Dash. “Where’d she go after you talked with her?”

“She hustled my butt out of the suite,” Dash said. “I thought she might’ve mentioned bad network reception up there.”

Bania jabbed a finger at Porter. “Get her down here. Now.”

Porter bristled, his heavy brow sinking lower. “Listen to me. You’re in my dock. You don’t bark at me like that.”

“I’ve got a ship to prep. Have fun sorting this out,” Dash said, and started to walk away. He paused to avoid stepping in front of a loading cart as it wheeled by.

“You’re not leaving,” Bania said, and stepped into Dash’s path, centimeters from the cart.

Dash resisted every urge to toss the man across the bay. “Move before I move you.”

“I’m not scared of you,” Bania said, his strained expression suggesting otherwise. He wriggled in discomfort—like a magnet pressed to the same pole—as he forced himself into the possibility of a physical confrontation.

“I’ve had enough of both of you. Neither of you are going anywhere until I talk to Kashara,” Porter said.

Dash stared at the open cargo bay of the Stardancer a dozen meters away. He said to Porter, “You really want to explain to her why you delayed me?”

“Have your crew prepare for departure. You and Bania can wait in Dock Control until I get this sorted,” Porter said. He opened a comm and glared at the opaque glass across the bay. “Boci, send a team up to the executive tower and then get out here with Galo. These haulers are causing trouble.”

“I’m trying to do my job. He’s causing trouble,” Dash said, pointing at Bania.

“Liar!” Bania said. His heavy breaths let out a slight whistle from the gap in his teeth.

Dash spotted another loading cart in the distance out of the corner of his eye. He waited a moment, then stepped around Bania. “This is ridiculous. I’m leaving.”

“No, you’re not!” Bania said, and clamped his thin, clawlike fingers around Dash’s wrist. Dash tried to pull away, but Bania held on with unexpected strength. They wrestled back and forth, grunting and swearing at each other like a couple of drunks outside a pub.

The hatch to Dock Control opened. Boci and Galo stepped out. Porter—still munching on his wrap—waved at them across the bay and yelled, “Come deal with this!”

The officers homed in on Dash and Bania, then approached at a brisk walk. They grimaced in sadistic amusement, clearly amped at the possibility of smashing heads.

Dash eyed the cart as it neared. He said to Bania, “You’re right, I admit it. I’m jealous of you.” Bania kept a tight grip on Dash’s forearm but listened intently to the captain’s words. “I’m jealous that I’m not a self-absorbed dolt who is blissfully ignorant of my own awfulness as a commercial freighter captain.”

Bania’s face flushed red in rage. “Fuck you, Anderton!” he said, and threw a looping punch.

Dash slipped it and pulled them into the path of the oncoming cart. Bania caught sight of the cart, let go of Dash, and covered his face with his hands. The cart slammed to a halt in front of them, caution lights flashing and blaring an automated warning from its onboard klaxon.

In the split-second of confusion, Dash shoved Bania. He didn’t hang around to watch the other captain bounce off the cart and tumble to the deck. Instead, Dash grabbed a small container off the cart and ran toward his ship. The security officers finally reacted and charged him. Dash wound up and tossed the container at the first of them. Boci successfully dodged the improvised projectile, but Galo did not. He stumbled and fell atop Boci as Dash skirted around them and then sprinted for the Stardancer.

His feet pounded over the worn deck. Opening a comm to Gaius, he shouted, “Time to leave! Shut the bay door now!”

Shouting erupted behind him, and motion flashed in his periphery. Darting between a scattering of carts and pallets, he wondered why the door had yet to begin its downward swing. He slipped around a container then hurdled a knee-high maintenance bot topped with a toolbox, hoping the security thugs wouldn’t shoot at him. It was too late to factor that risk into his decision, so he focused on running as fast as his out-of-shape legs could propel him.

He drew near the Stardancer and finally the door began to close. The opening shrank faster than he’d expected. The door was almost shut when a shot streaked by and burned a little hole in the bulkhead inside the ship’s bay. He threw himself at the ever-shrinking gap, sure he wouldn’t make it. He hit hard and slid along the deck, twisting himself with all his might to rotate his body inside to avoid being crushed.

The door shut with a heavy thud centimeters from his head. He lay there sucking wind, not wanting to move to keep alive the fantasy that he’d made it inside without a round ripping a hole through him.

A voice sounded in his ear, and he registered the open comm on his PD. “Cap, you okay?” Gaius said.

“I’m fine. I’ll be right up,” Dash said, and forced himself to a seated position. His body ached and throbbed, but no blood leaked out.

He stood, stumbling toward the hatch leading into the ship. There was no turning back now.

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