Space Race

The Legend of the White Lion

Chapter 5: Secret Cargo

Joanna sat awake, watching the lights wax and wane along the walls of the ship as the screens shifted from view to view. They had eaten, exchanged another argument, and started a sleep shift after Elliot had slowed the ship. It was her turn to stay awake, and she was not at all bothered by that. Her nerves were shot. She had been a racer just about all of her life, but those had only ever lasted up to an hour at most. This was a two-week long race, by the estimation, and she was having trouble filling the time.

Her body was tense because she knew they had slowed down. Obviously, they could not sit at break-neck speed for a solid week, but her instincts certainly wanted them to. At first, she had watched the radar, but seeing where the other ships sat did nothing to soothe her tension. She had gone over the map time and time again, memorizing where they would once again wake and pick up speed. There were still several hours left before that could happen.

Joanna focused on the radar, and she grimaced. Two ships had gone well beyond their point, and were still racing on ahead. Deep down, she knew that they would need to stop as well. They were marked as Orion's Sword and Alpha Rift; both huge ships with longer forward thrust and no doubt larger fuel canisters. Regardless, they could not run full-speed ahead for much longer. She could only hope that they did not put so much distance between them that they slipped off of the radar. Of course, her brothers were on one of those ships, and that was exactly what they would do.

Without the ability to do much more than watch, she found that the walls began to close in.

"Take a walk," she whispered to herself, remembering one of her father's lessons.

Standing, Joanna did just that. She began a short tour of the small ship, walking back towards Faine's control room. She peeked in to see that he was still strapped into the harness chair, as quiet asleep as he was when he was awake. Moving away from both the control room and the main cockpit, she entered the tiny hall that held two doors and a floor hatch. One room was the large bathroom, and the other was used for food storage and preparation. The floor hatch would take her down into the base of the ship, where the 'guts' (as her mother so affectionately called them) were held; backup landing gear, fuel canisters, boosters, wiring, and extra room for storage.

"Well, I might as well run a check," she whispered to herself, kneeling to pull up the hatch and lock it into place. There was a way to open it from the under-side, but Joanna did not like being shut into small spaces.

As she descended the ladder steps, she felt around for the switch, and flicked on the lights. Her eyes took a moment to adjust from the darkness to the strange bluish glow that the low-energy lights gave off. She had not been down to the room since before they had taken off, and after spending nearly a full twenty four hours in the cockpit, even the 'gut-room' seemed cavernous. There were hard-boxes on either side of a thin path, which led down to the back end of the ship. There was a thrice-locked and sealed cargo door that aided in loading and unloading the ship. Flanking that were two huge, arcing metal shields that covered bare engine parts (which were the namesake of the room's nickname).

Joanna ran her hands over the hard-boxes as she passed them, and carefully laid a hand on one of the engine shields. They were cool to the touch, as she had hoped they would be, with barely a vibration as the ship crawled on. Only when powered up to full speed would they give the slightest shudder.

She turned in place and eyed the walls, where a set of two smaller shields sat on either side. Those would lead out to the thrusters, which rotated based on their need.

Everything looked fine, and as she moved back towards the ladder, she tried to memorize the set of their stock. If it began to deplete at a rate that was too fast, she would need to ration things more carefully.

A particular box caught her eye on the way back. It had a soft glow of it's own, with small tubes running both in and out of it. She had missed it on her way down, because it was nestled snugly between two larger hard-boxes. Curiosity won her over easily, and she slid herself back behind the cargo to get a better look.

The box was long, and as she focused, seemed to be lit on the inside. It almost looked as though water droplets had formed. At once, Joanna realized what she was looking at, and anger flooded her system within seconds. She shifted, all but jumped out from behind the boxes and made her way two-steps at a time up the ladder. Not bothering to close the hatch, she moved around it, storming back into the cockpit and standing over Xeno's sleeping form.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she shouted, giving him exactly five seconds to stir and begin to wake.

"So many answers..." he grumbled, rubbing at his eyes and sitting up groggily.

"You brought plant-life from Earth on this ship," she said carefully.

Xeno's eyes brightened more, and a lazy smile slid across his lips. "Ah, found that, didja?"

"Yes!" she gasped. "Do you know how illegal that is?"

He gave her a look that was meant to say he did, and she rolled her eyes. The man was tattooed and scarred with marks that told the world he was well versed in breaking laws. Xeno stretched, holding up a finger as he stood and moved toward the hatch. When she turned to follow, Faine was standing in his doorway, and she waved him off with a gesture.

"I know how illegal it is," Xeno continued, turning back to offer her one of his crooked smiles. "But you don't. The captain of the ship is unaware of exactly what laws she is breaking, eh?"

Joanna set her jaw and visibly tried to cool her temper. "Xeno, I swear-"

"Listen, just...listen," he said, his voice an octave lower. "You know it's illegal, but you don't know why. I'm just sayin'... if we were caught, you'd be the one questioned," he stopped and stood in the hall way, pointing down the open hatch. "You've no idea where that came from or how it got on your ship, right?"

She pursed her lips and gave him a blatant stare.

"Technically!" he hissed.

"Technically, no," she admitted, still glaring.

"And I ain't gonna tell ya, so we're fine," he finished, lifting his foot to kick the hatch closed.

"Why is it here?" she asked, folding her arms and doing her best to douse her temper.

"I told ya, you don't need to kn-"

"No, I don't need to know how it got here, I do need to know why!" she interrupted him, following as he moved back out into the cockpit room. "We're in a race, Xeno. This isn't one of your pirate-runs."

He chuckled, taking lazy seat in one of the secondary pilot chairs and shaking his head.

"Pirate runs, I like that," he mused. When Joanna loomed over his chair, waiting, he finally sighed and turned toward her. "We fuel-up just before my turn. I ain't taking us all the way out to Perinshon with the rest of 'em."

Joanna nodded, remembering that Xeno's would be one of the more dangerous sections of the race. His plan was to skip the designated fueling area and stop at a spot that was closer to the race line. It was another 'technically' illegal move, but they would be far off the charts by then.

"Planet we'll be stopping on's not exactly a friendly place. They take trades, and Earth plants are worth a fortune. Fuel'll be an easy pull. Might even be able to grab a few more prizes along with it."

He was so well-traveled that he had practically memorized the layouts of every star system within reach. Joanna seethed inwardly, but finally nodded. Her father trusted this man, and so should she.

"You'd better know what you're doing," she finally conceded, slumping into the seat next to him.

Xeno chuckled again, and lifted his leg to kick the large main-pilot's chair. "Kid sleeps through everything," he mumbled.

Joanna looked up and realized that he was right. Elliot had not moved an inch since she had left on her check. He had apparently slept through their yelling, the slamming hatch door, and now Xeno's kick to the back of his chair. Sara, on the other hand, popped her head up and peered over the back of the chair at them before dropping below it again.

"Speaking of which," Joanna mumbled, tapping her wrist in an age-old gesture. "Your turn for watch."

When he waved her off, she stood and lay back on the bench by the radar panel. She made her self as comfortable as she possibly could, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. Sleep evaded her mind, which was still running with a myriad of thoughts that had both nothing and everything to do with the race. Ten minutes later, she sat straight up on the bunk, nearly hitting her head before whispering harshly to Xeno.

"How did you get that box past the cargo check?"

For once, Xeno had no quirky response. Instead, he just grinned at her and shrugged with feigned innocence. Joanna realized that Xeno was turning out to be less her uncle, and more an annoying distant cousin with every passing hour. She sincerely hoped that she would not run out of patience and kill him before the end of the race. After all, he was her father's friend.

"We're off radar," Devin said bending over his portable computer and flipping through various screens.

"So Jo can't see us anymore?" Joseph asked, turning in his seat and peering back at his brother.

Devin rolled his eyes, pulled up another screen and checked. "I was talking about the main radar. But no, Jo can't see us either."

Joseph grinned and turned around again, typing in a command that brought up a different radar screen in the upper left-hand corner of his wide view of the space ahead.

"Why do you think they're hanging back?" he asked, putting his feet up on the control board and watching the blackness in front of them.

"Who knows," Devin bit back. "And honestly, who cares, Joey? We've got a ship riding our wake to worry about. Jo's on her first race. She'll be making all of the mistakes beginners make."

"Yeah, but Uncle Connor isn't a beginner," Joseph responded, his voice less jovial.

"Its Xeno now, remember?" Devin said in a sarcastic fashion. "And he's not driving first."

"Then we should pull our tricks now, while Jo's in the front seat!"

"The kid is in the front seat right now," Devin corrected, looking up from his work. "And our tricks need to be saved for the bastard who's riding our tail."

"Listen to your brother, he is the oldest," Mitchell's voice had them both turning toward the back of the room.

The man looked fresh and clean, and Devin eyed the time before focusing on him again. "You finished your sleep-shift early?"

Mitchell had insisted on taking his rest first that day, and locked himself away in the lower room once the ship was on course. By Devin's watch, there were still several hours left before it was his turn. He watched as the obviously freshly bathed man walked directly up to the control panel, not bothering to worry about Joseph's personal space as he all but took the controls himself.

"Right. Pull up second gear, fire the back-thrusters and open the side-bays on my mark," Mitchell ordered, looking up and out at the expanse of space before them and then moving to block Devin's view of the radar.

"Wait, what?" Joseph asked, not doing as he had been blatantly ordered, but turning his seat back to face Mitchell. "That'll stop us!"

"What's in the side-bays?" Devin asked, watching Mitchell's pacing actions with a hint of worry.

"None of your concern. Just do it Joey," Mitchell ordered, even going so far as to point at the control panel. When Joseph sent a look to his brother, the older man all but had a fit. "Don't look at him! I'm the captain here, and I've issued and order! Second gear, back-thrusters, and side-bays. Now."

Devin watched as his brother's face paled and he turned in his chair to begin following the orders. He gripped his chair as the ship ground to a near-halting stop, and the walls themselves seemed to protest the move.

"It's Joseph's turn at the wheel, Mitchell," Devin said softly, unable to hold back his thoughts.

Still standing, (but gripping his own seat as the ship lurched backward), Mitchell turned a crazed look on him.

"Do you think running one or two races gives you the right to question me?" he asked, the whites of his eyes showing. "I don't care who's at the wheel. You do as I say, or I'll lock you both in the cargo bay and run the damned race myself. Do you understand?"

A wash of anger boiled through Devin. His own father had never talked to him like that, and he would be damned if he let this arrogant jerk do so. However, before he could protest, the entire ship jolted, and a deep grating sound forced him to cover his ears. Part of him panicked, sure that they had been breached, but Mitchell simply grinned and pointed to the control board, barking another order at Joseph.

Devin watched in a disjointed fascination as the ship that had been following them came into dangerously close view in the pilot's front panel. It did not take long for him to realize that the other ship, the Alpha Rift, had struck them. A moment later, he realized that the crash had been Mitchell's plan all along. Joseph looked just as stunned, even as the captain yelled over the auto-alarm that had sounded when the other ship hit.

"Side-bays, Joseph! Now!"

"You did that on purpose?" Devin heard himself yell, standing now that he thought it was safe to. He absently entered the code to halt the alarm, noting that it was nothing other than the ship's announcing that they had been hit.

"Yes, you idiot. What did you think I was going to do, let them coast along our wake for the rest of the race?" Mitchell answered, his eyes set in a dangerous glare before he turned back toward the front. "Joseph, pull the side bay doors or I will. Hear me?"

With one last glance at his brother, Joseph did as he was told, and all three sets of eyes watched the listing Alpha Rift as it tried to gain its course ahead of them. The hit had only slowed them slightly, but it had turned them at an angle that was not congruent with the race-line. Their thrusters were spinning every which way as they did their best to balance out.

"Right, shut down all skimmers! Power down full if you have to," Mitchell ordered.

Devin and Joseph both made aghast responses, but it was the mechanic who was in charge of such things. They found themselves in almost total darkness. The backup lights were an odd orange shade, which lit the room enough for Devin to watch Mitchell's next move. The captain had a smaller control, and was looking between it and the space ahead.

"There's my girls," Mitchell whispered.

Devin followed his gaze to see what looked like two robotic capsules coming out in front of the ship.

"What-" Joseph began, but stopped himself as both capsules lit for a brief moment.

The ship's lights flickered, and Mitchell eyed the control panel, and the other screens in the room before lifting his brows and grinning. Somehow, the handsome look was more unsettling than usual.

"Good. Fire us up and put the thrusters below us. I want to get out of their sight," Mitchell ordered.

"Mind explaining why?" Devin asked, bitterness not hidden in his tone.

Mitchell sat down and strapped himself in as he spoke, the little device disappearing back into his pocket.

"That was a pulse. It will disable their radar for long enough so that we can get out ahead of them," he answered with a know-it-all lift of his hand. "I don't want them to see which way we go."

"You knocked their radar off while they're spinning like that?" Devin asked, his voice jolting as the ship came to life once more. "It'll take them hours to get back on course again."

"Of course! The longer it takes, the more of a gain we make."

Devin eyed the screen nearest him, watching the ship rotate on a spiraling axis. Being in space without radar was dangerous, especially if you did not have a specific path to follow. There was nowhere one could not go; endlessly downward or upward, forward or backward. Mitchell's actions had just potentially endangered that entire crew. Opponent or not, that was just not something one did!

Joseph was following orders like a trained monkey. Yes, the captain was in charge, but it was in his experience that the captain only stepped in when it was absolutely necessary. Any and all of his own personal tricks could be saved for his turn at the helm. And the tricks...

"That was over-doing it, Mitchell," Devin finally said, unable to hold back his thoughts as they got themselves back on course and up to speed.

Mitchell stood again once they were on a smooth line, giving Devin a look that made him feel as though he were nothing but a speck on the floor.

"Over-doing it?" he hissed, stopping to loom over Devin. "Son, you've been in one race, and your ship didn't even make it in on the same day as the winners. We'll stay at the front and take out any that try to get ahead of us. This is how a race is won," he said, smirking and speaking over his shoulder so that Joseph could hear. "Take notes."

"Straight course, Mitch," Joseph announced, using a nickname in what Devin guessed was a veiled slight. Mitchell ignored it.

"Fine, then. Perfect. I'll finish off my rest cycle, if you boys can take it from here," he answered as he walked the length of the control room.

"I'm not your damned son," Devin grumbled as the older man left the room.

"He's out of his mind," Joseph whispered, and the brothers exchanged a meaningful gaze. "Dad won plenty of races, and he never taught us something like that."

"He might be a winning racer, but he's a jerk" Devin finally answered.

"Bout time you figured that out!" Joseph bit back, turning back to face forward in his seat. "Lets just hope that was the worst of his tricks."

Something told Devin that the trick would not be Mitchell's last, nor would it be his worst. It was most likely that whatever ship came up on their tail next would be the first to find out.

Things settled into a fairly well-known cycle over the next few days. They were technically responsible for their own meals, but at her father's suggestion, Joanna had set up a schedule. She took it upon herself to make sure that every one of the crew had enough sleep, and three square meals within a full day's span by the ship's watch. After watching them spend the first handful of meals eating horribly, she took it upon herself to put together a plate for all of them on the third day.

"Faine, I've got food for you," she announced, knocking on the side of the doorway before moving into his large tech room.

Faine was reaching up above his head, working with a screen that Joanna was sure she would need a chair to reach herself. When he saw her come in, he offered a short smile and took the plate gratefully.

"You can come out when they don't have you busy, you know," she said, looking a round the room and wondering how often he felt closed in. The pilot's panel was one thing, but every wall in the space had controls, buttons, levers, screens, blinking lights, and so on. She knew the basics, but only Faine could play them like a piano.

"I like it in here," he replied, sitting in his chair and immediately tucking into his food.

Joanna had not expected a response, and was surprised to see him lift the thick goggles he usually wore away from his eyes as he ate. She had worried that he would not be comfortable on the ship, but it looked and sounded as though he was fitting in just fine. It was a comforting thought as she looked out and upward again, words suddenly coming to mind.

"The heart of the ship," she whispered with a smirk.

Faine looked up from his plate, his hazel eyes surrounded with an indented ring from his goggles.

"Dad used to call it the heart of the ship. Nothing works unless this room is properly manned. Mechanics didn't get an equal share when the races first started, but once the racers realized exactly how much work they did, they petitioned the organization to bring the entry cap to four," she explained, her eyes finally settling on Faine as she realized she was babbling. "You're doing great."

"Xeno doesn't think so," he answered, using more tone than she had ever heard from him.

A short laugh covered her surprise as she turned in place to peer out the doorway. "Xeno," she said softly, turning back to face him. "Is an example of what happens when someone is raised by wolves," she grinned. "He's not calling you boy-scout anymore, so that's pretty much his way of saying you're doing a good job."

Faine offered her a short smile and a nod, still eating in between listening and speaking. Either her food was good, or he hadn't been eating well enough. She was about to comment on her thought when Xeno's voice rang out over the ship's intercom.

"Captain Joanna, you're needed up front!"

The message would have sounded perfectly mannerly if it hadn't been said in an annoyed, gravelly tone. Joanna rolled her eyes and leaned out the doorway.

"I'm right here, you could have just yelled!" she said.

"How am I s'posed to know where you are?" Xeno answered in a yell. "I ain't a damned psychic!"

"It's a small ship, Xeno," she bit back.

"With an intercom," he said specifically. 'C'mon, kid says it's time to burn some fuel."

"Lazy ass," she grumbled, turning to offer Faine a wave. "Guess it's time to work."

"Thank you," he said, offering her the (now clean) plate.

Joanna swallowed another surprised thought as she left the room, glaring as she saw Xeno's amused face. She cleaned up everyone's meal-plates and sat down to strap herself in.

"Last chance to impress us, kiddo," Xeno grinned, lightly kicking at the back of the pilot's chair.

Joanna looked over her screens, seeing that they had reached the final run before the first re-fueling. Xeno had suggested two stops, each at the end of a pilot's turn. If this was Elliott's last run, then Xeno's turn was not far off. That thought was not exactly sobering.

"This will be our last hot-burn before the re-fueling," Elliott announced. "I'm hoping to find the leading ship on radar before we pull off of the grid."

They had been switching between high-speed and basic drifting for the past few days, keeping the ship at a fairly even pace. In the past day, they had watched several ships that were still behind them. One was closing in fast, and she nodded once as Sara reached up and began firing up the ship's burners.

"Lets go," Joanna said simply.

"Mister Faine, if you'll pull the gauges?" Elliott ordered, his hands working in smooth tandem as she felt the ship picking up speed. He clucked his tongue and Sara obediently dropped into his lap, strapping herself in with more precision than Xeno.

"Are we all locked in?" Elliott asked.

"Sure sure, let's git! We've got a bird on our tail!" Xeno answered with his signature impatience.

Faine had pulled the gauges, according to the lights on Elliott's side-screen. The younger pilot took that as the final answer, and Joanna felt the ship's sudden push as they jumped into a higher speed. Xeno's excited yell made her smirk, despite herself.

For the first time since the start, it finally felt like they were racing.