Freestar: Chapter I

Stars floated by in idyllic, simple harmony. They were constant; billions stretched on in utter blackness as far as the eye could see, always there, a guaranteed element in the changing universe. Each small light was constantly changing, expanding as it aged with the millenniums that passed it by, unknowing, before it eventually fades with age and then explodes, and new stars take its place. All this in the lifetimes of thousands of people.
         It was what Saren loved about space. Its eternity of mystery and beauty never ceased to captivate her; since she was a child she knew she must explore the enigma of space. Still, this wasn’t what she had in mind when she’d been dreaming of alien races and battles among the stars.
         No, it was all a lot less exciting than that, as Saren had soon found that out. She didn’t entertain any romantic notions now, sitting in the cockpit of an ancient freighter, the Eldon. Saren barely noticed the sooty grime that layered its outside anymore, nor did she mind the temperamental appliances, namely the shower. It was old habit if the hygiene station didn’t work, hit once, wait ten seconds, then hit it three times. The Eldon was full of loveable quirks.
         But it was home, and it had been for the last three years of her twenty-five year old life. Now it was on its way to the war torn Zorina galaxy, carrying some fifty odd crates of considerable size. Considering the civil wars that raged ceaselessly in Zorina, Saren was sure she knew what lay in the crates, waiting to wreck more havoc. Still, the crew of the Eldon was paid to carry goods and not ask questions, and that was what they did best… for a mighty sum.
         Saren snorted, propping booted feet up on the control pad and folding her arms.
         “Somethin’ wrong?” her copilot grunted sleepily. His name was Marn, and he’d been a part of the Eldon’s crew for longer than anybody else, including the most recent captain. His graying hair and tired face put him in the age range anywhere from late fifties to sixties, but he was still apt enough as a pilot. But saying that, pretty much anybody was apt enough to be a pilot these days, as he’d quickly put out in a gruff voice; rarely was there a need to manually fly ships nowadays. Autopilot was not only useful for long journeys and more reliable than a human, it was required in all ship models made within the last twenty-nine years.
         Saren shook her head with a wry smile. “No. Just pondering the enigma of space.”
         It was Marn’s turn to snort. “Ain’t an enigma anymore, not when yer my age.”
         Saren shrugged and tapped the screen nearest to her. Only two weeks left until they reached the outer boundaries of the Zorina galaxy, and three until they reached the drop point, at which they’d hand the crates over and receive the second half of the payment. All this assuming they didn’t get blown to bits by one of the three warring armies as soon as they crossed the border, considering the Eldon’s outdated weaponry and defense system.
         “I’m napping,” Saren announced, resettling herself in the seat and closing her eyes. Marn grunted a reply, and she soon found herself in the blissful realm of sleep.

         

A rough hand shook Saren, and she half opened sleepy green eyes before closing them again. “…sleeping,” she grumbled, trying to move away from the hand.
         “Get up!” It was Marn, and he sounded worried. That fully roused Saren within moments. Marn never sounded worried. “Now, girl!”
         Saren jumped out of the seat, blinking at the flashing red light on the entrance to the cockpit. “What’s going on?” she asked, already accessing the mainframe of the Eldon. No warnings or alerts presented themselves, and she frowned. The freighter was fine.
         “Pirates,” Marn croaked, wiping a hand across a sweaty forehead. “Ye know Eldon ain’t got good weapons or anythin’. And it ain’t just one of ‘em… there’s a fleet.”
         Cursing, Saren opened up the camera views. There, she saw them; no less than an assortment of twenty odd ships to their starboard side. “Shit. What about the crates?”
         Marn shrugged, already moving to the door. “It’s better to let the pirates at ‘em and have us still be breathin’ and little less rich.” The door opened and he left, expecting Saren to follow.
         She hesitated. Standard procedure called for her to wire a message to the nearest government vessel, asking for aid, but what with the crates not being entirely legal… No, she decided. They’d have to let the pirates get a hold of the shipment. There was no way around it.
         Cursing, she spun and jogged out of the room. In the short amount of time it had been since the alarms went off, the corridors were already deserted. She didn’t see a sole member of the thirty person crew anywhere. Most were probably already loading the escape pods; that’s where she headed at a run. There was no more than five minutes before the first of the pirates boarded.
         Once she arrived at the bay, she banged her fist on the clearance pass and scooted through when it opened. Only one figure remained, and he turned when he heard her entrance: the captain.
         “Took you bloody long enough. Did you wire a govie?” he inquired, referring to government aid, considering their condition.
         She shook her head and received an approving grunt from the captain as he punched numbers into the third to last escape pod. Clearly, the other crew members had already launched; she was lucky she got there when she did.
         “In,” the captain ordered, indicating the now open door of the pod. Saren obediently stepped in and seated herself, latching the safety harness over her chest as the captain entered, closing the hatch behind him.
         Saren wistfully looked at the Eldon, her home for three years. It would shortly be pirate meat, to do with as they pleased. She wouldn’t see it again.
         She jerked unpleasantly as the escape pod moved out of the bay, all groans and metallic screeches as it pushed itself from the ship. The launch from the Eldon would take two minutes in itself, according to the data in the mainframe of the freighter. Saren almost snorted. That was at least twenty some years ago when the Eldon was in its prime.
         The captain was studying her; she met his blue eyes with her green. He wasn’t much older than she, but other than that nobody of the crew knew too much about their captain, save for his appearance.
         Brown-blonde hair mixed sloppily on his head, touching the tips of his ears, and blue eyes watched all from a pale face. He’d only been with the Eldon a year, and he had never spoken a word about his past. He was only known by ‘Captain’. Still, he paid fairly and wasn’t intolerable, so the crew never complained.
         “You’re the pilot?” he inquired.
         Saren nodded. “One of them. Marn and I get night shift.” The captain nodded; he knew Marn.
         “Name?” he asked.
         “Saren.” Another nod, and then he ceased conversation. They were almost launched.