Excerpt: Burnside

Riker started, jerking awake and slamming his head against something hard and solid. His breathing was coming in panting gasps and he tried to move again, bringing his hands up to find metal walls on every side of him, all but pressing up against him, trapping him down. He didn’t know where he was, what was going on.

He remembered alarms and a cell – his wrists still felt raw from the cuffs, his fingers aching painfully from being forcibly curled into fists for so many hours. There had been Laxis – three of them – and a jerk. He’d been on a ship, a transport. Something went wrong.

What went wrong?

There had been someone else. Other people. A man? No. Woman. Someone he knew. She said something, he didn’t remember what; but she said something and then…

He pressed hard against the metal wall on top of him. It didn’t budge; but something chirped, low and barely audible, and he paused half a second, heart in his throat. He was trying to look everywhere at once, despite the fact that he was in a box, despite the fact that it was so dark he couldn’t even see the wall in front of him.

A second later a small button of light blinked in front of him. Soft and blue. Once, twice, and then there was a soft wave of static as a small screen, smaller than his hand, blinked to life and a reading came up.

“Aurora rescue 1045.g / Estimated oxygen supply -- 24 minutes / Damage warning”

Aurora rescue?

He didn’t – He couldn’t even –

Where was he? What happened? He’d been on the ship. He was sure of it. And now he closed his eyes, trying hard to remember. To make the jumble of what was racing through his mind, stand still for a moment, and figure out what the fuck just happened.

He’d been on a transporter. Galaxicorp. The first time he’d been off of Pluto in five years. The first time he’d been out of camp – not that he had any delusions about going to a better place.

God, fucking, Christ.

He was off of Pluto.

He was out of internment.

He was free.

He was free, and stuck in a metal box in the middle of space.

A shuddered, slamming his fists against the metal roof over him once again. If he could just get out of here. If he could get out, he’d be free. He’d go back to Vesta and hunt down Reyes. Join the rebellion again.

Fuck. He’d go eat a hundred burgers and gorge himself on candy.

Candy. Sugar.

He shuddered again, arms falling back to his sides, and he continued to shiver. It was freezing. Freezing out in the middle of space, floating around, God only knew where. He looked back up at the flickering LCD screen.

“Aurora rescue 1045.g / Estimated oxygen supply -- 17 minutes / Damage warning -- severe”

“Shit.”

The fucking clock was broken.

He was going to die, frozen or suffocated – a little of both – floating around in the middle of nowhere. He was all but fucking free. Out of one prison and into another.

“Shit!”

It wasn’t large enough to hurt himself, slamming his hands against the roof.

Out of one prison. Into another.

“Aurora rescue 1045.g / Estimated oxygen supply -- 10 minutes / Damage warning -- severe”

He was using too much air being angry. Not that ten minutes was going to get his very far. Because who was he kidding? Nobody was around. Galaxicorp’s fist had been tight on travel when he got picked up, and no doubt five years – fuck, they probably had all space traffic in the palm of their hand. It’d be a shock if anyone could go around without a license and a Laxi in the passenger’s seat.

He’d be better off dying in this metal box. Better off than being picked up by a Galaxicorp freighter and shipped back to Pluto for another five years. Sure as shit better than being on transport to an undisclosed Galaxicorp location.

But he wanted to live.

“Aurora rescue 1045.g /Estimated oxygen supply -- 7 minutes / Damage warning -- severe”

Eyes screwed shut against the dark, he let out a shaking breath. “I want to fucking live.” It was a whisper. Not much of any sort of declaration, more like he was telling a secret than anything else.

And maybe he was. Because he’d been trying to convince himself for so long now, that he didn’t care if a Laxi picked him off for fighting. That he wouldn’t give a shit if Creever finally gave in and shanked him in the back. That he was okay with peacefully walking onto a transport and getting shipped off.

Another punch into the metal above him.

“I want to live.”

Not like there was anyone around to hear it, anyway.

He opened his eyes and glared at the little screen, just inches away from his face, buzzing down at him, counting down with its broken clock. Broken – but he didn’t doubt that when it got to zero, it was going to be right.

“Aurora rescue 1045.g / Estimate oxygen supply -- 4 minutes critical / Damage warning -- severe”

“I want to fucking live.”

It was freezing. His fists shook violently against the metal roof and for a moment he thought he felt naked – which didn’t make any sense, not in the least.

“Aurora rescue 1045.g / Estimate oxygen supply -- 3 minutes critical / Damage warning -- severe”

“I want to get out of this shit hole.”

He sucked in another breath in spite of the crashing numbers in front of him.

“Aurora rescue 1045.g / Estimate oxygen supply -- 2 minutes critical / Damage warning -- severe”

“I want to have a beer.”

Another breath, bigger, and not getting as much for his efforts, and his body ached for him to do something about it, to put his arms down, to not stress. To get some air.

“Aurora rescue 1045.g / Estimate oxygen supply -- 1 minutes critical / Damage warning -- critical”

“I want to be free.”

“Aurora rescue 1045.g / Estimate oxygen supply – depleted / Damage warning -- severe”

There wasn’t anything left. His throat clenched shut, pressure in his lips as they turned blue, an ache in the back of his eyes as blood recycled through his veins, as his heart strained for air.

He glared up at the little readout that buzzed and flickered off, leaving him in darkness as his eyes rolled up.

There was a noise. Huge and loud. The screaming of a widowed woman, echoing in the background, breaking straight through his skull and into his brain. A noise that, in its very essence, demanded to be hear, demanded for him to be alive and awake to hear its pain. It failed.

The scream faded. Choked off by lack of oxygen. Cut off by the lure of unconsciousness and death. His eyes rolled up, and he saw a light.

A light at the end of the fucking tunnel.

Seriously?

Something jumpstarted. Jolting through his whole body, suddenly turning everything online, like flipping a fucking switch. An electrical pulse that slammed through his body, and he jerked awake, eyes flying open, body jolting forward, head nearly crashing into that of someone crouched over him.

Hands landed on his shoulders, pushing him back down as he blinked furiously, blinded by sudden light.

Light?

“Whoa there, cowboy.” He looked around, gaze finally landing on the face of a woman crouched over him, but not the one holding him down. Someone behind him, out of sight.

Sight.

He was alive?

He coughed, hard, taking in deep, hacking breaths as his body reminded itself what it was suppose to do to stay alive. As he grasped for more air. Took in as much as possible, as though he could make up for the time he’d gone without it. His eyes flickered past the woman to the others who stood around him. Rough faces, a few men, another woman. Freighters. Had to be. Nobody else was going to be out here.

“Hey.” The woman over him slapped him lightly on the cheek and his eyes snapped to her, brows narrowing in attention. “Where you from? Whose the chick?”

“Chick?” Because, honestly, he had no clue what she was talking about. That, and the last thing he wanted to talk about was where he was from.

Her eyes narrowed, brows furrowing in what was probably concern. “Yeah. The chick, in the pod with you.”

He tried to look around again, but he was still on his back, couldn’t see anything. Not the pod, no the woman they were talking about. “Chick?” His voice was rough, grating. Worn by a hard life and more so by recently asphyxiation. “The pod?”

“The pod, the rescue pod.” Impatience, that’s what was on her face, not concern. It was hard to tell. Too many years in a place that wore out your concern for other people because obsolete. Too many years in a prison that wore it all out of you.

“Pod?” He was looking past her again, into the group of three faces that stared back at him. None of them in uniform. Maybe they didn’t travel with a Laxi. Odd – most freighters had them when he’d left. He was so sure they’d all have them by now.

“Hey.” Another light slap. “Pay attention. Who are you?”

“Jess, lighten up. The guy almost died.”

“Is she dead?”

The woman looked back down at him, her expression still hard from the glare she’d been shooting to the man behind him, the man who’d since let go of Riker’s shoulders once he didn’t try to go anywhere again. “What?” Her voice was clipped, short, irritated. She was probably the captain. “Yes, she is. Who is she?”

He hadn’t even noticed. And thinking about it made a pressure form behind his temples. In a rescue pod laying on a dead woman. How he’d gotten in there in the first place – He didn’t know. He couldn’t understand it. What the fuck had happened?

“Hey. Come on.”

He blinked, jumping at the fingers snapping in front of his face; his hand shooting up and grabbing her wrist before he could think not to. She tensed in surprise, and he slowly let go.

“Jess, back off. Captain will talk to him later. Think you could give him a break?”

She, Jess, looked up again, to the man out of Riker’s vision. “Hey, I don’t want to get caught with some dead chick on board. You know how much paperwork that’ll be. Know what it’ll look like if we don’t know who she is?”

“Your Laxi’ll call her in.”

There was a moment’s hesitation, as the woman looked down at him, and the man behind him stopped talking. A tension in the air and a quirk in her eyebrows that told him he might have said the wrong thing. She looked confused. “Laxi?”

“Look at him, he’s hallucinating. Go tell Captain we got him. Izzard,” one of the men in the background looked past Riker to the speaker, “help me get him to the infirmary.”

As the man spoke, Riker let himself crane his head back enough to get a look at him. Rough beard, loose clothes wrinkled with wear – looked just like the rest of them, and it spelled out worker, that was for sure. Had to be a freight. Had to have a Laxi on board. But where the fuck the thing was…

The man looked down at him and grinned. A young face. Probably younger than him. “You okay to stand?”

He glanced over to his side. Empty. The woman was gone already. He looked back at the stranger moving to his side to help him up, and he nodded. “Yeah.”

Grasping Riker’s shoulder and forearm, the man all but hauled him off the ground. It was shocking how unsteady he was. How he shuddered and shivered, out of his control. How tired he was. How he sagged down like he was going to melt. “I’m Ace.” The man grinned widely. Friendly enough. No doubt he wouldn’t be so friendly when they got the news from Galaxicorp.

“Yeah.”

Steadied, he pulled his arm out of the other’s grasp, eyes flickering around the room. The others had left – he didn’t remember when. The pod was there, open and with a long since dead woman at the bottom. The previous occupant. She wore a uniform Riker didn’t recognize, and he wondered what it stood for. Wondered, and then tried to stop himself. All it did was remind him of where he’d been for the past five years.

Away.

Not attached to the real world. Not attached to anything but a freaking dead planet.

“You’re supposed to tell me your name.”

He tore his eyes away from the women, to Ace, who hovered uncomfortably close, and the other man, standing off to the side. Backup? Did they already suspect? A Laxi? He’d never seen one not in uniform before. But that didn’t mean Galaxicorp hadn’t finally wised up and put them undercover.

Fuck.

“You alright?”

He looked back at Ace and nodded. “Fine. Just…”

What had she been trying to say? In the transporter. It was still a jumble – just a bunch of flashes. It only made sense because of the red lights. Red lights from emergency alarms. The Laxis had walked out. Walked out of the room without looking back, and he’d been left alone in his cell.

Not alone, because there’d been someone else.

Multiple people? He never remembered transporters just coming for a few, but he couldn’t remember who he’d walked up with. Couldn’t remember if there had been any familiar faces when he got taken out and boarded.

The voice though. He thought it was familiar, but couldn’t tell. Couldn’t tell what she said, but he had the burning feeling it was something important. Something vital.

“Hey, you alright?”

Riker blinked, nodded again. “Yeah. Fine.”

“You remember your name?”

He didn’t want to say. Didn’t want to say yes, because the news was probably already out. Didn’t want to say no, because then he’d face the Laxi. On his own. No questions asked.

Ace smiled, patted him on the shoulder. “Hey, that’s fine. No problem.” He pulled him, softly, unthreateningly, directing him where to go, to walk with him. To the infirmary.

Freighters usually had small port vessels. Short distance, to drop down on a planet and pick up an order. It was faster and a shit load easier than landing the whole ship. And it was just the kind of thing that had Riker’s name on it, because short distance didn’t mean it couldn’t last to the nearest way station. It just meant it wasn’t really built for it.

“We’ll get the doc to take a look at you. She can try to look you up in the database, see if anyone’s reported you missing. That Aurora – it’s used on freighters, you’ll probably be on file somewhere.”

There was a lot rattling around up there, but not enough to distract him from that. Not enough to not pick up some very huge, gaping gaps. He stopped, staring at the other man, incredulous. “Doctor?”

Ace stopped with him, brows raised in surprise. Maybe a little bit of humor. “Yeah. The doctor. You know, at the infirmary.”

“Database?” He looked back the way they’d come from. “Aurora…” In a freighter database. Not the database, but…

“The freighter company employee database. Not that many boats go down now a day. From how much time you must’a spent in there and sorting out the ones that did in that frame…, we should be able to find what crew you were with.” He was still grinning. Almost unnerving. People didn’t smile that much. Galaxicorp didn’t give people that much to smile about. “No problem. Really easy.”

“You don’t have a Laxi?”

The man’s smile faltered, face twitching in confusion. “…Laxi?” Like he couldn’t ignore it, now that Riker had said it twice.

He was shaking. Didn’t know when it started. “Where… Where am I?” Because something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right on a ship with a crew member that looked that confused by the mention of a Laxi. Something wasn’t right when people smiled so much. Wasn’t right when a doctor had to run a scan for freighters to look for a person.

Galaxicorp had a better grip on the solar system than that.

Or… at least… they had.

“Just out of the Kulper Belt, heading to Neptune.”

It was like being hit by a truck. His breath hitched as though he’d been dropped into ice water. And something almost electrical ran over his skin. “…Kulper Belt?”

“Yeah…?”

The breath came out, long and shaking. His eyes stung and he clenched his jaw, tilting his head to the ground and tightening his hands into fists at his side, trying to get himself under control. Trying to not break down.

Because it wasn’t the Kulper Belt.

“What…” He paused, swallowing hard before looking up again, staring Ace straight on, leveling him with a heavy look that made the man take half a step back. “What’s the date?”

It was called Burnside.

“June 23rd.”

She’d been shouting something at him. Telling him what was going on – and he couldn’t remember, because he’d barely been able to hear her over the roar of the ship breaking apart around them. The roar of alarms and twisting metal.

“The year.” It came out as almost a snarl, and he had to fight back from grabbing the man, shaking him until he saw stars.

The ship had jerked, sharply off path. He hit his head. Slammed it into a wall. And then there had been gravity. And she’d shouted.

“2342.”

The ship jerked, hard, unnaturally. It sent him crashing into a wall, jerked back by his cuffed hands that were latched down to the floor – but it didn’t stop his head from cracking against his cell wall. “Fuck.” Stars danced in his vision and he tried to push himself back up, already feeling blood running down the side of his face from his temple, thick and warm.

It was hard to move. And at first, he thought it was because of his head. That he hit it harder than he’d thought.

“Mother fucker!”

There’d been only one other person brought into this deck with him. Doubt it, a few dozen more had boarded as well, but they were grouped by destination, and only two of them were going to wherever the inhabitants of deck 85-UC went. Him and –

“Ekart! What the shit is happening?” He was pressed hard against the cell wall, couldn’t push away from it if he tried. There was a gravity force out there. A big one. And either something had fucked up with the transporter and they were being pulled into a planet or-

“Those fucking bastards! They ran us into a fucking black hole!”