Fannec Records - Book 1: Outlaw - Chapter 7

Robert knelt beside the ship’s damaged fuel cells, his fingers coated in a viscous, foul-smelling sludge. The stench was unbearable, but it was nothing compared to the sinking sensation of dread that clung to him like a film on his skin.

“Mr. Fannec, it appears you’ve found the problem.” Robert, exhausted and irritable, hid a scowl at Ace’s voice.

He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and smeared grease across his forehead. “Let me guess, I should replace those fuel cells, right? Stop wasting time; we don’t have a lot of it. What do I need to fix so we can leave?”

“Indeed.” Ace was unbothered by either sarcasm or direct hostility. “The ship’s reserves should be enough for now.”

Robert grumbled, struggling to remove the mangled fuel cell. “Why don’t you tell me how to defuse a bomb next? Or maybe I can learn brain surgery while I’m at it.”

“Would you like us to look up some tutorials on the console here?” Ace inquired without missing a beat.

“Ya know what, Skippy!” Robert set the cell down carefully and without a sound. Wouldn’t want to make more noise. It rolled along the ship’s floor, leaving a trail of toxic gunk in its wake. “No, thanks. I think I’ll stick to my current career as an amateur mechanic and hide-and-seek professional.”

“Very well,” Ace ignored the nickname. “You’ll find the replacement fuel cells in compartment B7.”

As he retrieved the new fuel cells, trying with every step to be as silent as possible, he speculated about the absurdity of his situation. Here he was, a simple man with no experience in space travel or spacecraft repair, attempting to fix a ship that was older than him. And he was taking orders from an AI who delighted in addressing him as “Mr. Fannec” despite his protests, and had a weird third-person thing going on.

“Alright, Ace,” Robert said, returning to the damaged area with the replacements. “Let’s get this done and start the show.”

“Connect the new cells to the ship’s main power conduit,” Ace’s orb floated closer to offer guidance.

“Right,” Robert said, trying to suppress a shudder at the thought of touching the disgusting sludge again. “Because playing with fuel cells is never a bad idea.”

“Think of it as an exciting adventure.”

With caution, Robert secured the new fuel cells and connected the wires while grumbling.

The ship’s systems came to life with the cells in place like a hibernating beast emerging from its den after a long winter. The consoles flickered on, and a cacophony of beeps and whirs filled the cockpit as the outdated software began its tedious update process.

“Wow, this is like watching paint dry,” Robert tapped his foot impatiently. Ace had informed him that the guidance system needed to be updated for the ship to take off, which made sense to Robert, so he didn’t push too hard on skipping right to the takeoff.

“Patience,” Ace chided, his tone gentle but firm. “The ship has been dormant for a quarter-century. It’s to be expected that there would be some… delays.”

“I’ve always wanted to experience the thrilling world of IT support. Any way we can speed this up?”

“No.”

“Well… okay then. Wait, all this thing needed was some new fuel cells?”

“Yes, the mining facility left the ship, all these ships in this yard, in pretty decent shape. I’ve been aboard to deter pests while maintaining the ship to the best of my admittedly limited ability. One thing I cannot do, however, is lift things such as those large fuel cells. Everything else was simple component repair or replacement, which this ship had plenty of. You can’t stop fuel cell damage while they are plugged in.”

“So, the wires, the fuel cells, and some updates for navigation?”

“That is correct.”

As they waited for the updates to complete, Ace took the opportunity to fill Robert in on their destination: the abandoned mining facility.

“The asteroid-based facility boasted an impressive array of automated mining and refinement machines,” Ace’s voice was calm despite the tension in the air. “However, after a series of catastrophic accidents and dwindling profits, the decision was made to abandon it.”

“Let me guess,” Robert raised an eyebrow. “It’s now haunted by the ghosts of angry miners, waiting to exact their revenge on any unsuspecting trespassers? Oh! Or is there a rare species of vampiric beetles that eat the brains of living beings?”

“We have no reason to believe the facility is anything but empty. Although, I must admit, my disconnection from local networks does limit our information.”

Robert leaned back in the pilot’s seat. “Nothing like a little uncertainty to spice up an already dangerous trip.”

“Indeed.” The sphere was hovering beside him, serene and observant. “But we will be prepared for any obstacles that may arise.”

Sarcasm dripped from Robert’s words like an overfilled cup of coffee. “Because nothing screams ‘prepared’ quite like a rusty old ship and an AI without network access. And by ‘we’, you mean ‘us’ and not ‘you,’ right? What’s that about?”

“An adventure is not defined by the tools at one’s disposal, but by the spirit and determination of those who face it.” Ace intoned with an air of sageness, as if that answered any of Robert’s questions or objections.

The human stared at the floating, almost-sentient ball as the console flickered to life, a cascade of information and warnings flooding the screen. His fingers danced over the controls, eyes darting between the various readouts as Ace dismissed a series of what the AI said were trivial alarms.

Robert did not comprehend what he was looking at. Still, it made him feel better to be doing something instead of waiting for a system to update. The SLPS had most likely surrounded the place and were working their way through each ship, which would take a decent amount of time given the size of the yard and the vessels that inhabit it. But that didn’t mean time was on his side.

“Ah, yes.” Ace had a hint of amusement in his synthetic voice. “I understand the ship has detected the presence of space. How concerning.”

“Very funny,” Robert deadpanned.

“Apologies, Mr. Fannec. We wished to lighten the mood.”

“Maybe you could lighten the mood by actually helping me instead of cracking jokes.” Robert’s knuckles were white as he gripped the controls.

“Of course,” Ace conceded, guiding Robert through starting the ship’s engines. “I can give you the same advice I used to give to other intergalactic travelers to keep from panicking: Don’t panic.”

“Thanks, that’s super helpful.” Gritting his teeth, he took a deep breath and started the ignition sequence.

The hum of the engines fills the cockpit, vibrations reverberating through the floor beneath his feet. The sudden noise attracts the attention of the Sub-Lunar Protective Service, setting off alarms that echo throughout the yard.

“Unidentified craft, this is Commander Marcus Kane of the SLPS,” a booming, abrupt voice came through the ship’s speakers. “Power down your engines immediately and prepare to be boarded.”

“Magnificent.” Robert’s hands were so unsteady on the controls that he could barely make them stay in place. Exhaustion was setting in, and his head felt foggy from hours of running and stress. He struggled to concentrate on anything at this point.

“Stay calm, focus on our escape,” Ace advised, his voice steady despite the looming threat.

Robert’s hands were clammy as he adjusted the ship’s systems, his movements frantic. “You don’t have a heart that feels like it’s about to explode out of your chest.”

“Fair enough.”

Robert took another deep breath as he braced himself for what came next. “I’m pretty sure Commander Musclehead will turn us into dust if we don’t leave soon.” Robert’s voice was tense as he grips the controls tighter.

“I recommend engaging the thrusters at full power and executing a vertical take off. Nothing is above us, and this ship is designed for such maneuvers.”

“Can you point those things out for me? I have no idea how to do anything you said.”

“Press the third button from the right on your left screen; it should say ‘Vert Thrust,’ then use the sliding bar on your right. The faster you move that bar, the faster the ship will increase speed.”

“Here goes nothing.” Robert pushed the throttle forward with all his might. The ship lurched upward, the force pressing him down and back into his seat.

“Unidentified craft, I repeat, power down your engines!” Commander Kane’s commanding voice came through the speakers, his voice a hair above audible over the roar of the thrusters.

“Thanks, but no thanks, Commander,” Robert retorted.

As they ascended, the ship experienced a violent shudder, throwing Robert off balance. “Ace, what’s going on?!”

“Mr. Fannec, you’ve engaged the thrusters with too much enthusiasm.” The calmness in the orb’s voice contrasted with the chaos surrounding them. “The ship is struggling to maintain stability.”

Robert grumbled to himself, wrestling with the controls as he attempted to steady their ascent. In his haste, however, he failed to notice the group of SLPS personnel on the ground below, scrambling to clear the area.

“Mr. Fannec, watch out!”

Too late. The ship’s exhaust plume engulfed the unfortunate individuals, their screams lost amidst the cacophony of noise. Horrified, Robert bore a hole with his eyes into a screen as their charred forms collapsed to the ground, their lives snuffed out in an instant.

“Damn it! Shit!” the weight of his unintended actions settled upon his shoulders like a leaden blanket. “I didn’t mean… I never wanted to hurt anyone.”

“Mr. Fannec, you must focus on our escape. There will be time for reflection later. They were already after you, and they will still be after you. Focus on the task at hand, regret failures later.”

Robert looked away from the destruction, feeling bitter and washed in waves of self-loathing. “You don’t have blood on your hands.”

“That’s true, but we need to escape, and we can’t do that if we let guilt consume us.”

“Fine,” Robert swallowed hard. “Let’s get the hell out of here before that Commander brings the full force of the SLPS down on our heads right now.”

Knowing he can’t pilot better than the autopilot or Ace, Robert stopped attempting to do anything with the controls as they exited the moon’s atmosphere. Their destination was the asteroid belt closer to the star of the system.

The image of the agents burning seared into Robert’s mind. He felt bile rising in his throat as the total weight of what he’d done hit him. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” The thought gripped him with shock and dread. “I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt.” The guilt was an almost physical pain in his chest, a wave of agony washing over him.

The shadowy faces of the burned agents haunted Robert’s thoughts. Could he trust himself to avoid another tragedy? The guilt churned in his gut.

He had been traveling for hours, and his eyes felt heavy from the exhaustion. His right leg throbbed with pain from the recent injury sustained during his escape.

Rocks and debris of varying sizes were hurdled past at breakneck speeds as the ship lurched into the asteroid belt. The sight is mesmerizing and terrifying, a storm of celestial violence.

“Ah, yes,” Robert quipped, “what I needed today: an obstacle course on steroids.”

“Indeed,” Ace chimed in, his voice steady despite the chaos. “But let us focus on the task at hand. We’ll adjust the trajectory by three degrees to the right and increase thrust by 20%. That should carry us through the initial cluster.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.” Sweat beading on his brow, he watched the behemoth rocks fly past. He marveled at the AI’s calm under pressure, even as his stomach churned with anxiety.

The asteroids became more menacing as they navigated deeper into the asteroid belt. A massive rock loomed ahead, its jagged surface illuminated by the sun’s faint glimmer.

“Uh, Ace?” Robert said, his voice wavering with apprehension. “I don’t suppose you have any brilliant ideas on how to dodge that monstrosity?”

“Of course. We’ll reduce speed by half, then bank left. Trust us; we have calculated the optimal maneuver.”

“Calculated, huh? Well, here’s hoping your math is better than mine.”

As they plowed through the dark void of space, Robert was astonished as Ace executed the maneuver with unerring confidence. He was reminded of all the times he thought AIs were mere computers, but there was something different about Ace. Even a computer wouldn’t have this level of assurance, yet here he was, and it seemed like Ace had done this before. Whatever it was about the AI, one thing was sure: Ace wasn’t precisely ‘a program.’

The primary display on the spacecraft dashboard lit up with a flurry of information. Robert watched in awe as Ace maneuvered them through the asteroid belt, coordinates and graphs lighting up before him. He thought of the burned agents, guilt weighing on his shoulders.

The display showed the system they were in and the planet Mool orbited. Robert had never seen it from such an angle. Seeing the whole system displayed in such a manner made Robert feel insignificant.

“Nice work, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t starting to miss the old days of boring lunar traffic.”

“Ah, nostalgia, a fascinatingly inefficient facet of the human mind, isn’t it?”

“Tell me about it.” Robert rolled his eyes. “You sure have a knack for sarcasm.”

“Thank you. We do strive for excellence in all areas.” Robert detected a hint of amusement and pride in the AI’s voice. This was probably the first time he had ever heard of an AI being able to be sarcastic or amused.

As they delved further into the asteroid belt, the danger intensified, and the tension mounted. Robert’s nerves frayed as the number of near-misses and close calls increased.

“There is news. There is a moon-wide alert from Commander Kane. He’s offering a substantial reward for your capture, Mr. Fannec. It appears we’ve made quite an impression on the SLPS,” Ace said, startling Robert from silent reverie.

“Fan-freaking-tastic.” Guilt and fear were gnawing at his insides like ravenous parasites. He imagined every lunar citizen and public official now hunting for him. “Well, I’m sure to be popular with the law now.”

“Indeed,” the AI’s usual humor was tempered by genuine concern. “But on a brighter note, we are finally approaching our abandoned mining facility.”

“Any chance it’s less abandoned than we thought?” Robert attempted to suppress the tremor in his voice.

“Unlikely, given its history. This once-thriving facility was one of the first moon colonies to be established and then was turned into an asteroid-based refinery for mining precious metals. However, as resources dwindled, it was deemed unprofitable and abandoned. Its remote location has kept it forgotten, making it an ideal hiding place for you.”

“Sounds charming,” Robert said, trying to distract himself from the crushing weight of his guilt and anxiety. “A real fixer-upper, I’m sure.”

“Indeed, however, we must remain vigilant. We should not underestimate the SLPS’s reach.”

Robert’s chest tightened with each labored breath. He was aware that his actions had led to unintended consequences, including the loss of innocent lives, and the possibility of capture loomed ever larger. He cursed himself for his recklessness.

Ace sensed Robert’s darkening mood. “We understand that you may be feeling overwhelmed, and it is only natural for fear and guilt to consume you like this. However, we must remind you that we, you and us, have made considerable progress. You have demonstrated exceptional grit and resourcefulness in the face of danger.”

“Thanks, Ace,” Robert said, managing a wan smile. “You’re not so bad yourself for an AI.”

“Thank you. Together, we believe we can overcome the obstacles that lie ahead. For now, that means navigating the perilous asteroid belt and seeking refuge in the abandoned mining facility.”

The asteroid belt loomed around them, a chaotic sea of tumbling rocks and dust, its shadows swallowing the mining facility whole. The glimmer of the distant star did little to illuminate their destination. Still, as they approached, the darkness receded, revealing an outpost clinging for dear life to one of the larger asteroids.

“Mr. Fannec, we have arrived at the Mining and Refinement Station.”

Relief washed over him like the first cool breeze of autumn. “Now we need to land this thing without getting smashed to bits.”

The structure loomed before them, an intricate, alien construct seeming forged from will and iron, its spires reaching toward the stars like outstretched hands longing to touch something more significant than itself. Light glinted off its metallic surfaces in a million shades of gray, black, and blue. Its shape was a testament to mankind’s ambitions and a warning against its hubris.

Silence blanketed the space as they approached the Mining and Refinement Station; the only sound was the creaking of their ship as it winds through the asteroid belt.

“We may need your assistance on this portion of the docking procedure. We will give you some simple commands on when to engage and other minor functions. We cannot do these actions due to security protocols enabled on this ship. Please be careful and follow our guidance. “

Without reply, he followed Ace’s instructions, the ship shuddering as it latched onto the emergency docking station. The engines whined in protest before falling silent; the entire ship felt a loud and violent bump, leaving only the hum of life support systems to fill the void.

“Nice job,” Ace praised, genuine warmth permeating his words.

“Thanks.” Robert allowed himself a moment of satisfaction. “We made one hell of a team, didn’t we?”

“Indeed, we did.” The floating orb seemed to shimmer with pride. “You’re not too bad for Natural Intelligence.”

“Stop it, you’re making me blush.” Robert’s eyes scanned their new surroundings. He stepped back, taking in the accomplishment of their hard work, and felt an overwhelming sense of pride and joy swell in his chest.

“Mr. Fannec,” Ace said, his voice soft, sensing his companion’s vulnerability, “you have demonstrated remarkable courage in the face of danger.”

“Thanks, Ace,” Robert’s voice cracked slightly. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Nor us without you. Or we would have.”

“Alright, let’s not get too sentimental. We’ve got work to do?”

“Indeed, shall we proceed?”

“Lead the way, my floating friend.”

Robert gazed out the viewport at the mining facility, its massive structure sprawled across the asteroid like a metal spider. The intricate lattice of tunnels and platforms wove together in an endless network of abandoned machinery, the ghostly echoes of an industrial past.

“Would you look at that?” he said under his breath, his eyes tracing the shadowy contours of the forsaken complex. “Majestic… in a decaying sort of way.”

The sheer size of the facility was overwhelming. Robert couldn’t fathom what kind of operation it must have been in its heyday. But now, it was a forgotten relic, left to rust and rot in the vacuum of space.

“The refinery was once a thriving operation, complete with a bustling community that resided within its walls. But now, it lies dormant, a relic of ancient times.”

“Kind of like my love life,” Robert quipped, eliciting a soft chuckle from Ace. His tone shifted as he surveyed the desolate scene before him. “Why did they leave, anyway?”

Ace informed Robert that various factors had caused the decline. “Economic downturns, dwindling resources, government regulations, and a series of unfortunate accidents led to its abandonment.” It was scrapped for different reasons than the refinery was; it cost too much to transport the materials to where they would be needed. Ultimately, it was cheaper to leave it and write off the loss.

“The CaelumCorp Mining did attempt to sell it, along with other assets, several times before closing its doors for business.”

“Sounds like a proper party.” His fingers drummed against the cold metal of the console. He wondered what secrets the facility held, buried deep within its bowels, waiting for someone brave or foolish enough to uncover them.

Robert swallowed hard. “Let’s get going then.” He reached for a controls panel, preparing to atmo-dock their ship amidst the facility’s outer perimeter.

Robert saw crumbling towers looming over him like giant, skeletal hands reaching for the heavens. The shadows of the buildings played upon one another, creating an illusion of movement where there was none. The lower-level structures were clustered in the center of the towers; their twisted and mangled metal made them look like they were melting.

“Feels like we stepped into a haunted house,” Robert’s voice was barely above a whisper. “Or a graveyard.”

As his thought finished, Robert’s mind drifted back to the graveyard near his mother’s home. He recalled the sadness enveloping him as he had walked among the rows of headstones, each representing a loved one lost too soon. He remembered how he had knelt before her gravesite and tried to speak to her, though no words came out; how tears had streamed down his face as he remembered their last moments together when life still held promise and hope.

This memory brought a wave of guilt and sorrow as Robert thought about the men he had killed. He tried to push away any thoughts of who they could have been, but the faces seemed to form in his mind, regardless. His stomach churned with nausea as he tried to reconcile what he’d done with what he knew was right.

Robert wished that none of it had ever happened, that their paths had never crossed, and that those men were still alive. He even felt guilty for having the luxury of being able to reflect on his actions while those men would never see their families again.

The silence was like a shroud wrapping around him, muffling all sound but his breathing until it almost seemed he was alone in the vast space. But then, the sound of Ace’s orb whirring and beeping broke through the thick blanket of silence, startling Robert back to reality.

“An astute observation. The weight of history lies heavy upon this place, a silent testament to the countless souls who toiled here.”

Robert rubbed his hands together in an attempt to ward off the chill that seeped into his bones.

He waited for a beep from the console, indicating that the atmo-dock process was complete. As soon as he picked up the sound, he hit a button on the panel, and the ship’s doors hissed open.

The long, dark hallway was illuminated by the light flowing in from the ship. Robert’s breath hung in the air before him, like a cloud of white smoke from a candle, each cloud illuminated by the light from the ship.

The walls of this place were grimy and covered in soot, blackened with the neglect of years; the sound of wind whistling echoed throughout the hallway. A single flickering light illuminated the hallway from a thick caged bulb.

Robert walked forward into the lit airlock and pushed a button on the wall. A sharp gust of an oily breeze rushed past him and into the ship.