'Firefly meets Battlestar Galactica'.
A merchant's daughter is captured and sold into slavery.
A genetically modified survivor of an alien attack scours the galaxy for her taken brother before he is 'disassembled'.
An alien scientist u...
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"This has to be the stupidest thing I've ever done." Daphne muttered, pulling the length of her body forward by her elbows. It would be easier to use her hands to crawl through the maintenance shaft but she needed them for her guns. Armed and ready for the blood thirsty liberated slaves she was about to lure her way. "I'm going to kill him."
She could have refused to be bait. Thrack offered to meet them head on, rolling out of the engine room in a blaze of glory while Daphne snuck the child she couldn't communicate with off the ship. She didn't mind children, especially quiet ones like Agne, but she wasn't parent material. She could stalk animals, wait hours for prey to wander into her sights, but when it came to children, she had the patience of a Tibear waking up after the cold season. Aside from her lack of maternal feelings, self-sacrifice was for fools and martyrs. Thrack and Daphne were neither. What did self-sacrifice get you? She could have jumped out of hiding when the Nisseri carted her brother away, then they'd both be dead. Idiot. Daphne inhaled through her nose and shoved down the memory. She couldn't afford the distraction.
She reached the intersection Thrack showed her on the ship schematics. Their plan was shaky, but Thrack stressed their time was short. Success hinged on two factors, her guns, and whether or not a guard detail watched the Mutineer. Thrack estimated there were several ex-soldiers among the slaves but they lacked leadership and their number was too small to spread around.
Daphne pulled her legs around in the wider space, studied the access panel, and gave a solid kick to the latching mechanism. The panel fell to the hall below with a resonating thud. She followed, landing in a low crouch, guns up.
The men milled around the sealed engine room, looking up and around for the source of the noise, while a two man team held a massive cutting torch to burn a hole in the door. None of them were looking in her direction. Daphne rolled her eyes, amazed these geniuses managed to overthrow a ship of dying Nisseri.
"Oh boys!" she called. The men stopped working as all eyes turned to her. She winked and lifted her gun, aiming for a pipeline over their poor, confused heads. Her shot ripped a hole through the fatigued metal, releasing a thick cloud of coolant. She didn't stick around to admire her handy work. Thrack insisted it wouldn't kill a human but the chemical rash and uncontrollable vomiting weren't her idea of fun. She pulled her vest up over her nose, breathing through the cloth as she opened the door to the hold. She heard the men yelling and retching as she slipped inside, meeting no one but her little lady.
"Hello darling, sorry it took me so long." Daphne crooned to her ship. Turning to the control panel, she input Thrack's code and bolted to her ship, opening it up, as more chaotic noise filled the hall. She thanked her foresight as she clambered into the pilot's chair, the engine purring out of standby in seconds. Thrack burst into the hold, sprinting for the ship, Agne tucked against his chest. His three sets of legs moved so fast they blurred into each other. Daphne closed the Mutineer's hatch as soon as she heard him skid to a stop behind her.
