Bonus Story

A story from the Squad 51 Universe.

Belucen Chote stood at the helm of the Bloodless Chote’s pirate ship, her fingers gliding over the holo controls as she studied the glowing display on the gel glass panel. Her eyes flicked over the data streaming in—ship scans, vulnerability assessments, and escape routes—her mind calculating, predicting, anticipating. Her parents had pushed her and taught her, and demanded she prove her blood. Today. With this raid, Belucen would officially become a Chote or not.

“Look at that ship,” Mauker, her father, growled behind her, a mixture of impatience and cold amusement. Belucen was not to call them mother and father, but by their names, Mauker and Zawaid. “Vulnerable. You can’t miss it.”

Belucen’s gaze shifted to the small freighter drifting aimlessly in the dark expanse of the Outer Sol. It was an easy target, yes. But something didn’t sit right. “I don’t trust it,” she said, her voice steady but edged with doubt, sounding the fifteen years she was. “It’s too easy.”

Her father scoffed, a low rumble in his chest. He pulled out a knife tucked into his sleeve. “You’re paranoid, which is one of your many problems. You overthink everything. Buck up and show some guts. Prove to me my blood runs in your veins.” He ran the blade over her chin, waiting for the moment her eyes followed the blade’s every flicker. His wrist twitched, and he nicked her, laughing at the blood dripping off her chin onto her armor.

She had made a mistake by giving into fear, by letting her distrust of Mauker seep into her emotions and make her react. She could not rest or relax when around her parents. They could attack at any time. The constant intimidation wasn’t just for show. They said this was the way to toughen her up for the life she was born to.

Her mother, Zawaid, adjusted the straps on Belucen’s black armor, her movements deliberate and calm. Every pirate wore the same dark armor and a black scarf on their heads. In a smooth move, Zawaid knocked Belucen out of the way. “Take the skiff to hunt down your prey. A cruiser? Really, kid? Most of them are showy on the outside with nothing worthwhile on the inside. We’re raiding the freighter.” Zawaid gestured to the more obvious target on the gel glass panel. “If the skiff and you don’t come back with riches, you’re our next target. Understand, kid?”

Belucen’s pulse quickened. Her parents would cut her to shreds or worse, if she failed. If the situation presented itself, she might let herself fail, might chance their wrath. Her main reason for choosing the cruiser over the freighter was because she might find a chance for herself on that ship, a chance not to be a Chote, a reason to see if the love she had witnessed in movies and on news reports when allowed to access the comm link was true.

“Aye, Zawaid.” She glanced at her father. “Mauker.”

“I’ll let you take Mastiff with you,” Mauker said. Mastiff was offered as a small token of parental concern.

As large and burly as her father, Mastiff was the equivalent of a military squad in one man. A ragged scar ran across his face in a diagonal line. Applying a red makeup pencil to it several times a day, he made sure the scar stood out from the blocky, asymmetrical face, and bulbous nose. His eyes always threatened, and his expression held danger. Mastiff was definitely someone Belucen didn’t want to be alone with. She doubted he would listen to any orders she gave, but she knew her father’s suggestion wasn’t a suggestion. Lessons from as far back as she could remember had stressed the word ‘no’ was not allowed when answering her parents.

With quick strides, she left flight control and traveled down two levels to board the skiff attached to the raider. Mastiff’s steps banged like boulders behind her, not letting her forget for a moment how huge, how powerful, how deadly he was. The skiff split off from the raider without a hitch, and Belucen steered it toward the cruiser.

Mastiff stood beside her, twirling his knives on his fingertips. She knew he could send one through her throat faster than she could blink, so kept her loathing to herself. “You’re so stupid,” he said. “You should listen to Mauker. He’s the king of pirates out here for a reason.”

Struggling not to gulp or stutter, Belucan watched the floor until her somersaulting emotions fell back under her control. “This is my initiation into the Chotes, Mastiff. I don’t earn my place by doing what’s easy.”

“Alright, kid. You’re about to earn my respect.” Putting his knives away, he stood like a giant of death, watching her every move.

As the skiff settled into position, he moved to the hatch, ready for action. Belucen felt the weight of her parents’ expectations on her shoulders and her own hopes. For better or worse, her future would unfold on that cruiser. The skiff released its grappling lines—technology designed to snag and hold ships in place, a violent embrace that would allow them to board. The magnetic clamps clicked into place, the shrill sound of metal-on-metal filling the air. The hold was locked.

Belucen donned her helmet, preparing to become a Chote, a dark version of human, or maybe she would see another path. At the exit next to Mastiff, the air thickened, bordering on choking Belucen. The comm system in her helmet broke the tension, flickering relentlessly. Zawaid’s voice cut through Belucen’s spinning thoughts. “Get on with it and quit dawdling. You’re supposed to lead this raid, not stand around like a coward.”

The words sliced as they were meant to, but Belucen didn’t flinch. She was more ruffled by Mastiff beside her than her parents on the raider. If push came to shove, the skiff could outrace the raider. Her parents kept the comm open, their laughter roaring, mocking her decision. Mastiff looked to her waiting, his expression growing impatient.

She opened the hatch and cut through the side of the cruiser with a plasma saw, sparks flying, the fiery glints displaying more confidence than she felt. She signaled Mastiff to follow and entered the cruiser. The smell shifted. Instead of blood and stale, the cruiser’s air was laced with citrus and ozone. Her boots sank silently into the lush carpet covering the cruiser’s floor. Whoever owned this ship was loaded. She had chosen wisely.

Not waiting for further orders, Mastiff shouldered through a door on their right, breaking into a store room. He banged and boomed and thudded through the room. Not caring what he found, Belucen hurried ahead, searching for the crew. She wanted to warn them, tell them to hide. Mastiff would believe her if she said the ship was manned only by AI, taking the cruiser into dock at Vanth. She would figure out what to do about Mastiff later. She didn’t have to search long. An elegant woman sat in flight control with an ease, almost boredom. Dressed in rich tunics draping lavishly over her slim pants, the woman had her booted feet resting on a console.

“Took you long enough. I’m Min Ashida. You are?”

“Belucen Chote of the Bloodless Chotes, and I’m here to raid you.”

Min’s head fell back, her drape of black hair spilling in waves down past her shoulders. “Just you?”

“You have to hide. The man with me will kill you if he finds you.” She toyed with the gun strapped to her hip that shot razors

Min’s gaze darted to the still holstered weapon. “Why are you here and not over there?” She pointed out the window at the hapless freighter her parents approached. “And you’re alone.”

“I-I’m not. Mastiff is with me. He’s a killer.” Belucen glanced around the swanky flight control. There were no scrapes or scratches or dents. No blood stains. The controls gleamed like jewels, and the single chair looked comfortable enough to live on. Photos covered the walls. Photos of smiling happy people.

“My family,” Min said.

Belucen stepped closer to the images, peering into the grinning faces. She counted seventy-two before Min interrupted her.

Min held out a glimmering ring with a gem as large as Belucen’s fist. Belucen ignored the offering, tapping on the photos. “Not many of them look like you.”

“Where are you from? The Inner Sol?”

“I grew up on the raider.” She shrugged toward the raider outside in the distance.

“I see.” Min’s expression softened. “The definition of family in the Outer Sol is a broader one than in other places. People we love, whether related or not, are our family.” Taking in Belucen from boot to helmet, Min’s eyelids snapped. “You look young? How old are you?”

Belucen shrugged. “As best I can count from as far back as I remember, about fifteen.”

“Fifteen is young. You’re not yet set in your life’s direction.”

“I hope not. I hope on this cruiser, I might find a choice.”

In the far distance, where the raider and freighter met, weapons went off. The explosions raced out in spheres, reaching into the darkness, wrenching the voids with violence. Belucen watched for a moment, then returned her attention to Min.

“You appear to have found a nice direction. What do you do?”

“What do I do?” Min chuckled, amused by the question. “I work with the authorities.” She nodded at the battle outside. “I’m with the regiment on the freighter and the patrol ships moving in.” Her head cocked, and she raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Did you think this is my ship? It was confiscated from a lower space baron. Do you know of them? They’re a better bred sort of pirate.”

“I only know the Bloodless Chotes and other gangs.” Her gaze settled on the photos again. “You made yourself at home quickly.”

“You noticed that, did you? I take my family everywhere, Belucen Chote of the Bloodless Chotes, who are about to be put into custody.” She flicked her holoscreen to public so Belucen could see her parents’ raider surrounded by patrol ships. “They’ll be put into prison for life. They deserve worse for all the lives they took.” Her lips pressed together, and bitterness flashed over her expression.

Thumps and bangs sounded in the corridor. Mastiff howled, moving this way.

“I don’t want you to die, Min. Hide before he gets here.”

“Why don’t you want me to die, young pirate?”

“This is my first raid. The one who will make me a Chote or not a Chote. I don’t want to be like them.” She gestured at the raider. “I want that.” She pointed at the pictures of Min’s family. Tears stung her eyes, and truth filled her heart. She wanted what Min had. Not the fancy cruiser, but over seventy people who loved her. Across the void, the raider exploded, taking out the freighter and several patrol ships. Belucen’s heart caught, and her breath hitched. “I’m sorry, Min. I’m sorry they killed more of your family. My parents would have set off their self destruct rather than go to prison.”

The heavy thudding, frantic banging, and howling that had rattled the hallway a moment ago cut off, replaced by a dull thwamp, the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. Mastiff swore. A whine and crunch followed, sharp and metallic, then a strange, hollow stillness. Belucen tensed, instinct overriding thought. Something had changed. She shifted closer to Min, unholstering her weapon, pointing it at the doorway, waiting for Mastiff to appear.

“How cute. You’re going to protect me? Don’t worry about him,” Min said. “My android just snagged him, and the patrol ships weren’t harmed.” Min showed the area scan with every patrol ship accounted for. “The patrol ships have the best defenses. I’m sorry about your family, though.”

“We-we weren’t much of a family.” Belucen’s shoulders sagged. She handed her weapon to Min and removed her armor. “I’ll turn myself into you.”

Min Ashida’s gaze softened. “Maybe I can give you what you want,” she said, standing up slowly. “This doesn’t have to be who you are. I can offer you a new start, a chance to leave the pirate life behind.”

“I want a chance to fill my walls with family photos. You can give me that chance?”

“I can, Lucy.” Min’s smile was small but reassuring. “For a new life, you need a new name.”

“Lucy is nice. It sounds more inviting than Belucen.” She glanced at the approaching patrol ships. “Will they accept my new name?”

“They’ll accept what I tell them, Lucy. Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life.”

Lucy swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She had found her hope, found her chance, and her chance was better than she expected. “Lucy,” she whispered, testing the name. It sounded like freedom.