“Did you get your money?” said Jolo.
“Do I look happy?” she yelled back. “I was about to get the agreed upon amount, but then this greasy little bastard in a suit came and nixed the deal. I think he's a Fed. He said there is a battle group waiting for us when we break atmo. The slimy bastard was smiling like he already had us.”
“Black suit and tie?” said Jolo.
“Yep.”
“Not good. Okay, let's stay on the surface for now and get out of here.”
On the way out they passed by the mining operation again. Half a kilometer to the north Jolo saw some dust being kicked up and a shiny black drone in hot pursuit.
“Katy, sit there in the engineer’s chair,” Jolo said. “Can you get a lock on the droid?”
“What are you gonna do?” said Katy.
“Well, we're already hot, so might as well go out swinging.”
Jolo swung the Jessica around to get a better angle on the tiny droid and took it down with a short burst from the railgun. The people on the ground stopped running and looked up at the Federation gunboat hovering over them. They're wondering why the Fed would bother to help them, thought Jolo.
Then they headed straight back to the mining operation. He flew in close and the people scattered when the large gunboat came in. The BG overlords waved their energy sticks at the ship. It was some sort of sign or signal. But Jolo took them out just like he’d done to the droid. Then he landed the ship. He opened the back hatch and started hauling out large boxes of Federation food and medicine to the work crew.
Most of the people were tired and dehydrated, but happy to have something to eat. They tore into the boxes before they even got off the boat. A tall, bearded man came to Jolo. “Are you the captain?” he said. Jolo nodded. “I’m Berg. Thank you for your help, but unfortunately this will be our last meal. The BG will be back within an hour and they'll kill everyone here.”
“Where can I take you?” said Jolo
“Off this rock,” said Berg.
“I'm not sure if I can do that,” said Jolo. “I've got a Federation battle group waiting for me topside.”
“We'll take our chances with you, if that's OK,” said the man.
“Bring all your people in. Keep them here in the storage bay,” said Jolo, eyeing the stern man whose clothes were worn thin. He guessed the man was military at some point before being taken. “If it comes down to it, at least we’ll die free men.”
Berg nodded, and looked at the people, still tearing into the Fed rations, “And on a full stomach.”
Gravity
The planet Qualus.
Jolo ran back to the bridge and Katy was in a panic. “We've got a large ship breaking atmosphere in about 30 seconds. I think it's probably a BG cruiser. What are we gonna do?” Katy said. “If we go topside the Feds got us.”
“And I don't think we can beat a cruiser with a gunboat,” said Jolo. “Especially with no crew.” Jolo stood there for a moment staring at the empty nav and engineer’s chairs.
“You ain’t blanking out on me again, are you?” said Katy.
“Naw. Just thinkin’,” he said. She was holding his arm, looking at him like a scared child. “Okay,” he said. “We're gonna run. I need time to think.”
“Where to?” said Katy.
“Away from here. Stay low and close to the mountains.”
“I'll be back in a minute.”
Jolo ran back down to the storage area where the BG work crew was assembled. The feeding frenzy from before had slowed down and now they were sitting and resting. Some were crying, some looked happy, and most wanted some kind of reassurance or answer.
“What's the situation?” said Berg.
Jolo looked him in the eye. “It doesn't look good. Along with the Fed battle group waiting topside, we got a BG cruiser coming down to greet us.”
Some of the people heard and started to get restless. “Maybe we should've stayed there,” they said.
Jolo looked into the crowd. “Do any of you have experience on a large vessel? Preferably military?”
An old man stepped forward. He had scraggly, gray hair and was missing several teeth. His clothes hung in rags off of his body. “Yes, sir,” he said, saluting Jolo. “I was engineer of a merchant frigate and we used to do long runs to the edge of space back before the wars. The BG took ownership and forced us into labor.”
“Thank you,” said Jolo. “Anybody else?”
Two large men stepped forward. “We work security on private ships. The BG got us too. We might can be of use.” Jolo glanced at Berg and he nodded his head.
“These men are the Greeley brothers and I trust them,” he said.
And finally one small man with glasses stepped forward. “I've never flown into deep space. But I'm a mathematician and probably could work in some capacity. My name is Koba.”
Jolo pointed the big Greeley brothers to the armory. He hoped there were at least two battle suits that would fit. Then he told the old man, named Hurley, and the mathematician, to follow him to the bridge.
Then he turned to face the crowd. “Have you people heard of Jolo Vargas?” he said.
Everyone looked up. “He’s a war hero. Is he coming to rescue us?” someone said. Then another, “He died two years past.”
“Well, I am Jolo Vargas,” he said. “I’m not dead yet, and I will not let you down.”
He turned and strode out of the room as confidently as he could. He’d tried to say it like he thought Jolo Vargas would have said it. Like a real hero. He hoped they believed it, hoped he believed it. And as he made his way to the bridge, a familiar line popped into his head: If you can’t make it, fake it. Jolo smiled at the thought
