Cloverleaf Station: Chapter Three, Part One

 Notes: Incoming MC alert! Incoming MC alert! Prepare for sparks flying!

Title: Cloverleaf Station: Chapter Three, Part One

***

Chapter Three, Part One

 

While they were in the hot zone, Cloverleaf Station’s useable space was cut down to less than a quarter of what it was when open to visitors. Mostly, it was in an effort to conserve fuel stores—five months was a long time to wait for a resupply in anything, and if the station ran out of fuel then running out of other tenuous supplies wouldn’t matter so much, because they’d either spoil or freeze solid depending on what fell apart next.

Kieron closed off every hangar bay except the one he settled his own ship into, Bay Five. He closed all the living areas beyond his own, as well as all the spots designed for group socialization. He left the path to the kitchens open, as well as the corridor between the command center and his private rooms. He left one bed in the clinic functioning, and gave himself access to a single multi-function machine in the gym as well. Everything else, though, was disconnected from the station’s power grid, by hand in some cases. The more of Cloverleaf’s interior that went dark, the more settled Kieron felt.

Sitting in the command center now, Kieron looked at the data pouring in from all the most recent trips by miners using Cloverleaf Station as their port. They matched up perfectly to last year’s data, and the year before that. Consistency in stellar cartography was usually to be expected, but this close to a quasar, funny things could happen.

He had a good feeling about his search algorithms this year, though. He was sure to get it this time, sure to pinpoint where the Dark Cluster had drifted off to. It had only been two and a half years—odds were good it was still out there, waiting for him to find it. When he found it, he would find Zakari. Once he did that…

Kieron shut his eyes, replaying the last communication he’d gotten from Xilinn, the only one of Zakari’s spouses who was still talking to him. It had been a video message, of her with their son Pol on her lap—one of Zakari’s two biological children, not that biological parentage mattered much in Traktan culture. Xilinn had been smiling, her eyes bright, reflecting the rainbow of colors in the garden all around her. Pol had been playing with a small toy hovercraft, pushing it back and forth through the air between his hands.

“Hello Uncle Kieron!” she had said, giving him a little wave. “Pol and I just wanted to say happy birthday to you. We hope you had fun out there, maybe did some bowling? I think I remember Zak saying something about installing a bowling alley in Cloverleaf. Anyway, we miss you and would love to hear from you.”

Pol had looked up then, his expression petulant, cheeks so round that they practically fell onto his shoulders. He was the image of his father, with that full-moon face. “When are you going to come back?” he whined. “You and Daddy said you would be back ages ago! I want to show you my fleet! I have the whole set of Federation ship types now.”

“Yes, we’re very proud of our little fleet,” Xilinn had interjected in a very “I’m humoring you” tone of voice. “Why don’t you go get the biggest one to show him?”

Pol had clambered down from her lap and run off, and Xilinn took the moment to address Kieron in a more direct manner. “I appreciate every effort you’re making on Zakari’s behalf,” she began, her hands folded across the azure cloth covering her lap, “but it’s been so long since we’ve seen you. If you were going to find him, wouldn’t it have happened by now? If he is lost…” She bit her lower lip for a moment, looking down, before clearing her through and stiffening her spine. “If he’s lost forever, then we should say the proper prayers for him, and cleanse the family mausoleum of his resting space.”

Meaning that he wouldn’t have a resting space in his family mausoleum; meaning that his name would be stricken from the family charter, and his children would have no connection to him. It would be like he’d never existed.

Kieron wasn’t a fan of Traktan orthodoxy, particularly in a day and age when regular space travel made their worst fear, dying and leaving no body behind, an unfortunate but not a rare occurrence. But the clergy of Trakta was, well, intractable, and they weren’t changing their practices for anything. If Zakari’s body was never brought home, then he was…nothing. He was no better than a ghost, a man disallowed from even the memories of his family. He deserved better than that.

“Pol and Szusza miss you very much,” Xilinn went on. “They’d love to see you again, and so would I. The others are less…invested, but they’d come around if you were here in person. I know they would. You stayed with us for so long, Kieron; you’re like a part of the family. Please, stop sending us money and come to visit us instead. Seeing you in person will go a lot farther than your credits ever could.” She glanced off camera and her smile stretched as she saw her son. “You brought all of them! How do you have that much room in your little arms?” She made space on the bench for her son, who was staggering under the weight of his fleet of toys. The rest of the video was spent naming them all for Kieron, and finally signing off with a wave from Pol and a traditional Traktan bow from Xilinn.

As much as Kieron loved Zakari’s family, it pained him to talk to them. He almost never did it in person anymore, preferring to send written messages. And most of his salary, but that was the least he could do after being the reason that one of their providers wasn’t around anymore. He had enough left over for the basics, and fuel. He was fine.

What wasn’t fine was the thought of Zakari being erased like he’d never existed. He’d known the risks, but Kieron had heard his friend startle awake at night too many times, suffering from nightmares of being lost to space. It had scared him so badly, almost badly enough to cancel their research trip. Kieron was the one who’d convinced him to come here, told him that everything would be all right, that he’d make sure of it.

What a liar he’d turned into.

He scrubbed his hands over his face and stared at his algorithm again, set it to mirror last year’s path. He watched the line extend, following his previous route—the last known route that Zakari had taken before he went radio silent.

Dead. Just say dead. Nobody could survive out there for so long, even disregarding the radiation, which you know killed him in under five minutes. He’s dead.

Whatever. The point was, Kieron was closer than ever to having the location of their ship, the Dark Cluster, pinned down. If he could reach it, staying safely in the shadows as long as possible, and if he could bring it back to Cloverleaf Station, then…

In life, Kieron had pushed Zakari past his comfort zone. In death, all he wanted was to take the man back to his family’s mausoleum, where he would be remembered with the bodies of the other honored dead for centuries to come. It was all Kieron wanted anymore, his sole goal in life.

Not much left in there for you personally, buddy.

And that, Kieron insisted to the voice that sounded like his dead best friend, was how he preferred it.

I worry about you.

There was nothing to worry about. Kieron was fine, totally healthy in every way. The Station was performing its radiation-clocking functions at full capacity, he had supplies to last him well beyond five months in case the unexpected happened, and now that he was finally alone, he could—

“Cloverleaf Station, come in!”

What…the…hell?

“Cloverleaf Station, come in! Fuck’s sake, I’ve been firing messages off into the dark for half a fucking hour, what, are you jerking it over there? Cloverleaf Station, come the fuck—”

“Who is this?” Kieron asked as he activated the com. He’d shut down the long-range scanners because they didn’t work well in the hot zone, and besides, what was the point? Nobody else would be foolish enough to come out here right now…right?

“Finally! I thought I’d have to physically knock on your damn door before you decided to open up for me.”

“Who is this?” Kieron repeated, letting his annoyance show through. “Not that it really matters, because the station is closed for the season, and if you know what’s good for you you’ll head in the opposite direction at top speed before you get yourself killed.”

“Oooh, you’re sparky, I like that,” the voice said with a laugh. “But that’s not what’s happening here, friend. I’m coming in fast, you’re going to open a bay door for me, I’m going to park, and then we’re going to get to work.”

Whoever it was, he was a madman. “I have no orders to allow anyone in here, and I’m not—”

“Check your com log again, Sparky, because as of three weeks ago, I purchased the contract to oversee this station from the Federation. That means all operational decisions go through me, including who gets in and when.”

What the…who the… “Who are you?” Kieron managed, his voice firm even though his mind was tumbling so hard in his head that he felt dizzy.

“Oh, sorry, forgot that part. I’m Elanus Desfontaines, CEO of Lifeship Enterprises, and your new boss. Now open a fucking door for me so I can come in and introduce myself properly.”

What.

The.

Hell.

Cloverleaf Station: Chapter Two, Part One

 Notes: Hiiii! Back to Cloverleaf, where you'll all be thrilled to know that we're nearly at the end of Dave's tenure on the station ;)

Title: Cloverleaf Station: Chapter One, Part Two

***

Chapter Two, Part One

 

Getting everyone else out of the station was one of the best parts of Kieron’s job. It wasn’t that he was completely antisocial; he couldn’t have been effective as Cloverleaf’s station master if that was the case. It was more that the satisfaction he got from the eight standard months spent catering to other people’s needs paled in comparison to the pleasure he got out of spending five months by himself, alone, just him and the station and her various creaks and groans, working on his special project and diving in deep to the parts of his psyche he usually had to lock away.

Shadow time was for Kieron to devote to other people. When the station moved into the hot zone, that time was all for Zakari.

Getting people out was more hectic this pass than usual. He’d had just enough time to get both the Masons in for a single deep-tissue Regen treatment before returning them to their ship, where their onboard Regen unit could handle things until they got to a major trading station or planet.

“It’ll be fine,” Thoosa Mason said after Kieron asked for the third time whether they thought they could make it. “It’s only a few weeks, we can manage that. Plus, I asked Robbie and his crew to come with us as far as Delta Nine, just in case.”

“Ah.” Kieron hadn’t had much interaction with Robbie—no last name—and his crew, four total, even less named, but they’d been model guests every time he met with them and had no red flags associated with their ship, so what he didn’t know wasn’t his business. “That’s good.”

“It is.” Thoosa sighed, then patted Kieron once on the shoulder. For a physically affectionate person like Thoosa, it was a very reserved gesture. Kieron knew he only had himself to blame for that. “Thanks for everything. You went above and beyond for Jin and me, and we’re not gonna forget it.”

“It’s my job.”

“Yeah,” Thoosa said, shouldering a pack that held the last of the things from their storage locker. “And you did it really fucking well.” Their departure left Kieron with a feeling he’d almost forgotten—pride.

Dave’s departure, on the other hand, left Kieron with a feeling he was very used to steeping in at this point—wrath. “The extra fuel isn’t free, Dave. You know that.”

“It’s a perk!” Dave protested, stabbing the surface of Kieron’s desk angrily. The holographic display in the air between them wavered. “It’s in the contract!”

Kieron shook his head. “Enough to get here from your point of hire, and to return to the same place after the contract is done, is included. Not enough to get you to Riva.”

“But I have to be at Riva in twenty-two days!”

“I don’t care.” I cannot express to you how little I fucking care where you go, as long as it’s far away. “You only get free fuel as far as Delta Nine, which is where you came from after you signed the contract.”

“This is bullshit! I can’t afford that much fuel on my own.”

It wasn’t any of Kieron’s business, but… “There’s literally nothing to spend money on out here. All of your basic needs are covered, and use of the luxury food items are an actual perk of the job. Entertainment, clothing, it’s all included. Where did all your credits go?”

Dave sat back abruptly in his chair. “Um. Uh.”

“You didn’t have anything shipped in,” Kieron continued, leaning forward slightly. “And as far as I can tell from the subspace communications log, you haven’t paid for premium access there, so you’re not spending all your credits on porn.”

“Ahahahaa!” That as a nervous laugh if ever Kieron had heard one. Dave wasn’t quite meeting his eyes, one hand scratching through his thin beard while the other one tapped against the edge of the table. “No, totally not porn.”

“Then what?” It had to be something in house, but there was literally nothing else Dave could have spent so much money on, unless he was part of some kind of…of… “Dave. Have you been gambling on this station?”

“What? Dude, no, of course not!”

He still wasn’t meeting Kieron’s eyes. “You know I don’t give a fuck about your extracurriculars,” Kieron said slowly, “but gambling is expressly forbidden on station if it’s not virtual. And you know why, right?”

“Um…yeah. Cause…”

“Because when people gamble on real life, they begin to look for ways to change the odds in their favor.” Kieron felt his temples start to pound. Were his veins bulging? He didn’t know, but from the look on Dave’s face they probably were. “On a place like Cloverleaf Station, which is on the edge of disaster at all times, that means doing things that could put people’s lives at risk.”

“Betting on how many times Howie is going to shit in one day isn’t risky!” Dave protested.

“It is if it means fucking around with his food to give him diarrhea,” Kieron replied, feeling a dark sense of satisfaction temper his rage. “Which he got a couple of times, if I recall. Not to mention the times we had inexplicable shorts in the wiring, or issues with the computer, or blank spots in the records where there should have been camera footage or data from the mineral stores. You’ve been messing with the control systems.”

“I…no.”

“Dave.” Kieron leaned forward. “Do you honestly think I’m not going to be able to find your sticky little digital implant prints all over those shitty slices in the records? Do you think I’m not going to be able to figure out who you were gambling with? Do you really think I’m going to let this go, after all the shit that’s gone wrong during your tenure here?”

“It could have been you,” Dave pressed, obviously not scenting the blood in the water. “It’s your word against mine! I could level a complaint about you for, like, so many reasons. You’re a total asshole to work for, you know that? I could tell the bosses on Delta Nine all sorts of stuff about you.”

“Do it.”

Dave blinked. “What?”

“Tell them. Tell them anything you want.” Kieron was supremely unconcerned. “Give them whatever doctored footage you’ve got too. And then we’ll come back to following the money trail, which you haven’t been able to hide, and I’ll get in touch with the Calloway crew—” it was a bit of a shot in the dark but yes, there was the flinch he was looking for “—and see if they’ll give you up in exchange for being allowed to work here again, because otherwise I’m blacklisting them, and then—”

“Okay! Okay, fine, there’s no need to be so fucking pushy, dude!” Dave held his hands up placatingly. “Yeah, I made a few bets with the Calloways and, like, a couple other people, and they didn’t all work out for me, but we didn’t put anyone in danger! I totally promise!”

“How do you know that?”

Dave smirked. “No one died, did they?”

No thanks to you. “I want the record of every single bet you made,” Kieron said coldly, and the smirk fell off Dave’s face. “I want to know what systems were affected and when, and if you can’t give me every detail I ask for, I’m reporting you for illegal activities to our supervisor.”

“Dude…no.” Dave’s hands were shaking. “Please, don’t do that. I can’t afford to go to prison, man! A place like Redstone would eat my ass for breakfast.”

“Redstone isn’t an operable prison anymore, and nobody is interested in your ass,” Kieron replied. “Get me those records. Now. Then get your stuff together and get the fuck off this station. You have—” He checked the chronometer dramatically. “Two hours and fifteen standard minutes.”

Dave gaped at him.

“And you’re still paying for that extra fuel,” Kieron added. “Run.”

Dave ran.

Kieron watched his back vanish through the door, and his sense of satisfaction gradually overwhelmed his urge to do physical damage to the idiot. He shut his eyes and took some deep, measured breaths, carefully getting himself back under control. He was so much better at it these days; all that work with the meditation master on Delta Nine had paid off.

Gambling. It could have been worse, but not by much. Kieron wasn’t lying when he said he wasn’t going to report it, but he was going to blacklist the fucking Calloways, and anyone else he found out had been fucking with Cloverleaf’s systems. It was too precarious out here to allow for any slip-ups or mistakes. Nobody knew that like Kieron.

If someone had died because of a few stupid bets…well.

Prison would be the least of their worries once Kieron found them.

Back to work. The sooner he ended Dave’s contract and sent it off, the sooner he’d be comfortably alone.

Cloverleaf Station: Chapter One, Part Two

 Notes: More Cloverleaf Station, woot! Let's have a rescue and some anger issues, shall we?

 Title: Cloverleaf Station: Chapter One, Part Two

 

***

Chapter One, Part Two

 

Photo by: Luc Viatour / https://Lucnix.be

 

You have to keep calm.

You have to run.

Keep it together.

Fuck keeping it together, literally every second counts, RUN!

This was the conversation that had played out in Kieron’s head every time he got a rescue call for the past two years. The battle between urgency and clear-headedness, between personal safety and mission success, became more fraught every time he went through it.

For a while after things went so terribly wrong with Zakari, he’d trended hardcore toward flagrantly ignoring his personal safety for the sake of the rescue. After one of those escapades had ended with the woman he was rescuing dying anyway, and him having to spend a week in a Regen tank regrowing almost all of his skin, his distant supervisor had suggested that he was possibly not in the right frame of mind to be working on Cloverleaf Station.

“Especially after what happened to your friend…it might not be the right place for you at this time in your life. There are other stations between here and Delta Nine that you might do better at.”

Kieron knew he would probably go insane and do something very rash if he were transferred away. He couldn’t leave Cloverleaf Station, not until he accomplished what he had to. So he boxed up all his insecurities and desperation, settled into the persona of a professional, and stopped acting recklessly. He was personable to clients, he was amiable to travelers, he managed not to smother Dave for being the worst second ever. He was as normal as normal could be, when it was nothing but a façade over the crackling, memory-haunted hellscape of Kieron’s innermost thoughts.

It was only when he slept, and at times like this, that the cracks surged to the surface of his psyche. He couldn’t afford to fuck up, he couldn’t…but he couldn’t let the Masons die either.

He threw himself into the Do’s pilot seat and sealed the door. “Open Shuttle Bay Five.” He left his personal ship in the smallest, most private shuttle bay, the one that required the fewest resources to get in and out of.

“Copy that,” Dave said over the com. Kieron fired up his engines and waited for the shuttle doors to open.

And waited.

And waited.

“Dave…”

“Sorry! Sorry, just looking for the right button, hang on.”

“Triple circle in green on the righthand side of the center console. Don’t forget to input your ID number.”

“Right, got it, just…you’re still logged in.”

Kieron resisted the urge to grab something sharp and hold on until he bled. “Log. Me. Out.”

“That’s kind of your job, dude.”

You can’t kill him. Keep it together. “Right now my job is to help the Masons, so override my information with your hard code and get me out there.”

“Right, just…I don’t think I remember my hard code?”

“It’s. On the back. Of your ID card.” Short sentences. Just breathe. “Type it in. Now.”

“No need to get pissy, man.”

Knowing he’d regret his entire life if he said something right now, Kieron bit his lip hard enough to hurt while he waited for Dave to get his shit together. Almost an entire minute passed before Dave said, “Okay, Shuttle Bay Five opening in three…two…one…” The massively thick door rose ponderously, and Kieron fired his engines again as he made sure his personal computer was locked on to Mason Bay’s signal. He still had them.

He flew out into the black the second there was enough space for his ship to squeeze under the door, kicking the Do into a brisk pace even as he engaged the autopilot. It was programmed to keep him in the shadow, which gave him the time he needed to get into his suit. Greenies were the thickest, heaviest, clumsiest space suits in the entire Federation, but it was the best protection he could have against the radiation if he had no choice but to leave Big Momma’s shadow behind. He glanced at the timer as he attached the helmet. Six minutes until the Masons were toast.

“Uh, Kieron?”

Deep breath. He flicked on his external mic. “Yes?”

“The Masons are kind of freaking out over the com.”

“Did you tell them I’m on my way?”

“I sort of thought you’d do that.”

“When have I—” When have I had time to do that, you fucking piece of— “Please let them know that I’m on the way.”

“Maybe you could—”

“I’ll contact them directly in a moment, just…talk to them, Dave. They need reassurance right now.”

“I’m not so good at reassurance.”

No fucking kidding. “Do your best.” Mason checked and rechecked all of his seams and seals, then settled back into the pilot’s seat. Five minutes. “Mason’s Bay, this is Daring Do, over. Mason’s Bay, do you copy?” Nothing. He repeated the transmission two more times, and got no reply. “Dave, they’re not coming through, what’s happening out there?”

“Um, I think maybe something is wrong with their communication array?”

No shit. “Have you had any success getting through to them?”

“Nope. I stopped being able to hear them a minute ago.” He paused, then added, “It’s kind of nicer that way, they were starting to cry.”

“Mm.” Kieron settled into his rage like shrugging on his favorite shirt. It was amazing how angry you could be while still functioning like a normal person. “Keep trying to reach them. Tell them I’m coming.” They were getting close to visual range. He flicked his cameras on and magnified the view. Only a few hundred kilometers now…soon they would be—

“Oh, shit.” They’d clearly been in some sort of collision—with a minor asteroid or fracture from Big Momma, he didn’t know, but there was a cloud of silver particles surrounding the Bay, and it was spinning uncontrollably. The internal gyroscope was gone, then. “I’m going to have to lasso them.”

“You can’t. They’re too close to the line.”

“I have to.”

“Dude, seriously, the way they’re spinning, there’s no chance of making a lasso work. You won’t be able to hook it securely enough.”

“I will the way I’m using it.” Their cargo bay was already perforated and blowing its contents into space. He had his own mining explosives on board the Do; if he attached them to the lasso cable and shot it at just the right angle, he might be able to blast a hook through the backend of the Bay. Full power to the engines, and…

No time for second guessing. Just do it.

If you fail, at least you won’t have made things any worse.

Kieron ran as fast as he could to his own cargo bay, assembling his makeshift harpoon as quickly as he could. His cable seemed so delicate, given the task that was ahead of it. Was there any real way this could work?

It had to work. He used the smallest amount of explosive he had, just enough to make the ship’s hull fuse around the cable instead of breaking further apart, and set the launcher. He raced back to the pilot’s seat just as his countdown got into the single digits.

Nine…Eight…

Kieron didn’t stop to think, just fired the cable. It jetted toward the Bay, moving fast.

Five…four…

It impacted the rear hull, right above the cargo bay. The explosion was minor, no sudden bursts into the black to indicate depressurization.

One…Zero…Minus One…Minus Two…

They were out of the shadow now, and that meant they were being exposed to massive amounts of radiation. Kieron retracted the cable, tugging at first carefully, then more firmly once he was sure the lock was good.

Minus Six…Minus Seven…

More than a minute would mean heavy Regen treatments that Kieron didn’t have access to on Cloverleaf Station. More than two minutes would mean death, unavoidable. He pulled, and the ship slowly stopped spinning and began to reverse its course.

Minus Eleven…Minus Twelve…

Five breathless seconds later, the Mason’s Bay was back in the shadow of Big Momma. Kieron focused on getting back to the station, not letting himself think about the state the Masons were in right now, about whether they were conscious, how badly they were burning. He couldn’t do anything about the rest of it until he had them on Cloverleaf again. “Dave, we’re incoming. Open Shuttle Bay Three, I’m going to need the maneuvering space to get their ship settled without crashing into anyone else.”

“Aw, hey, you did it? Nice!”

“Haven’t you been watching?” Kieron demanded, feeling his tenuous control slip a bit. “That’s your job right now, Dave, to watch everything and back me up.”

“Right, yeah, but you totally had this. And what could I have done if you hadn’t, man?” There was a chewing sound over the com.

He was eating his goddamn lunch.

“What indeed.” Kieron shut off the audio and focused on getting the right angle on the shuttle bay. He needed to figure out how to drift-park the Bay behind him once they were inside without doing more damage to it. He needed to remote-activate the clinic, because fuck asking Dave to do that. He needed to prepare to handle two radioactive people with only the supplies he had on hand.

He could do it.

Because Dave might be useless, but Kieron was never going to be caught unprepared again.