Sabotage

“All hands on deck!” called Captain Brightmist over the com. “Just like we practiced, lads.”

Jenny peered out of the small porthole at the austere, red and gold stripes of the Cassian battleship hovering port-side of the S.S. Empress. The girl’s limbs tingled with fear and excitement, and after a moment more of pressing her nose to the cold glass she scampered down the narrow hall that led to the front engine room.

She had to go. They had to let her! She was a year wiser now, and at the ripe old age of thirteen the girl was, without a doubt, smarter than most of the adults. Ducking around a cooling tank, instead of running into the private corner given to her, she ran headlong into Benton, the Empress’ First Engineer.

“Hold up there, kiddo!” said the middle aged man, grunting from the impact and catching his apprentice by the shoulders before she could backpedal into a low hanging pipe. “Where ya goin’ in such a hurry?”

“N-Nowhere!” she chimed quickly, a stupid grin smeared across her freckled face.

“Nowhere’s right!” Benton boomed with a laugh, shifting the straps that held his blasters to his back. “This one’s a mean one. Need ya to keep tucked away in your bunk till we’re on our way again.”

“But I –”

“Captains orders!”

Jenny huffed and jutted out her lower lip in a pout. “I can play the game just as well as any one of them!”

“But in action it’s more than that! You run yer mouth, kiddo, and it’s gonna get you an’ everyone else shot! Now,” Benton turned and pointed to the curtained off corner, “in ya go.”

“But I –”

“ – am goin’ in!”

There was no winning with the man. Rolling her eyes and grumbling loudly enough so that her compliance was not mistaken for agreement, Jenny stomped past Benton and the pulled back curtain to plop onto her cot. “Ye’ happy now?”

Benton nodded curtly, shooting her a scolding glance before turning to head for the heavy metal door. “You move from that spot till I get back an’ you’re gonna be scrubbin’ toilets fer a month!”

Jenny didn’t so much as twitch as she listened to the door close behind him. Her hands tightened on the cot’s edge as she tilted her ear to the ceiling, and the faint echo of his departing footsteps was soon drowned out by the humming of the engine.

In a flash she was up, pulling her belt and little holstered pistols out from under her bedding. Fitting on an ear-bud, she flipped her datachron to ‘receive only’ and clambered into the service shaft. Ever since the Empress started running intercept missions to help cover the tracks of Exile ships that were on the run she had plotted, till one day she realized that when the enemy ship docked there was a space between the two insulated walls that was just big enough for the gangly red-head to slip through.

Quick as an Aurin, she ascended the air vent and slipped through the maze of maintenance tunnels to wait just below the grate at the appointed door. The ships would connect, the hall pressurized, then she would have exactly thirty-six seconds to clamber out and get across into the enemy vessel to have the lowest probability of being seen. After all, what was wrong with a little sabotage? She hadn’t gotten caught yet, and like they say, third time’s a charm.

A pair of deckhands jogged by inches above her head, and disappeared only a moment before the faint sound of the steel locks around the space-door clicking into place echoed in the chamber where she hid. She balanced on her toes, crouched and wound tight, ready to spring. Then came the abrupt sigh and long hiss of fresh air being flushed into the bridge. Jenny drew a deep breath to steady her shaking hands, and began to count.