“Tory, sit down,” growled Cutler. “We still have a chance, but not if you put a hole in the hull!”
Tory glanced back at Cutler, and then at his pistol. “I’m going to put a hole in this asshole, not the ship. But shoot me if you want. I don’t give a shit anymore.”
With Tory’s head turned, Griff saw his chance. With seconds to act, he unclipped his harness and threw himself at Tory, tackling her to the deck. There was a sudden, deafening crack as the revolver fired, and for a second, Griff thought he was hit. Then the console behind him erupted into sparks and flames, and alarms rang out inside the cockpit.
Griff clambered off the deck, with Tory still lying stunned beneath him. He grabbed the ID fob that had fallen out of Tory’s hand when she fell, and staggered between the two main seats.
“Go, quickly!” Griff yelled, holding the ID fob to the initiator. The device snapped into place, and he heard the drive systems begin to cycle online. However, Cutler was just scowling down at the navigation scanner. “Cutler, what the hell are you waiting for?!” Griff cried again, shaking the mercenary’s shoulders, “the drives are online. Go!”
Cutler brushed Griff’s hands away angrily, “Wait… the alien vessel is no longer tracking us,” he yelled back, before pulsing the thrusters to push them into a subtly different trajectory. “It now appears to be merely drifting towards us.”
Griff peered down at the navigation scanner, and saw that Cutler was right. The alien vessel was no longer tracking their movements. “What did you do?” Griff asked, feeling the grip of terror relax its hold on him slightly.
Cutler shook his head, then leveled off the controls and throttled back. The alien ship continued on, making no further attempts to match their course. “I don’t know. I did nothing, at least nothing I am aware of. But it appears that the danger is past.”
“The danger is past?” repeated Griff, sounding incredulous. “We don’t know that!”
“Control yourself, Inspector,” Cutler hit back. His disdain was clear, just as it had been when Cutler had lost his cool on the alien station. Cutler then removed his harness and moved out in front of Tory. She had landed hard, but was now sitting up, back pressed against the bulkhead, looking at Cutler.
“Did you hear that, Tory?” said Cutler. He was aiming his pistol carefully at Tory’s head, to avoid the protection offered by her armored jacket. “We’re in the clear. So, everyone can relax.”
Tory stood up slowly, with Cutler tracking her all the way. She glanced over at the navigation scanner on Cutler’s console, which confirmed his statement, then met Cutler’s eyes again. “I meant what I said, Cutler. I’m never going back to the Council. If I have to take you all down with me, I will, believe me.”
“I believe you,” replied Cutler. Then he turned his head fractionally towards Griff, and said, “Inspector Griff, please set us back on a course towards the moon. We have work to do.”
Griff couldn’t believe what he was hearing. After what had just happened, he had no intention of steering the ship back towards the moon. “Are you insane? There could be more of those things out there!” he said, looking back into the mercenary’s eyes. However, Cutler had again placed a tight lid on his emotions, and all Griff saw was calm determination. Still, Cutler wasn’t the one calling the shots, and it pissed him off that he again had to remind the mercenary of that fact.
“This is my mission, Cutler,” Griff said, jabbing a nicotine-stained finger at him. “And I order you to head back through the portal! Let the RGF fleet check out this system first. We can always find another portal, and another wreck!”
Cutler’s eyes narrowed fractionally, before he pointed back to the console next to Griff’s seat. It was still crackling and smoldering gently, as a result of Tory’s wayward shot. “I’m afraid that isn’t going to be possible anymore, Inspector,” Cutler added.
Griff frowned and looked back at the console. “Shit!” he cursed, while dropping down on his knees in front of the damaged device. Tory had put a hole directly through the glass window. “This thing is ruined,” he said, digging out the fractured glass so he could get a clearer look inside. Then he shook his head despairingly. “And the bullet has cracked the crystal in half too.” His head fell forward. His temples were throbbing, and it felt like needles were being pushed into his eyeballs. Wash was going to kill him when she found out, he realized. However, one system under RGF control was still better than nothing. And maybe the RGF techs could repair the device. Maybe he could still salvage something from this mess.
“Ironically, perhaps the destruction of the device is what saved us,” said Cutler.
“How do you figure that, genius?” snapped Griff, pulling himself up into the more comfortable pilot’s seat, while still massaging his temples.
“The alien vessel broke off its pursuit the moment the device went offline. Perhaps it was drawn to it, like a moth to a flame.”
Tory huffed a laugh, “So, what you’re saying is that I just saved everyone’s life?” Then she cocked her head towards Cutler. “Maybe you should be thanking me, rather than pointing that little pea shooter at my head?”
Cutler’s expression remained serious, “Without that device, we can’t open another portal,” he continued, fixing Tory with an unblinking stare. “Which means that the moon out there is our only chance to score something worthwhile.”
Griff shook his head again. “Our percentage of all claims from this system will dwarf anything we can grab before the RGF fleet arrives. We head back while we still can. That’s an order!”
“I think we are all past the point of taking orders from you, Inspector,” said Cutler. He was much calmer now, and his surly, monotone delivery had returned. “Our situation is bleak. And I cannot risk that your precious Superintendent Wash will renege on our agreement,” Cutler went on, though he was still aiming the pistol at Tory. “And even if she honors the bargain, it could be months before those payments reach us. The Council will have found us all long before then.”
Griff silently cursed. From Cutler’s perspective, what he’d said was true. He couldn’t be sure that Wash would honor her agreement, even to him. However, the difference with Cutler and Tory was that they weren’t RGF, and he was. The RGF failed at many things, but taking care of their own was not one of them. He needed to get back to the portal, and back to safety. Even without a score from the new portal world, his best chance of survival was to get back to Wash, and spin it as best he could. Yet he also knew that Cutler was laying out these facts not for his benefit, but for Tory’s. Despite being held at gunpoint, if Tory agreed to follow Cutler, he’d be outnumbered and outvoted.
“So, what’s it to be, Tory?” asked Cutler, after an anxious silence. “Will you join with me for one last hunt? Then we shall both be rich enough to part ways, amicably. Or shall we go back and face the Council with nothing?”
Tory folded her arms. She was still wild, but she no longer looked like a hungry wolf that was being dragged away from its kill. “Okay, so we go to the moon and take what we can,” said Tory. Then she bent down and picked up her antique Colt Frontier Six-Shooter. Griff held his breath again as she grasped the weapon, but let it out slowly as the mercenary slid it back into her holster. “But after this, you and me are done. Understood?”