The cabin was small, with only one cot and drawers that were set into the wall. Their captors had been careful enough to take everything out of them.

At first, Juden had thought they would take turns sleeping on the bed, but Warthol didn’t mind the floor. It suited him just fine.

The dark-skinned man often paced back and forth, as he did now, trying to think. The room was too cramped for him to go further than a few paces.

It was infuriating how easily they had been tricked and overpowered. That should never have happened.

They’d even taken his wristpad!

Damn them all to hell.

“I’m hungry,” said Warthol.

Juden stopped and stared at his companion who sat on the floor, in a corner of the room.

“You are always hungry.”

“We haven’t eaten in a very long time.”

While Warthol’s notion of time was a bit messed up, Juden had to agree this once he was right.

It had been a while since their captors had brought them food. Had something happened?

There were no windows here, but there was a TriVid screen. He’d tried to use it to access Imperial networks, but all external feeds had been blocked. Access to the ship itself was also impossible, but this he had expected.

However, he might be able to see outside. That should not be on the list of sensitive data.

He walked up to the wall and tapped on the screen. It flickered on, displaying a menu. Ignoring all the entertainment options, he swiped until he reached the ‘other’ item.

“Are we going to watch a holofilm?” asked Warthol. “I’d like that very much. Maybe something about food.”

Juden grunted but did not answer, focusing on his task.

With a couple more taps, he found the input settings and requested access to the outer cameras.

After a short delay, an image appeared on the screen.

They were on the landing strip of some unidentified spaceport. Those buildings he saw were gray and bleak, and there weren’t too many other ships around. He counted six, though there might be more behind the large warehouse doors on the east side.

“That’s not very interesting,” whined Warthol.

“Shut up,” said Juden, his eyes still scanning the scene.

That was when Val appeared, running out of the ship—so she had been on board after all. She began running around and shooting at the ship.

“What the hell is she doing?” he muttered.

“Hey! That’s the nice lady from before!”

“Need I remind you that the nice lady, as you say, is the one who locked us up in here?”

Warthol frowned. “Oh. Yeah.”

After circling around, Val headed back toward the hatch. Before she reached it, men came out of the spaceport gunning at her.

This was it! Their only chance to get out of this mess.

Juden turned the TriVid screen off and looked around the room for the hundredth time since they’d been locked up in here. As often before, his gaze went back to the drawers.

With a grunt, he stepped quickly over to them and pulled the one at the top open. It stopped when the far back hit the security bump. The damn thing wouldn’t come completely. He’d already tried to pry it out with all his strength, but to no avail. He stepped away and glanced back at his friend.

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“Warthol...”

“Yes?”

“Could you do me a favor?”

The big man brightened. “What do you need?”

Juden pointed at the open drawer. “Pull on this as hard as you can. I need it to come out.”

Warthol stood and moved closer. Without even studying the thing, he grabbed the handle and pulled on it hard. With a loud crack, the bump broke along with a chunk of the drawer.

Juden blinked, then laughed as he grabbed the remaining piece that the large man was holding out to him.

“Thanks, buddy.” He looked it over, thinking. Glanced at the door and the control panel next to it. “Think you could break it apart?”

Warthol frowned. “I don’t understand.”

Juden looked at him and pointed at the drawer. “I only need a small piece of selite. I don’t care which part of the drawer it comes from.”

“Oh.”

The big man grabbed a side panel with both hands and forced one toward him while the other pushed. The material cracked but held. Warthol added pressure and a crack appeared on the surface. With one final tug, he tore a piece off the drawer and handed it to the dark-skinned man.

Juden grinned as he grabbed it, slapping his friend on the back with his other hand.

“Your strength never ceases to amaze me. Alright. Let’s see what we can do with this...”

He walked up to the door and studied the control panel for a moment. He knew these things had a soft spot—especially on older ships like this one. If he hit it just the right way, it would fry the locking mechanism and force the door to slide open. Something like this would not be possible in a cell, of course, but this was not a cell. There was no security here. Or rather, the lack of security was the security. After all, shipbuilders and shipowners would not want passengers to find themselves trapped. Breaking the panel would have to, by necessity, unlock the door.

The tricky part was to hit it just the right way.

He lifted the piece of drawer and brought it down hard on the panel.

Sparks flew as the controls flashed and fizzled. A slight burning smell tickled his nostrils.

He stepped back just as the door opened.

“Oh!” cried out Warthol. “How did you do that?”

Juden threw the piece of selite to the floor and stepped into the hall.

“Come on, buddy, let’s go take control of this ship.”

The last time he’d tried, the AI had refused to cooperate. He doubted it would act differently now. Well then, he’d have to step up his game. He’d tried to play nice. That was over. He was taking the gloves off. It might damage the ship, but so be it. He’d deal with Bregg’s temper later. Right now, they needed to get out of here. Before the others returned.

As they walked down the hall, the lights turned off throughout the ship.

“Powering off again, eh?” he muttered to himself as he clenched his fists. “We’ll see about that.”

“Hey! Juden!”

“What?” he asked irritably.

“I think I saw something move behind us.”

Juden spun around and squinted.

“There’s nothing there.”

“It was small. Maybe a child.”

Juden rolled his eyes. “A child? Did Val or Kaine look like children to you?”

“Maybe they have a kid?”

“They just met, you doofus!”

He slapped Warthol on the back of his head.

“Ow!”

Juden snorted. “Stop being a baby. You didn’t even feel that.” He turned and started walking again. “Come on. I don’t know how much time we have. We need to hurry.”

They made their way to the control room and Juden sat in the pilot’s seat. He slid open a glass panel. Inside the compartment was a small black button.

“Alright then, here goes nothing...”

He pressed the button.

The screen in front of him lit up and a text appeared, prompting him for a secret code.

While they had been chasing the ship, Juden had read everything he could find on the Corvairs. The manual had explained there were two levels of passwords. One that could be set by the owner, another that would do a ‘factory reset.’ The latter, however, would erase all of the AI’s memories, bringing it back to its default parameters. It could also damage some of the more sensitive components of the ship, as resetting an AI could stress the system in ways that it was not designed to withstand. For all these reasons, it was advised to only use the reset code as a last resort.

Juden had memorized that code.

With a deep breath, he typed it in.

The screen went black and everything went quiet.

Then all the lights flickered back on across the ship.

A dozen screens above the dashboard showed what was going on outside, all around the ship. And they were still shooting out there.

Juden grinned.

“AI! Take us off this damn planet.”

Nothing.

He frowned.

“AI, can you hear me?”

Still nothing.

“What the hell...”

He checked the displays and everything seemed in order. They had power and they had control.

“What is wrong?” asked Warthol.

Juden grumbled as he glanced at the camera feed. “Not now, I need to focus.”

His hands ran over the controls, trying to remember all the details he’d read in the manual. He wished he’d had his wristpad, it would have made things easier.

He glanced again at the screens and saw Val making a run toward the ship.

“Oh no you don’t!” He hit another button and the hatch closed. “I’m done with this crap. Time to go manual.”

He tapped some commands, grabbed two sticks that rose out of the dashboard, and pulled on them.

The floor shook and the structure creaked as Starrider slowly lifted into the sky.

With a twist of his wrists, he made the ship turn its tip upward.

And then, with a thundering roar, it shot toward the stars.