Survivor Skills

Chapter 1-2

La’Rue Gant flipped up the visor of her welding helmet, looked at the circuit panel for a moment, then took off the helmet and turned toward the storage unit. In the background, loud music played. While it might not be the smartest thing in the world to do at the moment, La’Rue had never really cared what anyone else thought. She lived by one rule – hers.

“Which isn’t such a bad idea, La’Rue darling,” she muttered to herself, “considering you are on a planet of assassins. Why not go to a place where the residents would love to slit your throat just for the fun of watching you bleed out? But, hey, it might be more profitable for them to hand me over to Bog. My face is probably plastered on every screen in the galaxy. f**k Slate and his f*****g thirty thousand credits owed.”

She wouldn’t be in this mess if she had listened to her head instead of her gut. Yeah, it was way messed up and should have been the other way around. Her gut was what had kept her alive this long, but this time she swore her internal warning system was fried.

“You just had to listen in on a secure transmission. You should have ignored it, La’Rue. People who cross the Legion end up dead. If anyone knows that, it should be you. Then, being the really smart person that you are, you decide you need to follow one of the signals that they were talking about – to Turbinta! Who the hell lands their escape pod on a planet full of assassins? I’ll tell you who, the same kind of dumbass who lands their freighter and burns up their front shields in the process, that’s who,” she muttered.

For the past two years she had been monitoring both the rebel groups and the Legion. Lifting a hand, she wiped her nose on her long sleeve. Even with the environmental system working, she could still feel the chill in the air.

“The rebels have to be on to something this time,” she said as she replaced the helmet and welder in the storage unit. She paused with her hand on a wrench and glanced at the circuit panel, a frown creasing her brow. “They have to be, otherwise why would the Legion be going crazy? Andronikos’s prize Commander wouldn’t have come here himself if he wasn’t worried.”

La’Rue shook her head and moved back to the circuit board, wrench in hand. She replaced the panel and tightened the bolts. Twirling the wrench in her hand, her lips twisted as she looked around the small but nimble freighter. It was the last of her heritage, a gift from her father. Sure, it hadn’t worked when he’d given it to her, but it did now thanks to years of hard work, more daring cargo runs than she would admit, and a few high-stakes wins at the gaming tables.

Unfortunately, she might have pissed off a few of her lenders when she had turned out to be a little savvier than they’d been expecting and had actually paid them off with her winnings. Her goal was to never have to borrow credits again, and one way to do that was to earn a lot – by cashing in on what the Legion wanted. If she could find even one of the strange pods the Legion was talking about, she could live off the reward for a couple of years. She could ditch the lower end freighter runs, upgrade the Star Runner, and kiss Slate and his band of despicable, thieving pirates goodbye once and for all.

Her eyes darkened with anger and determination. She wasn’t about to lose her only way of making a living because Slate had decided to put up her ship as collateral for his bad decisions. She had argued that the debt wasn’t hers, but unfortunately, Bog didn’t want to listen. Slate had used her thumb imprint to guarantee the loan.

She grumbled to herself as she stowed the wrench in the storage unit, then strode through the freighter, ducking her head under a low hanging conduit. HL-9 followed her. She turned at the end of the corridor and bent to open a hatch. Pulling it back, she waited for the ladder to rise before she slid down. HL-9 gripped the ladder with four of his legs on each side, and slid down behind her.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back, H. However long it takes, I guess. You have the position of the signal, right?” La’Rue asked. She glanced at the eight-legged bot before she turned and pulled open a storage compartment. “Where is the long barrel? Argh, I bet Slate took it. I have only two of the short barrels left and one of them doesn’t work,” she groaned, letting her head fall back to stare up at the ceiling in frustration.

La’Rue ground her teeth together before she looked down and made a face at HL-9. Slate had a lot to answer for and she planned on making sure that he did – if she survived this crazy quest of hers.

Opening the second cabinet, she pulled out the holster and the blaster that had belonged to her dad. Pursing her lips together, she swung the holster belt around her waist and tightened it. She pulled out the broken blaster and tossed it to the service bot.

“See if you can fix this while I’m gone,” she said as she turned and pulled out a waterproof slicker and cap. “Let’s hope I don’t run into anyone. One lousy blaster meant for shooting field rodents isn’t going to do me much good against a well-trained assassin.”

La’Rue pulled on the slicker, sealing it over her black pants and shirt. Her matching black boots went almost to her knees and would protect her feet. Tucking the loose strands of her red hair into the cap, she pulled the padded strap tight under her chin. She grabbed the goggles and a stun rod last.

“I look like I’m ready to go out to harvest fields instead of hunting for a mysterious pod on a planet full of assassins. I swear if a Turbintan sees me dressed like this, they’ll die from laughter,” La’Rue grumbled to her only companion. “Don’t let anything happen to my freighter, H.”

The small bot flashed its multiple eyes at her to let her know that it understood her order. La’Rue released a long, loud sigh before she stepped into the circle on the floor and reached up to press the green button on the control panel attached to one of the support brackets. Within seconds, the platform she was standing on descended under the freighter.

La’Rue jumped off the round platform and landed on the soggy ground, wincing at the splat sound. She pressed the remote on her wrist cuff, scanning the area as she pulled her goggles down. There was nothing out there – she hoped.

“H, show me the best path to the signal,” La’Rue softly ordered.

The display inside her goggles flickered, and a second later a map appeared. Gripping the stun rod in her hand, La’Rue left the safety of her freighter and headed out into the pounding rain on a mission to find one of the mysterious pods the Legion was so interested in locating.