Chapter 23: Dominia

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Clear space was a bitch.

To be fair, there was really no such thing as clear space. Space was littered with debris. But when trying to evade capture, space devoid of planets, nebulae, solar storms, or asteroid belts really kind of did qualify as clear space. There was nowhere to hide. And the space between Peleteth and the Sophia's chosen point of crossing the quarantine line was practically empty.

Amy had had a Guardship on her tail from Peleteth with no way to shake it. She was a much better pilot, with a much more responsive ship; every time she took the Sfera into a nosedive or upward spiral and the Guardship tried to follow, she gained several minutes in pulling out of the manoeuver quickly and shooting ahead while the poor Commissioner pilot fumbled his way along and got back on track. But she couldn't get out of visual range of the damn thing.

Though she supposed it didn't really matter; she only needed to evade capture long enough to distract the ships in the vicinity of the Sophia. She just hadn't factored in trailing an extra ship.

She double-checked the Sophia's coordinates as a Commissioner frigate pinged on her dashboard. Expanded her sensors, she spotted a smaller sweeper ship further up the line. She'd passed three other ships in the last hour, just on the edge of her sensor range, and the curve of the quarantine line was a bright red bubble always at the corner of her vision.

"Right then," she murmured, noting the distance between the Sfera and her Guardship tail. "Time to put this plan into motion."

She tipped the controls up and the Sfera shot forward. Putting the little ship into a spin, Amy blazed straight for the frigate, pulling up just before the Sfera's nose would have impacted the frigate's hull, and then sent the Sfera skimming along the surface of the other ship. The comm light began blinking frantically on her instrument panel. She ignored it and rolled away, brushing against the quarantine bubble before darting towards the Guardship. She looped the slower vessel and then buzzed the frigate again. The comm light continued to blink, and after a moment her emergency comm light began to flash as well.

She stabbed the button with her thumb and spun the Sfera upwards. "Need something?"

"Pilot of Sfera craft, this is the Commissioner frigate Dominia. You are in violation of quarantine protocols. Power down your engines and prepare to be taken into custody."

"Go to hell," she said pertly.

She cut the comm and dive-bombed the frigate, flipping it off on the off chance anyone could actually see her, and then checked the message that had just popped up on her instrument panel—gibberish. The Sophia was headed across the line. She started a timer and made a wide loop around the sweeper, pulling it into the chase, before returning her attention to the frigate.

The Commissioner ships were reluctant to move from their posts, but she needed them to follow her into sanctioned space in order for the Sophia to get across undetected. Zipping back and forth across the quarantine bubble like she was sewing stitches, she finally succeeded in pulling both the frigate and the sweeper off the line. She kept an eye on the timer; she knew approximately how long it would take the Sophia to get over and out of sensor range, and she also knew approximately when the Commissioner ships' sensors would blip as the Sophia crossed the line. Keeping up her efforts, she drew the three ships further and further from the quarantine bubble, until well after the Sophia was over.

And then she allowed herself to be captured.

The flight deck of the Dominia summoned a host of memories. As a child, Amy had spent countless hours on Commissioner flight decks—nearly all dirtside, of course, but they all looked pretty much the same. A remote pilot had taken control of her little ship and brought it into the frigate once she'd surrendered. She recognized the technology. Her father had both loved and hated it, and she understood the feeling. It removed the need for grappling hooks, which could severely damage a ship if improperly deployed, but the remote piloting tech always felt like such an affront to the person sitting in the actual pilot's seat.

As soon as the Sfera's doors opened and a Guard pulled her out of the cockpit, Amy realized she had a problem. The captain of the Dominia was standing on the flight deck, waiting to greet her, hands clasped behind his back, standing stiff and straight as though he had a poker strapped to his spine. She knew him, in a previous life, when she was Annieka Brenner. Captain Terrance Ashdown had been stationed with her father twenty years earlier, when they were both lieutenants on Idylla.

She could tell as soon as Ashdown's eyes met hers that he recognized her. True, he hadn't seen her since she was in her late teens, but she looked too much like her parents for anyone who had known them both to not recognize her.

"Well," Ashdown said after a moment. "This is a surprise. I was expecting high rank, but I certainly wasn't expecting you to step out of that ship."

Amy tugged her arm free of the Guard's and listed to the side. "Why, Captain Ashdown," she said with pleasure, slurring her words. "What an unexpected delight."

He studied her, eyes narrowed, and then said, "You crossed an official quarantine line, several times. Were you aware of that?"

She shrugged carelessly. "Dunno. What's it matter?"

"I'm curious as to what you were doing buzzing the line in a stolen ship," he said, leading her towards the end of the flight deck. "Does your father know you're lifting Sferas these days?"

Shaking her head, she said, "Well, no..." She noted the threadbare carpets and battered bulkheads as Ashdown walked her along the corridor. The Dominia might present as threatening from the outside, but inside she looked like she was just holding herself together. "You're not going to tell him, are you?"

"In here, please." Ashdown opened a door and ushered Amy into a room with a bed. She flopped down and watched as he perched on the edge of the desk, his eyes on hers. "Annieka, you've stolen a ship from a powerful political family and have committed multiple acts of aggression against the Commission by breaching the quarantine line. These are not charges to be taken lightly." He hesitated, and then said gently, "Don't you think you're a little old for these antics? Last I heard you'd gone away to the University. Shouldn't you be doing something with your life by now?"

Amy looked away, letting resentment show on her face. "What's it matter?" she asked sourly. "Once a rich kid, always a rich kid. It's in the blood."

Ashdown frowned, and then said, "Under normal circumstances, you would be turned over to the Commissioner Guard, arrested, and eventually tried. However, given who your father is...I think it's best if I deliver you to him instead." She opened her mouth to protest. "Annieka, I have to do something with you," he said sharply. "I'm not sure if you were planning on trading on your family's name to avoid punishment, but I'm not going to let you go just because you're Seamus Brenner's daughter." He pushed himself to his feet and walked to the door. His hand on the open button, he glanced back at her and said, "Turning you over to your father will, in the end, be a far more desirable punishment than anything you would discover in the criminal justice system." He stepped out into the corridor and turned to look at her. "I'm going to lock you in, Annieka, because in the end I'm afraid you are a prisoner on the Dominia. If you need anything, you may call for someone. In the meantime, get some rest. I'll let you know when we arrive on C-Prime."

The door hissed closed behind him. Amy sat up and did a quick scan for internal surveillance. Much to her surprise, she found none—another indicator that the Commission was stretched beyond its means.

With a deep breath, she settled back on the bed, her hands behind her head, and smiled bleakly.

The Dominia was taking her exactly where she needed to go. 

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