The docks remained quiet, as the last of the cargo was exported from one ship to another. Gilda sat on a crate watching as her crew handled the packages with delicate care. Pony and zebra dock workers took the packages and stuffed them in metal cargo crates, all of which going to the farthest expanses of Alliance space, losing the trail slowly as they travelled from system to system. Gilda smiled at the work being done. More jobs like this and the dream might be within her grasp in the next two years.
“You did a good job,” the bipedal A.I. said to Gilda. It’s slender arms crossed its chest as it watched the crews exchange cargo. It’s voice wasn’t annoyingly choppy like most of its model, most likely due to an upgrade of vocal systems. It served as the dock master for the station. “You will be paid handsomely for a job well done.”
“We went through a lot of trouble for that stuff,” Gilda replied. “I expect and handsome payment for the work put into that stuff.”
“Trust me, my master will reward you with the utmost gratitude.”
“Alright captain!” Elise yelled. “We’re good to go!”
Gilda extended a claw. “Thank you for doing business.”
“It is I who must thank you.”
The two shook hands and Gilda left to her ship at a leisurely pace, signalling for the rest of the crew to board. “Alright guys, it’s time to go!”
In a matter of seconds, the crew gathered at the cargo bay doors and walked into the ship. The engines lit up, glowing a brilliant blue before raising off the metal ground and launching itself from the station’s cargo bay and into the deep void of space. Gilda looked back at the station from the bridge’s starboard window. “Jester! Jump us outta here!”
“Another job well done boys!” Gilda raised her glass of brandy with triumph, smiling as her small crew cheered and raised theirs as well, drinking as soon as the glass met her beak. Her throat burned slightly as the liquid poured down her throat. The ship’s bar was dimly lit, barely illuminating the space around the circular table. The buzzing of the ship’s thousand year old ventilation system resonated through the ship, the heat it was ejecting keeping everything from freezing up. Gilda slammed the glass on the table, shaking the bottles and cups behind the counter. “And let’s not forget the fine women who made all of this possible.”
“You think Gjallarhorn’ll pay us the promised amount this time?” Amber asked, raising her eyebrow and playing with the bandages around her brown hoof, just below the sleeve of her black under armor. She was a frail mare with no signs of age on her whole body. Her mane draped over her eyes sloppily, her baby blue eyes visible only through cracks if the strands of hair. Where most saw an innocent unicorn who used to work the gardens of Zenia, Gilda knew a cold and, often, distant crewmate with a social disability. Amber levitated her glass and took a long sip of it before looking at the others, who were much too busy celebrating to acknowledge her question. “Remember last time?”
“Frankly,” Gilda spoke in between swigs of brandy, taking a moment to think about her answer. “I don’t care. He promised a hefty amount for smuggling that crap last time. If anything, he’ll give us sixty thousand credits instead of the full seventy thousand. As long as he pays up.”
The Barden drifted slowly through hyperspace, engines almost pushing themselves to the absolute limit. She was a cargo transport ship, retrofitted with weapons with enough firepower to temporarily disable a cruiser. That’s assuming what the shipwright in Satera Station was telling the truth. The addition of weapon batteries in the old cargo bay meant less space for the more valuable shipments, which resulted in a loss of pay for making only a partial shipment, but Gilda was pleased with the progress they were making. Thirty thousand credits were paid to buy the ship and Gilda knew for certain, with the modifications she made to it, she could easily sell it at the nearest station for another fifty thousand credits. Money like that would give her a small colony ship and another five crew members if they were lucky. Maybe she could actually put the weapon batteries to good use instead of having them there for show.
Instead the plan was to buy a mammoth class industrial ship, keep the current crew with maybe three more additions and upgrade the cargo bays with robotic workers and arms on assembly lines producing goods instead of having to buy them. At that point, Gilda and the crew could even produce drones to mine on remote planets and moons. It was a dream she had since coming across her first crewmate.
Gilda shot up from her seat, the leather-like material of her under armor hugging her broad frame tightly as she stepped behind the counter to pour herself another drink. As she carefully poured the brandy she looked to her left, looking sullenly at the bot huddled in the corner, tightly curling its legs to its chest. “Gonna miss the bartender when we sell this junker.”
“We could always retrofit the next ship with a bar and bring him along.” Sunset said, brushing her scarlet and gold mane away from her eyes with a hoof, taking a swig of water. Sunset wasn’t a mare for alcohol, contrary to popular belief. Sunset Shimmer was the first to hop on board The Barden as both a friend and a crew member. Since then, if Gilda wasn’t fit to command the crew, she was second in command. “Mount him on the wall for good memories or something.”
Gilda thought about it. It was grim at best, the remainder of an old ship being a dead robot bartender. “I don’t know about that Sunset. I’d like to think there’s something else here that’ll signify where we came from. We could always repair him or something.”
“Oh come on, Gilda,” Sunset declaimed with a smile. “Did you hear the jokes that thing told? Or even the poor attempts at conversation? It’s better off scrapped for parts or exchanged for a bot with a better processor.”
“Yeah, but he’s been with us since the beginning,” Gilda replied on her way back to the round table. “Since you and I started out in the smugglin’ business.”
“And what did I say when we first got him?” Sunset twirled her glass in the air with a smug smile on her face.
Gilda sighed. “He’s only gonna last about two months.”
“And how long have we had him?”
“Whatever, like I said, we could just exchange him.”
“Sorry boss,” Elise joined, plucking a feather dusty grey feather from her head. “But, I have to agree with Shims on this one. But hey! Who cares? We’re gonna get our money and we’re selling this thing for a bigger ship and crew. Literally, it’s all smooth sailing from here.”
“Let’s just keep ourselves in the present for now,” Gilda said. “We’ve got a lot on our plate already. I think we earned some well-deserved shore leave at Haven.”
The small crew cheered and drank to the idea. Gilda felt pride as she watched her crew finally smile. Most of her pride came from actually spending time with her crew and not being just the captain. Gilda let her wings stretch out as much as possible as she sat back against the leather seat, yawning loudly.
“Captain,” Rouge digitized from three spheres rolling along the floor. The projection of the ship A.I. mimicked walking with its back straight and wings constantly curled up to its side. Gilda frowned at the sight of it. “Comm room hailed for you.”
“Who is it?” Gilda asked with annoyance in her voice and refusing eye contact with the artificial intelligence.
“Julius ma’am. He requested to see the rest of the crew as well. Shall I tell him you are busy?”
The room ceased all actions. Glasses slammed on the table and seats squeaked under the weight of the uneasy crewmembers and their shifting. Gilda’s jaw set at the sound of silence overtaking the room, waiting for her to make a decision. The smart thing to do would be to leave Julius hanging, but everyone knew that that option was out of the equation. Gilda’s eyes scanned the room and noted the two ponies and two griffons awaiting her answer.
She looked at Rouge, disgust in her eyes and the frown growing bigger. “We’ll talk to him. C’mon crew, let’s make this quick.”
The cacophony of hooves, talons and paws against the metal floor made Gilda uneasy. The scratching of her talons made her shiver and the shushed voices of her crew made the air feel colder. She looked at the door leading to the bridge, wide open and teasing her with the glows of monitors and Jester sitting alone in the cockpit beyond them.The comm room was a small space, split in half by a single railing separating Gilda from the caller’s holographic form. Three circular platforms on the ground were flanked on all sides by projectors, much like the spheres rolling around to project Rouge’s long, slender form.
Gilda pressed a button along the rails and waited while her and her crew were scanned by the room’s recognition system. After what seemed like hours, the murmurs stopped and Julius’s projection illuminated the room.
“Captain Gilda,” Julius spoke. Even through the effects of the speaker system, his voice was still raspy and gravely like he had never had a drink his whole life. Julius was an austere griffon, whose many features were hidden by a thick veil of feathers almost acting as a beard. Gilda heard enough rumors about him home on Satera Station to know his appearance easily complimented the sinister actions he was known for. Although they were just rumors, Gilda would never admit to actually be daunted by the griffon. “Congratulations on the success of your latest smuggling run.”
“Much appreciated.” Gilda nodded with a fake smile painted on her face.
“The credits for the run have been uploaded to your database and you should receive them within the next hour or two once the transaction has completely been processed. It is the full payment for the mission.” He gazed over the grinning faces of the members of The Barden with indifference. “Despite this, Gjallarhorn has another request for you, if you would be willing to hear it.”
Gilda’s heart dropped and she grit her teeth and kept her face still and stern. She turned and faced Sunset who looked back with uncertainty, but ultimately nodded her head. Gilda cursed under her breath and looked back up at the speaker for Gjallarhorn. “Okay, what’ll it be,” She sighed with a hint of defeat and frustration. The urge to sever the connection grew stronger by the second as her team began to mutter to themselves once again. She didn’t hear what they were saying, but it was certainly a matter of their next shore leave.
“Gjallarhorn has placed a bounty for the execution of the Spectre Mercenary Company—more specifically, the leader—”
“Rainbow Dash,” Gilda closed her eyes and hung her head. “Yeah. Fuck.”
“You mustn’t let personal experiences cloud your judgement in the matter.” Julius acknowledged Gilda’s sullen expression. “She is to be wiped off the face of the galaxy. I don’t care how she dies, but we will need proof of her death. Mission reward is will be five hundre—”
“No!” Sunset yelled. She froze, realizing her outburst, but looked over to Gilda. “Captain, we’re just smugglers, there’s no way we’re taking this job!”
“Sunset!” Gilda roared. She returned her vision to the projection of Julius. “What’s the pay?”
“Five hundred thousand credits, for the bounty. Be weary that you aren’t the only one hunting for Rainbow Dash’s head,” Julius readjusted his stance. “Gjallarhorn has contacted other groups such as yourselves for this assignment.”
“Why contact us, then?” Sunset inquired. “We’re just smugglers. Not assassins or...or bounty hunters.”
“Gjallarhorn’s orders. That plus the personal connection with Gilda and Rainbow Dash and there’s an easy solution. Assuming Gilda can reestablish contact, the job should take no more than a week or less.”
Gilda stared off into the space between herself and Julius. The name stuck in her head, repeating itself like a broken record Rainbow Dash, Rainbow Dash. Since she entered the smuggling business and Gjallarhorn took her and her unit in, Rainbow Dash had just seemed to be a part of the background of life and never moved out of that position in Gilda’s life. Gilda didn’t even know if Rainbow was aware of anything she had done in the past two years since they’d last talked to each other through video chat. “Do I have to give my answer now?”
Sunset looked back at the captain rapidly. “You’re not...”
“No, you don’t,” Julius said with a crooked semblance of a smile. “I’ll be awaiting your response. If you’ll excuse me, I have more business to attend to.”
With that, the griffon vanished, the blue projectors still lit the spot where he once stood. Gilda stared up at the blank space with anger before turning away and slamming her fist against the door’s control console, cursing under huffs. Anger seethed from every pore of her body as she opened the door to the ship’s elevator. Before the door could close completely, Sunset’s hoof stopped the doors. She looked at Gilda with a mix of disbelief and vexation. The rest of the crew looked at the two, but took to the bridge and shut the door behind them “Did you really just consider that offer?”
“We’re going to need the money if we want to branch out.” Gilda pulled a cigarette from her suit’s pocket and sparked it up. “Remember the dream?”
“Yeah, I remember the dream.” Sunset nodded stepping into the lift and letting the doors slam close. “But it never consisted of killing ponies for money! And one of your friends no less!”
“I don’t know what we’re going to do!” Gilda admitted. “We just....I need to think about our next move. We’re going to need the money.”
Sunset frowned.
“Look, we’re going to stop at Haven and while we’re there, we’ll figure everything out, alright?”
Sunset scanned Gilda, the frown still on her face. Eventually, she sighed. “Fine.”
