The Best Laid Plans

Getting aboard the Chairman of the Board proved again to be easy. Portia and Bea lead the four uniform clad delivery men. The guards waved them through, not so much as a passing glance at the supply requisition.
Portia lead them down the corridor to an innocuous room. Quickly she bypassed the code and the doors slide open. The crew entered.
“Not exactly spacious,” Franklin said.
“It’ll do,” Bea said, making herself comfortable on the floor. “I suppose now the only thing to do is wait.”
Big Julie settled on the floor. The Weasel Man hovered over him. “Big Julie doesn’t like surprises. He is also known to get motion sick, so he sincerely hopes for no surprises or motion sickness.”
“So do we all,” Franklin said.


Three hours later the floor of the ship vibrated. It was pulling out of the docking station. Martin Ang had fulfilled his part of the bargain.
“Wait for it,” Bea said. “Any moment now. Chewing gum helps.”
“You’ve never been faster than light,” Portia said. “You don’t know it helps.”
Bea nonetheless took out of a foil wrapped stick of gum and popped it in her mouth. “Dreadful useful stuff, chewing gum, and it certainly won’t hurt.”
And then the universe seemed to…shift. Or fold into itself, which was the better way to describe the queer sensation Portia felt in the pit of her stomach, like she was being folded.
The folding lasted for an eternity. Or, according to her data pad, twenty five seconds. Long enough, either way.
“Everyone ready,” Franklin whispered.
The crew gave various grunts of agreement.
“Okay, remember the plan. Stick to the plan.”
Franklin stood up and the door slid open with a hydraulic hiss. Two hulking figures carrying rifles were outlined against the light of the corridor. A smaller figure, thin, moved between the two brutes and entered the room.
Portia shielded her eyes with her hand. She couldn’t see the face of the person approaching.
A hard hand connected with her check, ring cutting into the soft flesh. “Signed a delivered, just like promised.”
Portia knew exactly who it was.
Robin Slick grinned from ear to ear as the pirates took the crew at gunpoint and tied their hands behind their backs.
Robin reached roughly into Portia’s pockets and withdrew the sonic screwdriver and the data pad. “You certainly won’t be needing these tools of mischief,” she said.
“You sold out your own crew?” Portia asked, her eyes never leaving Robin’s face.
“Oh, I sold you out, and for a handsome profit. At first I was just peddling information about the heist but it seems there are certain persons who were very interested in your whereabouts and even more interested in your person.”
“You don’t have the whole crew,” Portia said. “Twelve is still out there.”
Robin laughed. “Twelve? Is that supposed to impress me? The man’s an idiot, a twelfth generation copy of an idiot. If he doesn’t wander in to this room in the next twenty seconds, we’ll apprehend him at the bar.”
The pirate crew of Martin Ang marched the pirate crew of Turkish to the holding cells deep in the bowels of the ship. They were placed on one large holding pen, a blue shimmering force field holding them in the cell.
“We can get out of this, right?” Franklin asked. “You can hack your way out of this blindfolded, right?”
Portia could not bear to look at Franklin. “Without my data pad, no. No tools, nothing to hack with.”
“Twelve’s still out there,” Bea said.
“We’re doomed,” Brick said.
“We are not doomed,” Franklin said. “We’re just a little destiny challenged at the moment.”
“We’re doomed.”
Five minutes of gloomy silence passed. The door to the holding pen opened.
Twelve was pushed into the cell, hands tied behind his back. Red faced and angry, he shouted, “You’re fired, Robin Slick, you bitch, and you’ll never get a good reference from me. Never!”
Franklin was livid, his face pale with anger. “What are you doing here, you great drunk fool?”
“I was lonely, so I thought to go look for Robin,” Twelve said. “She told me to wait in the ship.”
“And why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know how to fly.”
“You don’t have to know how to fly to wait in a ship!”
“Really? I seemed certain at the time. All those buttons. And we were moving.”
Bea interceded. “How was the show?”
“Really killer,” Twelve said. “Just ace.”