REDEMPTION TRAIL

Cassie's nervous hands clenched the armrests of the copilot's seat as the thrust of the dilapidated Star Saber pushed her against the backrest. The deafening rumble of the engines helped mask the creaking of the hull, though Cassie could still hear an occasional bang or clunk. She was dead-certain that the cracked windshield would collapse or that the brittle, creaking hull would buckle under the strain of the engines.
After four or five lengthy minutes of listening to the deafening roar, she noticed that the stars in front of the ship were slowly shifting from side to side. She looked at Krey, who was taking another drink of beer; his unsteady hand was wildly fighting with the stick, though the look on his face was calm and relaxed.
"Can't you hold a course?" She had to shout to be heard over the roar of the engines.
A devious smile came to Krey's face as he lowered his beer canister.
"If you think you can do any better," he shouted, "you fly it!" Then, with a smart, cocky grinhe let go of the stick.
The nose of the massive craft began to yaw hard to the left as the creaking of the hull escalated; Cassie grabbed the copilot's stick in a panic. The loud, deafening roar of the engines persisted as Cassie fought with the controls. She leaned the stick hard to the right, though the nose continued to edge toward the left.
"We're going to tumble!" she shouted in a panic. "Take it! Take it!"
"What's wrong?" Krey shouted through a smug grin, "Can't you hold a course?"
The nose of the craft continued to yaw to the left at an increasingly higher rate; panic covered Cassie's face as she leaned the stick hard to the right.
"Take it, you idiot! Take it!"
Krey reached up to the engine console and flipped a switch; the roar of the engines came to an abrupt and sudden halt. The deafening rumble was replaced by the subtle sound of the hull creaking, along with the hiss of an attitude engine, which was still responding to Cassie's stick position. The leftward yaw of the ship gradually began to slow.
"What'd you do that foryou moron!"
"It just so happens," Krey said in a calm, arrogant voice, "that I can hold a courseand probably better than most."
Cassie continued to hold the stick to the right as the leftward rotation of the craft slowly came to a stop.
"That's good," Krey said. "Just leave it there."
Cassie released the stick, then turned an angry finger to Krey.
"You knew these controls didn't workyou just did that to pump up your ego by making me look bad!"
Krey shook his head, "There's nothing wrong with the controls." He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, "The hull is warped, so the thrust isn't centered and the ship yaws to the left."
"But I had the stick all the way to the right!" Cassie argued.
"Doesn't matter; the little attitude engines up front don't hold a candle to the burners in the back. Once you get a few degrees too far to the left the slack in the hull works against you and there's no chance of recoveringother than shutting down the mains."
A look of disbelief came to Cassie's face, "The slack in the hull?... How much slack are we talking about here?"
Krey shrugged his shoulders, "Not that muchbut it's enough to push the center of gravity out of the control envelope if you don't stay on top of it."
Cassie was clearly uneasy as she thought about the dynamics of the warped, creaking hull. "Soyou have to crab to the right?"
Krey nodded as he pointed out the forward window a few degrees to the right, "Yea, a straight course is actually seven and a half degrees right of the nose. If you try to fly it straight, it will go into an unrecoverable tumble every time."
Cassie became somewhat indignant, "You didn't say anything about this when you gave me the controlsyou're just trying to make me look foolish!"
"No," Krey insisted. "I was just trying to shut you up. You have a nasty mouth and a rotten disposition." He drew an uneasy breath as he shook his head, "I don't think this arrangement is going to work. Maybe you better leave."
"It's too late for that," Cassie argued.
Krey glanced out the window at the mooring orbit below, "We're in a half-way stable orbit; you could go down to your stolen tug, pump some fuel out of my tanks, and take it back to the UN. I'll wait until your clear before I engage the time distortion engine."
Cassie glanced at her watch; there was less than ten minutes left before their extended grace period ran out, and she could not extend it any further. She looked at Krey and emphatically shook her head.
"No chanceI paid for this trip with fuel. You owe me a ride to Theti and I'm not about to let you worm your way out of it."
"Fair enough. Just rememberI'm the captain, you're the crew."
There was a pause as Krey lifted his beer canister and drained the last few swallows. He lowered the empty canister with a belch, then handed it to Cassie.
"Here," He said with a smug grin, "Get rid of this empty and fetch me another beer. I'll get the time distortion engine ready for the transition."
Cassie was noticeably irritated as she snatched the canister out of Krey's hand, "Yes, captain. Whatever you say, captain." She started to grumble about the less-than- ideal circumstances as she started down the rope toward the refrigerator.
Perfect, Krey thought.

Cassie was still stewing about the exchange as she stuffed the empty beer canister in a trash bag, which was floating at the end of a short tether tied to the refrigerator. She could hardly imagine enduring the long, three or four-day trip in the company of someone so irresponsible and arrogant.
"What does he know?" she muttered as she opened the refrigerator.
Cassie reached in and pulled out a beer, then slammed the door in anger.
"He thinks he's so smarthe doesn't know shit."
Cassie reached for the rope, then started to make her way back to the flight controls.
The whole affair grated at her; it was not just the thought of being subordinate under Krey that irritated hershe was also disappointed with herself. After all, it was her own doing that brought her to that rope, towing a beer for someone with a fraction of her intelligence. She kept thinking about the carefully-crafted plan that was suppose to grant her an easy exile; and how miserably it failed.
Still, the cufflets on her wrist were a constant reminder of the overall purpose of the flight; at least she would not have to spend time in a bleak holding canister for her crime. All she had to do was hold out for three or four days with this idiot, then she would once again be free to seek the isolation that she had become accustomed to. She just hoped that she could keep her case of Tripolean Syndrome concealed in the mean time.

Krey's eyes focused on a cluster of engine instruments while his thoughts focused on the rude stranger, whom he suddenly found himself stuck with. There was something incredibly peculiar about her, though he couldn't put his finger on it. He thought back to the stolen service tug; she certainly pulled that off without a hitch. He also thought about the subtle way she managed to maneuver him into taking her to Theti. He began to wonder what they might find on that distant world; was something evil afoot?
Krey's imagination continued to escalate; she seemed pleasant enough when they first met in the corridor at Unliwhy the sudden change in disposition? Maybe his attorney was right, maybe he was being set-up. Maybe she's a UN agentor an organized crime leader. Maybe she's a drug king-pin and the stolen tug is loaded with contraband!
Krey shook his head as he realized that he might be getting a little carried away; chances were that she was just a good-looking woman with a rotten disposition. Still, she was a stranger and he didn't know what she was capable of; would he wake up one morning with a knife sticking out of his back? He decided that, perhaps they should try to smooth tensions down somewhat before something catastrophic happened.
"Here's your damn beer!"
Krey turned to see Cassie hovering near the end of the rope with a beer canister in her hand. Krey accepted the beer with an uneasy smile.
"Thank you."
Cassie muttered to herself as she maneuvered back into her seat, "Thank you, he says."
Krey waited for her to get settled in her seat before he approached the subject of making amends.
"The reactor is just about ready... Ah.... Look, Cassie, I think maybe we should try to get along with each other, at least for"
"Not a chance!" she snapped.
"Why?" Krey asked in disbelief.
There was short pause as Cassie searched for a viable reason. When one couldn't be found, she resorted to diversion.
"Because you're dangerous and irresponsible."
"I'm not," Krey insisted, "and what does that have to do with being civilized toward each other?"
"You are so!" Cassie gestured to the flight controls, "You gave me the controls knowing full well that the ship would go into a tumble."
"Big deal!" Krey argued, "So the nose edged leftthere's nothing dangerous or irresponsible about that."
Cassie pointed toward the rear of the ship, "You have a hundred-thousand tons of steel back there that's as brittle as glass. Another stupid maneuver like that one could cause major damage!"
Their voices were beginning to get noticeably loud.
"Fat chance! This ship has been around for a hundred years, and it'll still be here long after you're dead."
Cassie shook her head emphatically, "When was the last time you took it through the time barrier?"
"Three years agono problems!"
There was a short pause in the bickering match. Krey was just about ready to mark the score on his side, when a smug grin came to Cassie's face.
"I'll prove it," she said in a much more hospitable tone. "I'm willing to predict that you have a ninety percent chance of losing a major piece of this ship as soon as you engage the transfer plates on the time distortion engine."
"What's your idea of a major piece?" Krey asked skeptically. "Three screws and a compression fitting?"
"A half a ton or more."
"Not a chance."
Cassie nodded, "Chance. I'd also give you three to one odds that you rupture a pressure-tight compartment."
Krey began to chuckle arrogantly, "You wouldn't want to put a wager on thiswould you?"
Cassie thought about the proposition for a moment or two, then looked at Krey through a devious smile, "I'll put my ship up against your's. If I'm right, then this pile of junk is mine, and I become the captain."
"Your ship?"
Cassie nodded, "Yesthe service tug."
Krey shook his head, "That's not your ship; it belongs to the United Nations."
"It is so my ship," Cassie argued, "I stole it fair and square!"
Krey shook his head more emphatically, "I won't accept stolen propertyno deal!"
Cassie shrugged her shoulders, "No matter. It'll be satisfaction enough just to prove you wrong."
Krey glanced at the engine instruments, "We'll see who's wrong." He cracked his knuckles as he looked at Cassie. "Are you ready to take on the time barrier?"
A smug, confident smile came to Cassie's face. She nodded as she secured a better grip on the armrests. Krey offered his own version of a confident grin; he casually reached for the engine controls, then flipped a switch.

The huge dilapidated Star Saber hung idle in its high orbit as it began to shake and vibrate under the strain of the time distortion engines. A moment or two later, the massive hulk of rotting steel began to slowly fade away into obscurity. Within seconds, it simply vanished from sight like a wisp of smoke dissipating in the air.

Cassie's nervous eyes panned across the ceiling as the decrepid hull rumbled, creaked, and moaned under the strain of the growing distortion created by the unconventional engine. The thought of metal fatigue, corrosion, and warpage haunted her as she felt the entire hull vibrate under her seat. She knew that the strain on the hull would cease as soon as the distortion of the time continuum was fully deployed; it was the slow, crushing transition that had her concerned.
Cassie glanced at Krey, who was still wearing a proud, confident grin, as if there was no particular cause for concern.
"Just like I said," Krey boasted, "No problems."
"We're not there yet." Cassie looked out the forward windows to get a rough idea of how much abuse they had yet to endure.
The view from inside the Star Saber was considerably different than the vanishing act seen from the real world. As the time distortion engines slowly warped the time continuum around the ship, the distant stars gradually appeared to be moving closer, as if the whole universe was shrinking in around RQ-733. The universe itself wasn't shrinking; it only appeared as such from their distorted reference of the cosmos.
As far as they were concerned, however, the foreshortened distance between them and the neighboring stars was getting smaller. Stars that were ten light-years away in the real world were compressed to only a fraction of a light-year by the effects of the distortion; this technique allowed space vehicles to travel over immensely great distances in a reasonable amount of time.
Judging from the apparent compression of the universe, Cassie guessed that they were only about half-way through the transition. Neighboring stars appeared to be considerably closer and brighter, while distant stars that were too faint to be seen by the naked eye were beginning to come into view. The changing, twisting forces around the hull steadily grew as the universe continued to close in around them.
Krey glanced at his instruments, "We're just about there."
The cosmos continued to close in on RQ-733. Neighboring stars had grown in size to more closely resemble small suns, rather than stars. The faint band of stars that formed the Milky Way had become a brilliantly glowing ribbon of light that completely encircled the Star Saber. The rest of the cosmos was cluttered with numerous tiny stars that were virtually undetectable from the real world.
Gradually, the compression of the universe slowed to halt, as did the nerve-racking sounds of the hull under stress. The rumble of the time distortion engines had settled down to an undetectable level, the vibrations ceased, and silence once again returned to the aged Star Saber.
It was at that moment when the constant reminder of their exodus, the ever-present UN cufflets, each separated into quarter-length segments. Cassie drew a sigh of relief as she gathered up the eight floating pieces that once formed confining bracelets around her wrists.
"Finally," she said with relief. She looked at her watch and shook her head, though her antics were strictly for Krey's benefit; she was trying to cover-up the fact that she had extended the grace period. "Looks like the UN was asleep at the switchthe cufflets should have locked together a long time ago."
"You're trying to avoid the issue," Krey snapped.
Cassie looked at Krey in confusion, "What issue?"
"You were wrongthe ship didn't break apart."
Krey wore a proud, self-satisfying grin as he reached into a pocket on the side of his seat and pulled out a pair of sun glasses. He donned the sun glasses then turned his attention to Cassie.
"Like I said, we lose two screw and a compression fittingtops."
"I don't get it." Cassie shook her head, "I thought for sure that this piece of junk would"
The conversation was abruptly interrupted as the sound of a modest explosion echoed through the dilapidated craft. It was immediately followed by an alarm as several flashing lights came to life on an overhead panel. The disturbance also disrupted the ship's attitude and caused the nose to pitch downward ever- so-slowly.
Krey immediately reached up to silence the alarm; his proud, cocky demeanor was quickly replaced by concern as his uneasy eyes studied the panel's indication.
"What is it?"
Krey shook his head, "We lost pressure in a compartment somewhere."
"Where?"
"Just a minute..." Krey pressed several keys on a keypad mounted near the alarm. After studying the keypad's display for a moment or two, he shook his head in confusion, "I didn't even know there was pressure in that compartment."
"Which compartment?"
Krey shrugged his shoulders, "I do'nosome compartment near the belly, about a hundred and fifty feet beneath the engines."
Concern began to creep across Cassie's face, "What's the compartment for?"
"How the hell should I know," Krey snapped, "What do I look likea map?"
Cassie's scrutinizing look of concern grew; she drew a cautious, uneasy breath, "Are you trying to say that you don't even know what's on your own ship?"
"Well..." Krey tried to side-step the issue by focusing his attention on the overhead panel.
"How long have you had this ship?"
"Since I was sixteen."
"And, in all that time you never bothered to go back there and take a look?"
Krey kept his attention on the overhead panel, "Most of the ship won't hold airyou need a pressure suit to go exploring and"
"Don't you have a pressure suit?" she asked pointedly.
"Well," Krey shrugged, "I just borrow one from Bruni when I need one."
Cassie shook her head as if she were passing judgment on a pitiful excuse for a human being, "You fly a busted-up, leaking sieve like this, and you don't even have a pressure suit."
Krey kept his attention focused on the overhead panel as he tried to assess the damages. "Don't get excitedI don't think we suffered any structural damage."
Krey felt Cassie's finger tapping him on the shoulder, followed by her smug tone of voice.
"Thenwhat do you call that?"
Krey glanced at Cassie; she was pointing out the forward windows. He turned his attention to the star-filled view of the cosmos. There, tumbling end over end in the not-too- distant emptiness, was a twenty-foot section of hull with a large, corroded tank attached to it. Krey realized that it, undoubtedly, had been expelled from the ruptured compartment on the belly, and was just now coming into view because of the gradual nose-down rotation of the ship.
"I told you," she said in a condescending voice. "I said a half-ton or moreand probably from a pressure-tight compartment."
"So!" Krey muttered as he turned his attention to the flight controls. He pulled back on the stick to correct the ship's attitude; the nose of the Star Saber began to pitch up as the piece of debris fell from view.
"Aren't you going to check the damage?" she argued.
"No."
"You should at least try to find out what was in that tank," she criticized. "Maybe it was"
"Shut up!" Krey's brow grew heavy with anger as he angled the ship toward Capella. "It was probably a septic tank full of shit we don't want anyway."
He reached down to a set of controls between the seats and grabbed a T-shaped lever. He kept his attention, and his scowl, focused out the windows as he slowly pushed the lever forward. The dilapidated hull responded with a series of metallic creaks and moans as the distortion shifted toward the front of the ship. The Star Saber began to move forward as it virtually fell into its own distortion.