Rene stepped to Ten and extended his hand. The crime lord gave him a quizzical look and then took it in his own. Ten’s grip seemed weak, but Rene knew that it was an artifact of the thick gloves he wore rather than any lack of vigor on their hosts part.

“A handshake?” Ten asked sardonically, “I never expected such a thing.” Rene nodded his head, accepting that he had not been particularly trusting of the kingpin despite everything he had done for them.

“You saved Solae’s life and for that you have my thanks.” That much was sincere and besides, many of those who served the Stellar Empire did so for their own reasons, the fact that Ten had been rewarded handsomely for his help didn’t invalidate what he had done.

“Besides, given that my Duchess hugged you, it might be considered insubordinate not to at least shake your hand.” Though Rene delivered it in a dead pan, the corners of Ten’s mouth still quirked into a slight smile.

“A handshake and a joke in the same day, will miracles never cease?” Ten asked, his smile broadening slightly. Rene grinned and released his hand, turning to his four air suited companions.

“Alright let's get our helmets on, we should only need them for a few minutes, but once things start we won't have time to fiddle with them,” he explained before suiting action to words and settling his own helmet down over the closures in the neck of his suit. There was a soft click as the helmet settled into place and then he touched the activation stud with his forefinger. The suit inflated fractionally as pressurized air flowed from the bottle at the suits hip, lifting the neoprene away from his skin. A series of green tell tales lit across the upper edge of his helmet, confirming both pressure and air supply. The Syshin, familiar with the equipment from their forced labor aboard Thorne’s mining vessels, did the same and Rene helped first Rosaria and finally Solae to settle their equipment. He let his head rest momentarily against Solae’s so that their helmets touched, the closest they could come to a kiss and then straightened, making a gesture to the cargo hauler. As they climbed in the whine of the fans increased slightly to compensate for the added weight, though the weight of five people wasn’t a significant imposition on a hauler designed to move several tons of cargo.

“This hauler is going to take us to the docking area where the Bonaventure is berthed,” Rene explained as two of Ten’s men came forward and covered the stow aways with a canvas sheet. As the darkness enclosed them Rene produced a small electric light and turned it on so that no one would panic. His voice was carried to the others over a low power radio built into the helmet, as in vacuum transmission of sound wasn’t possible, and even in the air the plastic face shields tended to muffle and distort voices.

The whine of the fans increased as the hauler lifted into ground effects and slid off towards the dock. Automated guidance systems meant that it didn’t need a pilot, though in this case it was being remotely controlled by one of Ten’s technicians in the Consolidated Star Freight offices. Rene drew a small tablet computer from a crate and turned it on, the screen was split into nine segments, each relaying a video feed from the dock. It was much as Rene and Solae had left it when they disembarked, a subjective age ago, though there appeared to be more people in the area. Short cropped hair and erect posture betrayed them as Bhast’s soldiers despite the fact that they were dressed in mechanics jump suits or loose fitting spacers clothing and making an effort to look nonchalant. The computer highlighted sixteen such individuals, certainly or probably, watchers waiting for the fugitives to return to the ship. 

“Are we going outside the dome?” Rosaria asked nervously, “That is why we are wearing airsuits right?”

“Only in a manner of speaking,” Rene explained, “They would see us coming through the dome and stop us.” Further conversation stopped as the hauler slowed and then stopped. Rene made an adjustment to his screen and the view changed to a considerably clearer video feed, this one from the on-board cameras of the hauler itself. As planned they were stopped in front of one of the secondary freight airlocks, a bifurcated rectangle fourteen feet in height and over half that in diameter. This was a secondary airlock, put in place incase a high risk area, like a ship dock depressurized. If that happened this airlock would seal and protect the integrity of the rest of the dome. The lock opened with the ponderous grace required of its heavy metal doors and the hauler slid forward into it as the door closed behind it.

“Mia are you receiving?” Rene asked, turning the feed back to the docking bay. The long cylindrical form of the Bonaventure was visible in one of the cameras, connected to the dome itself by the docking tubes of flexible plastic.

“I hear you Colonel,” Mia purred, her sultry tone provoking concerned looks from the Syshin and Rosaria, unfamiliar as yet with the AI’s peculiarities. There was no time to ease their anxiety however, now that the hauler had entered the airlock they needed to act quickly.

“Are you still able to eject Bhast’s hacking program?” he asked, though he had no reason to believe anything had changed.

“I am, and would be glad to do so, he has been an uncouth guest,” Mia pouted. Rene shook his head, uncertain how the AI had come to that conclusion or if she could really feel something akin to gladness.

“Alright, when I give the command I want you to eject the program and light starboard thrusters three and five,” Rene instructed. It would have technically been possible to give these instructions beforehand, but it vastly increased the likelyhood that Bhast’s people would be able to intercept and decode them. He might well be detected now, but by waiting till the last moment it was unlikely anyone would be able to react in time to counter the plan.

“Lighting the starboard thrusters will damage the docking tubes and will not be sufficient to lift the ship Colonel,” Mia replied the hint of a wicked giggle in her voice.

“Understood,” Rene replied, “Give them a three second burn and then let them return to idle. Once they are off lower the starboard cargo ramp.
“The ramp will be in Zatis atmosphere rather than that of the domes,” Mia purred, compelled by her programing to point out a potential danger to the people she was responsible for.

“Understood,” Rene repeated, “can you be ready in five seconds?”

“I am ready now Colonel,” the computer responded in a voice breathy with desire.

“Execute.”

There was a sudden roar of plasma thrusters firing, with two of the Bonaventure’s eight thrusters firing. Rene could only see a bright light on the video feed but he could imagine the white hot fire melting the docking tubes and burning the docking collars. As if on cue, there was a sudden booming detonation and alarms began to shriek. On the screen pieces of trash and loose paper whipped across the docking bay like a snow storm. Zatis’ atmosphere was not a vacuum so the decompression wasn’t instant or explosive, but it was enough of a differential that it remained impressive. The figures on the screen reacted with predictable panic, rushing for the secondary airlocks as the toxic atmosphere began to displace the breathable air of a moment ago. One man came rushing out of a restroom, his pants forgotten as he bolted across the concrete. Within thirty seconds the docking bay was clear, with all the staff and watchers having reached the safety of the secondary airlocks. Rene had deliberately picked the lock that was closest to the Bonaventure and the farthest run for anyone trying to escape the depressurization. It had still been possible that someone would run for this cargo airlock and if that had happened… well Rene was just as pleased it hadn’t. The telltale in the airlock blinked red, indicating that the other side was no longer pressurized and, on que the hauler began to move forward. The secondary airlocks were designed so that the door facing the depressurized area could be opened, a safety feature to allow those fleeing the disaster to get inside and shelter. The tarp covering them rippled with the impact of air injectors firing to keep the internal atmosphere breathable as the hauler moved forward through the outer airlock door and into the docking bay now flooded with the poisonous mix of gasses that comprised Zatis’ partially terraformed atmosphere.

Sound changed subtly as they moved into the new medium and Rene became aware of the sound of his own breathing. Reaching up, he pulled the catch that held the tarp in place and the canvas covering fluttered away in the still considerable wind rush of the incoming atmosphere. The temperature had dropped significantly and condensate pooled on the exposed areas of the dome as water laced with ammonia redeposited itself on the smooth surface. Rene stood up as the hauler slipped towards the Bonnaventure, visible beyond the smoldering and guttering remains of the oxygen starved plasma fires that had destroyed the docking tubes. He glanced towards the secondary airlocks that the former denizens of the docks had fled towards. They remained closed and it was unlikely anyone inside had any notion of what was going on. That was good, because it would still be possible to shoot from inside the airlocks, though the civilians inside would make that a difficult task. Ten’s pilot guided them expertly through the openings that had held the now destroyed docking tubes, the fans of the hauler momentarily flaring the fires by driving a few more molecules of oxygen to feed them and then they were outside on the concrete pad. As Rene had directed the cargo ramp was extended. Grinning he hoped over the side of the hauler and helped first Solae and then Rosaria over the side so they could head up into the interior of the ship. The two Syshin anticipating Rene’s next instruction, seized the first of the two crates and began to manhandle it up the ramp. Rene joined Yasure at the rear and within a handful of minutes they had both crates aboard. 

“Alright Mia close the hatch!” Rene called and the loading ramp began to retract. A sudden clang and then a pair more sounded as gunfire raked the hull. Rene instinctively dropped and was rewarded with a jolt of pain from the medical unit still attached to his side. Another clang rattled the ship as more of Bhast’s men realized what was happening, but it was too late, the hold doors closed their last few inches and sealed with a soft thump. Small arms were no threat to a starship and they weren't going to have time to fetch anything larger. Air began to rush from the vents above the cargo bay as Mia, without instructions, began to re-pressurize the cargo hold. After a minute her pleasant voice announced:

“The atmosphere is now breathable again,” Mia announced, “Welcome home Duchess Falia.”