[h3]Urses Mallory[/h3]

Urses pressed himself tight behind a corner, gut burning with every breath. He refused to lower the rifle, the pain only fed his anger. His knuckles were white around the stock.

“Do not move!” he called to the others. “Carter, you hear me, you idiot! Throw the weapons out first. Then come out slow with your hands up. You do that, you might live long enough to see a cell!”

His eyes flicked toward the others, the Inburian soldier and the lady who carried authority in her voice he had not come to expect and then the old captain trying to make a case for a thief. It was too many opinions, too many questions and too much talking. Urses did not care, he had been ordered to guard this cargo and someone had tried to steal it.

He lifted his chin and barked again, louder, forcing his command through the chaos.

“Carter. Surrender, now!”

[hr]

[h3]James E. Carter[/h3]

Carter’s vision pulsed with the beat of his heart. He looked down at his arm and did not like what he saw, blood was still flowing down. Maybe it was not fatal, but it was hard to ignore any longer.

He forced himself to breathe, looking around frantically. Then he saw it, the cargo ramp lever near the bulkhead, half-hidden behind a stack of crates and a coil of rope that helped tether the airship to the ground.

He moved quietly, crouched down and reached it and gripped the handle tightly, then he yanked.

The mechanism groaned and the ramp began to lower with a heavy metal whine. Cold air rushed in and daylight with it, the sudden brightness was like a flare being thrown into a dark void. 

Carter holstered his pistol and showed one hand out to the open lane of light, still taking cover against the stacks of crates.

“Enough!” he yelled out, still in cover, “I’m not here to steal this damn metal for myself. I’m here because there’s no one else in those meetings who gives a rat’s ass about what we were promised.”

He swallowed, trying to find the right words.

“I want one crate, just one. A finder’s fee for keeping this ship in the sky and getting that gold out of enemy hands, I'm making sure the people who bled for it are not thrown aside once the uniforms start stamping papers. That’s it.”

He paused for a moment, the blood from his arm began to drip down to the metal flooring beneath him.

“I’m not going to shoot my way out and I’m not trying to kill anyone. But I'm not going to stand here and let the whole venture get swallowed by ‘orders from Grendell’ while the crew goes home empty.”

He took a careful glance the ramp’s edge, his good hand was still up. The rope lines were there, tethering and stabilizers the ship to ground. Carter gulped again.

“If you’re set on hanging me for this,” he said, breath tight, “then you can do it after I’m off the ship.”