[01] Elite: Wanted by Gavin Deas Page A

they were more than enough to turn two ten-metre radiuses of ice into steam. The steam almost instantly re-froze, creating multi-trunk tree-like structures of ice rising up from the surface of the asteroid. Some of the ice was red.
    ‘He seems angry,’ Orla said. She hadn’t bothered putting Newman’s ranting over the loudspeakers. She would handle comms now. She didn’t want to distract the rest of the crew.
    ‘We should take him from here,’ Jonty said. ‘Cut our losses.’
    ‘Jonty,’ Harnack said softly to his lover, ‘we agreed that we were going in to get the payload and confirm a kill on Newman.’
    ‘Quiet,’ Orla told a furious Newman over the comms. ‘You said they weren’t yours, we took you at your word. No more pissing about. We’re going to come down, get our pay and then we don’t ever have to have anything to do with each other again. Mess around and everyone dies, understood?’ Orla listened to Newman’s reply. ‘Okay, we’re on,’ she told the rest of the crew.
    ‘You think he realises we’re playing a zero sum game?’ Jenny wondered.
    ‘I don’t think empathy’s his thing,’ Jonty muttered.
    ‘Tell him he delivers our money,’ Ravindra said. Orla nodded and repeated the instruction.
    ‘He wants to see you as well,’ Orla said.
    Of course he does
, Ravindra thought as she brought the ship into land..
    The loading ramp airlock’s inner doors slid shut behind them. The air cycling out of the airlock made them sway in their armoured spacesuits. The monomolecular hooks on the griphook soles of their suits kept them solidly anchored to the loading bay ramp in the asteroid’s microgravity.
    ‘Ready?’ Harnack asked. Ravindra and Jenny nodded. Affirmatives came across the secure comms link from Jonty and Orla.
    ‘Lower the docking ramp,’ Ravindra told the ship. Harnack knelt down, the griphook kneepad on his space suit adhering to the ramp. Ravindra and Jenny stood to either side of him. All three of them were holding their EM carbines ready. Crosshairs appeared in their vision, either on the heads-up display on the helmets themselves, or, in Ravindra’s case, on her lenses.
    There were five of them positioned in a rough semi-circle around the Cobra’s ramp. Ravindra was reasonably sure that it was Newman in the centre of the five. Four of them had carbines levelled at the
Song
’s crew. Ravindra was gratified to see that they were only lasers. There was a reason her crew carried EM carbines. Jenny, Harnack and Ravindra brought their own guns up. The targeting systems showed them the best places to point them. The ice all around them glowed deep blue, reflecting the landing lights of both ships.
    ‘I thought you were professionals. Where’s the trust gone?’ Newman asked. He
was
the man stood in the middle, his hands behind his back.
    Harnack stayed kneeling on the loading ramp. Ravindra and Jenny edged down, carbines snug against their shoulders, and then moved to either side of the ramp.
    ‘Professionalism includes torturing the passengers on the yacht?’ Jenny demanded. Ravindra cursed the engineer. There would be no closure here. No point in discussing it.
    ‘What about the ones you killed in the escape pods? I’m not sure you’re in a position to morally judge me.’
    ‘Just give us our credit packs and we’ll be on our way,’ Ravindra said through gritted teeth. Even in Alliance space all electronic financial transactions could be traced. The best way to move around large amounts of credits unnoticed was using credit packs. They were little more than specialised, secure, electronic storage devices.
    ‘You killed two of my people—’ Newman said angrily.
    ‘We gave you a chance …’ Jenny pointed out fiercely.
    ‘The E-bomb nearly killed all of us.’
    ‘We had to clean up your—’ Jenny started.
    ‘Are we doing this?’ Ravindra demanded, cutting the engineer off.
    ‘I think you need to—’ Newman began to shout.
    ‘Now,’ Ravindra said.
    It