To Victors Go The Spoils

The sky's blue faded to starry black in the forward viewport as the Chancer V left Karnak’s atmosphere. The sight of darkness supplanting the heavens went unusually ignored by the freighter’s three occupants, clustered around a tiny screen in the cabin’s dashboard.
“We saved a planet.” Gavin said in disbelief, for about the fifth time. “Hot damn, if that wasn’t a good day’s work.”
Much as Stray wanted to deny it just for sounding like science fiction, Gavin wasn’t exaggerating. If their humble crew hadn’t been digging around in the atmospheric processors, taking on the simple repair contract to lay low, the Unggoy sabotage would never have been discovered. After they’d staged the murder of the chief engineer, the processors would’ve churned out a methane-rich mix for months before anything was noticed. By that time, reactions with Karnak’s existing atmosphere would’ve made the planet inhospitable for humans, nevermind that the existing population had no means of mass evacuation. The Unggoy could settle down on the bones of the previous colonists.
“Best part,” Gavin went on when no one replied, “is the UEG can’t even deny what happened. Everyone saw those clouds and knew the Colonial Administration wasn’t doing a thing about it.”
Leaning against the back wall, Stray’s shaggy hair brushed against the bulkhead when he shook his head. “I don’t know. I think the best part was getting it all in under Ryder’s smug nose. He was so busy thinking above his paygrade and worrying about his next promotion he thought ignoring us was doing everyone a favor.”
“I guess he was, in a way. If he’d bothered trying to stop us, we wouldn’t’ve uncovered the whole Grunt conspiracy!” Gavin reached for the new guitar he’d stashed behind his seat. Of all the identical wood laminate pieces he’d looked at in Karnak’s music store, Gavin swore this had been the best. Of course, he’d sworn the same about every other mass-manufactured guitar he’d owned, and broken each in the course of fights, escapes, and accidents on their aimless course across the frontier. He pulled his latest prize instrument into his lap and plucked a few chords, searching for the key to begin his latest crime against music. “You gotta admit, feels good to play do-gooder and be the hero for once, doesn’t it?”
Now Gavin was getting ahead of himself. Stray crossed his arms. “Screw being heroes. We’re gonna be famous.”
Gavin chuckled and tightened up a string. “Yeah, but for once it’s not because the UEG said we compromised national security or committed an act of terrorism. We did ‘em a favor free of charge, and they gotta stand up and write us a nice ‘thank-you’ card.”
Stray was more comfortable using schadenfreude toward the UEG’s public relations as reason for the risks they’d taken—all unpaid—to save Karnak’s colonists, but he did quietly acknowledge the pride swelling in his chest. Gavin, Zoey, and Stray had each been labeled criminals, outlaws, and worse by Earth’s government, and despite all the labels thrown their way, true or untrue, they’d entirely defied the galaxy’s expectations and wound up the good guys today. Whatever else they might do, the UEG couldn’t take that away from them.
“Aha!” Zoey finally piped up from the co-pilot’s seat, where she’d been scouring colonial news broadcasts for word of the events on Karnak. With an atmospheric processor destroyed and the Unggoy contractors surrendering, the UEG had to publicly address what was going on. Gavin and Stray huddled closer to enjoy their embarrassed acknowledgement.
“A mystery on Karnak was explosively uncovered today,” said a sharply-dressed anchor Zoey had pulled up, “when a plot to sabotage Karnak Terraforming Processor Number Four was foiled. Unggoy contract laborers employed by the plant attempted to undermine UEG atmospheric conversion efforts and render the colony inhospitable to human life. Fortunately, the potential crisis was averted by the efforts of Spartan Fireteam Phoenix. The fireteam’s leader, Spartan Ryder Kedar, will be awarded special recognition in a ceremony scheduled later this week…”
The talking head droned on as the Chancer crew stared in speechless disbelief. Gavin’s fingers froze around the chords he’d been playing. Stray’s mouth hung open, letting out the wind that filled him moments ago.
Zoey twisted to look at each of them in turn, then back to the screen. “Son of a—!”
Category:The Weekly