The engines started immediately. Fiach thanked her lucky stars that the smuggler kept his ship in good condition. Given their line of work, it was a given – but she was still relieved.
She performed perfunctory pre-flight checks. They were not going into orbit and so many of the systems did not need to be prepped. But the next things she did was to flick a switch that enabled the shields. And not a moment to soon, as the sound of small arms fire pinging the ship could be heard.
The children were huddled as close to Fiach as they could and the cockpit was cramped. But she could hardly blame them. “Hold on tight,” she said as she pulled back on the throttle and gained altitude before shooting forwards. She knew there was no way the kidnappers could catch them up and – the closer they got into town – the less likely they would even want to be in their vicinity.
Ten minutes later, Fiach settled the ship in the sand on the outskirts of town and close to one of the local security force’s buildings. She lowered the cargo bay ramp and, in the dark of night that had now fallen, she ushered the children off the ship and walked them quickly into the custody of a bemused desk sergeant. She was unsure the perpetrators would be brought to justice, but she had the satisfaction of knowing the children were safe.
The ship, it transpired, would be impounded. If nobody claimed it in 90 days, it would be turned over to Fiach. As she left the security office, she wondered what price it would fetch and which worthy causes would benefit from an unexpected windfall.
She performed perfunctory pre-flight checks. They were not going into orbit and so many of the systems did not need to be prepped. But the next things she did was to flick a switch that enabled the shields. And not a moment to soon, as the sound of small arms fire pinging the ship could be heard.
The children were huddled as close to Fiach as they could and the cockpit was cramped. But she could hardly blame them. “Hold on tight,” she said as she pulled back on the throttle and gained altitude before shooting forwards. She knew there was no way the kidnappers could catch them up and – the closer they got into town – the less likely they would even want to be in their vicinity.
Ten minutes later, Fiach settled the ship in the sand on the outskirts of town and close to one of the local security force’s buildings. She lowered the cargo bay ramp and, in the dark of night that had now fallen, she ushered the children off the ship and walked them quickly into the custody of a bemused desk sergeant. She was unsure the perpetrators would be brought to justice, but she had the satisfaction of knowing the children were safe.
The ship, it transpired, would be impounded. If nobody claimed it in 90 days, it would be turned over to Fiach. As she left the security office, she wondered what price it would fetch and which worthy causes would benefit from an unexpected windfall.