Jessica solar's Arc

Chapter 1 of 15

The scavengers came back the third night, and Jessica counted six torch-beams crawling across the derelict's hull. She watched them from the broken observation deck, still in the stiff coronation robes she hadn't bothered to change out of. The embroidered constellations along her sleeves caught grease from the railing. Below her, on the cradle scaffolding, another hull plate went missing while she watched. She had eleven weeks to turn this wreck into the flagship that would carry her coronation fleet, and at this rate she would have a crown and no ship to wear it on. She climbed down the service ladder in the robes because there was no time to change. Her toolbelt hung crooked over the sash. In the lower bay she pried open a crate stamped ENGINE PARTS and dug past the couplings until she found what she wanted: a magnetic clamp array, salvaged, half-charged, enough. She dragged it toward the outer airlock. A voice stopped her at the seal. "You're going out there alone. In that." The enemy diplomat stood in the corridor in his crimson coat, rival insignia catching the work-lights. He was supposed to be upstairs in the imperial chambers, waiting on tomorrow's session. He had been showing up early to every meeting for a week. Jessica did not know what game he was playing, and she did not have time to learn it tonight. "They're stealing my ship," she said. "Move." He didn't move. "Let me help." "No." He stepped aside. She cycled the lock and went out along the spine of the hull in mag-boots, dragging the clamp array behind her on a tether. The scavengers hadn't seen her yet. She reached the primary breach point, anchored the array to the bare ribs, and keyed it live. The field snapped on with a low hum she felt in her teeth. Every loose plate within thirty meters slammed back against the hull and locked. One scavenger, halfway through cutting a panel free, was pinned by his own tool. The rest scattered down their lines toward their skiffs. Jessica watched them go. Her hands were shaking inside the gloves. She had kept the ship. She had also just declared, in front of witnesses she did not know, that this derelict was hers to defend. When she cycled back through the airlock, the diplomat was still there. He held out a rag for her hands. On the deck beside him sat a sealed case she had not seen him carry in. He tilted his head at it. "A gift," he said. "From my faction. They heard about your scavenger problem this morning." Jessica looked at the case. Nobody outside her own crew had known about the scavengers this morning. She took the rag and wiped grease from her knuckles slowly, buying seconds. The ship was saved. Someone was watching her save it. And that someone had arrived before she'd finished asking for help.