Free Lone Star Renegades by Mark Wayne McGinnis

metal deck, what must have been the bridge, Collin looked up to see two more furry, cat-like men pointing weapons at his head.
    “I’ll take your weapons,” Cine said.
    Collin glanced back and saw that the hatch was closed. Bubba and DiMaggio wouldn’t be able to help him. Slowly, Collin unslung his rifle and handed it over to Cine.
    “That, too,” he said, gesturing toward the Beretta holstered on Collin’s hip. “Very slowly.”
    Collin did as told and handed that one over as well.
    “You can call him Orman, our leader, and the other one is Pack.”
    Both of the cat-like men fingered the devices around their necks as Cine had done earlier.
    “Another from the blue planet?” the biggest of the three aliens, Orman, asked Cine.
    “He is their leader,” Cine answered.
    “I’m not the leader of anything. But I suggest you lower your weapons. That is, if you ever want to leave this ship. Cine will tell you, you’re outnumbered and the people I’m with are not the type you want to make your enemy.”
    Orman seemed to consider this. “You and the others … you are not full grown. How is it you command your own spacecraft?”
    Collin was about to correct the alien but then realized what he was alluding to: the jetliner. As far as they were concerned the ship was more than a vessel transporting people from Chicago to Los Angeles. They had no way of knowing if it could leave Earth’s orbit or not. “On my planet, people my age have much responsibility. As you saw, Cine, our spacecraft was sucked up into this … what did you call it, a sim rover? We’re in the same situation as you are. It makes sense that we all work together to get out of here.”
    “We will not be your captives,” Orman said.
    Collin determined two things in that instant: First, the three of them weren’t the cleverest bunch. They had full leverage right now and were seemingly ready to give that away. Second, they had about them the stink of desperation. It was a term Collin’s father used when he talked about people giving up … on a situation … on life.
    “We … I’m not interested in keeping anyone captive. What I do want is to get my people secured on board this craft before that aperture opens up to space again. Help me do that and I’ll help you get this ship functional again.”
    They looked at each other.
    “You know how to repair this type of spacecraft?” Cine asked skeptically.
    Hearing his uncertainty, Collin took a long appraising look around the small, cramped, bridge. There was a windshield, or viewing window, at the front of the compartment that looked out upon the endless expanse of the green-lit mountains of metal beyond. Inside, there were three curved consoles arranged in a U shape. Certainly more advanced than anything Collin had ever seen before, yet, compared to the cockpit of the 777, its high-tech functionality still seemed pretty basic. Where the jetliner cockpit had a myriad of switches and dials, this cockpit or bridge was all about tiny, colorful display screens. There weren’t any switches, per se, but there seemed to be a method for interfacing each display that Collin would need to figure out.
    Collin turned to Bubba. He knew his dad owned an auto repair shop and that he, Collin himself, was a natural with math and the sciences: physics, chemistry. If he hadn’t been abducted into space, he was in line to begin a full scholarship to MIT, beginning fall semester.
    The three cat-men creatures tickled the devices around their necks and began speaking in a language that sounded more like growling and purring than typical speech.
    They seemed to have come to some kind of agreement. Again, with the tickling of the neck device, Orman said, “We will trust you. You will lead us out of this sim rover. After that, we will need to talk more.”
    Again, he’s spieling this leadership crap , Collin thought. He’d never been the leader of anyone. Even the thought of it made him nervous. But, in all truth,