Darkspace Calamity

by Christopher Bodan

  Malya could feel the satisfaction rolling off of Rin. “Exactly.”

  “We’re going to Catermane, the very heart and soul of the Doctrine. We’ll be in the center of Doctrine space, surrounded by wizards and other esper-wielders dedicated to making sure we stay safe and happy. If you ever feel like you have to do your ‘job’, then something’s gone horribly wrong.”

  “It’s a dangerous galaxy,” Rin mused.

  “Sure, but we won’t have to worry about that when we get there, and until then,” she gestured around her. “Where exactly did you think you were going to use a sniper rifle on this ship? Besides,” she said, turning brittle, “if Lug has to stay down there, then so does your Rudy.”

  “It’s not the same,” the tall woman said. “He doesn’t fit in the passenger sections, and he knows it. He volunteered.”

  Malya turned slightly to see Rin flop into an overstuffed chair, her strawberry blonde hair completely covering its back. Two ceiling panels slid back in response and large holodisplays swung down from each.

  “Yeah. Yeah,” Betty replied, her voice sinking. She settled onto the corner of the bench seat and wrung her hands gently. “He did.”

  Both displays automatically brightened and started playing the same news feeds as the others on the ship, all discussing the Darkspace Calamity. Malya frowned at them for a few seconds before Rin found the control panel in the chair’s armrest and shut them off. Betty did not seem to notice.

  Malya’s excitement dimmed a bit as she watched Betty’s anxious sadness over Lug. No one expected the chee to ride in the cargo bay; she had seen other members of the sentient machine race all over, just on her short trip to the cabin. Even an industrial model like Lug could find room in the better sections, but he had immediately claimed a space as cargo as soon as she had announced this trip.

  “He’s okay,” Rin said. “He said so, remember? He’s in one of his moods where he doesn’t really want to socialize with anyone. You know how he gets. Besides, he’s got a datajack and the specs for the new model year racers. He’s going to be fine.”

  “For three weeks?”

  “It’s not quite that long to Catermane,” Malya said, trying to lighten the mood with her cheerful tone.

  “It would’ve been faster if we went straight from Cerci.”

  “Sure,” the princess replied, “but I wanted to keep a low profile and get some quiet time, remember? Give me a chance to forget about things for a while.” She smiled over at Mr. Tomn, who remained stretched out with his eyes shut. “At least as much as I can forget.”

  No cypher bonded to a sentient without a greater purpose, someone had told her once. She wished she could remember who. The stories said that Knights, sentients bonded with a cypher, all had a destiny, some part to play in the coming Calamity. Mr. Tomn sat up suddenly and looked in her eyes.

  She blinked and turned to Betty. “Did the pit crew get settled?”

  “Yeah, they’re all tucked in down on first class,” Betty said, accepting the distraction. “I’m not sure most of ‘em quite know how to behave there, but nobody’s complaining about you springing for the good tickets.”

  Malya smiled and turned back to the window. A little chill fell over her shoulders and settled in her stomach. Out the window, she saw a cargo mover with the last of the large items for the hold. The heavy, nondescript crate it carried bore only the diplomatic seal of Ulyxis and could have contained any official cargo—but it did not. Malya could feel her relic Sedaris folded up and packed away in there, and she yearned for it with something that felt like hunger.

  She had dug that magnificent machine from the crumbling wreck of a ruin on Vordexis Major two months after her third Prime win. Injured, pursued by assassins, and hopelessly lost, Mr. Tomn had guided her to a sacred place. There he had poured a torrent of esper into her. He had shown her a truth of the universe, a truth of passion and joy and creation through pure speed, and it had coalesced into her relic Sedaris. She would need it, he’d said; need its incredible swiftness, its strong frame, and its long blade. Now, she felt soft and vulnerable without it. She pushed aside the impulse to summon it, to force the esper to materialize the racer in front of her. It took quite an effort.

  Malya swallowed and shook her head. “Well, we’re all out of our comfort zone right now.” She settled into the seat. “It’ll do us all good to get away for a bit.”

  “You’ve been saying that for weeks,” Rin said. “What is it you’re trying to get away from, exactly—the fame, the celebrity? It’s not the racing; you live for that.”

  “It’s the—” Malya paused, trying to find alternates to the words that leapt to mind; saying them out loud would make the whole impulse seem wrong. “It’s the responsibility,” she said, and realized too late that she meant exactly that. “To—Ah, to everyone. About everything. The fans, the promoters, the organizers, the sponsors. I feel like I owe everybody some of my time and energy, and I don’t have any left for, you know, just enjoying what I’ve got. I guess.”

  “Well, I’m all for a little R’n’R,” Betty said, visibly trying to relax, “but we’ve only got so much time, you know? The galaxy doesn’t stop turning just ‘cause you’re dizzy.”

  “No, but I’d still like a chance to catch my breath.” She shrugged and forced a chuckle. “I mean, you win the Cerci Prime all three times in the same year, I think you should get to savor that, right?” Her eyes unfocused for a moment, and she thought she could see dead stars. “Need to think about what’s next and not think about other things.”

  Betty frowned, and Rin cast a dubious look at the princess. Mr. Tomn watched her expectantly.

  She frowned at him and sighed. “Look, we’re committed to celebrating the Festival of Scrolls on Catermane. We’re going to perform, relax, and have a good time. We’re on this ship for three weeks, and then we’ve got a couple of weeks back to Cerci. We’ll be rested, refreshed, and then we’ll figure out what’s going to happen next.” She glared at Mr. Tomn.

  “Time for rest and reflection is a luxury not often granted to a Knight,” the cypher said, unmoved.

  “Well, then let’s enjoy it while it lasts.” She looked up. “Rin, call room service. I figure we’ve got to kill a few hours before mister mouth here,” she nodded to her cypher, “can break us into the secure cargo hold.”

  Both of the women brightened up. “Yes ma’am,” Rin said and reached for the intercom.

  Chapter 2

  Corsair ship Black Spot, wildspace

  Golden Vance sat in the Black Spot’s command chair and brooded. He unconsciously flexed the stained and pitted manipulators of his industrial-grade cybernetic arm as his thoughts rolled and darkened. What good was the life of a free and independent corsair, he wondered, if he still had to jump and come calling at someone else’s whim? Who was Kate, and especially Harker, to call him here to this black nowhere? And what did it say about him that he answered?

  Outside the armored viewport of his ship’s bridge, the stars and shifting wonders of wildspace drifted past unnoticed. The call would come soon, he knew; Harker was never late when he called a conference. The thought of speaking to that arrogant, imperious, aristocratic pig drove Vance to grind his teeth and break furniture with his claw. He looked forward to seeing Calico Kate only slightly less. Worse, Harker likely wouldn’t have dragged them out to this empty corner of space if he didn’t have word of a prize. Vance had seen no prize worth the taking for over two standard weeks, and the urge for violence crawled up his back like a spider. Just seeing Harker’s smug face would gall, but owing the man for a chance at plunder would rankle like nothing else. Vance couldn’t decide which he hated more.

  Something else tugged at him, though, something beyond having to deal with Harker and Kate. He kept poking at the corners of his grimy mind to find it, fix it, put a name on it, but always it eluded him. He could not call it foreboding, though it had a touch of that. He had never been given to prophecy or uncanny insight even after t
he esper chose him. Nevertheless, he had a feeling, like an itch in his mind. Something was coming. He wondered if it would finally make him rich.

  A soft gold and violet light rose behind him and spread across his patched cape and, now empty, mug.

  He frowned further. “Don’t hover, little fish. Come forward or go away.”

  A second later, the scaled form of Minnow, his mermaid-like cypher, drifted over his left shoulder and into view. She seemed anxious, well, more anxious than usual. Vance wondered at that for a second but then decided it fit with the impending . . . something . . . that he felt. She was always too bloody sensitive. He grew impatient with her instantly.

  “My Knight,” she began, and broke off at the sight of his sneer. She rallied, though, and tried again. “Captain, I—”

  “Quiet,” he said. It came out as a low growl. “When I’ve need of you, I’ll ask. Until then, be silent.”

  Minnow hesitated, as if she might speak anyway, but slumped her shoulders instead. Her gaze fell to the floor, and she drifted to his left just out of sight.

  The low whistle of the comm signal cut across the bridge. Vance’s second-in-command stepped over to the communications station and then moved toward him. “Captain,” the grizzled man said, touching his cap, “they’re here. That’s Kate what just signaled, and scans show that Harker’s just coming out of slip space now.”

  Vance nodded, sliding easily into the official captain role. “Thank you, Mr. Skreev. Put her through, and let’s get this over with.”

  He strode toward the center of the bridge as the overhead holodisplay sputtered to life. A shaky image of a young woman with red-gold hair, an eye patch, and a cavalier attitude formed above him and gradually gained resolution. Calico Kate, the self-styled Queen of the Star Nebula Corsairs, stared down at him. He could have spit. She’d done well enough from their little ‘business arrangement,’ no doubt. Vance had yet to decide if he’d done well enough. Perhaps he’d find out today.

  He stepped up to the edge of the holoprojector’s floor inserts, where the optics could pick him up and render his image to Kate. “Captain,” he said as evenly as he could manage.

  “Golden,” Kate replied, in an almost sprightly manner. “How are you faring this lovely day in the void?”

  He shrugged. No reason to play her games. “Well enough. Better, once I find out why we’ve come all the way out to nowhere.”

  “Aye,” she replied in her rich, rolling tones. Her expression slipped more serious. “And Harker can explain his haste as well.”

  “Of course,” came a cultured, smooth voice over the link.

  Vance gritted his teeth again as the third pirate captain’s face resolved in the air.

  “Apologies for the unusual nature of this meeting, but it’s a rare opportunity and the situation is fluid.” Harker glanced down at something the others could not see and data files began appearing on the displays below them. “This is the Tranquil Wind, pride of the United Stars starline, and bound from Daeveron to Catermane on this course.” He glanced at something to his left. “Indeed, they should be dropping out of slip space in the next few moments to recharge.”

  Kate rubbed her chin, thoughtfully regarding the passenger ship’s image on the display. “Hmm. Big and fat, true enough. And while I don’t mind relieving some dirt-huggers of their pretties, it’s not as though this is a Merchant’s Guild bulk hauler.” She fixed her gaze on Harker. “You could take this fish yourself, I think. While I appreciate you sharing, why did you feel the need for all of us here?”

  Harker grinned, and Vance wanted to hit him. “Because I have word that Malya Ulyxani, Crown Princess of Ulyxis, three-time Cerci Prime champion, and—lest we forget—famed Relic Knight, is traveling incognito aboard this very ship.”

  Vance’s jaw dropped open. This was it. This was what he had felt coming; he knew it. His vision shrank to the starliner’s image, and he fancied he could see a glow within it. He realized a second later that Kate was talking again, and he had to struggle to hear her.

  “Are you sure, Harker?” The pirate queen had turned all business.

  Harker nodded. “Yes. I have a very well-placed source whom I have tasked specifically with this. It’s long been rumored that Malya leaves Cerci secretly, sometimes for extended periods.” He shrugged. “She is a Knight, after all, and that means a life of strange journeys and danger. This we can all attest to.” As if on cue, Harker’s parrot cypher Caesar landed on his shoulder, just barely in the image. He had the good grace to look embarrassed. “Yes, yes. We remember you exist. Shoo.” He gently pushed the cypher out of the image. Harker straightened up and cleared his throat.

  Vance wanted to smack the ghost of a smile off of the man’s face.

  “In any case, I have kept watch for her to take one of these unannounced trips, and now I’ve managed to get her itinerary and course.”

  “How good is your man?” Vance demanded. “Is he reliable?”

  “For what I paid him, he’d better be,” Harker said. “But more than that, his reputation for this kind of thing is impeccable. As you’ve said, this ship is hardly worth the trouble for all three of us, and I wouldn’t have involved you or Captain Kate if I didn’t trust the report.”

  Vance growled. “That’s a rich prize, princess or no, and you’ll not keep me from it—us from it,” he corrected. “We share booty, as we’ve agreed, and I’ll hold you to that bargain. Personally.”

  “Of course,” Harker said airily. Vance’s frown deepened. Harker should have come back with some contrived, upper-class insults; he always had. His simple dismissal of the threat raised Vance’s hackles.

  “Well, it’s a fun prize all the same,” Kate said. “Right then, we’ll hit ‘em when they appear. We can’t waste time on this one; if the princess is aboard, it’s likely that the paladins or some other authority will hop to her aid the second the distress signal goes out. So look sharp. Vance, breach aft between the passenger sections and the cargo hold. Keep the passengers from running.” She fixed him with a stern look. “Passengers first, then cargo.”

  Vance grumbled but nodded. He would just see, he decided, how things went. He’d likely have to improvise.

  “Harker, take the starboard side forward of the passengers and push aft,” Kate continued. “I’ll take port and aim for the bridge. I’ll join you once I’ve secured that. Remember, we need the princess unharmed or at least intact.”

  “That’s no easy task,” Vance said, “considering she’s a Knight.”

  “You want easy, go back to snatching purses,” Kate said with a biting smile. “You want rich, you take her alive.”

  “Aye, aye,” Vance replied. She seemed to hesitate at his easy acceptance, and he scowled so she would not suspect that he had any ideas other than following orders.

  “Right. Hop to, everyone,” Kate said and cut her link. Vance turned away without a word to Harker, and the display fuzzed out behind him.

  Schematics of the Tranquil Wind replaced the images of the pirate captains in the air over the bridge. Diagram information blinked into life describing the ship’s features and construction, and a green glowing tag appeared over the passenger section. Vance studied it for a moment with an experienced eye and finally nodded. “That’s our boarding point,” he said. “Helm, come about when they appear and make for that section, port side. We’ll beat Harker to anything worth having. Mr. Skreev!”

  “Aye, Captain,” the man called, saluting.

  “Gather the hands at the boarding airlocks.” He could not help grinning at the thought of the coming fight. “Tell ‘em we’ve throats to cut.” Mr. Skreev shared his captain’s smile and hurried off. A second later, the general quarters signal sounded through the ship, and Vance strode out to get his weapons.

  ***

  Malya sat back and enjoyed the view from the top deck of the Tranquil Wind’s smaller food court. The dining area looked like a scoop taken out of the ship’s midsection four decks high, with dancing col
ors, shifting holoprojections, and currently, a cool sea breeze wafting through to entertain and relax the guests. The three women had a private table at the railing of the top deck. From here, they could look out through the vast open space, seeing just the edges of the next two scooped decks, and all the way down to the bottom level. The noise fascinated Malya. The ship did an excellent job of muffling the roar of so many people, but she could still follow the low rumble of conversations, laughter, and shrieking children. It sounded like the crowd at a mid-tier track before the flag dropped.

  Rin had insisted on a good vantage point, and Malya didn’t blame her. The sniper pulled her second-favorite scope from the long pocket on her vest and began idly scanning the visible parts of the lower decks. Only Rin had actually extricated anything from storage, but just being able to visit Lug improved Betty’s mood immensely. Similarly, laying a hand on Sedaris now and then made Malya feel immeasurably better.

  From a discrete spot under the table, Mr. Tomn touched Malya’s leg, and she smiled down at him. He held up his paws. She rolled her eyes and dutifully dropped half of her sweet muffin to him. The cypher chewed away happily. His presence helped, but it did not stop the nagging feeling in the back of her mind.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the displays. Three different projectors showed three different news feeds, all discussing the Darkspace Calamity. One described how astronomers could find no other galaxies than this one. The second lamented that the Doctrine’s codifiers could not detect even lingering traces of the esper energies that once bound the lost stars to existence. The last reported that corsair and noh raids had increased dramatically over the last two cycles and that panic and chaos were sweeping across the Last Galaxy.

  Malya frowned. “Even here,” she said quietly as she turned away, “technically on vacation, we can’t relax. You have to stay out of sight. I have to keep my head down.” She closed her eyes. “And we can’t get away from that.”