I sat. The familiar texture and shape of my chair melded with my body. I cleared my throat.
“Al, you there buddy? Time to wake up,” I called out. A number of indicator lights on the right console flashed blue and red, and I heard a deep computerized voice come from the speakers around me.
“Captain, may I remind you that because I am a machine, I do not sleep. The correct term would be ‘hibernate’ or ‘standby’.”
Stars above, Al, I thought.
“I am relieved to see that you are not harmed, sir,” he continued. “I detected the explosion at the space dock. Before we continue our discussion, I feel I must warn you—”
“Yes, Al,” I interrupted. “I know we have a passenger on our ship. Activate passenger protocol immediately.”
The protocol was designed to keep Al a secret from any and every passenger I took onboard. He was the most advanced computer intelligence humanity had ever created, and he had been installed on my ship so I could keep him safe. There were people out there like Sarah King who would, and did in fact, kill to acquire this technology. As long as we had passengers, Al and I would only communicate by text unless, like now, I isolated myself on the bridge.
“CAPTAIN,” Al typed out on my front console screen. “THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT—”
There was a loud knock at the door. I stretched to open it for Tress, who poked his head in with his antennae shifting from side to side.
“Captain Quinn,” he said. “Who are you talking to? I heard two voices coming from this room.”
Oh flux.
“SIR, THE RESTRAN PASSENGER CAN DETECT ME SPEAKING, EVEN BEYOND THE BRIDGE.”
I sighed. I guess passenger protocol wouldn’t be needed then. I deactivated it. I considered that Tress’s antennae were used as his primary senses, but I never thought they’d be so strong as to hear past a thick metal bulkhead. I introduced him to Al.
“Ra chintu comp?” Tress said. A living computer? Al was the one who had been teaching me alien languages for the last year, so I wasn’t concerned with him translating the question.
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Al answered back in Restran. “I am an advanced mechanism with the potential to learn and grow as I absorb new information.”
Depending on the level of interest Tress showed, this conversation could keep them busy for hours. I took hold of his shoulders and eased him into the communication’s chair. I buckled him in and returned to my seat to fire up the thrusters.
“What is your primary function?” Tress asked Al as I flipped a couple of switches to ignite the main engine core. The Belle began to tremble, as if it were anxious to get back into space. The navsphere, silver ball with directional angles and numbers, hovered in front of me, its magnetic charge at maximum. I placed one hand on it as I used the other to grab the thruster lever.
“I serve mankind, more specifically Captain Daniel Quinn, on his various missions throughout the galaxy,” Al explained. “I process data, control the Kestrel Belle during autopilot mode, and I am programmed with a subroutine that allows me to provide council to humans in times of strife.”
I snorted at that comment, never pegging Al as a psychiatrist. He was a good listener, though, I had to give him that much.
“I must admit I rarely get the chance to converse with other species,” Al continued. “If I am correct, your home planet Tristain has similar atmospheric conditions to human worlds, does it not?”
“I, uh, suppose so . . .” Tress said hesitantly. “Are you capable of operating a ship without a human to command you?”
He changed the subject about his home planet. Interesting, I thought.
“I am more than capable of handling ship operations. In fact, I would find it more accurate to say the Captain cannot operate the ship without me.”
“Har har,” I muttered, though he was telling the truth. Cruisers like this operated best with a handful of crewmates, namely an engineer, a communications officer, tactical officer, and the captain. Al covered three of the four most of the time.
I activated the dorsal thrusters. They fired toward the ground and slowly lifted the Belle into the air. Outside my shield window, the town of Karth shrank away. I spun the navsphere to the left, turning the Belle towards the sky, and then transferred power to the aft thrusters. We launched upward and the dull blue color grew darker and darker until finally we cleared the planet and saw nothing but the vast reaches of space.
The reason I joined the Earth Star Alliance years ago was to explore space and meet new alien cultures. After I was betrayed by Sarah King, my commanding officer, and locked up, I thought space would be my prison. Now I did everything I could to make it my freedom, but those days seemed few and far between when I was given missions like this one.
I set an automated course out of the Karthan solar system and engaged. Once we achieved a safe distance from inhabited planets, I could launch the ship into slingspace, a speed faster than light. I pulled out Damon’s memory drive from my pocket.
“Al,” I said as soon as there was a break in his conversation with Tress. “I want you to download this and replay all information”
I plugged the drive into an open access port on the console to my right.
“Yes sir,” Al said. “Processing . . . There appears to be audio and video files, twenty-four of them to be exact.”
“Can you determine which file might have the most pertinent data, anything about a request, or orders, maybe something about danger?”
The room was silent except for Tress and my breathing. I didn’t get a chance to learn what planet Damon came from, but I searched for Tristain on my star maps. Sector by sector the computer searched. I set my feet on the console and rested my hands behind my head.
A holographic image of Damon Derringer appeared in front of me and I nearly fell out of my chair. He wore the same suit as when I saw him—he must have recorded this message right before he found me.
“Captain Daniel Quinn, my name is Damon Derringer. I regret to admit that if you’re watching this recording, then I am most likely dead. I come to you now under grave circumstances. The planet Terra, my home, has been at war with its sister planet, Gaia, for 55 years. Millions of people are dying and I am asking you to help save our worlds.”
Apparently my plans were going to involve one minor alteration.
Three
The war between Damon’s home planet of Terra and its sister planet Gaia has been waged since before he was born.
“Captain,” Damon’s recording continued. “In the last two years, our planets decided that too much blood has been spilled, and thus a peace council was formed. Twelve of the highest ranking government officials signed a declaration in pursuit of a cease fire, one that will benefit both worlds and usher in an era of prosperity. But now the council is in danger. As I speak, members are being targeted for assassination, proof of which I obtained at great risk. This memory drive contains all the information you will need, as well as encoded passwords for my database on Terra. You must travel with haste and make contact with Harold Scott, commander of the Sentinels, the Terran security force.”
As I watched Damon’s hologram speak, I grew increasingly confused. What the hell was I supposed to do about this so called war? My skills in diplomatic relations were nonexistent. Besides, I never visited either planet and, to my knowledge, I didn’t know anyone who lived there.
Just turn off the hologram and think nothing more of it, I thought.
Nerves crept into my stomach and up my spine. Memories surfaced, some old, some recent, but they all had one thing in common: Every time helped someone, shit always blew up in my face. My best friend was captured and mutated into a cybernetic freak when I helped my old Captain, Gregory Smithson, escape from the hands of the mutinous Sarah King. And an alien I bonded with, Laraar, was killed by a woman whom I had tried to befriend and show mercy.
Why the hell would I want to be placed between two warring planets? How could that end in any good w
ay? What difference could I make? I considered asking Al to stop processing the information. If I did that, all I had to do was deliver Damon’s body home. But how many people could die from this war?
There were never minor casualties in war. The lives lost throughout history can’t be summed up by using numbers. I agreed to take Damon’s body home. I would already be there anyway, so why not look around? Would it be so bad to take a look around?
Yes, probably, but despite my trepidation I stayed silent and let Al continue the download.
You want to involve yourself because you care, I admitted to myself.
But why do I care? Was I seriously having an internal discussion with my conscience right now?
You care because of all the wrong that’s been done to you—Ashley’s murder, your failed jobs, the destruction and deaths on Dawn, Jason Hobbes. You can’t change the past, so you look for things you can change in the present and future.
I wanted to think of an argument against what I thought, but I couldn’t. The holographic video ended and Damon’s digital body dematerialized. I breathed in deep and let it out slow. I didn’t have to do this. All I needed to do was chart a new course, somewhere far away, and hide.
Hide, like a coward.
“Al,” I said, resolved. “While you’re processing the memory drive, I also need access to any records we have on the alien race known as Leondren. One of them was responsible for bombing the docking gate on Karth. We’re going to try and hunt him down.”
“Acknowledged, sir,” Al said. “Although that will not be difficult. There is a Leondren starship precisely 1,875 meters off our starboard bow.”
“What?”
“That will not be difficult. There is a Leondren—”
“Al, shut up! I heard what you said the first time!”
I cut the power on the thrusters and scanned the area Al mentioned. There was definitely something out there. I rotated the navsphere gently to bring the Belle into position facing the object, and then turned toward my operations console and zoomed in to the location I had submitted. I never got a chance to see the Leondren vessel up close, but the ship in front of me was the shape of a diamond with three separate wing structures on each side of her. The hull was a dark grey color, but my databanks couldn’t register the metal. Sensors indicated the ship was stationed at a higher altitude than the Belle and she was leaning down facing us, like a predator looking to strike.
Granak.
He denied every attempt I made at communication, and scans of his ship revealed weapons fully activated and charged. The time for talk was apparently over. He said his business, successfully intimidated me, and pissed me off at the same time.
“What’s happening?” Tress asked as he leaned over my shoulder.
“He’s waiting to see what I’m going to do,” I replied.
I wanted to attack, to fly in and unload a barrage of plasma, but his ship was superior to mine in weaponry alone and I didn’t even compare other systems yet. The Belle was agile, but could I really outmaneuver him if I made the decision to attack? I didn’t want to take that chance. My mission was to apprehend him, but I needed to face him on even ground, wherever that may be. I hated to admit it, but the best option was to turn and run.
Live to fight another day, a voice echoed inside my head. It wasn’t my voice, but that of Captain Gregory Smithson. He had said that to me after our successful escape from the Echelon.
“Al, do we have the coordinates for Terra?” I almost whispered as if Granak could hear me. I doubt he was going to let me escape, so we needed to be quick and precise.
“Affirmative, Captain. The course is entered into navigation.”
I reached to the slingspace primer, pushed it forward, and waited. The only way I could engage the ship faster than light was to keep my thrusters at half power, but if I did that Granak would have no problem advancing and taking us out. I silently hoped that his ship wouldn’t detect my engines’ increasing energy so I could turn and launch us instantly once the core fully charged.
“All right then,” I breathed. I wiped my sweaty hands on my pants and placed them back on the navsphere. It trembled against the cool metallic device. “Tress, make sure you’re buckled up.”
I took my own advice and strapped myself securely into my seat. I breathed deep in an attempt to calm my nerves. Power levels rose and the soft hum of the Belle grew louder. Granak’s ship kept stationary. I imagined the human eyes of his feline face staring right at me, his mouth formed in an open smile with those sharp pointed teeth.
The slingspace engine core blinked green.
“Hard starboard,” I whispered.
I thrust my hand to the right. The sphere effortlessly spun, turning the ship. That's when Tress started mumbling something.
“Look out! Look out!” I translated too late.
The display screen in front of him flashed red. Granak had fired his weapons.
"Flux! Al, engage slingspace!"
I expected to see the stars around me shift and fade away as my ship launched, but instead the Belle flew off course. The bridge violently shook and the straps around my shoulders dug into me as I jerked forward.
"Captain, impact on the dorsal midsection. Slingspace has been deactivated."
Granak knew exactly where to hit me. I grabbed the navsphere and activated the main thrusters. The Belle groaned but responded and we shot forward.
"Al, keep an eye on Granak and prepare to drop the aft weapons."
"Acknowledged. Leondren ship closing in at 300 meters. Mines are set and ready to deploy."
Granak's ship easily matched our speed as it fired another round. The disruptor fire missed but was close enough to make me hold my breath in anticipation of a hit. I took evasive maneuvers, turning left and right, diving down and shooting up. Every time I turned the Belle, I released one of the mines in the hopes that Granak wouldn't see it coming. I couldn't hear the explosions, but I felt the Belle shudder, the floor clanging. His weapons were locking on to the mines and destroying them shortly after I ejected them.
“We are dead!” Tress shouted from behind me.
“No we’re not,” I replied, though I wasn’t completely sure of that answer.
That’s when I remembered the marksmanship Granak displayed on Karth. He hit Damon in one shot, but after multiple attempts he either missed the Belle entirely or grazed her hull. He was toying with me. Just like back on the planet surface, he had no intention of killing me, but to what end? Was he going to give chase and fire at me until my power reserves drained out? Our two ships danced in the darkness of space. I lost track of how much time passed. Tress whimpered behind me, terrified.
"Al, divert power to the port thrusters and prepare to fire forward plasma guns," I said, tired of the battle being one-sided.
"Sir, that is not—”
"Just do it, Al!"
When the adjustments were completed, I cut power to the main thrusters and activated the port side. In the blink of an eye, the Belle spun 180 degrees and we faced Granak's ship.
"Fire!" I screamed. Two beams of pure green plasma erupted from my ship. A barrier of energy stopped the plasma from directly hitting his ship.
"Impact to vessel’s forward shields, Captain,” Al reported.
Flux. I returned all power to main thrusters and shot past Granak. He had more weapons and more defensive systems, but I turned toward him again and fired my plasma at his stern. Each hit met the same barrier as my first. I gritted my teeth. Anger fueled me, the same anger I used when I nearly shot Damon Derringer.
“Captain. This is futile. We will exhaust our plasma banks long before the Leondren’s shields fail. I recommend a full course correction back to Karth.”
Al wanted me to tuck my tail between my legs and run. That’s what I tried to do in the first place, but Granak had other ideas. He wanted me to attack him.
He wanted me to attack him, I thought in a moment of clarity. He’s trying to cripple my ship . . . and
I’m helping him.
My slingspace drive was out of commission and the main thruster control felt sluggish the more I pushed the ship. If I continued my attack I would be a sitting duck, completely defenseless.
“Stars above, Al,” I said out loud. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Set course back to Karth. Maybe we can get the bastard to follow us back.”
If I didn’t know any better, I thought I heard Tress sigh.
That’s when Granak resumed his attack. His ship turned toward us, the exact same tactic I used against him earlier, and unloaded multiple disruptor blasts. Every one hit my ship. The lights on the bridge flashed red, a sign that hull integrity was dropping. In any other circumstance that would have scared the shit out of me; a hull breech on a ship this old could tear her apart. But before I could react, the computer station in front of me exploded and showered me with sparks and smoke.
Tress screamed; the sound came out of him like the combination of a loud whistle and the screech of an earth elephant. I threw up my hands and turned my head to guard from the damaged console and I saw his eyes shimmer deep, neon indigo. He was more terrified than when I threatened his life and I didn’t blame him. I told him we weren’t going to die, but the onslaught of weapons fire convinced me of that inevitability. In those last few seconds, I regretted bringing him onboard.
“Tress,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
I closed my eyes and waited for the Belle to shudder, to split apart and suck me into the void of space, but the attacks stopped. The Belle didn’t break apart like I thought she might. When I opened my eyes, Granak’s ship was right in front of me, on the other side of the shield window. He won and I lost, and this felt like his way of gloating. After a minute or so, the ship turned and thrust out of sight. A ripple effect from his ship traveling faster than light caused the Belle to drift backward. I unbuckled my harness and stood carefully. The left side of the blackened main console still smoked. The right side seemed intact as well as the navsphere, but when I attempted to turn the ship nothing happened. The thrusters were offline.
Antagonize (From the Logs of Daniel Quinn Book 2) Page 3