[Fallen Empire 00.5 - 03.0] Star Nomad Honor's Flight Starfall Station Starseers Last Command

by Lindsay Buroker

  “So, Abelardus. Any chance you can wave your Staff of Power and clear the way ahead so I can see where we’re going?”

  “We have no wish to clear the mists. They serve us well. I will ensure that you do not crash. Veer now to the northwest. There’s another mountain ahead.”

  Alisa could not see anything but the fog, and her instruments were spinning uselessly, but she obeyed. She had no desire for more close-up encounters with ice-smothered cliffs.

  Her cameras were back online, and she glimpsed the six hover sleds turning to follow her. Abelardus and the female Starseer—Ji-yoon—had remained on the ship when the Nomad had taken off, Ji-yoon to speak with Yumi. Alisa wondered if that was her mother. They hadn’t shared a hug or even acknowledged each other back in the cargo hold, but Ji-yoon also hadn’t lowered her hood. The other Starseers had returned to their own transportation, the one-person sleds. Four of those sleds had riders and two were flying themselves, following along with the pack. Even though automated cars and ships were not uncommon, Alisa couldn’t help but think those people were controlling the unmanned sleds with their minds.

  “Why do they call you Starseers?” Alisa asked.

  “With our mind’s eye, we can gaze into the suns in a way that would blind our physical eyes, and we can see them turning hydrogen into helium and creating massive energy.”

  “I guess they didn’t have vid dramas on Kir in the early days, huh?”

  Alisa could feel the man gazing at the back of her head, but she was focused on guiding them slowly through the mist and did not turn to gauge his expression. He had the look of a warrior with that staff, and he was probably another one, like Leonidas, who did not appreciate her humor. Whether he did or not, he did not respond. Out of the corner of her eye, she did catch the faintest of smiles from Leonidas. Maybe he appreciated her sarcasm more when it was directed at somebody else.

  “Turn back to the southwest,” Abelardus said.

  Alisa did so, skimming along about twenty feet above the ice. She was relieved not to be on the ice. She had seen the gaping black hole where the White Dragon ship had been. It had, indeed, sunk. Now that she was in the air, and unlikely to suffer the same fate, she allowed herself to feel slightly relieved about that. Since the ship had disappeared in The Hells’ Leftovers, she hoped the White Dragon wouldn’t necessarily blame Beck—or her. After all, hundreds, if not thousands, of ships had disappeared in these mists over the centuries, at least according to Leonidas’s encyclopedia article.

  Up ahead, the mist cleared slightly. Alisa leaned forward, as if being a couple of inches closer to the view screen would help her see better. A few stars came into view above them. As they continued forward, more of the frozen sea came into view, a tundra of ice stretching ahead and to the sides of them before disappearing into a horizon of gray fog. The gray was farther away now, but it was still there, and even the stars seemed hazy.

  Abelardus directed her to turn the ship a few degrees, and something different came into view, a sprawling structure that floated a hundred feet above the ice. It reminded Alisa of pictures she had seen from Old Earth, part medieval castle and part Taj Mahal, with decorative spires and domes mingling with blocky towers, all surrounded by a bluish-white crenellated wall. Most of the structure had that coloring, as if it were made from ice. Maybe it was.

  On one side, a landing dock paralleled the base of the wall with piers sticking out for shuttles and small spaceships to land on. An imperial warship would not have fit into any of the berths, but the Nomad should be able to come down on one of the larger piers. A small squadron of rusty old Strikers, Cobras, and bombers that looked like they had been purchased from a military surplus auction perched on the end of the dock. Apparently, the inhabitants did not use only their minds to defend themselves if someone got through the mists. There were also some small combat ships that Alisa wasn’t familiar with, having hulls the bluish-white of the sea of ice far below. All in all, it was not a huge force, but she could imagine it being sufficient when combined with their mental powers. She wondered how many of the ships that had disappeared over the centuries had actually been shot down.

  “Dock there,” Abelardus said, pointing to the landing facility.

  As they drew closer, Alisa noticed sophisticated automated artillery weapons along the walls. For people who wandered around the system in robes and sandals, they had some fancy tech here.

  She glanced at her comm as she piloted them toward the pier Abelardus indicated, expecting someone to more officially give her permission to land—or not. But maybe the Starseers were chatting back and forth in each other’s heads, and the ones inside already knew all about the Nomad’s arrival.

  With Abelardus and Leonidas watching on, Alisa was glad she piloted them onto the pier smoothly. Gravity had challenges that open space did not, and her freighter was anything but aerodynamic and maneuverable. They settled in with a soft thump, open air visible on the cameras to either side. She had no idea what held the floating temple in place. She hadn’t seen any thrusters or typical signs of hover technology under the structure.

  “Let’s go,” Abelardus said, striding away from Leonidas and toward the cargo hold and the exit. “Bring your artifact, Dominguez,” she heard him say from the walkway. “My people will want to see it.”

  “He may rethink bringing it here,” Leonidas said quietly.

  “Because it’s theirs, and they may want it back?”

  “If I’m right about its origins, it’s been centuries since it was in their hands, but possibly, yes.”

  Alisa unfastened her harness and stood, though she took a few minutes to lock down her controls so nobody else could fly the ship. Maybe it didn’t matter when these people could think the power on and off, but there was no reason to make it easy for someone to steal the Nomad—or tinker with her.

  “I’m going to grab a few more weapons from my quarters,” Leonidas said. “Wait for me before following the Starseer.”

  “More?” Alisa eyed the rifle slung over his shoulder, the blazer pistols at his hips, and she knew he had a lot more weapons built into his combat armor. He had removed his helmet since returning from the White Dragon ship, but he still wore everything else.

  “More,” he said firmly, and strode toward his cabin.

  Alisa finished locking down the ship, taking a moment to touch the stuffed spider hanging over the co-pilot’s seat. Her mother had always touched it for luck before takeoff and landing. Alisa had found that silly and superstitious, but she touched it now and thought about how Jelena had never seen it. Once, Alisa had resented the freighter and never expected to see it again. Somehow, the last couple of months had changed her perspective, and she hoped that she got a chance to share it with Jelena. The ship and the spider. Assuming a Starseer in training wasn’t too sophisticated for stuffed toys. Her musings turned uncomfortable as she imagined Jelena speaking into her mind, and maybe even reading her thoughts, the way Abelardus had.

  “Alisa?” Leonidas asked from the corridor, his voice muffled slightly by the helmet that he once again wore. Whatever he expected from the temple, it wasn’t someone greeting him with open arms.

  Alisa strode out to join him. She had Starseers to question. This was not the time to delay.

  “Nice grenade launcher,” she said, noting the largest of the weapons he had added to his panoply. “If they don’t tell me where they took my daughter, maybe you can blow up one of their pretty spired towers.”

  Leonidas’s eyebrows rose behind his faceplate.

  “That’s the kind of thing a gentleman does for a lady. And if you don’t consider me a lady, then that’s also the kind of thing a good passenger does for his pilot.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said as they headed for the exit.

  Alisa did not see the robed woman skulking in the cargo hold, but Yumi was at the pen, cooing to her chickens as she refilled their water dish. Alejandro stood next to the ramp, grimacing as the birds squawked enth
usiastically, sending feathers flying. They seemed particularly jubilant. Maybe they were making up for their subdued hour spent in the mists.

  Someone had opened the hatch already and lowered the ramp. Thankfully, eerie mist was not seeping into the ship this time. Had Abelardus already gone out to meet with his people? Alisa did not see him.

  Alejandro turned toward Leonidas as he and Alisa approached, looking a touch relieved. Alisa wagered that wasn’t the expression most people wore when they saw a cyborg in combat armor striding toward them while carrying a grenade launcher. Alejandro probably hoped to hide behind him out there.

  “Leonidas has agreed to blow up a tower for me,” Alisa said. “If you say nice things to him, he may blow one up for you too. To facilitate cooperation from the Starseers.”

  Alejandro frowned at her attempt at humor. “I don’t think you can strong-arm these people.”

  “But can you strong-grenade them?”

  “You’re an eccentric woman, Captain.”

  “And yet you keep flying places with me. Is it possible you’re not the most normal soul yourself?”

  “No.”

  Beck appeared on the walkway and jogged down the stairs. He wore three jackets and a fluffy fur cap that looked like it might have been forgotten in a remote corner of the Nomad by a passenger decades earlier. He was not in his combat armor, carrying only his knife and a pair of blazer pistols. He looked at Leonidas in his gleaming red suit and seemed surprised.

  “We dressing up for a fight?” Beck asked.

  “I’m hoping that won’t be necessary,” Alisa said.

  Leonidas rested his hand on his grenade launcher and said nothing.

  “Maybe the mech just wants to stay warm.” Beck eyed the open hatch, then rubbed his arms through his multiple layers of sleeves. “It’s cold enough to breed polar fangcats out there.”

  “What?” Alejandro asked.

  “You haven’t heard that expression?”

  “Polar fangcats only mate at temperatures of negative fifty degrees and below,” Yumi said, finishing with her chickens and walking over to join them. “It’s believed it’s because of the length of their gestation period. Mating in the dead of winter ensures their babies will be born in the warmth of summer, when the temperature averages negative twenty. That’s in the south pole though. The north pole is balmy in comparison.”

  “Balmy. Sure.” Beck rubbed his sleeves and eyed Leonidas’s armor again. Climate-controlled armor.

  Yumi headed down the ramp, waving to someone. Was the female Starseer waiting for her?

  A clang came from engineering, and Alisa called, “Mica, are you going to join us for this friendly meeting with interesting people?”

  “You don’t pay me enough to deal with Starseers,” Mica called back.

  “I did get you that new tank.”

  “You got that for yourself. It’s your ship.”

  “Are you sure? You’re the one who cuddles with it.”

  Perhaps talking about their distaste for Starseers wasn’t a good idea with the hatch open. Alisa could not see anyone from her position—the ramp led down to a landing pad that appeared to be made from variegated glass tiles—but she heard voices murmuring to each other. Yumi had already gone off to the side.

  Alejandro sighed, either at the magnitude of what he was about to do or at the silly conversation. “Let’s go, Leonidas.”

  He started down the ramp, but he paused to look back and make sure Leonidas was following before going far.

  “Such a brave man,” Alisa muttered. “Beck, unless you’re itching to see if any of the Starseers keep fangcats for pets, why don’t you stay here and keep an eye on Mica and the ship?”

  “Can I do that with the hatch closed and the heat on, Captain?”

  “Yes. In fact, I’d prefer the hatch to be closed. If anyone tries to get on the ship, let me know about it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a brief salute before sticking his hands under his armpits.

  Alisa hurried to catch up with Leonidas and Alejandro and followed them down, pulling her jacket tight since the air was every bit as chilly as one would expect from the north pole.

  The people who she had heard talking came into view. Six tall, fit men in Starseer robes stood in a row to the side of the ramp, each one holding one of those black staffs, the butts resting on the ground. Other Starseers that Alisa had seen in person or on vids had worn the black robes in such a way that they fully obscured their bodies, usually with the hoods up. The hoods were down on these men, and the robes were open in front, revealing fitted gray or white vests that showed off muscular chests. Alisa had always imagined the Starseers as crazy old men who relied upon their minds for everything and did not bother lifting so much as a pen with their fingers, so seeing people who clearly exercised surprised her. They weren’t as thickly muscled as a cyborg, but they definitely looked like warriors rather than scholars. More than warriors, she realized, as they scrutinized her, Alejandro, and Leonidas—especially Leonidas. Guards. These people looked like they were here to deal with trouble if it arose.

  Abelardus stood slightly to the side of the group, his robe also open to display a similar tight vest and muscular torso. Was he the leader of the squad? He looked a little older than the others, in his thirties perhaps, instead of his twenties like the younger warriors.

  Off to the side, Yumi stood with another Starseer, this one still wearing a hood.

  “Have you come to deliver that artifact to its rightful home?” one of the young warriors asked, looking at Alejandro. Maybe they weren’t the mind readers the stories said they were. If he knew what was in Alejandro’s thoughts, he would know the answer.

  The warrior frowned up and down Alejandro’s body—not impressed by the monk’s robe and pendant? The Starseers were reputed to be followers of the suns, like most in the system these days, but they had their own variation on the religion and might not be respectful of what Alejandro’s robe represented. Or maybe they could see into his mind and knew what Alisa suspected, that the robe was no more than a costume for him, a way to keep people from molesting him while he was on his quest. It hadn’t worked that well so far.

  “I have come in the hope that your people can help me research it,” Alejandro said, measuring his words carefully. “My understanding is that it may lead to a useful tool that could help return the system to a time of peace.”

  Abelardus snorted. “Perhaps in the way that the invention of the atomic bomb brought peace to Old Earth for a time.”

  Alisa’s Old Earth history was rusty, and she did not quite understand the statement, but she did get the hint that her suspicions might have been correct, that Alejandro sought a weapon, something that could be used to his people’s advantage. She scowled at him, though neither he nor Leonidas was paying attention to her. Neither were the Starseers. Aside from the one who had addressed Alejandro, the warriors were all glaring blazer bolts at Leonidas. He hadn’t said a word yet, nor had he pointed a weapon at them, but tension seemed to crackle in the air between them.

  Alisa hopped off the side of the ramp. She would help Leonidas if she could, but she didn’t want to be lumped in with Alejandro and his quest, especially if these people thought the orb should belong to them. Besides, she had a quest of her own. While the men glared at each other, she sidled over to Yumi, hoping that her Starseer might be someone with whom Alisa could start a dialogue.

  “A tool is only as good or evil as the man who wields it,” Alejandro said before Alisa could speak.

  “Says the man smithing a sword,” Abelardus responded.

  “I do not seek to wield that sword myself, nor do I expect you to go out of your way to do me any favors. All I ask is to be allowed to use your library to do some research. I will gladly pay a fee or compensate you in a fair manner for the time you let me access it.”

  “The answers you seek aren’t in the library. Others have sought them before.”

  “I may have insights
that they did not.”

  The young warrior who had spoken before, a pale-skinned man with brown hair pulled back in a bun, stirred again and looked at Abelardus. “He doesn’t seriously think we’re going to let him keep the Toriphant, does he? How did he even get it? We’ve had an eye out for it for two hundred years.”

  Alejandro shifted uneasily. Leonidas remained still, like a boulder unmoved by the power of the river flowing around it. Abelardus watched both men and did not respond to his colleague, not out loud.

  Abruptly, the warrior strode forward, lifting a hand as if to grab Alejandro’s satchel. At the same time, he glared at Leonidas, twitching a finger in his direction. Alisa was not sure what he intended to happen, but Leonidas lunged forward so fast she barely registered it. One instant, he was standing at Alejandro’s side. The next, he had wrapped his gauntleted hand around the Starseer’s throat.

  Abelardus took a step forward. He did not do anything else that Alisa could see, but both the Starseer and Leonidas were hurled from the ramp, flying ten feet in the air before landing.

  The blow was probably meant to knock the men free of each other, but Leonidas kept hold of his captive, twisting in the air to land on his feet, his hand still wrapped around the Starseer’s throat, the other gripping his arm to hold him upright too. They came down in such a way that the Starseer’s body was between Leonidas and the other warriors, all of whom had also surged forward, lifting their staffs as if they meant to charge in and pummel him.

  Alisa found her Etcher in her hand, but she did not aim it at anyone. She didn’t even remember grabbing it, but she kept it down, firmly reminding herself that this wasn’t her fight. Besides, what could she do that Leonidas could not? Further, the Starseer woman next to Yumi was looking at her and had probably noticed the gun in her hand.

  “Erick,” Abelardus said with a sigh, “if you’re going to launch a mental attack on a cyborg, you have to be faster than that. Especially if you’re doing it with one who seems like he’s had experience fighting our people before.” Abelardus’s eyes narrowed as he frowned at Leonidas.