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

by Lindsay Buroker

  “What an ugly dustball,” Sadangi muttered, gazing toward the brownish-red planet growing larger in the star-dotted space ahead of them. Snarls of red clouds covered half the surface, promising unpleasant weather for those who lived down below. “Made even uglier by all the wreckage floating around,” he added with a growl, changing course again to avoid a charred piece of hull. “Those used to be our bases, you know. And there was a shipyard in orbit here.”

  “I know,” Leonidas said quietly.

  He did not need a news reporter to tell him what he had known since he’d seen that asteroid explode. The empire had not been ideal or even fair sometimes—what government that large ever could be?—but it had represented peace and stability. Leonidas had no idea what the Alliance would represent, but he feared that it had put all of its efforts into tearing down the existing government and wouldn’t have the resources to create any kind of stability in the system, at least not in the first few years.

  “There are Alliance ships all over the place,” Sadangi said, pulling up a holo of the sensor display. “I’m going to do my best to avoid them and set us down near the coordinates. Or maybe right on top of them. They look like they’re in the middle of the desert. We won’t want to wander around down in the heat. We’re low on water as it is. I sure hope these Starseers want to see us.” He glanced at Thorian.

  The boy did not respond. Since the destruction of the asteroid, he had been a quiet passenger, resisting attempts to be drawn into conversation. He sat cross-legged in the cargo area now, a set of interconnectable building blocks strewn across the flat surfaces. He was clicking the pieces into a model of a space station. Over the days, the blocks had been everything from bridges to buildings to castles to flights of the imagination that Leonidas could not identify.

  “Is that Primus 7?” he asked, waving to the current project.

  Thorian nodded. “The station is elegant.”

  “Not the word usually used for a cesspit full of drunks and gamblers,” Sadangi said.

  Thorian frowned at the back of his seat, but continued locking pieces together. “From the outside, it’s elegant. People sometimes mess up the insides of structures.”

  Sadangi snorted. “Can’t argue with that.”

  “Can I help build the lower tower?” Leonidas asked, waving at the blocks. Most of the times he had succeeded in getting the boy to talk in the last few days had been by asking about his projects.

  “Yes, but it’s real complex. Most people aren’t able to do it without blueprints,” Thorian said.

  Was that a hint of arrogance? Leonidas smiled faintly. Thorian had said he was good with mechanical things, so he must know where his talents lie.

  “I didn’t have time to download any blueprints before… before,” Thorian finished glumly.

  “I’ll try, anyway.” Leonidas twisted in his seat and pulled some blocks over for his own use.

  Sadangi raised his eyebrows at seeing his brawny cyborg soldier passenger playing with blocks, but he did not say anything. He was scanning the readouts, looking for trouble ahead. Leonidas would not be surprised to find that trouble waiting for them. The Alliance soldiers might have been distracted by their victory at the asteroid, but someone on that warship would have remembered the bomber eventually, and the fact that it carried the emperor’s son on it. He was still shocked that someone in the Alliance considered the boy too important to let live. Or too dangerous, perhaps, he amended, thinking of those mental powers.

  “You’re doing it,” Thorian said, surprise in his voice.

  Leonidas had barely been paying attention to what his hands were doing, so it took him a moment to realize Thorian referred to his block structure. “It’s not my first tower.”

  “You’ve played with Klikblocks before?”

  “No, but I designed towers with software in school,” Leonidas said. “Whole buildings and even a space station, in fact.”

  “In school?” Thorian wrinkled his nose, looking over his dented, sooty armor. “You went to school?”

  Sadangi made a noise that sounded like a muffled giggle. “He had to, Your Highness. He’s an officer. He’s got a degree, though I would have figured it was in something like Mutilation and Maiming rather than building things.”

  “I switched from a mechanical and civil engineering major to military science once I joined the fleet,” Leonidas said. He sometimes regretted that choice. The military degree had been useful, and easier to fulfill via the distance learning that his job required, but he wondered sometimes what it would have been like to see some of his designs turned into actual projects.

  “Were there at least some Mutilation and Maiming electives?” Sadangi asked.

  “A few.”

  Leonidas handed Thorian the tower to add to the rest of the space station, though he did not know if there were enough blocks to complete the project. As he watched the boy lock the pieces together, he wondered what it meant that of all the things Thorian could have grabbed to take with him, he had chosen the box of blocks. Had he, too, had dreams of becoming an engineer or perhaps an architect someday? Dreams that had died at the same time his older brother had? Before, when he had not been the heir, he might have pursued some personal interest for a career, but now, he would be expected to step into his father’s role.

  Or, Leonidas realized numbly, perhaps he wouldn’t. If the empire had truly fallen, what role would be left for the boy? Hiding and surviving until the Alliance forgot about him, or stopped worrying about him as a threat, and then attempting to live a normal life?

  “I’m glad you can build a tower, Colonel,” Thorian said, nodding in satisfaction as the structure came together. “It’s important not to just…” He hesitated and bit his lip.

  “Mutilate and maim?” Sadangi suggested.

  Leonidas snorted, but Thorian nodded.

  “Building things is better than destroying them,” he said solemnly.

  “I agree,” Leonidas said, “but unfortunately, the latter is far easier for human beings to do.”

  “Someone’s trying to hail us,” Sadangi said, pointing to a flashing indicator on the console.

  “Unless the Starseers are telling us where to land, I don’t think we want to talk to anyone else here.” Leonidas eyed the blips representing the Alliance ships, some coming and going, some orbiting Dustor. For a backwater planet, it was a busy place right now.

  “We’re not even close enough to enter orbit yet,” Sadangi said. “I doubt anyone from the planet is hailing us.”

  “Any chance it’s our people? Are the orbital shipyards still in imperial hands?”

  “Uh.” Sadangi eyed the sensor display. “The orbital shipyards are gone.”

  “Is there anything the Alliance didn’t blow up?” Leonidas growled, thinking of Thorian’s words. And his own. Easier to destroy, indeed.

  “The planet is still there. No telling who’s controlling the cities.”

  “Just ignore the hail and take us down to land.”

  “You don’t think we should check in with the port authority down there?” Sadangi asked.

  “If memory serves, most of this planet was run by the mafia and dubious corporations even when the empire was at its height of power and control. The throne never cared much about the resourceless dustball.”

  “So you don’t think there is a port authority?” Sadangi asked.

  “Oh, there are probably twenty of them.”

  “All right. I’m going to try to slip in on the night side of the planet. Maybe everyone there will be sleeping. Or distracted by that storm. Those clouds are ugly. Uhm.”

  “Problem?” Leonidas asked.

  “There are three ships coming our way.”

  Leonidas left Thorian to his blocks and turned his attention to the planet ahead of them and the display floating in the air around the pilot’s seat. Sadangi pointed toward three separate blips, all of which were heading in the bomber’s direction.

  “Maybe you better set us do
wn anywhere you can,” Leonidas murmured.

  “Maybe.”

  Sadangi pointed the nose of the bomber straight toward a snarl of red clouds covering the night side of Dustor. Flying in through that storm would not make for a pleasant ride, but neither would being fired upon.

  “You may want to put your blocks away,” Leonidas said, watching as the ships kept coming. The planet grew larger in front of them, blocking out the stars and everything else that had been in their view. “It’s going to get bumpy.”

  “I didn’t get to finish the solarium dome,” Thorian said, his voice more sad than argumentative. He started unfastening the station in chunks, returning the blocks to the box in his bag.

  Leonidas imagined a future for him where he was constantly on the run, constantly having to disassemble or abandon half-started projects, and all he could feel was sorrow. Maybe the Starseers would be good enough at hiding that they could give him some stability.

  The comm panel flashed again, insistently.

  “Is the same ship hailing us?” Leonidas asked.

  “No, that’s someone else. We’re popular.”

  “A rare experience for me.”

  “I’ve heard cyborgs don’t get invited to many parties.”

  Thorian looked at Leonidas curiously. Leonidas did not intend to explain that people were too busy fearing the fleet’s cyborg soldiers to invite them to social events.

  “Only those thrown by other cyborgs,” was all he said.

  “Sounds insular,” Sadangi said.

  “Sometimes it’s just easier.”

  “Two Strikers and a dreadnought,” Sadangi said, pointing out the three ships closing on them. “The dreadnought’s weapons are already hot. I guess they’re irked that we didn’t respond to their party invitation.”

  “Our shields are at full capacity again, right?” Leonidas had helped with those repairs, which had involved wedging as much of his body as possible into the cargo area so he could reach the panel in the back.

  “Yes, but it won’t take many hits from that big ship to drain them.”

  “Then you better fly faster.”

  “Thanks for the tip.”

  Leonidas eyed the flashing comm and finally tapped the button to answer it. He doubted anything good would come of a conversation with the Alliance, but maybe it would buy them a few more seconds.

  “This is the gypsy ship, Taymount 4,” Sadangi said before Leonidas could speak. “Is there a reason you gentlemen are chasing us?”

  A woman answered, sounding prim and unamused. “Your ident matches that of an imperial bomber that fled Perun a few days ago, gypsy ship.”

  “Does it? I knew this deal was too good to be true. We picked it up at a swap meet on Delta 43. Grandma, didn’t I say this deal was too good to be true?” Sadangi’s gaze flicked toward Leonidas, as if he would answer as “Grandma.”

  Leonidas gave him a flat look.

  Sadangi muted the comm. “What’s the matter, cyborg? Can’t give me a falsetto?”

  The ship jolted, pitching them sideways against their harnesses. The dreadnought had come into range and was shooting at them.

  “If you lower your shields and surrender the boy, we will let you live, gypsy captain,” the Alliance woman said.

  Sadangi un-muted the comm. “What guarantees do you give? And what about my other gypsy passenger? Does he get to live too?” He glanced at Leonidas.

  Leonidas arched his eyebrows. He assumed Sadangi was playing the same game that he had thought to play, buying time, but even the hint that he might be willing to give up Thorian made him uneasy.

  “The cyborg?” The woman snorted.

  Sadangi muted their side again. “I think that was a no. You must have pissed them off when you broke their windows.”

  “You broke some of their ships.”

  “What can I say? People hate cyborgs more than they hate pilots.” Sadangi smirked, as if it was a joke. Leonidas found too much truth in it and only frowned in return.

  To his surprise, Sadangi thumped him on the chest. “Sorry. We’ll—”

  “You have ten seconds to decide, gypsy ship,” the woman said. “Surrender or we’ll destroy all of you.”

  “Ten seconds?” Sadangi asked. “That’s it? This is a moderately large decision, don’t you think?”

  The woman did not answer.

  Leonidas reached forward and muted the comm. “Can we reach that storm and lose them in the clouds?”

  “Possibly,” Sadangi said, “but storms on Dustor aren’t anything to sniff at. That’s covering a third of the planet, and I can tell it’s wicked from here. We could crash.”

  “I assumed that was likely, regardless.”

  “Because we’re being pursued or because you don’t trust my flying skills?”

  A white light flashed behind them as an e-cannon blast struck their rear shields, throwing Leonidas against his harness.

  Sadangi cursed. “I guess our ten seconds are up.”

  “Take us down,” Leonidas said. “Best possible speed.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  “Nice of you to notice.”

  “You’re not feeling uppity because I haven’t been sir-ring you, are you?”

  “It would have been appropriate.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Sadangi gripped the flight stick with both hands, his face locked in a visage of concentration as they raced toward the dark swath of clouds. The Alliance ships, with the dreadnought leading, followed on their tail, all three craft firing now.

  Leonidas had the feeling that the Alliance hadn’t truly wanted them to surrender.

  He looked back at Thorian, hoping they hadn’t condemned the boy to his death. Thorian’s face was grave, but Leonidas could not tell what he was thinking.

  The bomber trembled as it flew into the gravitational pull of the planet and picked up speed. The heat waves from their friction seemed to roll away from the nose of the craft.

  “That storm is uglier than a snagor’s cud,” Sadangi said, as they passed into the lower atmosphere. “Bumpy doesn’t begin to describe what flying through it is going to be like. We’ll hit the edge in thirty seconds. Brace yourselves.”

  Leonidas gripped the console in front of him, hating having his fate in someone else’s hands. Poor Thorian did not even have a harness. He wedged himself in behind the pilot’s seat.

  The bomber jerked again as another blast struck it from behind. The dreadnought was sticking with them.

  “Down to thirty percent shield power,” Sadangi said quietly.

  The entire ship quaked. It felt like it might be ripped apart by their rapid descent even before the weapons could finish them off.

  “They’re not slowing down at all,” Sadangi said. “Those daredevils are going to follow us right into the storm.”

  The ship lurched, and Leonidas’s seat tried to launch him, helmet first, into the canopy. This time, it wasn’t weapons fire that was responsible. They had crossed into the clouds, the stormy air causing turbulence that bucked and rocked their craft like a leaf in the wind. Gusts screeched past outside, raking the hull, thunderously loud, especially after the quiet of space.

  Sadangi muttered something to himself—counting?—then slowed down and banked. Wind buffeted them, throwing them around in their harnesses.

  A pained grunt came from the cargo area.

  “Here,” Leonidas said, gesturing to Thorian. He pulled the boy into his lap and locked his arms around him.

  Thorian would probably believe himself too old to sit in someone else’s lap, but nothing would break Leonidas’s grip short of his own death. It would be safer this way.

  Another jolt pitched the entire ship sideways. Leonidas was careful not to make his grip too tight. As he had learned early on after the surgery where he had received his implants, it was easy to underestimate his strength.

  “They’re still firing,” Sadangi said, taking them through a series of evasive maneuvers, the wind fighting
him at every turn. “I’m trying to lose them.”

  Lightning flashed somewhere nearby. For a second, the swirling black clouds lit up, but that light soon disappeared, smothered. It had been dark the whole time since they had approached on the planet’s night side, but now it was like being stuffed inside a coffin.

  The holodisplay flickered around Sadangi’s head, the view of the terrain below and the ships behind alternating with flashes of white static. Rain beat at the cockpit, reducing visibility outside. Without the sensor display, they were effectively blind.

  The wind rocked them, turning them halfway onto their side. Sadangi ground his teeth so loudly that Leonidas heard it, even over the screeching gales. Lightning flashed again, revealing the tendons tensed in his neck, the death grip with which he held the stick.

  “Where’s the damned bottom to this storm?” he growled. “We should be—”

  Something loomed out of the thick clouds ahead and lights appeared. The dreadnought. Thorian jerked in surprise.

  “They’re going to fire,” he blurted.

  Cursing again, Sadangi pushed on the stick, diving, trying to take them under the dreadnought. Leonidas also cursed, grabbing the weapons controls around Thorian.

  He rotated the guns up and fired as they flew under the belly of the dreadnought. The bomber’s weapons were tiny and inadequate against the much larger ship. Bolts of energy struck the dreadnought’s shields and disappeared without piercing them. He might as well have been firing at a moon.

  The clouds thickened, and the Alliance ship disappeared from sight. Leonidas thought they might escape without taking a hit—maybe the dreadnought had been as surprised to see them as they had been to see it.

  Then something slammed into them so hard that the bomber flipped end over end. An alarm shrieked in the cockpit, battering Leonidas’s eardrums as he was hurled left and right in his harness. His helmet clunked the side of the canopy.

  “Shields are down,” Sadangi yelled.

  “Get us on the ground,” Leonidas said, even though he knew Sadangi was trying to do just that.