“I passed out during my training for accelerated g-forces,” Akira affirmed. “And the lesson was much tamer than this. I wasn’t sure a pilot could avoid a blackout pulling a Blind Swallow.”
“Pretty sure spite is what’s fueling her efforts,” replied Aleksy. “Kat loves making doubters eat their words.”
Stephanie glanced sidelong wearing a grin. “Sweating a little under the collar, Diego?”
“She still needs to land,” he countered. “Kat might’ve lost so much oxygen to her brain that she forgets the procedure.”
“You’re grasping at nothing. All of us here could land a starfighter in our sleep, we’ve done it so many times.”
Katarina wobbled as she approached the hangar, compensating for wind shear and her own sluggish piloting. The starboard wing tilted at a precarious degree until she wrenched to port and held course while dropping her velocity. Katarina barely managed to trigger the starfighter’s emergency ventral nozzles, decelerating the Marauder before its fuselage scraped over the tarmac and slowed to a halt with a simulated spray of concrete fragments and sparks.
Exterior holographic displays disappeared, the simulator powered down and its canopy lifted with a whirring of motors. Katarina crawled from the cockpit and flopped onto the floor like an undignified seal. Gagging and choking on air, she slumped against the machine and strove to lift one quivering hand toward Diego.
“Pay up…compadre,” she groaned.
“That was no landing. You practically gouged a hole in the hangar floor, and you didn’t even lower your landing gear.”
“You s-said I…I couldn’t…crash, and I didn’t. Those w-were your terms…not mine. I w-win.”
Riotous laughter and cheers erupted while Katarina wilted sideward and drooled on shiny tiles.
The video faded to black, yanking Clara back to the current day, and she found herself reaching out to touch the screen as her cheeks moistened. “Kat spent the next two weeks recovering in a hospital. We fashioned her a medal from a gold beer can to commemorate the victory and pinned it to her gown. Colonel Nykvist gave Kat a hell of lecture from her bedside, but she claimed it was worthwhile.”
DO YOU WISH ME TO PLAY OTHER RECORDINGS CAPTURED BY FLYING OFFICER SHALHOUB?
“Not…not now.” Clara rubbed her flushed cheeks and swallowed a lump lodged in her throat. “But thank you, Chirpy. I’m glad you showed me that.”
*
Kyla gazed into the bleak nothingness of realspace dotted by distant stars and a crimson nebula tinged with streaks of violet. “I hate interstellar space.”
Taylor stared through the viewport, hands resting on his belted hips. Somewhere beyond their vision of the cold blackness were sparse rock and ice lumps tumbling in a chaotic weave, each asteroid separated from its neighbors by thousands and thousands of empty kilometres. A luminous white glob shone far in the distance. “We’ll return to the comforts of stellar space soon enough.”
Harun lifted a boot over the threshold and clunked onto the bridge once more with Tessa close behind. He fiddled with a holstered firearm strapped to his thigh and stood beside Taylor. “We’ve reached the Tethra system?”
Connor spun around in his chair and scratched an earlobe. “More like the edge. A couple dwarf planets are still farther out than us, but we haven’t entered the heliosphere yet.”
“We couldn’t be sure there weren’t Delbaethi warships in another system your government claims as its property,” explained Taylor, returning to his seat with a satisfied sigh. “Scouting from a distance seemed a sensible thing to do.”
“Have you detected signs of intrusion or communication chatter?”
“Nope,” Alexis answered. “Tethra is as quiet as a tomb.”
“I’d prefer it to remain that way.” Harun glanced at Taylor casually lounging in his frayed chair. “What damage has your ship sustained, Captain?”
“Less than we’d feared. Hull integrity above the starboard wing mount is limping along at seventy-three percent. Engine stability felt a tad wonky, so Connor shut down couplings three and seven to isolate the volatility. Seems to have done the trick, and Evan can bury his nose in our engines to see what can be patched. Plus a few intersystem connections are buggy. Running the diagnostic command alone took three times to initialize. Rinko has a heap of debugging and mending to perform. I don’t envy all the unpaid labor she has coming her way.”
Rinko turned to scowl at him. “You could always help, Captain.”
“Nah. One of us needs to coerce others to get their jobs done.”
“You’re the definition of an overburdened mind,” she mumbled. “Don’t rightly know how you can stand it, all this suffering.”
“I manage.” Taylor clasped both hands behind his head, leaned backward and stared up at Harun. “Point is, I’d feel chipper if we docked at a repair station in the coming days.”
“Not on our schedule,” the officer replied.
“You might feel different if we find ourselves in another nasty skirmish.”
“We won’t.”
“No hesitation, no anxiety. Get a load of the confidence brimming in this bloke. Although you do seem strangely unperturbed for a fellow who narrowly fled a planetary invasion, so maybe I should give you the benefit of the doubt.” Taylor plunked his boots on the floor and clapped both hands. “Moment of truth, Major Sleuth. Or moment of trust, I suppose. Time to share our destination.”
“Wait.” Alexis scrunched her brow and held one finger poised above an illuminated screen. “I’m identifying an odd signal.”
Taylor directed his attention to her consoles. “Odd how?”
“The frequencies seem to be erratic, and I can’t make sense of its source yet.”
“Should we care?” inquired Connor. “There’s always communication traffic near inhabited systems. In case you forgot, a planet did just suffer an invasion. There’s bound to be signals bouncing in all directions.”
Alexis frowned and glanced over her shoulder. “Except this one’s coded with the highest distress level, is at least a day old and originated in this system.”
“What’s the message?” Taylor questioned.
“Would you believe I don’t know? The transmission is fuzzy and unclear. Something is preventing it from being pumped at full strength.” Alexis tapped her chin and stared at the illuminated screen, perhaps hoping to unlock its secrets through willpower alone. “Wait, I have an idea. Rinko, there’s a subsidiary node orbiting Ethniu. Can you slice into its systems?”
“I wish more people asked me questions like that,” she responded, idly playing with a strand of black hair. “Obviously I can, though why am I doing this?”
“Server satellites cache all incoming and outgoing communications. Sometimes for a day, sometimes for weeks, depending on how much traffic it encounters. If you can hack your way into its archives, I might be able to pull a clear version of the message.”
Rinko swiveled in her chair and brought a holographic console to life. “Not that I need an excuse to slice, but it’s always nice having one.”
Taylor stared beyond the viewport into blackness sprinkled with stars, imagining an unknown vessel trapped in the void. “Could the signal be an error, some sort of data fault?”
“Might be,” Alexis admitted. “I won’t know unless Rinko can get me into the archives. But isn’t this worth checking if someone is in trouble?”
Harun lifted a bushy eyebrow toward his fellow operative. “Were there any military maneuvers scheduled for the previous week in Tethra?”
“Not any officially sanctioned ones.” Tessa shrugged and leaned against a bulkhead. “At least not that I can remember.”
“The Tethra system is infrequently used by merchants and other travelers while in transit,” Harun affirmed. “We don’t have the time to stop if this is a civilian starship calling for help.”
“That’s a charitable attitude,” murmured Alexis.
“I’m concerning myself with the billions on Elat
ha. Make no mistake, I would sacrifice every traveler we come across on these spacelanes if it means finding a way to help all those innocent lives back home.”
“I don’t know how you independent spacers think life works out here in the wider galaxy,” Taylor said, “but us civilized folk don’t leave stranded crews to die in the cold. Especially crews that might pay for the privilege of a rescue.”
“You’re the picture of chivalry, smuggler,” muttered Tessa.
“I’m past the firewall,” Rinko declared. “Not impressive. You spooks should have a chat with your government about that.”
“It’s a subsidiary server node. It isn’t supposed to be inaccessible.”
“Well, I doubt it’s meant to be this accessible.” She tapped several keys and cracked her knuckles in satisfaction. “Sending the data to your console, Lex.”
“Not much beyond ordinary traffic over the last several days,” Alexis announced. “Continual communications from an automated outpost stationed on Erimon. And I mean continual. There’s consistently a routine transmission every fifteen minutes without exception. I hope this is all filtered through a computer on the other end, because I feel awful for any desk-bound stooge who needs to tick these reports off one by one.” Alexis paused with her finger touching the holographic keyboard. “Huh. Thirty-one hours ago the transmissions went offline. No reason for the shutdown or any maintenance planned. But there was a red flag seven hours before that, and it’s listed as classified.” She cast a hopeful eye over one shoulder. “Feel like granting me access?”
“Not particularly,” answered Harun.
“Doesn’t matter. The intriguing aspect is what came after. Twenty-nine hours ago a new communication started, on a high-level unencrypted military frequency, though it’s maddeningly randomized and erratic. There’ll be three or four bursts within five minutes, and then nothing for another twenty. I think whoever sent it was trying to use your server node to strengthen the signal, since half the time your satellite only received static rather than the intended communication. If I had to guess, I’d say this was patched together in a hurry because something wasn’t working.”
Harun paced closer to Alexis’ sensor station, his interest evidently perked. “Where was the transmission heading?”
“Two intended endpoints, actually. One went directly to Elatha, and the other destination was the Cethlenn system. Your navy has orbital shipyards there, doesn’t it?”
Harun nodded and rubbed his scruffy jawbone. “Someone was trying to contact a military authority.”
“And by the messy, convoluted way they tried, this was probably a desperation gambit. Whoever sent this must know it might not even work. If I’m having trouble restoring the message, there’s not much chance anyone in Tuatha or Cethlenn will even notice. The distressed ship is lucky we happened to cruise through the neighborhood.”
“What can you tell me of the message itself?”
“Voice only, rather than text or video.” Alexis scowled at the display and bit her lower lip. “It’s too distorted for me to reassemble, but give me time and I can probably reconstruct it.”
“But there’s no doubt this distress beacon is using a military frequency?”
Fingertips sprouting stubby, bitten nails tapped and dragged icons over the screens. A slender silver bracelet danced on her wrist. “None.”
“Can you determine where the appeal originated?”
Alexis frowned and waggled one hand. “Somewhere in the neighborhood of Erimon. It’s close to your outpost, but I can’t pinpoint the location more.”
Harun straightened and stepped backward from the console. “Captain MacDowell, commence an insystem microjump to Erimon.”
“I think what you mean to say is you’d like to request we do so,” Taylor responded, his tone cheerful though holding a stern edge. “You’re new here, so I’ll excuse your confusion as to where orders come from.”
“I see you’ve lost your benevolent attitude of several minutes ago.”
“Charitable toward civilians and business folk. I draw a line at getting drawn into military matters. Getting roped into your mercy mission was bad enough, but I have no keen interest in hopping feet-first into yet another perilous military venture.”
Tessa snorted laughter, though the reaction bore no humor. “That didn’t take long, I see.” She shoved off the wall and strolled into the bridge, unfolding her arms so one hand could drift closer to a firearm holstered on her hip. “Let’s phrase this a different way, before you start to misinterpret which of us gives orders. One of my comrades might be in danger, and we’re the only ship close enough to offer help. You either take us there as Major al-Ajlani commanded, or I’ll begin reducing the number of crewmembers you have.”
“They must’ve neglected to teach sums at whatever intelligence academy you attended,” Kyla stated. “Two is less than seven. Dangerously less, in fact.”
“Haven’t you heard?” asked Taylor, his eyes studying Tessa. “Military types are all about bluster rather than substance. But bluster won’t work on my ship. We shoot fools who make threats and think themselves untouchable.”
Tessa’s handgun cleared its holster at a frightening speed, the barrel aimed at Taylor. “Push me and I will push back harder than you can withstand.”
“If you’re keen on taking a bullet in the spine for your troubles,” he responded, his voice calmer and steadier than he felt.
Harun stepped closer to the fray in a slow, nonthreatening pace. “Much as we each might find these terms disagreeable, we’re likely to be allies for the foreseeable future. I suggest we find common ground before we turn this bridge into a bloodbath.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve needed to clean strangers’ blood from the walls,” Kyla hissed. “We still have the tools on hand from the last time it happened, in fact.”
“You ever bury your friends and comrades?” questioned Tessa. “Because that’ll be the end result today if you insist on provoking us.”
Rinko remained in her seat with each hand raised in a submissive gesture, though her face was contorted in simmering frustration. “All of you gun-toting, brainless twerps need to bring down your threats. We aren’t in the cargo hold anymore. You put a bullet in our navigational equipment and no one is leaving this system. We’ll all die floating through interstellar space together. There aren’t any other options.”
“What’ll it be, Major?” questioned Taylor, his eyes still on Tessa. “Is the intelligence asset going to put some of that vaunted critical thinking to use?”
“Stand down, Tessa,” ordered Harun.
His features twisted as though the words tasted unpalatable to his sensibilities, though Tessa showed no recognition of her superior officer. Taylor idly mused whether this would be his second time shot today, fatally this time no doubt, until Harun spoke again.
“Specialist Dirksen?”
Tessa withdrew her weapon with a flourish and shoved its barrel into her holster, all without removing venomous eyes from Taylor. “Yes, Major.”
Harun shifted his stern gaze from Tessa to Taylor, and there was no mistaking the icy undercurrent of menace on his face. “This ship, as it pertains to Elathan military matters, is now under my direct command. I will not ask its crew to risk their lives needlessly, or direct you to launch suicide runs on warships. But when I deem the circumstances to overlap with my assignment, I’ll have the final word.”
“You and me will need to have a frank discussion over these terms I seem to have unknowingly agreed to,” Taylor said. “Particularly the notion my ship belongs to anyone else.”
Harun smiled, and like Tessa there was no warmth to the gesture. “I’d be happy to.”
Connor drummed his fingertips over an armrest and cleared his throat in an intentionally loud and obnoxious manner. “Not that I’m keen to take sides, or that my position would even be in doubt, but maybe we should save the confrontation for another time. There’s someone out there who needs our h
elp.”
“I wouldn’t mind putting aside our differences if it means saving a life,” Alexis said. She shrunk back in her chair and pretended to be fascinated with an inert console when several hostile stares swung in her direction. “Just saying.”
“If the captain gives his go ahead,” Kyla asserted.
“Connor, make the jump to Erimon. Let’s go see what can be done about this distressed ship.” Taylor paused and cast a weary glower toward Harun. “So we’re clear, this isn’t me capitulating. Someone needs our help, and as I said earlier, we’re a charitable sort when the mood strikes us.”
“Whatever makes the choice more palatable for you, Captain.”
“I should be able to reassemble the actual message once we’re in the vicinity of its origin,” affirmed Alexis. “Then we’ll know more about what we’re dealing with.”
Connor swung his chair around and let nimble fingers dart across his consoles. “Prepping the inducing actuator for a microjump to Erimon. Distance is approximately seven hundred and fifty-eight astronomical units. Don’t get comfortable folks, since our travel time will only be a hair longer than three minutes. Find a seat or leave the bridge.”
Taylor strapped in while Kyla did likewise, offering a final glower toward their guests. Alexis and Rinko had never unbuckled following their departure from Elatha, which left no seat unoccupied.
Kyla gave the operatives a smug wave and smirk. “No more chairs up here. Guess our tagalongs will have to saunter back to the lounge. We’ll give a holler if anything interesting happens.”
Another humorless grin appeared on Harun’s face before he departed with his colleague.
“Primed and ready on your word, Captain,” said Connor.
Taylor gave their visitors several seconds to find chairs like a gracious host and nodded to his pilot. “Take us in.”
Stars coalesced into a boundless kaleidoscope of lines and colors and the Solar Flare vaulted deeper into the Tethra system, toward whatever awaited.
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