Ghost Star (Ghost Star Adventures)

by Roger Eschbacher

  “Hex, go higher and keep an eye out for anything unusual,” said Galen.

  “Understood.”

  “Bora?”

  The hover tank pulled alongside Galen. “Yes, my Lord Bray.”

  “Continue your ground-level patrolling around our position as we walk into Zidac. I don’t want any surprises.”

  “Understood.” The hover tank banked to the left, then raced forward to resume patrolling.

  As they walked, Galen glanced to his right and saw Eria looking back, appraising him. His forehead creased. “What?”

  She shrugged and looked away. “Nothing.”

  Burr glanced up from his handheld and pointed out where various buildings used to stand. As far as Galen could tell, each pile of rubble resembled the next—formerly inhabited buildings reduced to piles of metal and concrete by time, wind, and Nell bombardment. A notable exception to this rule were the streets themselves, which remained surprisingly free of rubble.

  “Self-directing nanites clean and repair the street surface,” said Burr, noticing Galen’s fascination.

  “Really? How come they’re still working?”

  “They’re self-replicating, too. These streets will be in perfect condition when Tac’s sun goes supernova a billion standards from now.” Burr stopped in front of a partially collapsed building and consulted his handheld. “The extensive pile of rubble you see before you is the former power plant of Zidac—responsible for powering the entire city and maintaining the shield dome that protected it. Start looking for a way in. The zaf is located far beneath it.”

  The Ruam and their bots spread out around the ruins, scanning the debris and probing the piles of twisted metal and rubble for an opening. A short time later, Hex broadcast he’d found a tunnel entrance in the center of the debris pile. They all converged on the bot. There was an opening about as big as the circumference of the Arrow at the center point.

  Messel fingered the trigger guard of her rifer and scanned the surrounding area with her handheld. “This looks recent.”

  Burr frowned. “Let’s get down there.”

  “Hex, take point. Bora, guard the entrance,” said Galen. Bora took up a position near the entrance. Galen and the others followed Hex closely. The bot provided the necessary light courtesy of a recently repaired appendage. The four techbots brought up the rear carrying a small hover sled for the zaf.

  Burr clenched his jaw. “This tube was created by a tunneling machine. I’m not liking the looks of this.”

  They followed the gentle slope of the tunnel as it continued downward in a tight spiral. At least several hundred steps down, the tunnel ended abruptly and emptied into a large open space. The tunneling machine was parked off to the side. Its design and markings identified it as property of the Imps.

  Burr hurried forward, sending the techbots on ahead to locate the zaf.

  Moments later, they reached a heavy platform in the center of the cavernous room. The four techbots hovered around it, their spotlights sweeping across its surface.

  “They’ve taken it,” whispered Burr. “They’ve taken the zaf!”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Why would the Imps take it?” asked Iden.

  Galen shook his head. “Who knows? Spite?”

  “It’s a valuable piece of ancient technology,” growled Burr. “They probably detected its presence from orbit and decided it was worth studying.”

  Messel, who was standing near a reactivated bank of processors, looked up from her handheld. “At least we got the plans for its construction. Yes, it looks complicated, but if we get started on it right away, we might be able to build a new zaf before—”

  Burr snorted. “Ha! ‘Might’ indeed.”

  **

  The com in Galen’s quarters popped on, and Bartrice’s agitated voice filled the room. “All personnel to the command pod. Now. Please!”

  Galen raised an eyebrow. She was upset. He climbed out of his bunk and stepped into his flips. “On my way.”

  The others joined Galen as he reached the pod and flopped down in the captain’s chair. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve been monitoring the waves for Imp chatter. Listen.”

  Bartrice replayed the hazy intercept, and they could see an Imp, a Terran in civilian garb, speaking directly to the cam. “Dur, here. My Lord Mohk requests an audience with the High Command as soon as possible.”

  “For what purpose?” said the gruff voice on the other end.

  “We have in our possession a captive who will prove most interesting to the members of the High Command.”

  “What is the identity of this captive?”

  “My Lord Mohk has forbidden me to reveal such information at this time. Suffice it to say she is a rare find.”

  There was a pause. “Very well. I shall forward Lord Mohk’s request through the appropriate channels.”

  The transmission ended, and the pod was quiet for several moments.

  “They’re taking Trem into Imp space,” said Galen.

  Eria hit the bulkhead with her fist. “It was a long shot thinking we could rescue Trem from somewhere on a battle cruiser, but to pluck her out from under the nose of the High Command? The long shot becomes impossible.”

  “We must continue our search. The people of Dob . . .” said Burr.

  “Are doomed,” said Galen quietly.

  Burr exchanged glances with Messel and Iden. “But . . . ”

  “Have you discovered the location of any other zafs?”

  “No.”

  “Then they’re beyond our help, while Trem is not. We—I—must attempt to free her before she is taken into the heart of the Nell Imperium. You can come with me if you wish, or you can go with Eria.”

  “Not exactly,” said Eria. “I am going with you, dear nephew.”

  After a moment, Burr spoke. “I shall go also.”

  Messel glanced at Iden, then said, “We, too, shall go.”

  “Fine,” said Galen. “Saving Dob is something I can’t do. Saving Trem is still possible. Prepare for departure. We leave within the hour.”

  **

  They decided to leave Eria’s ship on Tac. It lacked stealth tech, so bringing it would only increase the chances they’d be detected. Also staying behind were Bora and the four techbots. Eria had carefully flown the Arrow down the barely large-enough tunnel into the roomy zaf chamber, and Bora had parked herself next to it. The techbots were given orders to begin salvage operations, with particular attention being paid to finding fuel for Bora in the wreckage. They were also to gather any significant tech, Ruam or otherwise, they came across. Galen commanded that any bioform remains discovered during the salvaging operations be given a respectful burial, an order that earned him a silent nod from Eria.

  Eria had suggested Burr and the other Ruam could use the Arrow to continue their search for a zaf, but the old scientist only chuckled. “Thank you, Lady Bray, but the odds of blindly stumbling across another zaf are remote, at best. We’ll help rescue Lady Trem and think no more about it.”

  Their last task before leaving Tac was to remove all of the disguise panels of the Ghost Star to take advantage of the stealth capabilities built into its design. “Like the propulsion, stealth was developed much too late to be of any help in the conflict,” said Burr wistfully.

  “On a positive note, with all of the extra garbage off her hull, the Ghost Star will be virtually undetectable while in motion,” said Iden.

  Galen nodded. “She looks a lot better, too.”

  “You’re a proper Ruam vessel now, Bartrice,” said Burr. “Fly proud.”

  Before leaving, Galen briefly addressed Bora and the techbots, apologizing for leaving them behind. “There’s a good chance we might not make it back anyway, so maybe you’re lucky to be stuck here.”

  Bora clicked and briefly flicked her patrol lights on and off. “I am confident you and your companions will succeed on your mission, Lord Bray. When you return, you will find Tac in better condition than wh
en you left it.”

  Galen nodded even though he wasn’t sure what the bulky hover tank meant by that. “Thank you for your confidence, Bora. I do hope to see you again soon and wish all of you the best of luck and good fortune.” As he turned toward the Ghost Star, Galen paused. “Do your best, all of you, to stay out of sight. I’d hate to lose the lot of you to another Nell bombardment.”

  Bora whirred. “Understood. Safe journeying, Lord Bray. We await your return.”

  **

  It didn’t take Galen long to find the small Nell fleet. Mohk seemed to be taking his time returning to Imperium space.

  “What if it’s a trap?” asked Galen with a grin.

  “It might be,” said Burr. “Then again, it might not . . .”

  “I was just kidding, Burr. Bartrice, stay hidden in tripspace until we drift out of sensor range. Then we’ll drop out and work our way toward the flagship.”

  “Understood.”

  **

  Eria spent the bulk of the pursuit practicing her fighting arts with Galen, teaching him tricks Nolo either hadn’t gotten around to sharing or didn’t know. Throughout the training, Eria kept complaining she was rusty. If that was true, Galen had a hard time imagining what she was like in peak condition.

  “I’m nothing. You should have seen our Ruam warriors back in the great days,” said Eria after Galen gushed about her awesome fighting skills. “Although I was a young girl, I can remember going to training sessions with your father and being amazed by the sheer artistry of their blade dancing.”

  “Could they all become Shre?” asked Galen.

  “Oh no, just a special few, one or two from each of the great families. I couldn’t do it, but Nolo could. That’s what made him an elite of the elites.”

  Galen shook his head. “I wish I could transform, too. I wish I was a true lord like my father.”

  Eria stared at Galen for an uncomfortably long moment. “I believe you are. I wasn’t sure at first, but now I see it. Your bearing is lordly. Yes, you are a Ruam lord.”

  Galen blinked. “I don’t know what to say.”

  Eria grinned and raised her blade. “Then say nothing and prepare to be attacked.”

  **

  After they dropped out of tripspace, Galen took manual control of the Ghost Star. As much as he trusted Bartrice to handle things on a day-to-day basis, from this point forward he planned to rely on his own skills when it came to more dangerous challenges. His entire crew was in the command pod now. All were at their same stations—except Burr, who had slipped into the sensor chair.

  “I say we make full use of what special skills and abilities are available to us,” said Burr. “Lady Eria is a much more capable first mate than I am.”

  The plan was a simple one, easy to follow and remember, as any good plan should be. Galen would stealthily approach the rear of Mohk’s flagship, which, he learned from intercepts, had the stupid name of the Lingering Death. Then Bartrice would hold the Ghost Star in place while Galen, Eria, Burr, Iden, and Messel spaced to an air dock and let themselves inside. Hex, who would have a hard time blending in with his colorful carapace, would stay behind and keep an eye on the Ghost Star. Once inside, Galen and Burr would locate Trem and rescue her while Iden and Messel set about trying to sabotage the ship in any way they could. That left Eria, whose job was to provide a diversion at the time Galen and Burr were ready to snatch Trem. Her diversion, though simple, was the second most important component of the mission. Eria’s task was to go to the heart of the Lingering Death and terminate the great and mighty Lord Mohk.

  Galen guided the Ghost Star to a spot between three main thrusters of the Lingering Death. The closest thing to a blind spot on a ship like this, he thought. The glow from the thruster exhaust made it difficult to detect anything approaching from behind and, more importantly, Galen guessed no one onboard the Nell vessel would think anyone was stupid enough to pilot a ship through three super-heated exhaust streams. That’s where you’re wrong, he thought. I’m stupid enough. With perfectly timed taps on the steerstick and a light hand on the thruster controls, he threaded the needle without incident and landed on a flat section of the stern.

  Burr wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “Well done, Lord Bray.”

  Galen stood, a look of grim determination on his face. “Let’s get my sister.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Galen joined the others in the cargo bay. When they were suited up, Burr called their attention to a large vidscreen displaying a schematic of the Lingering Death. “There is a maintenance hatchway here, roughly fifty steps from this thruster. Once we gain entrance, we should find ourselves near a central service column that runs from the stern to the bow of this vessel.”

  “Handy,” said Iden.

  “I did use the word should. To be honest, we have no idea what we’ll come across once we get inside.”

  Eria grinned. “In other words, be ready to improvise. Works for me!”

  Burr paused, then looked to Galen. “Have I missed anything, Lord Bray?”

  “Like I asked before, what if it’s a trap?”

  “I refer you to Lady Eria’s statement of a moment ago. Improvise.”

  A short time later, they were passing through the outer door of the air dock and using their momentum to drop down to the hull of the Lingering Death. They stuck to its surface the instant their mag boots came in contact with the glassy metal.

  Galen watched as the air dock closed and, for a brief moment, wondered if he’d ever see the inside of his ship again.

  They made their way slowly across the hull. Burr led the way, frequently consulting his handheld. “Ah, there it is.” Directly in front of them was a fairly standard-looking air dock. This one was too small, however, for any craft bigger than a scout ship. Burr placed his handheld on top of the access pad. “Let’s see if this program is as good as I think it is.” He entered a command and waited. Not more than a few blinks passed before the outer door inched open.

  “Well done, Burr,” said Messel. “Here we artisans thought you were only good for repairing our tools.”

  Once the door had opened fully, they stepped inside. Burr entered a few more commands, and the door shut behind them. A moment later the air dock had pressurized, and they were able to remove their suits and store them in the crates.

  Burr scanned the air dock’s inner door. “Doesn’t seem to be anything but empty space on the other side. No bioforms or active bots.”

  “Let’s do this,” said Galen.

  Burr’s fingers did a quick dance on the face of his handheld, and the inner door slid open. The dimly lit passageway on the other side of the door was, to everyone’s relief, deserted.

  Galen waved them along. “Go.”

  Without a word, each of the three groups split off—Iden and Messel went off to sow the seeds of catastrophic mayhem, Eria left to kill Mohk, and Galen and Burr went to rescue Trem.

  “This ship is immense!” said Burr, after glancing at the handheld. “Ah, there we are. Not surprisingly, the prisoner cells take up quite a bit of space.” Burr pointed to a speed lift at the end of the passageway. “All we have to do is go up, let’s see, seventeen decks, and we’ll be right where we need to be.”

  “Then things will get interesting,” said Galen.

  “Yes, unfortunately.”

  They went to the lift, and Burr entered an access code with his handheld. The speed lift descended and stopped on their level. When the door opened, Galen and Burr were staring at a squad of Terran Imperium marines with their rifers raised.

  Galen shook his head. “Just so you know, I was only kidding about it being a trap.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Burr and Galen were slammed into the back wall of the speed lift.

  Burr cleared his throat. “Is there a problem, officer—” The old man’s attempt to pretend they were someone else was cut off by an elbow to the head.

  “That was totally unnecessary!” said Galen, steadying Burr
.

  The marine who’d elbowed Burr didn’t even bother looking at them. “We know who you are.”

  The lift started again, and a gloom fell over Galen as heavy as the one he’d experienced in the days after the death of Nolo and the crew and, before that, his mother. He’d known from the start this mission was a long shot and probably doomed, but having it fail so quickly took things to a whole new level of awful. At this point, despair sank icy claws into Galen’s heart and pulled it into the pit of his stomach. He’d failed. Big time.

  The Imps shoved Burr and Galen into a holding cell and slammed the door behind them. Galen collapsed on one of the wall-mounted bunks while Burr paced back and forth, massaging where he’d been elbowed. Galen sat up, eyes full of hope. Maybe the others are still free. “Do you think—?”

  Burr put a finger to his lips, glancing up at the ceiling.

  “They’re going to get us some lunch?” continued Galen. “I’m hungry.”

  “Hard to tell. Maybe.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  After an hour in the cell and another lift ride, Galen and Burr were standing outside of the command deck’s doorway when another guard brought in Iden and Messel. Both looked like they’d been in a fight. Iden confirmed this suspicion when he flashed a smile at Galen, revealing a missing front tooth.

  The door slid open, and the Terran from the intercepted transmission stepped out. “My name is Dur. You’ve caused quite a bit of trouble for my master.”

  Galen snorted. “Am I supposed to apologize?”

  “I was paying you a compliment.” Dur drew closer and lowered his voice. “Now listen carefully. My Lord Mohk has brought you all here so he can gloat. It’s one of the things he does quite well.”

  “If he’s expecting us to grovel or tremble in fear, then I’m afraid he’ll be terribly disappointed,” said Burr.

  Dur poked Burr’s shoulder with his finger. “This is where the ‘listen carefully’ part comes in, so please shut up. He needs only one of you alive. That’s you, Galen Bray. Don’t look surprised. Yes, we know who you are. I was the one who ‘accidentally’ sent the transmission to the High Command without any encryption. Lord Mohk will be looking for an excuse to kill the rest of you. I suggest you don’t give him that excuse.”