Revenant

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Revenant Page 17

by Raymond Bayly

“I am Romulax, War Chief of the Davinos Clan.” He swept his free claw over the room.

  “I assume, by the bodies of my captors, that you are not of the Empire and that waking me was an afterthought. Despite the fear coming off both of you, neither has fired a weapon, so I presume you wish to talk.”

  There was no malice or threat in his voice,

  only logic and maybe a touch of sadness at the carnage around him.

  Blake suddenly found himself hitting the floor like a sack of potatoes,

  wheezing as he tried to catch his breath.

  “Um, yeah, we do actually,” Shira said.

  Romulax gazed at her for a second,

  then looked down at Blake.

  He cocked his head and addressed the wheezing man on the floor,

  “Are you an intelligent creature, or is there another I should speak to?”

  he asked in a matter of fact tone.

  Shira took a step forward dropping her rifle to swing by the tactical strap and purposely keeping her hands away from her other weapons.

  “You see, you look like something out of a nightmare to us, but you sound well-educated and very intelligent. I apologize. We should not have judged you based on looks alone,”

  Shira said with a slight bow.

  “Yeah, sorry about that,” Blake said,

  trying to get his bearings back.

  “We were expecting a different type of greeting. We are not friends of the Empire.

  The fact is, they’re hunting us,

  and we are actively trying to avoid them.

  After hearing about your people and your world, I could not leave you here to your fate.

  You being a hated enemy of the Empire was just a plus.”

  Romulax glanced at Shira.

  “Thank you, good lady. I appreciate your honesty. You are correct; I am used to that reaction.”

  He then turned to Blake.

  “I am not used to those who show kindness, especially to those who look like me.

  I was told of the death of my world by the guards. They relished telling me of my people’s fate,

  and of my own.

  I have no people and no world.

  I do, however, recognize those who put others above themselves to protect them. I can also tell those who are in need of help.”

  Romulax walked over to another cargo container and pried it open.

  “If I could ask a favor…since I no longer have a home or people, I wanted to know if I could join you. If you are fleeing from the Empire,

  then it is obvious that you could use the help.

  They are no friend of mine.

  They have obliterated those that I love and those that I led.

  The only thing I have left is vengeance,

  and that is yours.

  I agree to submit to your command while on your ship and under your company.

  As a War Chief, and on my honor as a warrior,

  this I swear,”

  he said while pulling a bag of gear out of the container.

  Morgan was in Blake’s ear as soon as Romulax finished speaking.

  “Captain, an honor promise from this creature is a serious one. Unless you wish to offend,

  I would suggest you accept his help.”

  Blake had to agree.

  “I agree to your terms, Romulax.

  We could use the help, and I won’t lie, having someone of your reputation on board may come in handy. Welcome to the team!”

  Blake tapped the team channel and declared, “Alright guys, let’s wrap this up.

  We’re still transmitting the beacon,

  so, we need to hustle.

  Shira, get those bots pushing the rest of the cargo out so we can get over to the other freighters and get the hell out of here.”

  Romulax pulled out two large swords and a set of armor from his bag and began to fasten them to

  himself. “I will be ready to go in a moment.”

  Blake eyed the bag.

  “Yeah, weird question, but do you have anything blue in there you don’t need?”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTYFOUR

  Back in the Saddle

  Once they had finished raiding the freighters,

  they procured one of their communication probes and set the freighters on a course towards the nearest populated colony.

  Back on board the ship,

  Blake and Shira officially introduced Davi and Morgan to Romulax.

  The giant creature was taken aback at first,

  then excited about Morgan.

  He seemed quite fascinated with the AI,

  and the two quickly delved into an intellectual conversation.

  After a few moments,

  Blake had to nicely ask them both to put a sock in it until they were on their way.

  Davi couldn’t stop grinning after Blake handed him a blue helmet, they had found on one of the ships. “Thank you, sir!”

  he exclaimed.

  He turned to Romulax, and with the same gleam that he got in his eyes when finding an exciting problem to solve, he asked,

  “So, Rommie, how many people have you killed?” Romulax looked at Davi,

  and a look of pity crossed his face.

  “I can see inside you, sir,

  Something is broken,

  and it cannot be fixed.

  For that, I’m sorry,”

  he said. Davi’s face fell for a moment,

  then his grin returned.

  “It’s okay. I’m insane,

  but I have a blue helmet that makes me happy!” Davi pushed the helmet onto his head and walked off the bridge.

  Everyone looked on as the sound of muffled whistling trailed down the corridor.

  “Yeah, he’s a bit whacked, but he’s a damn good engineer,”

  Blake said defensively

  as he pulled up the navigation maps.

  “Alright, Morgan suggests we continue to Drazari. Anyone have any objections to that plan based on the intel we retrieved from the freighters?”

  Shira shook her head.

  “No, it’s still our best option.

  With the credits we siphoned from the empire's freighters,

  we should be able to find someone to shut off the beacon, and maybe even buy some more intel.

  We have done well up to this point,

  but we need more intel badly”

  Blake nodded in agreement,

  In the military,

  missions would succeed and fail based on the intelligence gathered,

  and he knew all too well that a lack of information could get people killed.

  Romulax nodded,

  “She is correct. We need to place ourselves in a position of strength, then make a plan.”

  Blake was surprised at how quickly Romulax included himself as part of the group.

  I guess there is something to that honor bound decree, he mused.

  Blake glanced around, satisfied.

  “This ship and Morgan cannot be allowed to fall into the hands of the Empire,”

  he said.

  He looked back and forth between the two of them. “Alright, it’s settled, Drazari it is. It’s going to take some two weeks of travel;

  we are not going to take a straight path.

  Morgan, how are we looking on supplies now?”

  Morgan answered immediately.

  “We have a full stock of armaments as well as resources which will allow Davi to research and create some new weapons and munitions.

  We have retrieved proteins and other supplies to augment our food supply,

  and we have parts and items for both the Nismel and the Specter to allow for repair away from a shipyard. We are now in possession of seventy-thousand credits,

  which should be sufficient for our immediate needs.

  Captain, we may also want to purchase a transponder,

  one that is blank to allow us to change the identity of our ship to all pas
sing scans.

  We will be able to mask ours temporarily but having a new one will go a long way to ensure we aren’t tracked once we leave the station.” Morgan suggested.

  “Well damn,” Blake said.

  “For once, we seem to be in a good position. Let’s head for Drazari then.

  Shira, you want to do the honors while I show our new crew member to his quarters?”

  Shira headed for her chair,

  and Blake motioned for Romulax to follow him off the bridge.

  “Captain, may I ask you something?”

  Romulax queried.

  “Of course, Rom, feel free. Your part of the crew now for as long as you want,”

  Blake replied.

  He was still wary about Romulax,

  but Morgan was insistent that by giving his honor-bound promise,

  they were in absolutely no danger from him.

  He would not harm them physically,

  nor could he directly deceive them,

  as it was not in his culture.

  “I was wondering,” Rom began,

  “how are you handling all of this?

  I understand your people have not yet evolved to intergalactic space travel.

  In fact, aside from some speculations,

  your planet is entirely unaware of any race other than your own.

  Yet here you are in command of a top of the line spacecraft,

  and thrust into a universe now full of alien creatures.”

  Blake stopped and looked at Romulax.

  “Now, how the hell did you know that?” he asked with more than a little suspicion in his voice.

  Rom smiled and nodded towards one of the speakers.

  “Morgan is a wealth of information should you just listen, Captain.”

  Blake shook his head and motioned for Rom to follow.

  He would have to have a talk with Morgan about divulging information too freely.

  “I have seen the replay of the freighter while we made our way back to this ship,

  you tried hard to keep that crew alive,

  you are a good person Blake,

  you spare when you don’t have to and from the tactics implemented,

  you and Shira are competent warriors.

  Personally, and spiritually though,

  does this not bother you or shake you to your foundations?

  Does your religion not have issues with killing?

  and does your moral compass allow you to shake off the deaths of sentient beings so easily?”

  His probing gaze seemed to stare into Blake’s soul.

  For a being whose appearance was so frightening, Romulax had quite an insightful nature.

  “The mind of a scholar and the body of a nightmare,”

  Blake chuckled under his breath.

  “It does, Rom. It honestly freaks me the fuck out, but this is the reality,

  and as a soldier,

  you have to adapt.

  Now, I am sure they didn’t have this scenario in mind when they wrote the old adapt and overcome strategy, but here we are.

  We just have to deal with it.

  It’s what we, as humans, have always done.

  ‘How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.’” Blake finished.

  Romulax contemplated this for a moment before saying,

  “I understand the spirit of that translation,

  and it makes sense. However,

  Should you need to talk, Captain,

  I am always here to listen.

  Please feel free to call upon me should you need it.” Blake looked sideways at him.

  “Are you a head shrink there, Rom?”

  Romulax seemed to consider this for a moment.

  “I have been known to counsel young warriors during times of personal trouble,

  but I assure you…

  I do not have the magic to shrink heads.”

  Blake almost barked out a laugh and would have if Rom did not have such a serious look on his face. “It’s a figure of speech, Rom,

  but I will come to find you if I need to talk.”

  He stopped in front of one of many doors along the corridor.

  “Here’s your room. Let me know if you need anything.”

  He passed his hand over the sensor,

  and the door opened.

  Rom entered his chambers and looked around. “This should be sufficient, captain.

  Allow me a little time to become situated, and I will return to the bridge.”

  It took a bit longer to get to Drazari then Morgan had anticipated,

  but it gave time for the crew to mesh.

  Rom spent his most of his time talking philosophy, love, and any other subject he could with Morgan.

  He had taken over as the tactical officer and de facto psychiatrist of the group.

  Shira was seeing him regularly about her transition from cripple to walking again.

  Davi saw him daily about hell,

  who knew, but it seemed to do him good.

  Blake had only talked with him once,

  but it was rewarding for him as well.

  Along the way,

  Rom agreed to become a permanent member of the team and was augmented like the rest.

  Curiously enough,

  he also ended up with a metal right arm.

  With the ease and quickness of Rom’s integration into the team,

  Blake began to wonder if Morgan had manipulated the group into going out to the freighters to retrieve him.

  Perhaps she thought they needed him.

  Blake still had a gut feeling there was more going on than what Morgan had shared.

  He was almost certain that it was not malicious,

  but as a rule, he didn’t like being manipulated.

  He had to figure it out,

  but how do you outsmart an AI that is pretty much inside your head all the time?

  Davi developed new equipment for Rom along the lines of Blake, and Shira’s, except Rom,

  also had space for the two swords he carried.

  The three warriors regularly sparred,

  with Rom always coming out as the winner.

  Blake and Shira managed to hold their own all the same.

  Overall, things seemed to be going well on the ship.

  They had enough supplies.

  Davi had come up with the incendiary rounds Shira had suggested,

  and between training and just plain getting to know each other, the trip went by fast.

  When they finally entered Drazari space,

  they were a pretty tight team,

  but Blake still felt uneasy.

  They remained novices at this space commando game.

  The Nismel floated outside of the Drazari system, allowing Morgan to pick up information and do her digital wizardry.

  They mapped out stops for food supplies,

  machine parts, and anything else they had not picked up on the freighters.

  Morgan put out queries to find someone who might be able to disable the beacon and get them a blank transponder.

  No one had responded yet,

  but as with all illegal trade,

  it sometimes took a while.

  Blake sat in the captain’s chair on the bridge, weighing his options.

  There were many ways to handle a situation like this, and he wasn’t sure which one would be viable.

  Not only was it a new planet where they were likely to stand out like a sore thumb as the only earthlings there,

  but it was entirely possible that the entire galaxy had been notified to be on the lookout for this ship. That worried him,

  and in the back of his brain,

  he couldn’t help thinking that Morgan could could very easily omit any information that might steer the crew to deviate from her mission, they were relying on her ability to gather intel a little too much Blake thought but.

  That was only one more thing to file in the back of his head.

  He paged
through numerous screens on his console,

  trying to gather more information on the station and the planet.

  He wanted to know about the natives,

  the clientele,

  what the Empire intelligence may have on the rulers of the planet,

  and any safe houses or bolt holes that the Empire used while on the planet.

  He had to admit the Empire had some damn good intelligence officers.

  There were pages and pages of stuff,

  though most of it would only be useful if he were attacking the planet.

  Most of what he had was intel on where the mobile defense installations and government buildings were located, etc.

  There had to be a way onto the planet without announcing their presence,

  but Blake hadn’t found it.

  As soon as they hit the station,

  everyone who was looking for them would come to check out the new kid in town.

  He adjusted his holster with one hand and continued scrolling with the other.

  Blake had taken to regularly wearing his pistols strapped low on his hips,

  not that there was any danger on the ship;

  it just made him feel better.

  He also preferred to wear his combat pants and shirt instead of his jumpsuit,

  He seemed to be the only one who had a problem with it though.

  Everyone else seemed more than happy to wear them while they were on the ship,

  but to him, it was like parading around in some bad B-rated space slumber party movie…except without the kimono.

  Even Rom wore his,

  and they looked flat out ridiculous on him.

  “Morgan let’s take a look at those images of the docks again.

  I want to see if we can pick out one that is more isolated to give us an advantage if we need to get out in a hurry while limiting access to the ship as much as possible,” he said.

  The Drazari system only had one planet and a collection of other celestial bodies.

  None of them were habitable.

  Two of the worlds were nothing more than large moons,

  with the third being a Red Dwarf with a massive space station in orbit around it.

  Even at this distance, the scale of it was amazing.

  Blake was taken aback by the pure size and scope of it all. The station was in the shape of a large cylinder two-hundred miles long and fifty miles wide.

  Docking ports were sticking out every quarter of a mile along what Blake thought of as the station’s spine.

  There was constant movement as he watched ships move in and out regularly,

  like bright specs against the station which gleamed silver in the light of the central star.

 

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