Terminus Shift (Targon Tales - Sethran Book 2)

by Chris Reher

  “What’s going on?” Ciela whispered. “We changed course?” She turned when the door opened and another of the troopers entered, pushing the Othani’s engineer ahead of him.

  The tech shook her head, looking very confused. “I have no idea. They think we’re smuggling you out of the sector.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I’ll tell you why,” the Centauri said. His violet eyes found them at the back of the room. He nudged the captain with his gun until Velen Phar dropped into his chair with a grunt. “Seems like someone’s trying to make a deal with the Union.” He tilted his head and then raised his hand to gesture to her.

  Ciela stepped forward, past another crewman and into the brighter light of center bridge. She glanced at Deely who shrugged, as bewildered as she was.

  Vichal looked her over and found the small metal implant embedded in her temple. “You’re one of the spanners?”

  “Yes. What’s going on? What deal?”

  “Stay quiet, Ciela,” her captain said under his breath. He moved to get out of his chair but the rebel’s gun convinced him to stay there. “Look,” he said to the Centauri. “We’re all on the same team. Where did you get the idea that I’m dealing with the Union? Why would I?”

  “I don’t give a damn why you’d do anything, Phar. But you’re not handing them over.” Vichal waved his gun in Deely’s direction.

  “What are you talking about?” Ciela asked.

  Deely removed his headset and turned toward their captain, a question on his pale face.

  “There are Union agents meeting you on Tayako,” Vichal said. “Isn’t that right, Phar? Vanguard, probably. You’re going to let them have your crew.”

  “What?” Ciela gasped.

  The captain scowled at the armed rebels before looking up at Ciela’s astonished face. “It’s not what that sounds like.”

  “Talk to me, Velen!” Ciela said, feeling more anxious by the moment. “Why is he saying that?” She had been a member of his company ever since her training had ended on Tadonna, their home planet, five years ago. A rough-tempered boss with little regard for his crew’s personal comfort, Velen Phar demanded much of his team. Their trips were far-ranging and exhausting, taking them through sectors the Union had not even heard of. The ever-increasing Air Command forays into this sub-sector meant that they were constantly on the move to supply the Arawaj posts with what goods could be smuggled past the patrols. The much-abused Othani had carried rebel troops, small batches of fighter planes, weaponry, contraband and the occasional high-ranking rebel, relying on the spanners’ expertise to elude capture on many occasions.

  But he had always treated them fairly, generous with shore leave and pay, and had made sure the entire crew functioned with at least a measure of respect for each other.

  Vichal’s lowered brow rose as a slow grin spread over his features. “They don’t know?” he said to the captain.

  “Know what?” Ciela said. “Velen! What’s going on?”

  The ship’s second in command finally found his voice. He nudged Ciela aside to stand by the captain’s chair. “Nothing’s going on,” he said to Vichal. He pointed to Deely. “The chart isn’t finished yet, that’s all. We’re going to pick up the new ships and then head out on a long run. We need all four spanners for that. Why would we give them up to the Union? Without them we might as well scrap the Othani for all she’d be worth.”

  “Well, then let Mr. Deely finish his work and then we’ll all jump to Tayako together,” Vichal said. “We’ll come along to make sure you don’t get lost on the way. Surely you don’t mind an armed escort to look after you?”

  “We get by precisely because we don’t carry more armament than we need to,” Ciela said. “You’ll only be waving flags in the air. I don’t know what’s going on but we’re not jumping until someone explains all this.” Her words were directed at the captain.

  Vichal used his gun to scratch the side of his shaved head. “You see, Ciela - is that your name? What your boss didn’t mention is that he’s thinking of retirement. Isn’t that so, Phar?” He did not wait for the captain to reply. “As I heard it, someone on Tadonna – let’s call her the Esteemed Consul - had a chat with Air Command. And then Air Command had a chat with the Union Factors. And now everyone thinks it’s a good idea to hand Tadonna over to the Commonwealth Union of Planets.”

  “What?” Ciela said. “The whole planet?”

  “Did I get that right, Phar?” Vichal smiled at the captain. “The good folks of Tadonna don’t want Arawaj rebels cluttering up the place anymore? Rather join the Commonwealth, would they?” He turned back to Ciela without the smile. “They’ll come in and remove our bases, including your home. You know what happens to rebels when those soldiers land.”

  Ciela gaped at the Centauri, feeling an unpleasant tingle of fear shiver up along her spine. She knew about the atrocities at which he hinted. She had heard of the unspeakable terror unleashed upon those who cooperated with any rebel group. There was no mercy for her or her kind as long as they opposed the expansion of the Commonwealth in this sector. “Did someone warn them? Do they have time to get out?” She turned to the captain. “Forget about Tayako. We can make it back to Tadonna in one jump.”

  He shook his head. “It’s too late. There’s nothing we can do. Air Command’s already landed in the islands to cover the port. They’ll hunt us down like Rhuwacs if we go back.” He raised his hands in a tired gesture. “I don’t have the fight for that anymore.”

  Her tingle of fear turned into overwhelming dread. “So you’re just going to hand us over to them? To the Union? Don’t we get a choice? We can work anywhere.”

  “Let’s not forget about the money,” Vichal said with an unpleasant smirk. “Tell them about the pile of currency you’re getting for them, along with whatever pardon they’ve promised you, Smuggler. Good thing we arrived just in time to express our concerns.”

  “That’s a lie,” Velen Phar said to his crew. “I’m asking for nothing.” He looked from one to the other. “I just didn’t want you to end up…” he looked up at the Centauri “…like them. You deserve better than that.”

  “And you think being thrown in prison by Air Command is better?” Ciela said, glaring at the captain. He dropped his eyes to the scuffed floor of the bridge. She had trusted him for years to keep them safe while they did their small part for the rebel cause. Certainly there were profits to be made but they risked their lives and freedom with every smuggling run through the sector. Nothing mattered more than to fight the escalating Commonwealth occupation. Without local resistance, soon every planet accessible via sub-space leaps would be theirs to be exploited. And now Tadonna was lost to their persuasion and coercion. She thought about the people still on Tadonna, her teachers and friends. Would they have warning before their hiding places were raided, pointed out to the Union soldiers by the traitorous locals? She turned to Vichal. “So then what do you want with us?”

  “We’ve made a much better deal for you,” Vichal said.

  She frowned. “Deal? What sort of deal? You mean another smuggler?”

  “Not precisely. We’re just here to make sure your good captain doesn’t veer off course. Sebasta’s ship will be waiting for you at Tayako.” He smirked at the Human woman standing behind him. She returned his leer with one of her own. “You’ll be quite safe, don’t worry. No one wants to harm a spanner. You’re just too damn valuable.”

  “I don’t like where this is going,” Deely said.

  “You don’t have to like it,” Vichal said. “Just do your job and you’ll be well taken care of. Doesn’t matter who you work for. We found a buyer for you.”

  “What?” Ciela exclaimed. “This is outrageous! You can’t do that.”

  “We are doing that.”

  “You are worse than scum, Vichal,” Velen Phar said. “You’re talking Shri-Lan, aren’t you?”

  “I am. Sebasta is waiting for you at Tayako to take you to the new bosses.”

&nbs
p; Ciela felt her knees buckling and fought to remain upright. The Shri-Lan faction, far larger and more established than the Arawaj, presented the only real challenge to Air Command’s complete military control of the Trans-Targon sector. They had wealth and guns to achieve their goals more effectively and brutally than the Arawaj. But those goals consisted mostly of amassing more capital and no longer had anything in common with Arawaj ideals.

  Attempts had been made, even just recently, to combine Arawaj with the Shri-Lan faction but ideology and power struggles had caused all but a few joint ventures to fail. Arawaj sought to slow the Union’s expansion; Shri-Lan strove to take its place as the governors of the Trans-Targon sector. Ivor Sebasta, commander of a small, heavily armed Arawaj combat unit, was one in favor of joining forces.

  “We will not join Shri-Lan,” Deely said, every bit as frightened and livid as Ciela. “We are Arawaj. You’re mad if you think we’d cooperate with that.”

  “We’re wasting time,” the Human who had arrived with Vichal said. She moved to the console in front of Deely and worked with the system for a moment. Almost as an afterthought, she struck him hard enough to slam his head against the backrest of his bench. “Get busy with that keyhole, Spanner.”

  Ciela stepped forward before realizing that the rebel was easily twice as wide as she and most of that was made up of muscle. “Stop that. You’ll only damage his interface.”

  The woman sneered. “I’d kick his ass if he wasn’t sitting on it. I don’t suppose that is attached to his implant.” She grasped Ciela’s arm and shoved her into the other navigator couch.

  Ciela glared at her but said nothing. She glanced over to Deely who was dabbing sullenly at his bleeding lip. His hand shook. Unlike her, he had served on other, less well-managed, Arawaj ships. If he chose to keep his head down among these ruffians, it was probably something to emulate. She had never known Arawaj troopers to show much respect for those they thought of as civilians.

  “I can’t do this,” he said, more to Ciela than the others.

  “I’ll help you,” the Human said. She stood behind Ciela and jammed her gun into her nape. Ciela froze when she heard the weapon reset. “How’s this? Open that keyhole and chart us to Tayako. And if we come out anywhere but Tayako, your little girlfriend here is going to be in pain for about a week. Deal?”

  He glowered at her but finally nodded. With a long gaze at Ciela, he turned to his console and fastened the headset to the neural interface at his temples. She did the same, angrily shrugging her shoulders as if to dislodge the gun at her neck.

  “There,” Vichal said, pleased. “Now we’re all ready to go.”

  Deely took a deep breath and closed his eyes. The display in front of him came alive as the ship’s processors recognized his mental interface. The overhead lights dimmed when all resources focused on the tremendous energy needed to calculate the keyhole’s trajectory.

  Unlike the stable and charted jumpsites elsewhere in the sector, these miniscule breaches had to be manually plotted for each passage. The ship’s processors took care of the calculations but it required a sentient, highly trained mind to find the correct exit. It was this sensory aptitude that set spanners apart from other navigators and made them a rare commodity in Trans-Targon.

  “This is suicide,” the helmsman, who had so far only watched in silence, spoke. “They can’t jump like this. We’ll end up stuck in sub-space if he’s off.”

  Velan Phar nodded. “He’s right,” he said to Vichal. “I’ve been through hundreds of uncharted sites. You can’t go in there unless you’ve got your brain working properly. A nervous spanner is dangerous.”

  “What about her?” Vichal’s companion gestured to Ciela. “She doesn’t look nervous.”

  “Makes no difference,” Phar said. “We’re taking a chance.”

  “You’re stalling, Phar,” Vichal decided. “Hoping to run us into whatever Union agents are meeting you over there. I’d like to get to Tayako before they do.” He waved his gun at the helmsman. “Get going or my pilot’s doing your job. Unlike these two, you are expendable.”

  “All right, Vichal,” the captain said. “There’s no need for anyone getting killed here.” He nodded to the helmsman.

  “Suicide,” the pilot grumbled but began to feed the keyhole to open the aperture. “Going negative.”

  The captain signaled the intent to jump although most of the ship’s passengers were currently here on the bridge. Some moved into the available seats and jump couches, others grasped the handrails provided for the leap into nothing.

  The ship moved into position in front of the breach and began to accelerate toward it when Ciela signaled the pilot. The Othani’s energy emissions widened the breach to allow them to enter and her shields would keep them from being crushed once inside. But only Deely’s mental control of the ship’s processors would allow them to exit again.

  Ciela reached for his hand when her own connection to the ship alerted her to several failed algorithms. “I got it,” he said but he sounded far from certain.

  The Othani had reached maximum velocity and streaked toward the open gateway into sub-space, soon beyond any point of return. Ciela probed the ship’s systems, hoping to support Deely’s efforts. The calculations were coming together but she felt nothing resembling the exit to Tayako. “I don’t see it.”

  “It’s not there,” he said, panic rising in his voice. “It’s not there!”

  “Calm down,” she implored him. “You’ll find it. You’ve been there. Just grab it.”

  “I can’t! It’s scattering.”

  “Ciela...” Velen Phar began.

  “Back loop. He’s looping!”

  “Told you,” the pilot said, his voice too shrill in their ears. “I can’t abort.”

  “Dammit, Ciela!”

  She reached up and knocked Deely’s headset away before the ship’s processors found their way into his brain. She took over where he left off, grasping for the exit, any exit, before they plunged into the vast nothing of sub-space. A searing pain drove into her skull when the processors swapped his patterns to her interface.

  The communications tech’s sudden scream was cut off when the Othani plunged into the breach. There was nothing here now. Each of them existed as some insignificant entity traversing some unimaginable distance without seeing or feeling any of it. No sound or sensation intruded upon the brief and absolute moment of terror that sub-space travel induced in all living creatures. The absence of everything, perhaps a glimpse of death without afterlife, perhaps a promise of the end of time. And with the great fear of the unknown came the reminder that countless others had gone into the breach and had not emerged.

  “We’re out. We’re out! We’re back, we’re out.”

  Ciela groaned when the hysterical repetition of that discovery drilled into her eardrums. She kept her eyes shut, dizzy and exhausted beyond all measure.

  “She got us back.”

  “Where are we?”

  “Ciela, are you all right?”

  “Bearings, Helm!”

  “Ciela!”

  Ciela ignored them. None of this had anything to do with her. She felt someone lift her from her couch. The captain, she thought. That didn’t matter, either. She let herself drift away from all of this.

  Chapter Three

  Tayako, a rare, habitable gem of a planet lost in what most referred to as the Badlands of Trans-Targon, was not a bad place to settle. The moon orbiting it and serving as a low-grav transfer station, on the other hand, was a disappointing sight for those arriving here for the first time. Without the funds to build one of the impressive orbital stations common in busier ports, the moon was studded with dusty, domed service installations looking like some weird fungus on the planet-side of the satellite.

  Seth circled around a long pier jutting out from an elevated central hub above the moon, taking a quick look for possible Air Command cruisers before tucking into his berth. For the most part, all he saw were the lumbering
freighters and inter-stellar transports too awkward and heavy to actually touch down on the planet’s surface. Instead, they stopped here for service and transferred their goods and passengers to smaller vessels.

  Tayako itself traded agricultural products, mainly rice and other grains, with the Commonwealth but offered little strategic value. Air Command patrolled this area only sporadically or when called upon by the local governments. That rebels also frequented this remote colony was no secret to anyone. The nearest charted jumpsite was so far removed that any visitor to Tayako appeared on long-range sensors long before arriving out here. The only other way in or out was a single keyhole, accessible only to Level Three spanners, nearly a day’s travel away. Planets in other parts of Trans-Targon were colonized because their convenient proximity to a jumpsite meant less real-space travel time and costs. For Tayako, the distances created a cozy place for smugglers and fugitives, aware of visits by Air Command or anyone else well in advance.

  Once docked, Seth bounced lightly from the cockpit to the cargo hold to pull a pair of heavy boots from a compartment. Bit by bit, he added weight until the sensors agreed on the best mass to allow him to move comfortably in the minimal gravity. After tying his hair into a short queue to keep it from drifting around his head, he exited the ship to walk through the short umbilical for the mandatory scan looking for foreign pathogens. The station owners seemed unconcerned about his identity and no one insisted upon a security check.

  The air outside carried the sort of funk he’d become accustomed to after years of loitering around the less reputable ports of Trans-Targon. Moist, over-used, infused with the waste and refuse left behind by travelers from a dozen points of origin and not quite bad enough to require a respirator. He walked along a broken conveyor, a little unsteady as he got used to the moon’s gravity. By the time he turned into an intersecting tunnel things were starting to feel normal, including the stale air.

  The Othani freighter awaited him at the far end of the loading platforms. The battered and patched hull dwarfed some of the smaller vessels nearby, looking like she’d seen one too many meteor showers. No transfer shuttles lined up here to move cargo but even from a distance, he noted a crowd of people and vehicles near the umbilical that tethered her here. He ambled closer to join a few spectators.