Arkship Vengeance (The Arkship Saga Book 2)

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Arkship Vengeance (The Arkship Saga Book 2) Page 6

by Niel Bushnell


  ‘Wynn’s doing what he thinks is best, but it’s his guilt that’s doing the thinking.’

  Gofal considered this. ‘Guilt?’

  ‘He survived the destruction of the Obsidian. He lost so many people that day. Then he led the Fenrir to Melchior. My home . . . my family . . . well, you know what happened.’

  ‘None of that was Wynn’s fault.’

  ‘No, but he still feels guilty. He wants to make it right.’

  ‘Logic suggests that an attack on the Fenrir will not assuage his guilt.’ Gofal noted, leaning back in his chair.

  ‘No, you’re right, it won’t. But he’s not listening to logic right now.’

  Gofal nodded, mulling over the various probable outcomes of the coming days. ‘Then we must support him during this time. That is what friends do, yes?’

  ‘Sometimes . . .’

  He looked at Bara and saw emotion in her eyes.

  ‘I don’t think I can stay,’ she confessed. ‘If he’s set on this course then I can’t stand by him and watch as it all goes to shit.’

  ‘You’ll leave him?’

  ‘If I must . . . Sol! I don’t know, but maybe the only way he’ll listen to me is if I’m not at his side.’

  ‘You would leave on Lexica?’ Gofal asked. ‘Where would you go?’

  Bara shrugged. ‘You could come with me.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Yeah, why not? You’re good with Lex, and I could use the company.’

  ‘This is unexpected,’ Gofal said.

  ‘I know . . . I’m still not certain if it’s what I’ll do. But if I leave I want you to join me.’

  Gofal nodded. ‘I must consider this.’

  ‘Me too. I need to talk to Wynn.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  Bara stood, wiping her cheeks. She took a deep breath and smiled at him. ‘Thanks. Feels good to talk it through with you.’

  ‘I’m always here.’

  She leaned forward and hugged him, then he felt her kiss the top of his head.

  ‘People will talk,’ Gofal said.

  Bara laughed as she walked out of the library, leaving Gofal alone with the books. Somehow, they seemed less important now.

  DEPARTURES

  The Scribe stood alone at the vast curved windows that overlooked the dock. The Ark Royal Caerleon drifted gracefully away from its berth, its repaired structure catching the inspection lights that lined the walls of the dock. It was an older ship that had started life as a hollowed-out asteroid. The rocky surface had been tamed, carved into flat polished angles, and a vast curved cowl had been added to the front of the ship. Two hanger bays dominated this front section, rectangular voids that cut deep into the arkship’s body. In between were the lights of dozens of other levels, and high above was its protruding flight deck. At its rear was an array of six engines, that began to fire in sequence as the arkship left its harbor. This was the flagship of the House of Kenric, and its prince should be aboard, but she knew he was elsewhere, on the arkship Vengeance.

  As the Caerleon turned and drifted upwards towards the opening dock gates, the Vengeance came into view, still linked to the dockside. She let her eyes drift along the ship’s structure, and she couldn’t help but be impressed. Compared to most arkships, it was not a large craft, but it was designed from the first day with one purpose in mind: battle. And yet, there was a sense of beauty and purpose to its sleek profile, that the Scribe had never seen on another craft. Church arkships were the pinnacle of elegance, their size overwhelming, a contortion of polished surfaces that kept their secrets. By comparison, the Vengeance was simple, an aggressive spear that seemed to cut through space. Its intent was clear; every gun cluster a battle cry.

  The dockside siren wailed three times, then the moorings, transport tubes and umbilicals began to retract from the Vengeance. For a moment it floated there, detached and isolated, as if it did not want to leave. Its maneuvering thrusters fired, and the nose of the Vengeance began to turn away from the dockside. Slowly, purposefully, it drifted up towards the first Kenric arkship. The Caerleon cleared the dock gates, and the Vengeance accelerated to join its companion in the wilds of space. The Scribe pictured Prince Halstead on board his prized vessel, and she realized she would miss him. Icarus would be a quieter place without the House of Kenric.

  As they often did, her thoughts turned to Derward Tarkkail. She had gifted him a small craft, the Lupaus, which was docked inside the hanger bay of the Vengeance. The tracking devices embedded into the Lupaus’ hull would mean she could would know where Derward went. She gained some comfort from that, but it would not extinguish her regret as his leaving. His mission was dangerous, and there was a high probability that she might never see him again. But the plan demanded it, and even a Scribe could not hope to defeat the great plan of the Church of the Infinite.

  Tears pooled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks as the dock gates closed. The Vengeance disappeared from view, and she felt tiny and alone like never before. She prayed she would see him again. If it was the Gods will to bring him back to her, then she would answer his question. Nothing would part them again. But she knew prayers were not always answered, not even those of a Scribe.

  ‘Goodbye, my love,’ she whispered to herself. The plan better be worth all of this, she prayed.

  HOUR OF NEED

  ‘They have left, Valtais Draig,’ Commodore Valine said as she entered Orcades’ private suite.

  He was resting at the edge of his pool, naked, his eyes fixed on the dancing patterns of the water. He found their hypnotic rhythms soothed his mind, cooling his thoughts.

  ‘Valtais,’ she said, more forcefully.

  Slowly, Orcades looked up from his contemplation. ‘I heard you, Valine.’

  He watched her, his head tilted slightly to one side. The room was hot, full of moisture, and Valine looked uncomfortable in her uniform.

  She stopped short of the pool, addressing her Valtais across the space. ‘The Ark Royal Caerleon and the arkship Vengeance are undertaking shakedown tests. Soon they will be ready for Cube transit.’

  ‘The signal?’ Orcades asked.

  ‘It will begin soon, as planned.’

  Orcades nodded, glancing back to the pool. ‘They will go to the Fields of Venus, and we will meet them there.’

  ‘The fleet stands ready,’ Valine replied.

  ‘As it should,’ he said with a grin. ‘You may join me, if you wish.’

  Valine hesitated. ‘I am needed on the flight deck.’

  ‘Very well,’ he replied, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

  She nodded and left him alone. Orcades returned his focus on the pool. The water felt good on his feet; hot, soothing, calming . . .

  ‘You are wasting time, child!’

  Orcades jumped, the voice like a jolt of electricity up his spine. In the steam at the edge of the pool he saw a shape, a figure approaching. He was supposed to be alone in here. There were guards at the door, it was impossible for an intruder to–

  ‘I am not an intruder! I have more right to be here than you do.’

  He knew that voice!

  ‘Yes, you do. You know me.’

  The mist cleared, revealing a wiry woman, ancient and regal in patterned robes.

  ‘Mother?’ Orcades gasped.

  ‘You still remember? Perhaps I should be flattered,’ she replied icily, stopping at the edge of the pool. ‘Cover yourself up, boy.’

  Orcades, wide eyed with confusion, retreated, finding his robe. He pulled it on and returned to the pool. She was still there, vivid against the mist, her eyes judging him as only a mother’s ever could.

  ‘Is it really you?’ he asked, a tremble in his voice.

  ‘Of course it is me. You think that death could keep me from you? Did you believe deactivating my holograph would silence me?’

  Orcades checked the suite’s holograph console: it was switched off. He had not used it since . . . It troubled him to remember that day.

&
nbsp; ‘Yes . . .’ his mother said, her words chilling his skin. ‘You feel guilty, don’t you? And so you should! You killed the last living part of me, turned your back on my wisdom.’

  It was a long-held tradition amongst the heirs of the House of Draig, that the last Valtais, after their death, would guide the Heir Valtais until they were ready to rule alone. That was the way it had been, until Orcades had terminated his mother’s holograph and assumed the position of Valtais. He had deleted her from the system. No record remained. She could not be here.

  She was dead.

  She was deleted.

  She was a memory, nothing more.

  His heart pounding, he turned to look at her. ‘How are you here?’

  ‘My love brought me to you. Is it so difficult for you to accept? I am here, with you, in your hour of need.’

  ‘My . . . my hour of need?’

  His mother smiled as she walked towards him. Her gnarled, ringed hand stretched outwards, and Orcades flinched as she touched his shoulder. He could feel her cool skin through his robe, sense the grip of her tensed fingers. She was really here, standing next to him.

  ‘You need me now, more than ever, child,’ Sinnsro Draig said.

  SHAKEDOWN

  Wynn’s stomach was in knots as he walked round the consoles on the ops level of the flight deck. He smiled encouragement to the command staff as he caught their eye, trying his best to look relaxed. So far, things had been running smoothly, but his nerves would not subside. The protection of Icarus and the Church of the Infinite were far behind them, and Wynn was starting to feel exposed and vulnerable. He had been so convinced this was the right course of action. Now, in the isolation of cold space, he was less certain.

  He glanced up to the command level. Commander Van Leeuwen sat in his chair, keeping a close eye on the rest of the flight deck. Wynn might have been the prince, but Commander Van Leeuwen was in control here. Wynn took some comfort in his temporary demotion. It was as it had been, before his father’s death. His life then had been one of privilege without much responsibility. Being prince-in-waiting was far easier than being prince, he realized now. The one consolation had been finding Bara. Under normal circumstances they would never have met. Even if they had, their relationship would have been frowned upon. A prince and a low-grade engineer? It would never work. But life was different now, since the Obsidian. When he had met Bara his memories had been blocked, and he had no idea of his status. They met as equals, and there had been an immediate spark. Since then, their relationship had grown stronger, but it had not been easy, and recently it had felt like an uphill struggle. He wondered if it would ever return to that simpler time, or was their relationship doomed from the moment his memories returned?

  ‘All right,’ the commander said in a booming voice that seemed to fill the entire flight deck. ‘Engine test six: full flow, intermix at 85 for one minute. Confirm, EDC.’

  Wynn stood behind the Engine Deck Control officer, studying his desk screens. A live feed showed Chief Graan on the Engine Deck, relaying information to the EDC officer, and his face was full of concern.

  ‘Confirmed,’ the EDC officer shouted to Commander Van Leeuwen. ‘All lines are green. You are go for Engine test six.’

  ‘Okay, countdown on my mark,’ Commander Van Leeuwen replied. ‘Engine test in ten, nine, eight . . .’

  Wynn watched as the test began. The low vibration of power coursed through the entire arkship. On the EDC console screen, he saw a flurry of activity down on the engine deck.

  The Vengeance began to accelerate as its mighty engines fired.

  ‘Intermix spike!’ the EDC officer cried out.

  Suddenly, the vibration became violent, and the ship began to shake.

  ‘Shut down!’ Commander Van Leeuwen ordered.

  The EDC desk was a blur of activity as the green lines turned red. ‘Shut down command confirmed,’ the officer responded, but the vibrations grew stronger. Wynn gripped the edge of the console, struggling to remain upright. Around him, the arkship groaned as the vibrations pulled at the superstructure.

  ‘Engines still hot,’ the EDC officer shouted. ‘Shutdown unsuccessful.’

  Wynn watched the engine deck feed. The Chief shouted something as his team rushed about him, his words lost in the growing noise.

  The lights on the flight deck flickered, then died. Alarms sounded, then the lights returned. But the vibration continued, pushing Wynn to the floor. As he crawled to his knees he saw the screen again: there was Bara on the engine deck, working beside the Chief.

  With a final, violent jolt, the vibration ceased. The alarms ended, and the flight deck fell silent.

  ‘What the hell happened?’ Commander Van Leeuwen shouted. He was no longer in his seat, he was on the floor beside it, blood trickling from his forehead.

  The EDC officer scanned his console, fear on his face. ‘Intermix injectors locked, sir. We had a cascade event, it wouldn’t respond to our shutdown command. The engine deck shut it down from there, I think.’

  ‘You think?’ Commander Van Leeuwen barked, stabbing the com system on his chair. ‘Chief?’

  After a pause, a breathless Chief Graan responded. ‘Commander, sorry. Engines are shut down now. We’re just clearing up . . . checking the intermix system.’

  ‘When you’re secure there I want a report, in person.’

  ‘Yes, of course, I’ll be as quick as I–’

  The commander closed the com. He scanned the flight deck, touching the side of his head as he checked in with each station. ‘System reports to me, please.’

  Wynn climbed the stairs to the upper level, feeling tired.

  ‘Prince Halstead,’ the commander said quietly. ‘I must apologize for the failure of the test.’

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ Wynn replied. ‘You should get that seen to.’ He pointed to the commander’s bleeding head.

  Commander Van Leeuwen nodded. ‘Yes, I probably should.’ He took in the flight deck and, with a disappointed sigh, he turned to leave. ‘The flight deck is yours, my prince.’

  Wynn watched him go, then rested in his chair, letting his mind drift as the flight deck crew hurried about him. There was nothing for him to do but observe, encourage and wait. They were not ready, but the clock was ticking. The arkship Fenrir would be refueling in the Fields of Venus any time from tomorrow, but they still had not located the station. Without that location they didn’t stand a chance of finding the Fenrir, even if the Vengeance’s engines were working properly.

  ‘Message from the Ark Royal Caerleon,’ the com officer announced.

  ‘Put it through here,’ Wynn replied.

  A holograph of the Lord Chamberlain Tanis appeared in front of him. The ghostly image flickered and distorted, but Wynn could see the concern on his friend’s face.

  ‘Another problem?’ Tanis asked.

  ‘Intermix this time,’ Wynn explained.

  ‘Everyone okay?’

  ‘A few bumps and bruises, that’s all.’

  Outside, the dark body of the Caerleon gliding into view. Wynn watched it drift alongside, an elegant vessel emblazoned with the Kenric crest.

  The holograph crackled, then Tanis asked, ‘Do you need assistance?’

  ‘No, we just need time.’

  ‘A commodity we have little of,’ Tanis mused. ‘I still think you should remain on the Caerleon, my prince. After all, it is the Kenric flagship, it is where its prince belongs. And it is far safer than an unproven vessel.’

  Wynn chuckled. ‘There are no safe places any more, Tanis.’

  ‘True enough,’ Tanis conceded with a sigh, ‘but I’d sleep better if you were here instead of me.’

  ‘I need you in command of the Caerleon. We’ve been over the plan.’

  ‘And I still don’t like it,’ Tanis admitted. ‘I believe the Caerleon should transit with you to the refueling station, rather than wait outside of the Fields for your signal. What good are we to you out here?’

  ‘You are
my insurance, Tanis. It’s safer to send one arkship into the unknown instead of two. Simple numbers, that’s all.’ Frustrated, Wynn added, ‘You agreed to this.’

  ‘I know, and I’m sorry. My faith in the Vengeance has been . . . tested. I will, of course, carry out your orders.’

  Wynn nodded. ‘I’ll let you know when we’re ready for the next test.’

  Tanis smiled, and his holograph broke apart, leaving Wynn alone again. Restless, he scrolled through the options on the chair’s console until he found the engine deck feed. He saw Bara there, working to fix the intermix problem, taking control of the situation. He liked to watch her work, she looked so content, even when things went wrong. As Wynn studied her, he realized he was smiling. He blushed and shut down the console screen, hoping he hadn’t been observed.

  Commander Van Leeuwen returned to the flight deck, his cut forehead cleaned and sealed.

  ‘Under normal circumstances I’d recommend a few weeks of test runs,’ the commander said to Wynn with a sigh. ‘But I know these are not normal circumstances. We’ll be ready in time, I promise you.’

  Wynn stood, letting the commander take his seat again. ‘We still need to find the fuel station, Commander.’

  Van Leeuwen nodded, a crooked smile growing on his rounded face. ‘I just received a com message that I think you’ll like.’ He pressed the chair’s com panel. ‘MST?’

  Below them, a woman sitting at one of the consoles looked up. She saw the commander and came up the stairs.

  ‘Tell the prince what you just told me,’ Commander Van Leeuwen ordered the officer as she approached his seat.

  ‘Yes, Commander,’ she replied quickly, turning to face Wynn. ‘My prince, I’ve been scanning for signals in the Fields of Venus. An hour ago, we caught something, a repeating beacon. We’ve isolated it, cleaned it up, and it’s an ident chain with a Draig marker.’

  ‘Meaning?’ Wynn asked.

  ‘It’s a Draig docking beacon signal, coming from inside the Field.’

  PROMISES

  Derward Tarkkail ran his hand over the hull of the Lupaus as he walked out of the entrance ramp. It was the smallest ship he’d ever owned, just a single deck with a cockpit, cargo hold, and sleeping quarters big enough for one person. The Scribe obviously had no intention of spoiling him, and she had made sure he would be spending his time on board alone. He laughed to himself. Not many people got close enough to her to see the Scribe’s devious sense of humor. And she had named the ship Lupaus. It didn’t take him long to discover it meant promise in one of the old Earth languages. Yes, her humor was rare, but she showed her sentiment even less. The Lupaus may be modest, but it was a message from Ermengarde to Derward: Come back to me. Come back for my answer.

 

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