The Last Stryker (Dark Universe Series Book 1)

by Alex Sheppard

  Ramya scanned the other sections of the cargo bay and took a long look at the Pterostrich cage. To her relief, the lone chick seemed to be fast asleep. Ramya turned her attention back to Ross and Fenny, thankful that the lights in the cargo bay were back and she was now able to monitor the cargo bay from the COM. The last time they had ventured into the area when the lights were out, she’d been attacked by that Pterostrich.

  “We’re set,” Ross’s voice boomed in her ear.

  “They’re set, Captain,” she said.

  “Good,” the captain replied absent-mindedly. He tapped his chin and leaned forward in his chair.

  Ramya focused on her screen, specifically on the feed from the rear viewers. The Cutlass had now become a hulking presence on it. It drew closer and closer and then it seemed to stop. A flash of blue light—unquestionably a tractor beam—shot out from under its chunky frame. There was a hum and a rumble in the rear of the ship, and Ramya felt the Endeavor slow down. The tractor beam had found its mark.

  “They got us, Captain,” Wiz put the obvious into words. “We’re slowing down. What should we do?”

  There were more flashes on Ramya’s screen, a few more hums, and the Endeavor slowed even more.

  “How many tractor beams, Wiz?” the captain asked.

  “Three, Captain.”

  “Charge up the rear repulsors and take aim. But don’t shoot. Keep the engines at full power. How far is the AP now?”

  “Five minutes.”

  On the array of equipment in front of Ramya, a large rectangular button flashed red and beeped. It said, “Incoming.” Before she could turn around toward the captain, Wiz pointed at the flashing button and blurted, “They’re hailing us, Captain.”

  The captain grunted. “What does Trysten Kiroff want now?”

  His question blasted a hole through Ramya and for a second, the COM faded into specks of gray. Could her father be at the other end of the channel? What if he recognized her? It’s too late now, Ramya chided herself. She took a couple of bracing breaths and fought off the fear. Adjusting her visor low over her face so the person on the other end of the channel wouldn’t clearly see her, Ramya waited for the captain’s order. It seemed to take too long to come, so Ramya shot a quick look backward. Wiz was looking curiously at the captain also. The button requesting a communication channel flashed with urgency of a man wanting a glass of water after crossing a desert.

  “Captain,” Ramya ventured. “Should we?”

  He looked at her, his eyes narrow and his visage grim. “I don’t know. Should we?” he said.

  It was a weird question at the oddest of times. Ramya glanced at Wiz who looked taken aback as well.

  “I think we should, Captain,” Ramya found her voice first. “Perhaps they’ve changed their plans. Who knows?”

  The captain’s eyes narrowed to slits at her answer and he grunted once more. “All right then,” he said finally. “Patch it.”

  Ramya slapped the flashing button and instantly an image started taking shape in between Wiz and Fenny’s station. Ramya tugged at her visor once more and held her breath. She was going to need all her strength to see her father’s face again. Ramya didn’t risk turning her head up to look directly. From the corner of her eye, she could see a man in dark clothes standing at the center of a ship’s COM.

  “Captain Milos,” he said, “good to see you.”

  Ramya let go of the breath she was holding. That was not her father’s voice. It sounded familiar, but it was someone else, thank goodness.

  “Good to see you, Lieutenant. You’re holding us captive and I was told you’ll board my ship and seize some of my cargo. So what are you waiting for?”

  “I wanted to speak to you before boarding,” said the man from the GSO ship.

  “Hasn’t everything been said already? Your boss, Trysten Kiroff, threatened my crew if I didn’t oblige him. He told me his people were coming on board no matter what. What else is left to speak about?”

  Ramya, still not daring to turn wholly toward the screen, continued to look askance. The man in the dark blue uniform shifted uncomfortably on the screen.

  “My apologies for the situation, Captain,” the man said. “Yes, we shall come aboard your ship whether you agree or not, but I still wanted to extend some courtesy.”

  Ramya turned a bit more to look at the man but still couldn’t see his face clearly. The way he spoke reminded her of someone, she was not sure whom.

  Behind her, the captain chuckled wryly. “Courtesy? You’re about to take my ship by force and you want to extend your courtesy? Courtesy would be leaving us alone. Back when I was one of the GSO, that word used to mean something. Back when I knew Tuck. Long before your time, Gael.”

  The man on the screen fidgeted once more. “Perhaps it’s time you caught up with the present, Captain Milos,” he said. His voice had steeled.

  “I know,” the captain replied with a laugh. “I have a lot of catching up to do. Never thought I’d see an Arlington running around doing a Kiroff’s bidding. Times have surely changed.”

  An Arlington in her father’s employ? That was strange. The captain was right—the Arlingtons and the Kiroffs had been bitter enemies over ten generations at least. Ever since the Kiroffs had landed in the inner colonies and started building an empire for themselves, the Arlingtons were their rivals in almost every deal the Kiroffs fought for. More than half the time, the Kiroffs won. Being ousted from lucrative business deals, by hearth-less outsiders like the Kiroffs no less, did not sit well with the Arlingtons. The enmity thrived over hundreds of years to this day. Yet, clearly, something had changed for this man, Gael of the Arlingtons, to be working for Trysten Kiroff.

  Ramya turned some more to look at him and then turned away in shock as recognition dawned on her. He had sounded familiar for a reason. He was the man she had bumped into in the verandah at CAWStrat, the one she had danced the Decosset with.

  Ramya cringed. She had danced with an Arlington? And why was Gael Arlington working for her father? For money? Or was it something else?

  There was so much Ramya couldn’t fathom. Back at the CAWStrat, why had Gael not told her his real name? Had he recognized her? When she’d lied about her own name, he must’ve known who she was. Ramya tugged at her visor. She couldn’t let him see her now.

  “You do your catching up, Captain,” Gael thundered on the screen. “My agents will be boarding your ship right now. I hope you’ll lower your shields and not make us tear it down.”

  “Wiz, lower the shields for the boarding please,” the captain commanded.

  “Done,” said Wiz an instant later.

  “Touran Team, go,” Lieutenant Gael Arlington of the GSO yelled.

  Ramya squinted at the screen that showed the Endeavor’s cargo hold. “They’re boarding now,” she whispered through her comm to Ross and Fenny.

  “Close the channel, Rami,” Captain Milos ordered. “We’re done talking.”

  Ramya’s hand flew in to smack the button off. She sensed a keen gaze sweep over her; whether or not it was Gael’s she couldn’t tell.

  “Wiz,” the captain said urgently, “aim our torpedoes on their impulse engine. You know where it’s located on a Cutlass, right?”

  Wiz nodded so vigorously that Ramya worried his head would fall off. But she understood his anxiety. Wiz had always seemed a nervous sort, and now the tension in the COM was as thick as a chunk of lard in midwinter.

  “Good. Keep aim. Be ready to fire on my command,” the captain said. He turned toward Ramya. “Ramya, scan every section of the ship. They’ll likely show up at the cargo bay, but I don’t want to miss them if they pop up somewhere else. There’s no room for mistakes.”

  Ramya still didn’t get what the captain was planning, but now was not a time to question, so she concentrated on the feeds instead. She also did not know how to look for signs of teleportation, so she simply scanned the ship over and over. On her third scan, Ramya noticed something odd in the cargo bay. The
weird spot was smack dab at the center of the bay, halfway between the entrance and the far end where the Stryker was stored, and Ramya was certain she saw the air shimmer. She blinked a few times and looked again. There it was—a distinct wave rippled through the empty space.

  “Captain, I see something,” she yelled, pointing at her screen. She had no idea how she could make the visual bigger, so she hoped the captain would be able to see the strange disturbance.

  The captain stepped down from his raised podium and rushed to her side. Leaning, he squinted at her screen. “That’s them.”

  As Ramya relayed the information to Ross and Fenny, the shimmer grew more visible.

  “Wiz, their shield has to be down now to allow the teleport,” the captain said. “It’s now or never. Are the torpedoes ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “Fire all of them. Now!”

  An indistinct rumble rose in the belly of the Endeavor, and Ramya felt the ship shudder under her feet and all around her. On the screen, five fiery balls streaked across the space between the two ships and impinged in a mighty wave on the slender extension right below the sleek upper frame of the Cutlass.

  “It’s a hit,” Wiz shouted.

  “Reload and fire again.”

  Another fireball erupted on the screen within seconds.

  The captain had slipped back into his chair. “Rami, what do you see in the cargo bay?” he yelled.

  Ramya eyes had been glued on the shimmer. She had seen dim outlines of bodies—armor clad and weapon bearing—in the shimmer just before the captain had ordered to fire, but right after, the outlines dissolved. Even the shimmer was gone now. She related that to the captain in one breath.

  Captain Milos’s lips curled just a little. “Wiz, shields up and repulsors on. Now!”

  Wiz’s fingers flew over the array of buttons in front of him. “Done and done, Captain,” Wiz shouted, and almost immediately the Endeavor lurched forward. And then it fell backward again. Ramya held her breath. This seemed like an impossible battle. They were trying to break free of the tractor beams, but the dated Endeavor seemed no match for the Cutlass.

  “Full power, Wiz,” the captain yelled.

  “It is at full power, Captain,” Wiz shrieked back.

  The captain tapped his chin. The Endeavor lurched forward one more time but it still did not break free.

  “Keep firing the torpedoes. Now that they’ve pulled their people back, they must’ve got their shield up also. But we’ll still cause some damage. They’ll have to reroute some power from the tractor beams to hold the shield if we damage them enough.”

  “Why aren’t they firing at us already, Captain?” Ramya asked. All the Cutlass needed to cripple the Endeavor was a big blast from the turrets that were tucked under its flared midriff.

  “I don’t think they want to take the risk of destroying us altogether. It’d be an incident and they might also lose their Stryker.”

  Another volley of shots flew from the Endeavor and hit the Cutlass, and this time Ramya felt a stronger forward motion.

  “Engines at full power, Wiz,” the captain said. “And another round of torpedoes.”

  The torpedoes fired and the almost immediately the Endeavor shot forward. They were free for the moment.

  Fenny’s voice boomed in Ramya’s ear, “What’s going on? We seem to be moving again. What happened to the iffin GSO?”

  “They didn’t board, Fenny,” Ramya explained. “We started firing before they fully teleported and they retreated right away.”

  “Where are we going now?” Ross asked.

  “To the AP.”

  “Aren’t they following us?” Fenny said.

  “No,” Ramya replied. “They’re not moving. We might’ve taken out their engines.”

  “We’ll pack up then?” Ross asked, and as soon as the captain answered in the affirmative, the duo in the cargo hold started packing the weapons.

  On the rear feed, the Cutlass grew smaller as the Endeavor raced away. The GSO ship did not seem to move at all. The torpedoes must’ve got them good, Ramya mused.

  “Two mins to the AP,” Wiz announced.

  “Good. Discard our planned route to Alameda. Find a path that’ll be hard to guess. Doesn’t matter if it’s longer,” The captain said. Wiz nodded. “And don’t update the Confederacy . . . yet. We’ll let them know when we get there.”

  “But they can track us on the Locator System, can’t they?” Ramya asked, unable to keep her curiosity in check any longer.

  The SLH network had a powerful system of tracking ships within it. As far as Ramya knew, if the Confederacy or the GSO wished to find out where the Endeavor was, they’d be able to do it without much trouble. The Super Luminal Highway was highly watched.

  Wiz shook his head. “The Locator System only works close to the colonized planetary systems, not out in the middle of nowhere. Besides, it’d take a long time to find one ship in the cloud. It’ll be like what they say . . . finding a needle in a . . . a . . .”

  “A haystack?” Ramya completed.

  “Yes, that one.” Wiz nodded and smiled. “Captain, I’m going the Smyrnah route then.”

  Ramya recognized the name Smyrnah as a sparsely populated star system. The captain gave the pilot a grave nod.

  “Entering SLH,” Wiz declared. The ship shuddered and then it was steady again. Wiz flashed a huge grin at the captain and Ramya. “Safe and sound, but for how long is the question.”

  “It’d take Trysten some time to send another ship after us. I don’t think they were expecting the setback we handed them. But now we’ll have to keep them guessing. Pop in and out of the SLH, Wiz, and stay away from the big settlements. We should stay out of their sight,” the captain said.

  Wiz was hunched over his station, his fingers dancing over the controls. “Yes, we should be able to do that. We’ll still make it to Alameda in six hours max.”

  “Good.” The captain leaned back into his chair and exhaled. “Good work, both of you.”

  “Good work, Rami,” Wiz said between loud chuckles. “She was as cool as a frozen Maritane. Who’d have thought this was her first time at the COM?”

  Ramya felt a flush creeping up her cheeks when the captain glanced at her appreciatively. It was indeed a moment to cherish. She had done well, and perhaps for the first time in her life, Ramya felt like she belonged.

  The captain left his chair and stretched like a cat waking up from a nap. “Wiz, can you handle the COM on your own? I was planning to get myself a cup of noja.”

  “Sure thing, Captain,” Wiz replied cheerily. “Besides, I won’t be alone for long. Ross and Fenny will be back soon.”

  “All right, little girl,” the captain called Ramya and nodded at the door. “You’ve served your time and quite well too. Now off you go.”

  Ramya slid out of Fenny’s chair and after a quick fist bump with Wiz, followed the captain out of the COM.

  16

  “Interested in a cup of noja?” Captain Milos asked when they had only taken a few steps away from the COM. “I make it extra bitter.”

  Even though the thought of being rude to the captain crossed her mind, Ramya didn’t take her chances. She had seen the noja the captain made and even thinking of it brought up a shudder. She couldn’t give herself up to the torture of drinking a bright red cup of noja, no matter who asked.

  “Um . . . no,” she said softly but decidedly. “I’m not a noja kind of girl.”

  “I know,” the captain said. “You’re a Pax kind of girl, right?”

  Ramya’s steps slowed right away. How did he know? Was her gait unsteady? Or did she smell of Pax?

  The captain seemed to sense her questions. “When you ran into the COM, your eyes had a bright shine that I know only comes from Sosa’s Pax,” he explained.

  “I was quite in my senses,” Ramya blurted. “Wasn’t I?”

  The captain laughed throatily. “You know, I had doubted if you were. But turned out, you were good.”


  They had reached the captain’s quarters. The med-bay where Ramya was headed was further down the corridor. Ramya slowed as the captain opened the door to his chambers and stepped inside.

  “What made you doubt me?” Ramya asked.

  Captain Milos turned around and looked into her eyes. His was a calm gaze, yet glinting with the sharpness of steel. Quickly they softened into a twinkle.

  “If not for some temporary Pax-induced insanity, why else would anyone want to face the very monster they’re trying to escape?”

  Everything faded around Ramya. All that remained was the captain’s green stare and the wild thudding of her own heart.

  He knows! He’s always known who I am!

  As Ramya stood rooted at the captain’s doorway barely thinking or feeling, the captain scratched his chin and squinted. “Sure you don’t want the noja?” he asked.

  She wanted a whole jug of Pax. Where was Sosa when she needed her? Fear churned Ramya’s guts as she stared at the captain’s receding back. What if he threw her out? No! He wouldn’t do that. If he wanted to throw her out he’d have done it already. Yet, he didn’t. But why not?

  The captain had walked inside while Ramya lingered at the door. He poured himself a cup of noja from his flask and raised it toward Ramya. “You can stand there for hours, little girl, or you could come in and we could have a conversation. Your choice.”

  That was a lie. She didn’t have a choice. Like it or not, she had to have this conversation. As Ramya stumbled in, Captain Milos eased into his preferred couch. “Close the door behind you,” he instructed, leaning backward to rest his head.

  “Please don’t throw me out.” For all her resolve to hold herself steady, those were the first words to escape Ramya’s mouth after she’d closed the door.

  The captain sat up as if he’d been struck and a frown brought his brows together. “Why would I throw you out? You’ve proven yourself to be a valuable member of my crew. You’ve risked your life and your freedom to help the rest of us. Throwing you out would be the last thing I do.”