Wreck of the Nebula Dream

by Scott, Veronica

  The D’nvannae at his side, Nick slowly advanced into the bridge, staring in disbelief. Stepping over the first dead man gingerly, his boots crunching on broken bits and pieces from the smashed consoles, he did a slow 360, registering two more dead SMT officers. One was still seated at the com-link bank, the other apparently cut down by blaster fire while trying to escape into the ward room on the far side of the command center. The destruction was not complete, Nick realized, but comprehensive enough to affect anything they could use to communicate with the world beyond the Nebula Dream’s hull. The ship’s nav controls were shattered, as well as the primary and secondary interfaces to the AI itself.

  “Were we attacked?” Khevan was formulating his own estimate of the damage. “But it makes no sense. Where is the captain’s body? Why destroy the controls of the ship? The AI interfaces? I don’t understand any of this.”

  Nick sank into the nearest chair heavily. “I think I’m beginning to get a glimmer. Maybe.”

  “And?” Khevan stared hard at Nick, eyes narrowed. “I should be gratified to share your insight.”

  Frowning, Nick checked the gruesome scene on the bridge. “Not yet, okay? I want to get the bodies out of the way, conduct the children and the women into the wardroom. Let them all settle a bit. Especially Twilka. Maybe there’s something to eat in there, a medkit perhaps. She probably needs a tranq – she was shaking pretty badly. Then, once they’re squared away, I can see what I can do about getting the AI back online, talk to the ship, get some answers.”

  “Confirm what you’re guessing?” Khevan’s question was clearly rhetorical.

  “Maybe. Some status definitely,” Nick said. “I’d like to know what hit the Nebula Dream tonight. How badly damaged she is. But I think my update can wait a minute or two, while we tend to the civilians.” Even as he said it, Nick remembered Khevan was as much a civilian as Mara or the children. The Brother had been so efficient and so unquestioning in supporting Nick’s every move, he’d forgotten they weren’t brothers in uniform.

  “A reasonable approach.” Khevan crossed swiftly to check out the wardroom. “Empty.” Bending over, he hooked his hands under the shoulders of the nearest dead officer, preparing to drag him away from the stairs.

  “Guy have a name?” Nick asked.

  “Fifth Officer Lockyer,” Khevan reported crisply, after bending to read the smeared name tag on the once pristinely white SMT uniform. Matter of factly, he carried the body across the bridge. “Why?”

  “Just a hunch I have coming on. This is Fourth Officer Elsbury.” Leaving the body of the woman he had gently removed from her last duty station and taken to rest with her fellow officer, in a spot well out of the direct line of sight of anyone crossing the bridge, Nick walked to the first victim and carefully rolled him over. “This is McElroy, the guy who gave me the tour yesterday. Second Officer.” So much for poor McElroy’s grand ambitions to have a ship of his own someday.

  “This roster of the dead has meaning for you, I can see.” Khevan gazed around the bridge, doing a mental tally of his own. “No Captain, no First Officer, and no Third Officer.”

  “All of whom served together as a team previously, according to what McElroy said,” Nick answered. “The president of the SMT Line is missing, too. McElroy told me the other day, Gordis Yankuri was practically living on the bridge this voyage, along with Bonlors. So where’s his body?”

  “You think the missing ones did this? To their own ship?” Khevan did a double take, his expression one of complete astonishment. “But why?”

  Nick declined the invitation to explain before he was sure of his facts. “Let me talk to the AI before I try my theory out on you, okay? I could be completely wrong. I want to be wrong, let me assure you. But the captain of the ship would be the only person on board with easy access to weapons.” He glanced at his ally. Khevan was watching him closely, faint suspicion clouding his amber eyes. Nick made a dismissive gesture. “I had a tour as a professional courtesy, okay? A marketing job. I promise you, once I’ve talked to the AI, I’ll share complete details with you and the others. My word as an officer.”

  Khevan considered for the space of a heartbeat, nodding once.

  Thank goodness he’s willing to go along with me for now. Nick rubbed his hands on his pants. “Let’s get the ladies and children in, okay? I’m sure they’re tired of standing out there, worrying about what’s going on.”

  Khevan and Nick shepherded the others through the debris-strewn bridge, trying to keep the children from seeing too much of the blood or a clear view of the corpses.

  Trembling violently, Twilka was hardly able to walk. Khevan supported her the last few yards. Dramatically, she sank onto the brown couch in the elegantly appointed wardroom, somewhat ruining the effect by promptly sitting up to rearrange the pillows to her satisfaction. Mara led the children to a plush chair opposite and got them situated, curled up together. Searching out a medkit in one of the recessed bulkhead storage compartments, Nick inspected the contents.

  “What are you searching for?” Having assisted Twilka in making herself fully comfortable, Khevan joined Nick.

  “I was hoping for a tranq, for her.” Nick nodded at the shivering Socialite. “I think she’s going into shock.”

  Khevan took the medkit. “Allow me. I have some training. Judging by the bump on her forehead, she may have a concussion. I need to rule the possibility out before we risk giving her anything.”

  Nick was more than glad to hand off first aid duty. He checked with Mara, who was perched on the edge of the chair where Paolo and Gianna huddled. “You okay?”

  Conjuring up a tired smile for him, meeting his gaze, she nodded, her eyes serious despite the grin. “Thanks.”

  “I was hoping there might be something the kids could eat, or at least drink, in here,” Nick said. “A snack might be a good restorative for them about now. Children are always hungry, right?”

  “I’ll see what I can find,” Mara answered by way of tacit agreement. “And you?”

  “Nothing for me right now, thanks. I’m going back in there to get the AI online. If I can manage it. We’ve got to know what’s going on.”

  “And how soon we can expect a rescue ship.” Something must have shifted in his expression despite his best efforts to hold a poker face, because the next minute Mara rose from the chair and came the two steps to stand next to him, resting one hand on his sleeve, her voice lowered to ask, “What is it, Nick?”

  He shook his head. “Just tired. And my shoulder hurts. I banged the hell out of it when the ship first collided with whatever it was. I got thrown out of bed.”

  “There must be a painkiller in the medkit,” she said. “Want me to ask Khevan?”

  Rubbing at his shoulder, he shook his head slightly. “No, thanks. From what’s happened so far tonight, indications are I’d better keep clear of meds. I can handle a twinge here and there.”

  “All right.” Her tone was dubious.

  “Hey, thanks for rescuing me, doing the gallant thing and all,” Twilka called out from her perch on the couch.

  “How in the Seven Hells did you end up in the hands of those thugs, anyway?” Nick said.

  “Where are all your friends?” Mara asked.

  “We were going to party in Fippi’s cabin.” Twilka’s voice was tired, all ‘Lite affectations abandoned for now. “Only I was on an incredibly hot run with the dice, cleaning up big, you know? So I stayed when the others left. Can’t walk away from hot dice, you know? Bad luck for days after. But then something happened to the ship and I – I guess I got knocked out. Woke up under the gaming table with a headache, and the croupier’s dead body on top of me.” She glanced at the children, sitting wide-eyed in their plush chairs, taking in every word she was saying. Swallowing hard, Twilka visibly, and no doubt uncharacteristically, edited whatever she had planned to explain next. “Then, when I got out of the casino, the pack of drunken bastards surrounded me.”

  “Did you know who the oth
er woman was?” Nick inquired.

  Closing her eyes with a shudder, Twilka lowered her head, fingers at her temples. “No. No, she was already – they had already –”

  “Don’t stress yourself by recalling the details,” Khevan said firmly. “There was nothing we could have done, so there was certainly no aid you could have given to her, either.”

  As if registering for the first time who and what he actually was, Twilka stared at Khevan. She raised her hand to stroke the scarlet tattoo curling on his cheekbone. “You’re a D’nvannae Brother!”

  “Yes.” Khevan captured her hand and lifted it away from his face, squeezing her fingers slightly before releasing them.

  “Hey, I want to offer contract terms.” Her voice gained animation and energy. She didn’t even notice the tranq inject he gave her. “Get me out of here alive. I can pay, whatever the going rate is. You can do it – I know you can. The D’nvannae can do anything.” She worked to remove the intricate collar of golden chains and charms dangling around her neck and upper body. “Here, this has to be worth enough.”

  “Now wait a minute.” Mara’s voice was sharp with annoyance. She frowned. “He’s with us.”

  Khevan curled his hand over Twilka’s, stopping her awkward attempt to unclasp the necklace. “I’m not available for contract.”

  Blinking, she stared at him in confusion. “But you – your hair’s not braided,” she argued, taking a strand of it into her fingers for a second. “So you’re available. So we contract. I have the price, right here. This necklace cost my father a fortune – two fortunes probably – on the jewelers’ planet in the Inner Sector.”

  Mara stared across at Nick, who was watching this byplay in frustrated silence. He shrugged in answer to her unspoken question. “I certainly have no authority over a D’nvannae Brother. Can’t stop him from taking a personal contract. I’m grateful he acted as my backup since the problem with the lifeboat, on Level Three. There was a damn good chance I wouldn’t have been able to pull off the rescue of either the children or Twilka without him.”

  Mara transferred her glare to Khevan again. Her voice dripped scorn. “It’s common knowledge that the Red Lady who rules your Order favors profit over philanthropy. Twilka’s necklace is more than a fair price for the services of a D’nvannae, even such a high-ranking one as you appear to be.”

  The Brother’s answering words took Nick by surprise.

  “I cannot contract with you.” Khevan was speaking to Twilka gently but with unmistakable finality. “The Lady Whom I Serve decrees what a Brother does and does not undertake. This night I serve at this man’s command.” He pointed at Nick.

  “For how long?” Twilka pouted.

  It was not an attractive expression for her, in Nick’s opinion.

  “As long as it takes to get us – all of us – off this cursed ship. I can’t argue with the Red Lady. Nor can I accept a private contract while I am bound by Her to act upon Captain Jameson’s orders.”

  “I’ve never heard of a D’nvannae refusing a legally offered contract,” Mara said.

  Khevan raised one eyebrow. “And you are, of course, our contractual expert, Miss Lyrae. But in this matter, you’re mistaken. The Brotherhood does refuse contract if the Lady herself declines. Rare, I admit, but so is the situation in which we find ourselves tonight.”

  Nick cleared his throat. “I don’t know why you’re so sure your Red Lady wants you to take my orders, but I’m grateful.”

  Khevan made him a half bow. “The word of the Lady is quite unmistakable to an initiate.” He gazed at Twilka, who apparently had nothing to say, her eyes wide and her mouth open. “You’re one of our party now, and therefore, I’ll work to see you safely away from this ship, along with the rest.”

  Guy sounds genuinely sorry he can’t take the contract. Nick checked Twilka’s reaction.

  The girl licked her bruised lips, fingering the rejected necklace absently. “Well, I guess that’ll have to do then, won’t it?” Closing her eyes, she reclined on the couch, deliberately shutting them all out.

  Mara took a deep breath. “If we’ve settled the issue, I’m going to get the children something to eat.”

  “Let them nap a bit if they’re so inclined,” Nick advised. “It’s going to take me a while to do anything out there on the bridge. The primary and secondary AI interfaces are probably a total loss, smashed into oblivion.”

  “So what do you hope to accomplish?” Mara took some drinks and snacks out of the cabinets, dividing them up. “A vessel the size of the Nebula Dream will be helpless without two-way communication with its AI.”

  Nick grinned. This he did have an answer for. “Once, on a Star Guard cruiser, in the middle of a rough mission, I watched techs get their AI online in time to save us from the pursuing enemy fighters. I’m willing to bet the men who trashed their own bridge here tonight didn’t know about the manufacturer’s redundancies for the AI interface system. The AI monopoly keeps some proprietary trade secrets highly classified.”

  “I suppose if a Special Forces team had been ordered to destroy the Dream’s bridge, there wouldn’t be a hope in the Seven Hells of talking to the AI ever again?” Mara teased.

  “Damn straight. No one would.” Nick left them then, walking out onto the bridge. The portal shut behind him.

  About half an hour later, Nick heard the wardroom door open and he smelled genuine coffee. Mara had come to find him, a mug of steaming Terran coffee in her hand. “Nick?” She paused, staring around the dimly lit bridge.

  He sat up carefully, having been curled under a console to her left, reaching into the circuits. “Over here. Watch where you step. There are a lot of broken shards from the readouts and vids. Do I smell real coffee? All I could get in the Third Level dining room was synth swill.”

  “I found the captain’s private stash, I think.” She raised the mug and steam swirled above her hand. The emergency lights gleamed off the embossed SMT crest. The Nebula Dream’s name sparkled in fancy golden script at the cup’s rim. “I made some for the adults, didn’t want you to miss out. No cream or sugar or gincinna spice, though.”

  Nick reached out a hand. “I’ll take it as long as it’s strong and hot.”

  “Hot and strong I can deliver.” Gracefully, she picked her way through the debris on the deck.

  He came to meet her halfway, stretching his cramped limbs and then taking the mug. Their hands met for a fleeting second.

  “This is terrific, thank you.” Taking a second swallow of the hot, bracing fluid, he sat on the edge of the captain’s chair. After taking another drink, half emptying the mug, he gazed at her over the rim. “How are you doing?”

  “Oh, I’m exhausted. Probably not as beat-up as you, or poor Twilka, though. I’m not complaining. I’m good for whatever it takes to get us to safety.” She pushed a few loose tendrils of her hair behind her ear, adjusting the small pearl stud in her earlobe. “If I forgot to mention it before, thanks for coming with me, to rescue Paolo and Gianna.”

  Smiling, he pushed the last curl behind her other ear, brushing her cheek lightly. “Other than meeting you, this was a damn boring cruise until tonight – last night – hell, whatever night it was. I’m not bored now.” Preparing to resume work, he set the empty mug out of the way.

  Mara retrieved the cup, tracing the design with her fingertip for a minute. “I feel guilty you and Khevan were so close to getting off this damn ship on the Level Three LB and now, since you came to help me, who knows if you’ll survive? If any of us will? I honestly believed there were more lifeboats on Level Two.”

  “Hey.” He stood, caught her hand in his, and pulled her close. “I wasn’t leaving this ship without you. As soon as I got the lifeboat launched, I was going to your level to find you.”

  Surprisingly, she leaned into his embrace, her arms encircling his waist. “I was so frightened after the crash. I’d been working and then the next second, I was on the floor, with one of my computers on top of me. My cabin was d
istorted, the bulkheads shoved out of alignment. But the hull wasn’t breached. At least, not then. I believed I was trapped. I had to pry the portal open. Then I heard the children crying from the cabin next to mine.”

  Nick gave her a hug, since she seemed to need physical contact and he relished having her in his arms. “You stayed cool, did what needed to be done.”

  Mara’s voice was muffled, her head resting on his chest. “I wish Mrs. Nadenoft had survived.”

  He held her away from him, drinking in the sight of her beautiful face. “I’m glad you did.”

  There was an odd breathless moment of tension between them before he let her go. I wanted to kiss her so bad, wonder how she would have reacted?

  “What progress have you made in connecting to the AI? Any luck there?” Mara twirled his coffee mug on the broad arm of the captain’s chair.

  Glad she’d changed the subject, he glanced at the console he’d been working on. “A few more minutes and I’ll be inviting the others in for a debrief. I’m about ready.”

  Head tilted, she was studying his face. “I’m guessing it’s not good, is it?”

  “No.” He took a step back to the site of his painstaking labors. “Since you’re here, can you stay a few minutes, hand me the tools, so I don’t have to waste time getting up?”

  “Of course. I’ll be glad to have something to occupy me while I’m waiting.” Mara walked after him toward the console, broken shards crunching under her feet.

  “It won’t bother you?” He nodded toward the far corner of the bridge, where he and Khevan had placed the bodies of the SMT officers, covering the poor unfortunate victims with the heavy linen tablecloth from the wardroom.

  She shuddered, head turning involuntarily in the direction of the impromptu morgue before she gazed at him again with a deep sigh. “Of course it bothers me, but if you could use some help, then I’m here. We don’t have time to waste on being squeamish. So, I can deal with it. Thank you for keeping the children from seeing – seeing too much.”