Wreck of the Nebula Dream

by Scott, Veronica

  Leaning on Mara, Nick staggered to the rear of the cramped pantry, sinking to his knees beside Damais’s makeshift bed. As Nick and Mara approached, Twilka moved the children out of the way.

  “It went well,” Damais said, her voice so soft and thready, Nick had to lean over to hear. She kept her eyes closed but reached out with one hand.

  Twining his callused fingers with her soft ones, Nick gave a gentle squeeze. “You’re amazing. I didn’t feel a thing, other than your presence, until the last few minutes.”

  “I apologize. My strength wanes with the moments of my life. I had to borrow life force from the Brother to hold long enough, but it was imperative to make your resistance believable to the enemy. A man such as you would not break easily.”

  Nick looked at Khevan, still restrained in the Shemdylann cords. The Brother smiled weakly, nearly as pale under his space tan as the old Mellurean. Even the rampant tattoo of the Red Lady on his cheek was less flamboyantly scarlet. “She Whom I Serve was gracious enough to permit me to assist Lady Damais.”

  “Thanks, I owe you,” was all Nick could say before turning to the rapidly fading Damais. “We have to get out of here, use the time you bought for us.”

  She opened her eyes, now nearly grayed out with total exhaustion. It was hard to remember how brilliantly blue they had glowed when he first met her. Staring into Nick’s face, Damais smiled slightly. With tremendous effort, she stroked a feather-light touch along his cheek, healing the venom burns. Moved beyond words by the sacrifice she’d made for him, for them all, Nick kissed her palm.

  Beside him, Mara was weeping silently.

  Breath rattling harshly in her throat, Damais struggled to speak one more time, then abandoned words for the mental linkage her race specialized in. So very like my son… Don’t grieve for me –

  The words fading like echoes in his mind, Nick had to fight not to spiral into death with her, consciously breaking the mental bond they’d shared before he became enmeshed in the flight of her spirit to whatever awaited on the other side. I’m going to die with her if I don’t get free.

  “Don’t follow her!” Tugging at him frantically, Mara yelled at him in her fright at what she was seeing happen to him. She hauled off and slapped him across the face with enough force to rock his head back. “Nicholas Jameson, don’t you dare leave me now!”

  Hand to his jaw, Nick reassured her. “It’s all right, Mara. I’m all right. Thanks. She wasn’t trying to take me with her. We were so tightly linked, after what we went through together for the past hours –”

  Taking her final breath, Lady Damais, one of the highest-ranking Minds of Mellure, squeezed Nick’s hand tight. Staring beyond him into a distance no living soul could penetrate, a slight smile on her face, she said, “Negarret, my son, you came for me,” and died.

  Nick laid her softly wrinkled hand at her side, bowing his head for a minute, consumed with loss and anger, and hatred directed equally at SMT and the pirates. He swore a blistering oath.

  “My brother,” Khevan said, “we must not squander her gift to us. She wouldn’t want us to use one minute in mourning, not now. There will be time for proper mourning later.”

  Unable to speak past the lump in his throat, Nick nodded. He stared at the old lady’s face one last time, taking note of how peaceful she appeared, not fierce and forbidding any longer.

  Nick reached for the teddy bear, gently lifting it out from under Damais and moving to give it to Gianna. “Here, sweetheart, the Lady doesn’t need this anymore. But it was kind of you to share it with her.”

  Accepting her beloved stuffed animal, Gianna handed it to her brother, who was waiting at her side.

  A minute later, Nick accepted the blaster Paolo gave him, retrieved from its simple hiding place. Automatically, he checked the charge before walking over to Khevan, his expression grim. “I’ll use the lowest setting possible, but it may singe a bit, getting those cords off. No other way.”

  “Don’t apologize – I understand. Just do it,” Khevan said.

  It was the work of a few seconds to get Khevan free, after which Twilka spent five minutes helping him massage the circulation into his arms and legs. The Brother gritted his teeth against the pain, only shaking his head when Nick asked how he was doing. “It is nothing as compared to what you endured, even though you were shielded by the Lady’s powers. I’ll be fine.”

  Nick was already busy melting through the magnetic-locking mechanism, using a slightly higher setting on the Mark 27, praying to the Lords of Space the pirates hadn’t bothered to post a guard this time either, thinking the prisoners well secured and helpless. The pirates were suspicious of each other, too, greedy, each eager to grab more than his fair share of the tremendous riches left on the Nebula Dream for the plundering. No one wanted to be stuck guarding a room full of captives. Even a Shemdylann captain can only control his crew so far in the presence of such a vast trove, lucky for us.

  When the lock gave way and the door slid open a few inches, Nick reconnoitered the corridor. “Coast is clear. Ready to move out, people?”

  “And the plan is?” Moving stiffly, Khevan came to stand beside Nick. Harsh, raw, red marks on his wrists showed where the cords had bitten deeply into his skin.

  “Get to the grav lift. The Shemdylann can’t stand grav lifts – it screws with their molecules. I’ve seen them tortured to death that way, in fact,” Nick said. A wave of uncharacteristically savage satisfaction flooded over him. I’m not the ice-cold operator today, not anymore. Well, fuck it. “We head to the shuttle bay and finish our original plan – take one of the remaining ships and go like a Denebian bat out of the Seven Hells.”

  “To where?” Mara asked. “You said the shuttles didn’t have enough range to reach safety. I’m game to try it – anywhere is better than here, but –”

  “We go along the tangent I expect rescue ships to use. It’ll take the pirate ship a few precious minutes to disengage from the Dream and come around to fire on us. Shuttles don’t do hyperspace, unfortunately, but I can pilot a pretty mean zigzag course. We’ll have a good head start, and a chance of getting away.”

  Pausing for a second, Nick surveyed his five surviving companions. Even the two children were solemn. We’re all pretty battered and beaten, one way or the other. “If we’re about to be captured again, either on the Dream or on the shuttle, I’m taking steps to ensure we’re not taken alive, understand?”

  “None of us,” Mara replied, demanding his unconditional promise.

  “None of us.” Nick’s voice was flat, emphatic. “There won’t be any debate, no retreat, if I decide it’s come to that. Agreed?”

  They each nodded, including the children, although Nick doubted Gianna had any idea what she was agreeing to. Paolo probably did understand.

  “May I suggest the women take turns carrying Gianna, leaving us free to deal with any pirates we may meet on the way to the grav shaft? As we are now regrettably reduced to one blaster?” Khevan said. “We can make better time.”

  “No problem – good thought.” Leaning over, Mara scooped the child into her arms. The girl nestled into her hold, hiding her face between Mara’s neck and shoulder, locking her arms around Mara’s neck tightly. Nick reached over and ruffled the toddler’s black curls, offering some wordless reassurance.

  “Right, let’s go, quickly and quietly.” Nick emphasized the last admonition. “Get into the grav shaft no matter what.”

  Nick leading the way, Khevan bringing up the rear, the erstwhile prisoners slipped through the portal and into the corridor. The D’nvannae paused briefly to force the storeroom door to close as far as it would go in its broken condition, before running light-footed after the others.

  Luckily, the grav lift lay in the opposite direction from the captain’s dining room, or the pathetically simple plan might have been doomed. It would have had to be the ventilation shafts then, and Khevan and I are big-shouldered men. Wouldn’t have worked for us, but at least it might have bought M
ara and Twilka and the children some time.

  There was a dead Shemdylann sprawled across the corridor.

  “Probably killed in a spat over loot.” Checking the corpse briefly but fruitlessly for a weapon, Nick motioned the others to move by.

  Reaching the sanctuary of the grav lift, everyone darted inside, each beginning the descent as soon as they stepped over the threshold. Twilka had no reluctance this time, although she gratefully clung to Khevan, burying her face in his shoulder. Encircling her with his arms, the Brother leaned his head wearily on hers.

  “This is absolutely nerve-racking,” Mara whispered to Nick, as they floated past Level Three. “I wish we could make better time.”

  “The pirates won’t check in here, not even if they know we’ve escaped. I promise,” Nick reassured her.

  “But they could find a way to cut the power, right?” she said. “I can’t take much comfort from Shemdylann anatomical issues with grav lifts.”

  Hugging her close as they descended, he tried to be reassuring. “If they think of it, yes. But they probably haven’t even discovered our escape yet. Shemdylann aren’t the brightest lights in the Mawreg constellation. Low-level bottom feeders, you know? Not big strategy thinkers. Hell, they wouldn’t have left us unguarded if they’d any extra brain cells in those saurian heads, no matter how beat-up I seemed to be.”

  “Lucky for us they don’t know how dangerous you really are, then.” Mara tried to smile.

  “Coming up on Level Eight,” Khevan said, his voice barely above a whisper.

  They hovered slightly above and opposite the closed door to the level, bobbing up and down a bit in the anti-grav flow. Nick gave Mara’s hand a quick squeeze, then released her and moved to the door, his blaster at the ready.

  “On the count of three,” he said to Khevan, who simply nodded, moving Twilka easily away and behind him in the anti-grav.

  Nick keyed open the access door, doing a somersaulting dive into the corridor, twisting to the left side as soon as he hit the deck, scanning anxiously in both directions. He heard Khevan grunt as he flung himself through the door, to the other side.

  “All clear,” Nick called softly to Mara and the others, still safely in the grav lift. Standing up as the women and children came through, he set off down the corridor, toward the big shuttle hanger where they had all come on board this doomed vessel only a few days ago.

  The others rushed to catch up, Khevan taking rearguard.

  Nick remembered it as being a short walk from the shuttle bay to the grav lift, but tonight it felt endless. He had the acute sense that time was running out for all of them, one way or the other, especially if the pirate captain had transmitted news of his incredible find to the Mawreg. The worry gnawed at him, a physical pain in his gut. Who knew how close the nearest Mawreg ship or base might be? The enemy would come with all possible speed to collect Nick. Live Special Forces personnel did not fall into Mawreg possession often, so they wouldn’t waste this rare opportunity to gather intelligence. The D’nvannae captive was additional incentive for the Mawreg to prioritize the prisoner transfer.

  The mere thought of an impending Mawreg arrival caused him to redouble his pace, overriding the signals of complaint from his abused muscles.

  “Should be around the next curve,” he called over his shoulder in a low voice. Then, as he approached the last bend in the corridor, Nick stopped, blaster lowered. “Why can’t we get a fucking break tonight? Just one?”

  “What is it?” Mara peeked over his shoulder. “The pirates?”

  Nick shook his head. “Worse. I’m afraid our plan has one major flaw I didn’t anticipate. See those flashing red lights reflecting on the wall there?” He pointed with the muzzle of his Mark 27.

  Mara, getting the picture immediately, stared up at him. “The shuttle bay is open to space? How can that be?”

  “Can’t we close it?” Twilka wanted to know, apparently not yet seeing the problem as a major hurdle. “I mean, come on, it’s a basic maneuver,” she added with unusual practicality.

  Nick led them the few yards to where the corridor dead-ended at a massive space door, blocking access to the shuttle bay, wide open to the vacuum. Various indicators and readouts confirmed the situation in no uncertain terms. Leaning against the bulkhead, he swore. “I should’ve thought of this, but it never occurred to me Bonlors would be so thorough. So unprincipled.”

  “Perhaps the pirates –” Khevan walked over to examine the data.

  “No.” Nick shook his head. “This has the fingerprints of our recent captain and his SMT boss all over it. Damn! They wanted to make sure even if there was someone left on board who could pilot a shuttle, or who was crazy enough to take the chance, there was no access. Takes too long to disable a shuttle, see, but it only takes a few minutes to disable the outer hangar controls, lock them into open configuration.”

  “So we can’t close the hangar doors from out here, repressurize the bay?” Mara asked. “I can’t believe this new obstacle is insurmountable.”

  “No, we can’t.” Nick shook his head. Damn Bonlors. I hope the Lords of Space throw him and his cadre of scheming officers smack into the path of oncoming Mawreg or pirate vessels. Or another asteroid. Yeah, a big one.

  “Could we get some suits, go in there and close the doors from some other control panel?” Mara was working the issue, trying not to panic at this barrier to their escape. She obviously wasn’t about to give up now, this close to getting off the ship. “There has to be a control panel inside the bay. I don’t care how badly this jinxed ship was designed, there’s got to be another control panel, Nick.”

  “The suits are all stored inside the hangar bay,” Nick said. “When we came in from the planet I noticed the screwy setup.”

  Mara stared at him in disbelief. “But it makes no sense. There must be some in a crew storage locker somewhere else? On another level?”

  “When McElroy spent the day giving me a tour, he specifically mentioned the problem, in fact. Said he was writing up a change order to correct it.” Nick frowned. “SMT seems to have been going for the record for inefficiency and stupidity, as well as the speed records.” He took another glance through the window set into the blast door, staring hungrily at the two gleaming passenger shuttles, sitting so near and yet impossibly far from their reach. Beyond the shuttles, he could see the blackness of interstellar space. “We are well and truly screwed.”

  “The rescue ship will sail right into the pirate ambush,” Mara said. “There’s no way to warn them off now, even if you could fastlink again so soon.”

  “I’d risk it, if we had the base station,” Nick agreed. “I hate to bring anyone else into this debacle.” Unkinking the spasming muscles in his back, he stood up straight. “Well, there’s one last thing we can do, on Level Ten.”

  “But Ten’s where the engines are.” Twilka’s face took on puzzled lines as she considered his remark. “How does going there help anything?”

  “I believe the captain intends we throw the Yeatters out of balance again,” Khevan said.

  “But then the ship blows up!” Twilka half screamed. She stared from Nick to Mara and then over to Khevan. Deep in thought, the Brother was frowning at the closed space door, flexing his fingers.

  “That’s the idea, I imagine.” Mara gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “If we can’t escape, we can’t just do nothing, can’t simply hand ourselves and all those poor people out in the LBs over to the Mawreg. Right, Nick?”

  “Will it hurt?” asked Paolo in a small voice. “I don’t care for me, but I don’t want my sister to be hurt when the ship blows up, okay?”

  Glancing at Mara, Nick tried to convey a silent apology. Forgot the kids were listening. He knelt on the deck so he could be eye to eye with Paolo. “It won’t hurt, trooper, I promise. It’ll be so fast, we won’t even know it happened. And then we’ll be beams of light, riding all over the galaxy together, forever.”

  Paolo swallowed hard. “Okay. I just
wanted to know.”

  “You’re a great brother, always thinking about your sister.” Nick genuinely admired Paolo’s attitude. “I had a younger sister myself, a long time ago. I’m afraid I wasn’t as good at taking care of her, though.”

  “What happened to her?”

  Mara put her hand on Nick’s shoulder, forestalling whatever answer he might have made. “I think the captain told us, Paolo, in the observatory, remember? But maybe you were busy talking to Lady Damais then. The Mawreg killed the captain’s sister.”

  “Oh.” Paolo stared at Nick, who nodded, unable to speak for the moment. Taking a quick step forward, the boy hugged him awkwardly, patting his shoulder once or twice. “It’ll be okay, to make us into light. It’ll be better than getting killed by the Mawreg. It’ll be okay,” he repeated, going to his sister. Taking her by the hand, Paolo led her in the direction of the grav lift. Twilka stared at Nick and Mara and then hurried after the children, to keep an eye on them.

  “Damn, I hate this!” Nick stood and smashed a fist into the bulkhead. “How could that bastard Bonlors do this to a whole shipful of innocent passengers? No damn speed record, no amount of obscene profit, is worth risking eight thousand lives.”

  There was no answer to his unanswerable query. The overconfident actions of the SMT Line president and his senior captain were so inhumane and reckless as to be nigh unto incomprehensible.

  “Well,” Nick said, shaking his fingers to work out the pain from punching the wall, “let’s get on with this. Retreat to the engine room then, and hope we can get access to the controls there. The AI told me engineering central had been blasted by a micrometeoroid, but I’m pretty sure we can reach the actual engine room.” He held up the Mark 27. “I can take the Yeatters out of sequence with one blast from this, and then the Nebula Dream blows up about five minutes later.” Reaching out, he enfolded Mara in a comforting hug. “It won’t hurt. I wasn’t lying, you know. It will all be instantaneous.”