Children of the White Star

by Linda Thackeray

  Bolts of energy were ricocheting off the walls and flying in all directions. One impacted on the outside wall of their cell, barely missing the door panel.

  “Get cover!” he ordered. As Flinn retreated to the far wall of the cell, he grabbed Hannah and both of them scrambled under a table as the firefight continued outside.

  Nyall's aim was deadly accurate and he killed two guards with one shot each. Garryn was impressed, but had little time to comment as he leapt out of the way of a stray bolt. He reacted quickly, shooting the communications officer who scrambled for the com terminal to call for help. The man jerked spasmodically after Garryn's shot struck him in the chest. He fell across the communication panel, quite dead.

  “Prime!” He heard Nyall shout.

  Garryn looked up to see the last guard standing taking aim at him. Instinctively, Garryn rolled out of the way as the bolt streaked past his ear, impacting on the steel floor inches from him. Wasting no time, Garryn fired his blaster again and send him flying backwards from the force of his fire. The man hit the ground hard and Garryn heard bone snapping against the plating of the steel deck.

  “Are you all right?” Nyall asked, hurrying to him.

  Garryn waved him away and got to his feet. “I'm fine. Go secure the door. I'll get the others.”

  The sentry nodded and turned to the door as Garryn made his way down the corridor. Flinn and Hannah emerged from their hiding place behind an overturned table as Garryn approached the cell.

  “Good to see you in one piece,” Flinn said with a smile as Garryn deactivated the door.

  “Likewise,” Garryn said, grateful they were all unharmed.

  Hannah was not so restrained and threw her arms around him in a happy embrace. “We were worried about you,” she gushed before pulling away, her cheeks reddening.

  “I had some unexpected help,” Garryn gestured to Nyall. “Is everyone alright here?”

  “Yes,” Aaran nodded, his arm around Rachel. “Did you see Edwen?”

  “I did, but I'll tell you about it later. Right now, we need to get out of here.”

  Flinn was already heading towards one of the guards to get a weapon. He would have preferred his own blaster, but that had been confiscated shortly after they were taken. Realising their escape was far from secured, Flinn also took the dead man's rifle and slung it over his shoulder.

  “What's next?” he asked Garryn, once the Prime introduced the group to Nyall. Flinn hoped Garryn had some plan on how to escape, because he sure as hell didn't.

  “Well,” Garryn said, catching his breath. “I have an idea…”

  * * *

  This situation was rapidly deteriorating.

  After the General's meeting with the Prime, Danten had the impression Edwen was no longer in any mood for company. The major retreated to the bridge of the Dragon's Eye. Not only did he have a chance to get a breath taking view of space from the bridge, it also allowed him to keep an eye on rising talent. The reputation of Dragon's Eye's bridge crew preceded them.

  Today the ship was functioning on a skeleton crew. A few of its officers had transported to the Warhammer to assist after the destruction to its bridge. He felt a pang of loss knowing that Commander Neela was among the casualties listed.

  Although Commander Jemyn had offered him the command chair while he was on the bridge, Danten declined the offer. He wanted to see the Earth in quiet contemplation. The third planet had changed little, appearing just as iridescently beautiful as it had twenty-three years ago.

  “Major Danten,” Jemyn suddenly came up behind him.

  “Something I can do for you, Commander?”

  “We seem to have lost contact with the brig.”

  Danten turned around sharply. “What do you mean?”

  Jemyn, who was almost his age but showed it more, fidgeted uncomfortably. “We are unable to raise any of the guards on duty.”

  The Prime. Suspicion sprang instantly to mind. “Send a detachment there immediately.”

  “Already done.”

  Danten understood why Jemyn had approached him. The coward did not wish to be the one to tell the General there was a possibility of trouble with his prisoners. Jemyn had no idea who was incarcerated in his brig, other than the fact the prisoners had violated restricted space. Giving the man a disapproving frown, Danten brushed past him and went to the nearest com panel.

  “What is it?”

  “General,” Danten said, taking a deep breath. “We may have a problem.”

  XXX

  Firefight

  The ship moved silently through space.

  Her quarry lay in the distance, orbiting the blue world around which so many secrets were buried. While not as large as the dreadnought she was preparing to confront, she was certainly more manoeuvrable than her larger counterpart. Her builders wanted to design a ship possessing the strength and presence of a dreadnought, coupled with the manoeuvrability of a frigate.

  She was called the White Star and was the first of the Ravager Class Destroyers.

  These days the White Star bore the prestige of being the ship of choice for the Imperator when he travelled. While her duties were mostly limited to diplomatic missions, she was nevertheless required to be at combat readiness at all times. For this journey, the White Star could be called on to do both.

  She had departed Brysdynian space less than an hour after the Dragon's Eye made its own hasty departure. Being the ship of the Imperator, the White Star was always on standby to depart at a moment's notice in the event of some crisis. Shortly before the Dragon's Eye left the home world, the Imperator had boarded the ship without warning and issued orders for pursuit.

  Throughout the journey, she kept her anonymity by maintaining a discreet distance behind the dreadnought. The crew was suitably intrigued by the clandestine mission, but no one dared to ask the Imperator what it was about.

  * * *

  “Keep going! Keep going!” Flinn shouted over the sound of blaster fire.

  A dozen Security Elite troops were behind him in pursuit with their guns blazing. The corridor was a kill zone of criss-crossing bolts of energy, ricocheting off the walls. Further along, shielded by the corner hooking to the right, Nyall was covering Flinn's approach, shooting into the thickest part of the approaching group. Keeping his head down, Flinn rounded the corner quickly, giving Nyall respite so he could provide similar cover for the former soldier and the others to escape.

  Despite the tactic, the sheer number of pursuers told the space captain he couldn't remain here for long.

  As it stood, his skin still stung from the embers he could feel through his clothes when the energy blasts struck the hull and produced sparks that bounced across the deck. Smoke from so many discharging blasters drifted down the passageway, making it increasingly difficult to see how many troops were in pursuit.

  “Go!” Flinn snapped and continued to fire back now that he'd taken Nyall's place at the corner.

  Aaran and his family were waiting for them around the corner. With Nyall joining them, they could now find an alternate route to the flight deck where the Wayward Son was kept. The trooper ran ahead and made sure the corridor they would be taking to reach the deck was clear, ushering the family along before he hurried back to Flinn. Surprisingly enough, Nyall found the pilot to be quite adept in cutting down the numbers of the latest group of troops trying to recapture them. He could see only two of his former comrades firing back at Flinn.

  “Let's go!” he said, tugging on Flinn's arm.

  Flinn ignored him and took careful aim. There were two troopers left standing. While the logical thing would be to wait until reinforcements came before resuming pursuit, it was possible they might ignore good sense and maintain the chase. Either way, Flinn was not to let anyone get shot in the back. He fired a few more times, driving them back the way they'd come. After a few seconds, the corridor fell silent and all that remained were bodies killed in the firefight.

  “You're good,” Nyall said, lookin
g at them.

  “Too good,” he grumbled, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Which way next?”

  “This way,” Nyall gestured to the intersection of corridors up ahead. “We make a left turn at that junction and head down until we reach the maintenance deck. According to the schematics I saw at the last access terminal, it runs directly under the flight deck. At the end of the deck, there ought to be a maintenance stairway leading directly into the landing bay.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Flinn replied before he looked up at Aaran and his family. “Everyone alright here?”

  “As well as we can be,” Aaran answered, glancing at his wife and daughter. He should never have allowed them to leave Earth with him. At least there they were safe from Edwen. Rachel was doing her best to hide her fear, but he knew she was terrified by their situation. After spending years on a savage planet, she was accustomed to concealment.

  Around them, klaxons were screaming news of their escape all across the ship. Red beacons were flashing across the ship, indicating the urgency of the situation. The ship would be in full alert now and Flinn had no illusions that their approach to the Wayward Son would be at all easy or unexpected. Edwen knew they had nowhere else to go.

  Don't think about it, Flinn told himself. He had thrown his lot in with the Prime and prayed this played out the way…

  The discharge of a blaster halted the thought in his head abruptly.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he turned just in time to see a bolt of energy strike Nyall in the back. The soldier stumbled forward, an expression of surprise on his face before his knees buckled beneath him. He landed on his face, his back smouldering from the shot that had burned through his clothes and then into his flesh.

  Hannah uttered a short scream and buried her face in her father's arms at the sight of the dead man, while Rachel simply turned away. Flinn cursed under his breath, knowing he did not have to examine their fallen ally to know he was dead. Blaster wounds were ruthlessly efficient and the smell of burning flesh told Flinn that Nyall did not survive his.

  The shot had come from the first of three guards rounding the corner and Flinn reacted instinctively, opening fire on them with enough shots to drive them back for a second.

  “We have to move now!” he barked at Aaran and his family, prompting them to break into a run to get away. There was no time to mourn the soldier, not when they had perhaps a few seconds head start and no more.

  Less than that, Flinn realised, when he barely had enough time to shoot before the troopers charged around the corner firing again. This time, he didn't take up position, he just turned and ran, hoping the maze of corridors would protect them. He fired as he raced forward, his eyes fixed on the troopers behind him. He wasn't sure which one of them had killed Nyall, but at this point he didn't really care.

  Years of dealing with killers and scum in the seediest parts of the galaxy had made Flinn Ester very capable of staying alive. Since his Fleet days, he'd been a deadly shot with a blaster. It took him a matter of minutes to dispatch all three troopers even as he evaded their return fire. Shooting with more accuracy than his attackers, he kept blasting away until they stopped following.

  Somewhere in the distance, Flinn heard Hannah scream.

  When the ringing in his ears from the cacophony of exploding ceased, he saw the pursuing soldiers lying dead behind him. The wounds in various parts of their anatomy were still smouldering. Returning his attention to his companions, he realised then, to his dismay, why Hannah had cried out.

  Hannah was kneeling down next to her mother. Aaran held the woman in his arms.

  Flinn could not see the wound, but didn't have to. Blood was seeping onto the floor, creating an ever-darkening pool of crimson, staining Aaran's hands as he wept. Hannah was holding her mother's lifeless hand to her breast in similar anguish. Flinn blinked, unable to believe that he'd failed them so miserably. Just like Nyall: another life he was unable to save.

  Flinn took a deep breath and approached them slowly.

  “I'm so sorry,” Flinn said softly, knowing words meant nothing in the face of such a loss. He wished he could allow them time to grieve, but it was impossible. Those three he just killed would be followed by others. At the thought, he glanced up to make sure no one else was approaching. He saw no one yet, but it would only be a matter of time.

  “Aaran,” Flinn placed a hand on the man's shoulder in sympathy.

  Neither father nor daughter looked up at him.

  “We have to keep moving. Believe me, I would like nothing more than to allow your grief, but we don't have the time. Very soon, reinforcements will be coming and we don't want to be here when that happens. I don't think Rachel would want you to die here as well.”

  After a long pause, Aaran replied, “I won't leave her.” His voice was a monotone and his spirit seemed greatly diminished without Rachel's presence.

  “I know you want to bring her with us, but we have to move fast,” Flinn explained, and once again glanced at the corridor before regarding the man again. “Aaran, you still have a daughter to think about. We need to get her to safety.”

  Aaran shot him a look as if he were going to bite back in response, but then Flinn saw the man's grimace as he realised Flinn was right.

  Reluctantly, Aaran released his grip on his wife's body. Laying her gently on the floor, he wiped the tears from his face and got to his feet, taking Hannah's hand. The young woman buried her face in her father's shoulder as she wept.

  “You are right,” he said, holding his child, “I still have Hannah to think about. Above all else, she must be safe.”

  * * *

  The bridge of the Dragon's Eye was nothing less than chaotic.

  Edwen made his arrival on the bridge after Danten notified him about the situation in the brig. Reports were coming in about a running firefight across the ship, originating at the brig and heading steadily towards the landing bay. The team Danten sent to the brig to investigate found the sentries assigned to guard Garryn's companions were dead. There was no sign of the Prime.

  Once the General arrived, he assumed control of the bridge and Danten noted that Commander Jemyn was content to let the General take personal charge of the recapture. Danten wondered if the man was truly as complacent as he seemed. No commander liked being usurped on the bridge of his own ship, even if it was by the master of Security Elite.

  “Double the guard around their ship,” Edwen snapped at an audience of junior officers. “I also want additional security in the landing bay. Their leader is extremely dangerous, so inform your people to expect the unexpected. Shoot to kill.”

  The major cast his gaze out the observation windows of the bridge, admiring the stars beyond and the blue world he had last seen twenty-three years ago. It was not the only thing he was starting to see clearly. It was hardly the best time for soul searching, but when was it ever? In the last few hours, Danten had been faced with the consequence of his actions two decades ago. He'd spent most of his military career believing the Elite could fix anything. It was a shock to the system to realise this was not the case.

  “I want a deck by deck search.” He heard Edwen continuing to issue orders, but he was no longer paying any real attention. “Check every compartment and every room, even maintenance shaft and access way. I want a full sensor sweep of all decks leading to the landing bay. I do not want them leaving this ship!”

  The only thing Danten could not understand was why the Prime was heading towards such an obvious destination. Surely Garryn knew the minute news of the escape reached the bridge, the ship would be heavily guarded. What possible reason could Garryn be engaged in a gunfight that would alert everyone on the ship to their presence?

  * * *

  Flinn did not know how much longer they could remain on the run like this.

  More and more troops were starting to appear behind every corner. The intervals between the firefights were less frequent. Despite descending into dimly lit maintenance decks in an effort to t
hrow their pursuers off their scent, it did little good. Not only was the entire ship aware of their escape, but also they were on their way to the Wayward Son. Every possible route was being systematically sealed off. They time was drawing to a point where they could not run anymore and Garryn's gamble would either work or they would all be dead.

  This part of the ship was not designed with aesthetics in mind. Much of it was constructed with the essentials only. There was no steel plating to cover the hydraulic pipes and energy conduits, only rubber insulation where necessary. The dim lighting and the exposed veins running along narrow passages way made it seem more like a dungeon than a corridor for maintenance personnel.

  Next to him, Aaran and his daughter were silent. Flinn made no comment on it, aware the family was still raw from their fresh loss. Flinn wished they could have taken Rachel's body with them, but it was impossible in their current circumstances. Carrying the weight would slow them down and they needed to remain one step ahead of Edwen.

  They reached another junction of corridors. The heat from the hydraulic pipes against the cold air created a steamy fog that made this place hot and humid. He strained to see through the veil of swirling air. His clothes were stuck to his skin and sweat was running down his cheek. Motioning them to stay back, Flinn took a tentative step forward into the centre of the juncture. Hannah and Aaran remain hidden while he checked to see if it was safe to proceed.

  In the background, he heard the slamming of pistons against one another and servos moving amidst the gentle hiss of vapour escaping into the air. He took it all in, even the low drone of the engines in the deck beneath them. Then, without warning, he turned sharply to the left corridor and started firing blindly. No sooner than he pulled the trigger of his blaster, voices cried out in disarray. He didn't wait long enough for them to start firing at him.