Return to Dragon Planet: Book one of the Dragon Planet Trilogy

by S A Robertson

  “Blake! You’re back!”

  “Seems that way.” He walked slowly through the oil patches and lowered himself onto a nearby whisky crate. Just the smell of alcohol reminded him that he could do with a drink, despite the early hour.

  “What happened?” Skreet clambered down from his perch and scuttled over to where Blake was sitting, his back pressed against the wall. “I’ve been looking all over for ye: at Qualens, at Otto’s. In the end, I came back here. Where ye been? I was worried sick.”

  “Grubs,” Blake said simply. “He needed to see me.”

  “And you’re alive?”

  “Just about.”

  “How come?”

  Blake didn’t reply at first. Even though he knew he had no choice, it was almost as if he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

  “Blake?” Skreet’s huge, globe-like eyes studied his friend with concern. “What’s the matter?”

  Blake set his jaw. “I need to call the elf,” he said. “Looks like we’re going on a trip.”

  “The dragon thing? Ye sure?”

  “Then I’ll have to head over to Otto’s. He has something of mine stored in his lock-up.”

  “Okay. But ye really up to this Blake? I mean, physically n’ all.”

  Blake grunted. He looked to his office. Through the glass he could just make out the bottle Nyara had given him. It seemed to glimmer in the shadows. “Don’t worry,” he replied. “I have something to take care of that.”

  FIVE

  1

  Ahead, the asteroid loomed. It was the shape of a hammer, the size of a small moon, and Gemini Sohn of the Ranger Patrol knew it could mean losing her quarry. As she leaned on the stick, tilting her Chaser away, she manoeuvred into the sparkling slipstream of the Space Runner ahead of her. While there was no law against the small craft being in this quadrant, Gemini’s suspicions had been aroused when it had taken off so smartly, almost as soon as it realised there was a Ranger Patrol in the area. Nor was it slowing down. Which meant it was up to no good.

  “This is Ranger Gemini Sohn flagging Space Runner D Class, flash number: 782 stroke 5.” Gemini flicked a switch to recalibrate her thrusters. “Do you copy? I have a warrant to come alongside and search your ship under regulation B6 of the Agran Code. Acknowledge or find yourself in breach of the Kharg-Rillion Covenants.” Gemini waited for a reply. She scratched irritably at her short, platinum hair. Faint static taunted her through the speakers. “Do you copy, Space Runner?”

  Nothing. Doubtless they were going to try and lose her on that asteroid. This wasn’t good. While she was keeping pace with them for now, she hadn’t enough juice to get close enough to the faster ship. Putting down an EEP beam to cut their engine was therefore impossible. Another strategy would have to be used, especially as the Space Runner also had superior manoeuvrability. And if the ship managed to slip into the asteroid’s low canyons or a tunnel system, Gemini was fearful she wouldn’t be able to follow.

  Checking her range, Gemini lifted a gloved hand up to the weapons bay. The practised motion immediately brought up a ghostly panel above her navigation instrumentation. Keeping one hand on the stick, she swiftly began to flip through the various options open to her, from drop charges to Dragon Tails to cluster volleys. None were suitable at this range either; none except the arrowheads. Which rather seemed like using a power mace to crack a horn beetle’s carapace. Still, if she fired the arrowhead at the right trajectory, it could well take out a shield. This would allow her to deploy a pulse blast and disable the craft entirely. So long as her aim was accurate. Otherwise, the arrowhead could easily glance off the Chaser’s shields like a stone skipping across water, or even breach the hull.

  Gemini chewed the inside of her lip, a habit she had inherited from her father. The asteroid was growing large in her cockpit. Another few seconds and they’d be out of reach for good. That meant she would have to make a report to Hanaway as to why she was outside of her jurisdiction yet again. It wouldn’t matter to him that her instincts had drawn her across the border into forbidden dwarfish territory for a reason. He would just see how she had violated another rule in a long list of broken rules, and this could easily tip him over the edge. On the other hand, if she seized a ship carrying illicit cargo—which she suspected was why the Space Runner was trying to outpace her—she might have enough leverage to avoid serious punishment. It was the kind of risks she was prepared to take in the hope of kicking another poacher or trafficker out of circulation. It was why she was the most successful young ranger in her section.

  Gemini’s hand wavered. The Space Runner was banking right, readying itself to counter the asteroid’s weak gravitational pull. It was now or never.

  Make the play Gem, or drop out for good, she thought.

  With a grunt, Gemini selected the arrowheads. Scrolling her finger toward the locking rigs, she immediately heard the dull metallic clunk. Below her seat there was a shudder. Then she dropped her hand and pulled the Chaser back into alignment behind the Space Runner. She gripped the stick with both hands, the display across the cockpit now live with flashing red symbols. Cocking her head, she cracked the sinews in her neck, and blinked rapidly a few times. There wasn’t room for mistakes, she knew. A misfire would be disastrous. Better to take those extra few seconds to be sure of the aim. She started to expel all the air out of her lungs, muttering under her breath, “Easy does it, Gem. Just a little more to the right…”

  The Space Runner lurched. Calmly, Gemini followed it, waiting until the crosshairs sank back into position. Then finally she gripped the trigger and a searing flash of hot white light leapt from the silos beneath her.

  Gemini immediately dragged the Chaser up. She would have to be above the Space Runner to deploy the pulse blast. But even as she swept her hand up to engage the weapon’s bay again, her eyes couldn’t help but level on the retreating Space Runner as the spears of energy she had deployed sank through the fuselage stream behind her target. The Space Runner suddenly tilted left this time. By now it would have been alerted to the approaching crisis. Luckily, Gemini had anticipated the evasion, and as it tried to roll out the way, it slipped right into the arrowhead’s path. There was a sparkling flash of green brilliance clipping just below the comm tower. That was it! Gemini bobbed her head in grim satisfaction. A trembling graphic on the display indicated the Space Runner’s shields were bleeding out. Before too long they would be below twenty percent and ineffective against a pulse blast. Immediately she locked and loaded the rigs and slipped her finger back onto her trigger. The Space Runner also seemed to be slowing down. Gemini eased the Chaser even higher above the Space Runner’s tail. And with a snap of her thumb dropped the pulse blast with practised precision.

  2

  Fitful red lights greeted Gemini as the airlock cranked open, prompting her to grip her pulse rifle more fiercely. Standing for a moment, breathing in the sweet taste of oxygen from her breather, she waited for the doors to slide back entirely. Then she took slow, tentative steps toward the threshold. Alarms were sounding in monotone bleats. A thin layer of mist, probably from the extinguishers, crept up to meet her boots. Gemini leaned out into the corridor.

  It was times like this that Gemini almost wished she had backup. Being a on a solo detail in the Great Beyond could often be a dangerous business. Who knew what desperate creatures she might happen upon, and many of them heavily armed? But Gemini had decided long ago that she was best as a Sweeper—a rank she had achieved after just three years in the Patrol. For one, she didn’t suffer from Void Sickness, never succumbing to melancholy thoughts common to that condition. For another, she didn’t have to rely on anyone else: a mistake she’d made almost to her cost not long after leaving the Academy. Still, while Gemini always had the option of calling in a Cruiser if she thought whatever situation might warrant a little help, she seldom took up the offer. Sitting on her hands while she waited around often meant losing the jump on her target. And Gemini hated to lose a potential perp. It�
�s why she often took chances with her personal safety that others might have shunned, enjoying more than her fair share of sticky situations.

  Like now.

  Gemini hadn’t the first clue who owned this particular Space Runner. The logs on her licence system told her the craft had been commissioned by a small mining company to scout out new seams amongst the asteroid fields. But she doubted that. Such ships changed hands all the time, licences were not kept up to date, and if the intention were to conceal the purpose of the ship, there wouldn’t be any recent record at all. No. Gemini was certain this was being used as a smuggling vessel. Its purpose? To either transport illicit material poached on one of the habitable planets, or live goods to the outlying moons. The market for such exotic bounty was huge. And the risk at falling foul of the law was often outweighed by the incredible rewards. Therefore, ships like this, with so much to lose, could carry dangerous protection.

  Stepping out fully into the bubbling mist, Gemini looked toward the aft of the ship. Showers of green sparks from damaged cables flared in the darkness. The arrowhead damage had been more extensive than she anticipated. She realised she would have to check out the communications deck to make sure the hull hadn’t been breached after all, the ship’s atmosphere bleeding into space. It wasn’t a question of oxygen (she had a recycling tank on her belt), it was more about gravity. If the turbines stopped working, she would be at a great disadvantage even with her mag boots.

  Gemini swept her eyes forward and was met with the whirling red lights of a flashing beacon. It gave her a bearing though, and hefting her rifle in her arms, she started on her way, keeping alert. Whoever controlled the ship, even if they were hiding in a smuggler’s cache or in the process of trying to power up the lifeboats, the details of the licence would be found in the communications records. Gemini doubted that she would have any runaways, however. A pulse blast was very effective at disabling a ship’s baseline systems. The lifeboats would take a while to come back online. She guessed she had at least a few standard minutes to reach the bridge and lock down the escape modules. That would mean that the crew—whoever they were—would be trapped.

  She reached a crossroads and took a moment to find her bearings. There were runes in large letters on some of the closed doors before her, suggesting that at some point the ship had most likely been commissioned by dwarfs. This made sense, seeing as she was currently flirting with the dwarfish space border. But she noticed some of the runes were faded and another had been scrubbed from the door entirely, with only its ghost showing beneath. Besides, if dwarfs had been in charge of the ship, they would have immediately put out a priority signal, claiming diplomatic immunity against the Ranger Patrol. This would probably have been upheld too. Dwarfs were very protective of their own and distrusted pretty much everyone, even the Ranger Patrol.

  Gemini came to a halt at a mag lift. She doubted the mechanism would be working with most of the power out. Glancing at a wall plan which gave her a sense of where the bridge was, she slung her pulse rifle over her back and took to a ladder alongside the lift shaft. A climb of only one flight would bring her up to the right level. And with another quick look to the corridor behind her (the ship’s emergency lighting beating like a labouring heartbeat), she began to haul herself up until she emerged from the shaft. Poking her head out through the dissipating mist, Gemini took in another long corridor. The bridge was to her right. But as she idly turned her head left, she suddenly saw a darting movement: a shadow skipping out of sight.

  Immediately, Gemini ducked down. Cramped as she was at the top of the ladder, she couldn’t easily grapple for her pulse rifle, now slung on her back. Instead, she waited for a moment or two to see if the shadow emerged or others followed. When none did, she quickly pulled herself up the last few rungs. Then, freeing the rifle from her back, she brought it up to her shoulder and thumbed off the safety. Hesitating, Gemini considered her options. Whatever she had briefly seen had been quick. But in the boiling fog and with the constant pulse of the lights, it had been impossible to see what kind of creature it was. Still, whoever was skulking about in the darkness clearly was reluctant to give themselves up. And that meant she needed to be cautious.

  With another quick glance over her shoulder (to make sure the shadow hadn’t been a decoy and she was about to be ambushed from behind), Gemini headed off toward where she had last seen the movement. She was aware she was taking in more oxygen as her pulse rate elevated. The faint beeping of her air system warned her to keep her breathing in check. Easier said than done. She still had no idea what was lurking in wait for her. There could be a half dozen orcs loitering around the corner for all she knew. And with the best will in the world, a single pulse rifle probably wouldn’t be a match for a group of battle-hardened, cornered poachers.

  She reached the end of the corridor, eased around the corner, and scanned the area. By now, most of the fall-out from the extinguishers had drained away, and her line of sight wasn’t quite so hampered. In fact, as every room and passageway on the ship was now bathed in the intermittent red glow from the alarm system, she was gifted with the slightest advantage. For beneath one of the doors, about half-way along the corridor, she saw a flickering of movement.

  There was someone in that room. The breathing light was giving them away. A fluttering of shadow beneath the door.

  Gemini eased her finger onto the trigger of the pulse rifle. She knew the door would open for her. Locking mechanisms would also be compromised. It was just a question of what she would find waiting for her once the door slid open. Now she was beginning to wish she had brought a sidearm too. Something more deadly. A pulse rifle could disable an ogre if it was on a high enough setting, but that was also its weakness. The bigger the threat, the more energy the rifle would need to expend, and the more the battery would drain. She had maybe a dozen rounds in the chamber faced with a human-sized target, or maybe half a dozen for a group of orcs. If there was anything larger in that room, well…the rifle might be able to bring it down, but she would be completely at the mercy of anything else that awaited her.

  Pressing her back against the wall, Gemini gripped her rifle with her left hand, hovering her other over the locking mechanism. She waited a second. Then she was just about to slam her fist into the controls when she heard some faint whispering coming from beyond the door.

  Gemini stayed her hand. She frowned. The whispering wasn’t very loud, but it was urgent and in a language she recognised. Along with all her other impressive skills, Gemini was fluent in at least six languages aside from Common. And this soft chattering had all the hallmarks of one of the first she had grappled with back at the Academy.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she murmured, listening for a few seconds more until the whispering tailed off. Shadows were still moving under the doorway. Obviously more than one. Except now Gemini wasn’t quite so worried as she took a step away from the wall and punched the locking mechanism.

  There were at least eight of them. And when they saw Gemini, they let out an exclamation of fear. Then they raised their small, skinny, green arms into the air, shell-like ears quivering. Eyes as black and tiny as buttons widened in surprise, their stunted wings retracting. One of them even let out a curse.

  “Pixies…” Gemini breathed with a shake of her head. She lowered her pulse rifle. “Unbelievable.”

  3

  “Hello? Hello? Are you reading me, Blue Section? Come in Blue Section.” Gemini stood on the bridge of the Space Runner trying to hail Central Command. The Runner’s sheepish crew huddled by the sonar console, watching her with narrow, suspicious eyes. There hadn’t been enough handcuffs to go around. Not that Gemini supposed it mattered. Pixies weren’t exactly the most aggressive of beings, and she doubted she would have any trouble with them. At least, not in any physical sense. They were known for their devious natures and Gemini wanted to make sure she always had a good bead on them.

  “Blue Section? This is Ranger Sohn, badge number 74181 report
ing. Is anyone there?”

  Finally, a thin voice, which she recognised as Orane Corland from Contact Resolution, sounded through the ship’s communications panel. “Hey, Gem. What’s the deal?”

  Gemini smiled. Orane was one of the good guys. They had known each other since the Academy and had become fast friends, although their paths had diverged after graduation. Orane wasn’t a field type and had settled in Communications.

  Gemini glanced over to the pixies again. One of them was arguing with the others, jabbing a finger at their captor.

  “Good to hear your voice, Orane. I’ve got a live one here. Over in C Quadrant. Big traffic violation. Contravention priority.”

  “C Quadrant? You’re a little out of your jurisdiction, aren’t you?”

  “By just a hair. But I think I might be afforded a little latitude. I have a whole shipment of cockatrice eggs in the hold below. Bound for Xoros by the manifest. I’m talking floor to ceiling. Even Hanaway will want to get on the end of this one.”

  “I don’t know. He was pretty annoyed with you last time.”

  “He’ll get over it when he sees this shipment. You’ll want to send a Freezer Ship with a full quarantine hold over. I’ll drag us back into A Quad so we don’t run into any frontier scouts.”

  “Okay. You want me to give Hanaway a heads up?”

  “I don’t see any reason why not. The more time he has to cool off the better.”

  “Will do. Order on its way. Oh, and Gem?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Maybe try and exercise those diplomatic skills a little. Hanaway’s been in a bad mood all week.”

  “Only this week?”

  “Just a piece of friendly advice.”

  “Okay. I hear you.”