“I don’t know what the fuck it says!” Raven shouted, trying to figure out the interface for the clamps. “I can’t read Sheshen!”
Mitchell got on the ship’s internal comms. “Dasaan, report to the bridge, immediately!” he shouted.
Marcus suddenly spotted four distinct dark spots on the horizon, only just visible through the low clouds, but getting larger by the second. Though he hoped desperately they had nothing to do with the crew of the Tengri, something told him otherwise.
A moment later, Taz came rushing onto the bridge, a worried-looking Dasaan in tow.
“How can I assist?”
“The docking clamps! It’s all in Sheshen,” the captain gestured towards Raven and handed him the scribbled note he’d received from Lishan.
Dasaan went to work immediately, leaning forward to tap away at the console’s controls. The four dots on the horizon were getting bigger, taking on distinct shapes that something buried in Marcus’ resonant memories told him could only belong to attack vehicles.
“Captain!” Marcus bellowed. “We’ve got incoming. They’re coming… fast!”
Captain Mitchell rose from his seat, approaching the window.
“Any moment now would be fine Dasaan!” he shouted, spotting the inbound craft.
“Working as fast as I can!” the Ganyatti barked.
Two of the Sheshen vehicles began descending, while the other two retained their altitude. They were close now, very close.
“Almost there,” Dasaan cried.
Two of the craft made abrupt landings on the concourse outside the shipyard, and dozens of Kesha Kun’s men began pouring out, racing towards the Tengri.
“No, not almost, Dasaan, they’re already here!” the captain shouted. “We need to go, now!”
The other two ships whizzed by overhead, no doubt turning around in case they managed to get airborne.
“Got it!” the Ganyatti yelled.
“And here I was almost getting worried,” Taz whimpered as he slouched against the bulkhead while Captain Mitchell practically threw himself back across the bridge to his seat, calling up screens of data.
There was a distinct clanking sound as the docking clamps began to release their hold on the ship. Kesha Kun’s forces burst through the gate to the yard below, showering the ship’s hull with laser fire as it began to lift off the ground. Twice the circling craft strafed the Tengri with their underslung weapons, shaking her to her core and sending tremors through the hull as she inched slowly out of the docking cradle.
Raven was sweating profusely as she grabbed hold of the controls and began pushing the ship into a steep climb.
“All our money’s on you, Raven!” Mitchell bellowed encouragingly.
Another blast shook the ship as they pierced through the veil of clouds. The ship’s sensors were beeping steadily to indicate that they were being pursued, but the Tengri had no aft-facing weaponry.
“I hope those bastards can’t do vacuum!” Raven roared as she pushed the engines to their limit.
Marcus peered through the viewscreen as they raced through the clouds. The atmosphere began to darken and another pair of energy blasts shot passed them. As the stars began to dominate their view, their pursuers began to lose distance, and a brief moment of weightlessness as the ship’s artificial gravity kicked in, signaled their escape from the planet’s atmosphere.
“They’re turning away,” Copilot Gardulo informed them. “We’re in the clear!”
“Make the calculations for Semion Station,” Captain Mitchell ordered. “Kesha Kun might have ships lying in wait further out in the system, and I want us out of here before they get a chance to spot us… and Raven, excellent flying.”
Chapter 58
“Iiit iiis doone,” Oolan proclaimed as he ran his stubby fingers over the outline of the implant.
Marcus sat up from the surgical table in the Tengri’s medical bay, rubbing the back of his neck.
“How does it feel?” Mitchell inquired, sounding concerned.
At first, he’d been hesitant to allow the operation, but, owing to their need for a new interpreter, he’d agreed in the end. There was no knowing how long Dasaan would remain in their service, and Marcus himself had jumped at the opportunity, seeing it as his way of honoring Serena’s memory.
“It feels strange. Cold,” Marcus replied as he looked out through the window.
Never before had a Terran vessel traveled at such tremendous speed under its own power. The tunnel of flowing energy surrounding the Tengri was an inspiring sight. Its hypnotic patterns evoked a soothing sensation, particularly knowing that each passing second put them farther and farther away from Nos Shana.
“Thaaat wiiill paaass,” Oolan told them.
“But is it working?” prompted Captain Mitchell.
“Tsuuudähmeee taaana jiiiteraaa sakiiilo?” Oolan voiced in a strange alien language.
“I… I do understand,” Marcus replied in astonishment. “Will I be able to speak also?”
“Yeees. Iiin tiiime,” Oolan professed.
“How many languages does it store?” Mitchell asked .
“Iii haaave iiinpuuut ooonlyyy ooone,” Oolan explained. “Thiiis mooodeeel caaan taaake seeeveeen laaanguaaage fiiiilesss. Buuut Iii haaave ooonlyyy Hiiiooodaaan.”
“Well I guess we can always buy more,” the captain shrugged.
“We should all have these,” said Marcus. “If we’re going to live out here, we have to be able to speak the language.”
“All in good time Marcus. All in good time.”
They had gotten to know a great deal more about their new shipmate since leaving Nos Shana. Dr. Gehringer had discovered, as much by asking Oolan as by physical examination, that the Telorian species were more plant than animal, shooting down roots into soil and basking in ultraviolet light for nourishment, a process that they need only partake in once a week under optimal conditions. The crew had arranged for a two by two meter square crate to be built in one of the cargo holds and filled with the soil from the few potted plants that had occupied the Tengri’s hallways, an ultraviolet lamp strung high above so that Oolan could sustain himself on the long voyage ahead. They’d even learned that although the bizarre doctor usually spoke and moved at the speed of a garden snail, this was more to preserve energy than a limitation. In fact, he could move and speak just as quickly as they could, but chose not to, as doing so would necessitate more frequent nourishment.
Marcus had taken to the gentle surgeon, having spent some time with him in preparation for the delicate surgery in the weeks since the Tengri’s hasty departure from Nos Shana. He mused glumly that he ought now to spend some time with Dasaan, practicing the use of his new implant, but he knew that would be hard. He’d been avoiding their new cook since Serena’s death.
With a sigh, he laid himself back on the operating table and allowed Oolan to run the diagnostic routines the Telorian had prepared.
* * * * *
The whole crew had crowded onto the bridge, dressed in their finest clothing for the ceremony that was about to take place. Though the suggestion had been Reid’s, Marcus knew that it was as much for his benefit as for anyone else’s.
Captain Mitchell had found the idea appropriate at the time, but the arrangements had proven more troubling than he’d anticipated. Dr. Gehringer had been reluctant to leave his research, and Dasaan had been slaving away in the galley, trying to understand Terran culinary traditions in preparation for the meal they’d be having.
Still, they’d managed to organize it eventually, and now the support staff were lined up on one side of the bridge, while the military personnel lined up on the other. Navigator Wei sat firmly in his seat, as he had his own role to play in the ceremony. By the forward viewscreen, Reid stood with his back turned towards the tunnel of light, dressed in his most formal grey uniform, as he prepared to recite his speech.
“Today we gather to commemorate the fallen, Emil Juey, Darryl Knoles and Serena Kim,” he addres
sed the gathered crew, pausing briefly after each name. “They will be sorely missed, both as colleagues, and as friends.”
Marcus could see Dr. Haake tearing up.
“Though they are no longer with us in person, their eternal spirits will always be with us, in our hearts.”
Though Marcus could feel the truth of Reid’s words, it was small consolation. He was overcome with sadness as he tried to picture Serena’s presence aboard the ship, her unwavering smile, her effortless grace.
“It is with the greatest honor that I commit our fallen to the void,” Reid concluded.
Navigator Wei activated the forward cannons, sending brief tremors through the ship as he fired into the abyss, once for each of their fallen comrades.
Once the ceremony was complete, the crew retired below to the mess hall, where Dasaan’s feast awaited them, a buffet of meat, freshly baked breads, and frozen vegetables cooked into a variety of fine pastes.
What had once been a clear divide between the support staff and the military personnel was now fading fast. Jago sat next to Captain Mitchell and Kaiden Karell, deep in conversation, attempting to overcome the sadness they were feeling with cheerful banter. Taz and Ahlain Lyer, the Tengri’s assistant engineer, were both busy trying to flirt with the ship’s technician Liana Tinley, despite the inappropriateness of the timing, and she was playing the two off against each other with great enjoyment. The bridge crew had formed a group near the forward window, where Raven was doing her best to prove her superiority to the two men by recounting tales of her former exploits, much to their delight and disbelief.
Oolan sat quietly in the center of the Galley, engaged in a lengthy conversation with Dr. Gehringer, who was taking advantage of the socially-sanctioned discussion to interrogate the alien surgeon about every imaginable aspect of Telorian physiology and sociology.
Marcus had hesitantly approached Linda Haake as she sat quietly in the far corner, wanting to offer his sincere condolences. She started tearing up all over again and Marcus soon found the situation too uncomfortable to stay. In the end he wound up claiming the empty seat between Jago and the captain.
“This is good meat,” bellowed Jago, tearing through a strip of succulent flesh from what looked like a small thighbone.
“I didn’t know we had any meat in the freezer,” Mitchell professed. “Knoles must have been holding out on us.”
Marcus feigned a smile. He didn’t really feel like eating. He found himself gazing out through the window, listening half-heartedly to their conversation as he reminisced about his time on Ga’ouna with Serena. How he wished they’d stayed behind when the Tengri had left. He began fantasizing about what their lives would have been like, but it only made him sadder.
Dasaan entered the galley with a bowl full of fried rice mixed with green beans, chopped onions and small chunks of meat.
“Would you like to try some?” he asked as he approached the captain’s table. “I don’t yet know the names of all of the ingredients, but I find that cooking is the same in all corners of the galaxy. All that’s required is a good palate, and a healthy dose of patience.”
“I want,” Jago mumbled with his mouth still full, lifting his plate.
“I was under the assumption that we didn’t have any meat on board,” Mitchell said as the Ganyatti spooned out a serving onto Jago’s outstretched plate. “Knoles used to say that it spoils too quickly for long voyages.”
“That is most strange. I found meat rather quickly,” Dasaan replied with a puzzled look.
“Really?” Kaiden said, surprised that their old cook could have lied to them about their supplies.
“Do you know what kind of meat it is?” the captain asked.
“I think it’s called ‘spot’,” Dasaan answered proudly as Jago made appreciative noises around a big mouthful of his latest dish. “Is it to your liking?”
“Spot?” Mitchell gulped, dropping his fork and suddenly gagging as he rose from his chair.
“Is he alright?” Dasaan pressed, looking over the galley in search of Taylor or Oolan.
“Can I have some more?” Jago mumbled, without realizing.
“You cooked Spot?” the captain yelled, still struggling to breathe.
“I do not understand. Have I prepared it incorrectly?” Dasaan asked perplexedly.
Marcus caught sight of Reid, who’d apparently overheard them and was now rushing off to the bathroom.
“You cooked the captain’s dog,” Marcus replied, astounded at Dasaan’s incomprehension.
“Yes, the spot,” Dasaan replied. “I do not understand why you would keep only one of such a skinny animal. There was not a lot of meat on it.”
“That was the captain’s pet,” Marcus explained, just as Mitchell stormed out of the galley, on his way to join Reid in the bathroom.
Suddenly Kaiden could control herself no more and burst into laughter.
“It’s not funny Kaiden!” Marcus insisted, but her infectious laughter soon began to spread.
Without warning, Jago let out a chuckle which soon erupted involuntarily into roaring laughter. Soon, Marcus found himself laughing along as well.
“I hated that mangy mutt,” Kaiden professed, still giggling. “It was always peeing on the exercise equipment.”
Jago laughed even harder.
Even as he laughed, Marcus gave a sigh of relief, knowing that despite their great loss, they could still find cause for hilarity.
Chapter 59
Ambassador Janosh sat in the lotus position on the cold stone floor underneath a canopy of multicolored glass. A metal cylinder stood on end beside him, shimmering under the starlight. The hour was late, and he’d made certain that his staff was long gone. Even Thales had been shut down for the night, in contravention of usual practice. The downstairs lobby had been cleared, the only remaining protection a pair of drones whose memory core could be erased after the meeting he was about to conduct.
“She has arrived,” the ambassador proclaimed, his voice carrying to the far reaches of the vast chamber. “I can sense her presence.”
Rodan placed his hand on the handle of his blade in preparation. Although the ambassador was a powerful figure, both politically and in terms of psionic and martial prowess, Rodan did not like the idea of him conducting a meeting in so vulnerable a state. It had taken some convincing, but the ambassador had finally consented to have Rodan act as his sentinel, on the condition that he stay hidden for the duration of the meeting.
“It is time,” Janosh said softly, and Rodan stepped into the shadows.
A moment later they heard the sound of approaching footsteps, echoing gradually louder and louder throughout the chamber. It didn’t take long after that for the alluring female form to appear, silhouetted by the intense light source out in the corridor.
“You men and your ssshadow play,” she remarked snidely. “Your influenccce isss outweighed only by your paranoia.”
“It is good to see you again, Shikari,” Janosh lied. “Please take a seat.”
She had arrived unescorted, as he had requested, a state that obviously unnerved her, for all that she was doing her best to appear otherwise.
She lowered herself to the floor, resting on her knees in front of him, tilting her head ever so slightly as she studied him, attempting to appear amiable.
“I would offer you refreshments, but…”
“But your ssstaff ssseemsss to have gone home for the night,” she finished his sentence.
“Indeed.”
“I heard the Councccil voted in your favor,” she prompted after an awkward silence. “I trussst that meansss the recordingsss played their part?”
“They did,” he replied. “You performed admirably.”
“And isss that my payment?” she gestured towards the metal cylinder.
“As requested,” he acknowledged, handing it to her.
She reached out to take it from him, but he held on tight, refusing to release the metal object.
“I trust you have not forgotten the second part of our arrangement?” he reminded her.
“My dear Ambassssador,” she teased. “Shikari doesssn’t mate and tell.”
“Hmpf,” he snorted, the imagery enough to make him retch.
He released his grip and immediately she snapped the cylinder from his grasp, rising promptly to her feet. She strode towards the exit, pausing briefly to blow him a kiss before she disappeared into the night.
“Master, why must you resort to dealing with the likes of her?” Rodan said as he stepped out of the shadows.
“A necessary evil,” the ambassador assured him.
“But what does it serve to discredit the Terrans?”
“To allow the Terrans a position in the Etherium would be a travesty. It could spell disaster for the Gaian people, and the Merillian galaxy as a whole. Now at least the Council will think twice.”
“There has to be another way, Master. I cannot feel comfortable with this,” Rodan professed.
“Had the Council but heeded my words in the first place, none of this would have been necessary.”
“But-” Rodan began to argue.
“But nothing,” the ambassador cut him off, his expression suddenly turning grave. “I have gone through proper channels, pleaded with them to hear my words… Gaia’s words…. but they would have none of it. An example had to be made. They need to know the true nature of the Terrans.”
Rodan lowered his gaze. Although he did not agree with his master’s methods, the ambassador was following Gaia’s will. Rodan only hoped that he would not surrender his humanity in the pursuit of his goals.
“As you wish, Master.”
“When the Terran vessel returns, I need you to infiltrate their ship and hack into their navigational computer. As soon as you have the coordinates of their home system, you are to relay the coordinates to the Triumvirate. I want that scout vessel on route as quickly as possible.”
“Yes Master,” Rodan agreed, bowing his head in reverence.
Merillian: 2 (Locus Origin) Page 40