by J. M. Hagan
“Of course. I’m from Plysar – we’re renowned for our love of entertainment.”
“May I make use of these facilities?” he inquired, picturing all the wonderful possibilities. A holo-chamber could recreate any experience he could imagine, with a little programing.
“Once we set out, you can do pretty much whatever you want, when you’re not piloting the ship, or helping me with the upkeep. While we’re on the subject of getting to know one another – I checked your file. You are well educated, Cane. How is it that an academic, like yourself, acquired a starship license? Did you have a ship of your own?”
He had been home-schooled with PDP educational courses, then went off to a federal colleague on a different world when he was eighteen. For four years, he studied history, philosophy, and navigational systems.
“No. My Uncle trained me to fly. He took me on my first expedition when I was sixteen. A spacer, like you. His ship wasn’t anywhere near at the level of Europa, though.”
“Ah…so, you didn’t learn at an academy?”
“No. Although, I did acquire my license from the flight academy on my home world.”
“Hmph. You’re lucky you had your Uncle, then. Lessons are expensive.”
“Indeed, Commander. I am quite pleased you have an A.I. here. I am good at plotting navigational routes, however, I do find it to be a dull task. Most starships don’t use A.I.s”
“Yeah. People distrust them. But, trust me, Europa, is fine. Like I said, she’s been here longer than we’ve been alive.” Venec stopped, put a hand on his head. “Ah, before I forget, Europa, sent along some legal documents to your PDP. You got it handy?”
Cane smiled, going for his pocket. “Got it.”
He opened the documents and signed his name on the declaration at the bottom. It was commonplace; Cane signed legal documents every time he boarded a new ship. It was a showing of good faith, to get things like that out of the way early.
Once he’d pressed send, a welcome message flashed with his name, and he was granted access to Europa’s database. The first thing to appear after that was the ship’s layout.
Deck-A Command Bridge, Ward Room
Deck-B Crew quarters, infirmary, kitchen area, quarterdeck
Deck-C Cargo Bay, Airlock, Hydroponics, guest quarters, fitness suite
Deck-D Holo-chamber, audience suite
Deck-E Engines, shield generator, TDS core
Deck-F OFF-LIMITS
Cane smirked. “I assume your lab is on Deck-F?”
Venec didn’t reply to that.
The command bridge was above the living quarters. They took a lift that made a sharp journey – just a few seconds after it had closed, they arrived, and the door opened.
Cane was yet again gob-smacked by the greatness of this ship.
The pilot’s den was in the centre of the large window to the outside. The screen gave off a cerulean hue. At either side of the pilot’s den were stations for co-pilots. There were three screens set aslant in the circular control panel. The chair was fitted with control sticks for flight. Behind all of that was a FTL radio with viewscreens above it for video coms.
“When I’m around, one of these will be your station,” said Venec, waving his hand at the co-pilot fixtures. “Europa is fully equipped with combat drones which you can pilot if we come into any danger.”
“Impressive. I must admit, though, I have never been in a combat situation…”
“It doesn’t matter. I doubt we’ll encounter trouble. One scan of Europa is enough to make most pirates flee.”
Cane smiled. “I’m not complaining – but, why is she so…battle-ready?”
“Some of my inventions would be dangerous in the wrong hands. I created them. I have an obligation to protect them." Venec opened a compartment in the wall and within there were several bottles of wine. A collection of glasses. "Care for a drink?"
He accepted, and when it was poured, Cane sat down at his chair and crossed his legs, holding his wine with a refined air. "Tell me, Venec, why are you going to the outer colonies?"
"For an experiment," he replied, before taking a drink himself.
"Would you be so kind as to elaborate?"
"You don't pussy-foot around nothing, do you?" Venec guffawed.
Cane drank a snippet. It was dry, blood-red, but the flavour was something to be savoured. He allowed it to settle in his mouth, as Venec came to terms with his direct nature.
After a moment of silence, Venec shook his head at him.
"Very well. I suppose it will do no harm, now that you're a member of my crew," he said, setting down his wine.
He was right – Cane had signed the legal documents. As a member of this crew, he was bound by law to keep secrets.
Venec stood up, a slightly proud smirk taking him as he played with his thoughts. Then his eyes centred on Cane.
"Any free being may travel the stars. We use stabilised wormholes – Gateways – to make giant leaps across the galaxies. I've created something...a little different."
“Something that will make you rich?” he guessed. The way Venec’s eyes narrowed, he knew he’d guessed wrong.
“No. Never been in it for the money,” he admitted. “Besides, ferrying passengers and cargo is lucrative work. Keeps me mobile, too.”
"Commander, the trial has concluded," interjected Europa. "They are delivering the verdict. Would you like to view Media-1 coverage?"
Venec's eyes darkened. He sat forward. "Yes, Europa."
The screen lit up before them. There was Amataius – a man despised throughout the galaxies for his cruelty. His long, dark hair was tightly knotted. His grey eyes gleamed in the court.
Thanks to FTL communications, all across the cosmos, people were tuning in to witness the trial of the notorious dictator. It had been a ratings hit, no doubt. Amataius was responsible for the deaths of millions of Venec’s people.
They showed the dreadnought in orbit around the planet in its defence. It was an enormous war vessel, the pride of the military. Nobody doubted that he still had loyal followers out there. Convincing people to go on suicide missions was something he had shown a knack for. The bombings on Plysar had been the talk of the galaxies a few years ago.
Amataius was always shown wearing a suit of spiked red power armour, while he had been an acting dictator. It had made him a terrifying presence. But all that stood in that court was the man, dressed in what could be considered rags. Still with his head held high, and that cold look in his eyes as they prepared to deliver his sentence.
The look in Venec’s eyes as he watched told of loss, of anger. Cane's quick observation of Venec's facial expressions led him to deduct that the inventor had a personal interest in this case. Like many other Plysarians.
As soon as he heard the guilty verdict, Venec switched it off. He looked sullen, yet peaceful. "We all knew how that would end," he said, displaying a grimace. "I just had to be sure."
Cane nodded. "Was it someone dear?" he asked directly, but not without care. Everything he saw in Venec suggested it had been someone close.
Venec looked away with wounded eyes and gave a slight nod. He drained his cup.
*
Siena waited in her room, checking the time every few moments. Her stomach felt weak. She had been sweating profusely throughout the day. Acid gathered in the back of her throat, as her stomach knotted, and she had to race to the toilet to spew.
A vile taste in her mouth, she flushed it away. There is no turning back now. If I don't go through with this – I’ll wind up being stuck on some mining colony in the asshole of nowhere.
She checked the time again. There was still an hour to go. She got a hot shower. As the water beat off her naked flesh, she stared at her feet and got lost in a dark void.
Then she sat naked and wet on the edge of her bed, staring at the reflection of her face in the small mirror on her bedside table. The corrupt must fall…
"Europa?"
A moment later, the shi
p replied. "How may I be of service, Siena?"
"Privacy mode. I am not to be disturbed."
"Affirmative," said Europa.
The door to her room locked. The A.I. left her. Only an override from the Commander, or an emergency, could break that command, now that she was a registered member of the crew.
Siena went to her belongings and removed the first item she needed – her personal data pad. Utilising her PDP, she connected wirelessly to Europa’s network and created a pathway with the code she’d been given by an experienced programmer, before the A.I. had any suspicions.
When that was done, she got the second item – a grooming appliance for shaving. Hidden inside was some conductive tubing. Father, I will not fail you.
Then the next item – another PDP. It appeared to be broken. She removed the item in place of the power source. A pulse cartridge loaded with ten bullets...
2
"Come on, what's the damn hold up?" Venec complained.
Their cargo was fully loaded and they'd been awaiting approval for departure from the station too long for the impatient inventor's liking. Even Cane was anxious to set out.
"There are still four ships in the queue ahead of us," he said, checking the log.
"I know," snapped Venec. "I can see it. I've never had to wait so damn long to leave a station. This is Plysar-1 – not some backwater mining station." He pressed the com and contacted control again.
After Venec tossed out some harsh complaints, and strong language, the operator replied: "We're very busy here, Commander, as you can see. I assure you, we're working as fast as we can. Please wait until you've been cleared for a departure request before contacting us again. Plysar-1 out."
"Damn her," Venec muttered, when she cut off. He was a little red in the cheek from agitation.
Cane had always heard of the temper of spacers when it came to flight, but he'd never seen it so vigorously displayed, and all before they’d even took off.
The butch inventor took out a cigar, offered Cane one, and grunted at his refusal. Then he lit it with a match, suckling on it. A small cloud of smoke came puffing out before his face.
"Commander, Siena, has inquired as to why we still have not departed from the station," said Europa.
The Commander sighed. "We're in a queue. Tell her it won't be long."
"Yes, Commander."
"You say you know this girl?" Venec asked.
Cane shook his head. "I met her while we were waiting. All I know is her name, and where she is going."
"A mining colony, wasn't it?" he gauged, with a pensive brow.
"Yes," said Cane. "Is that peculiar to you?"
Venec shrugged. "Ferried people all sorts of places. I don't judge. But, damn, what the heck is a young girl from Plysar doing going out there? All the comforts, all the opportunities, are here. Free education, medical care, an easy life. It isn't like old times – people don't need to do dangerous things to earn credits anymore, and her file didn't suggest a mining background."
While Cane's world was quite a different story, Plysar, being classified as a central planet in the Rovian Federation, was free of sickness, poverty, and discrimination. Everyone lived peaceful, long lives.
"You wanna know why she's going?" Venec asked, viewing Cane's perplexed face with amusement. "I'll bet you ten credits she's going to see a boyfriend."
Cane grinned, feeling all the questions vanish. It was so simple. Why didn't I consider that? The simplest answer is often correct.
A blue light flashed from Venec's screen. "Ah-ha! Finally!"
He prepped the ship to disembark. “Plysar 1 – this is Commander Venec Omodo. Cruiser-class vessel, Europa, requesting permission to leave the station?”
A crackle sounded from a speaker next to him. “Europa, you are clear to disembark.” A vibration was felt throughout the ship, sounds of heavy release. “Docking clamps disengaged.”
Venec took them up slowly. They hovered above the hangar as he reached over and retracted the landing gear. “Europa, adhere to speed restrictions and do not deviate from allotted course until you are clear of the station. Plysar-1 out.”
They sailed along slowly through the vast station, passing by other starships that were coming and going, hearing their engines get loud and then fade as they passed. Then they passed through the first atmospheric shield, a luminous green barrier, hearing it hum. When they passed through the second shield a few moments later, they were met with the cold silence of space.
There, ahead of them, was the dreadnought, so distant it was the size of a desk model. There were dozens of ships just out from the station. Even then, they saw one leaving from Plysar-2.
"What the heck is going on around here?" Venec sounded curiously. He checked his sensor readings. "Europa...what's going on out there? Why are there so many ships?"
"I'm not sure, Commander. Although, I am reading a lot of traffic. Many of these ships are in communication with one another on secure channels."
Cane almost felt his heart stop.
The dreadnought – flames burst through its hull with incredible rapidity.
There were multiple areas suffering the same intense explosions all over.
"Commander!" Cane cried, pointing, but Venec had already seen it with wide eyes.
"My God..."
The dreadnought began descending at an angle. Huge chunks of debris were spilling out, as it slowly spiralled with further explosions erupting.
Cane's sharp eyes spotted a bright light in the distance, a ship coming out of a TDS jump. He rushed to his co-pilot chair. Venec turned at his quick movement.
"Something just jumped into the system after the explosion," he explained, proceeding to locate the target with his sensors. "The ship is on a course for Plysar...the Hall of Justice.” Europa’s database recognised the ship’s ID instantly. “It's…it’s Black Dawn..."
Venec stood up in shock. They both understood what that meant – Black Dawn was Amataius' personal fighter. He had flown it during famous battles in the past. “They just took down the largest ship in the fleet! Now, Black Dawn is here?!"
"It's a full-scale attack against your world," Cane hypothesised.
"No," said Venec, waving his finger. "That Dreadnought went down from the inside. This is an armed force, maybe just a few men. This isn't an attack – this is a rescue attempt."
"How right you are, Commander," said Siena.
Cane turned and saw that she was pointing a gun at Venec's head. It was a crude weapon. Something she must have put together after boarding to get by Europa’s security sensors. The inventor eyed it with speculative anger.
"That thing even work?" he barked.
Siena tilted her head at him. She fired a downward shot, the sound deafened, and it burned into the metal floor with bright sparks, leaving a dark impression.
"It works," she warned them. "And I know how to use it."
"Relax," Venec said, his hands raising. "What exactly is it that you want?"
"This ship," said Siena. "It's time you and, Cane, made your way to the escape pods. Europa – you do anything to try and stop me? I put a hole in your Commander. That understood?"
"Yes," replied Europa.
"Venec – shut her off," Siena commanded.
"Europa...go to sleep."
"Yes, Commander."
Siena stood away from the access lift door. "Come on. We haven't got all day."
Cane and the Commander shared a side-glance as they advanced toward her. "Why are you doing this?" Venec asked.
"You don't need to know," Siena snapped, with venom. "Just keep in mind that I am willing to kill, and die, in order to achieve my goal!"
The anger she was displaying right now, in her tone, in her expression – Cane didn't doubt it was true.
He'd never been up against a gun before. Something told him Venec had. Cane had pretty much gone silent since he saw it. While Venec's initial reaction had been to challenge her.
"Get in," she de
manded.
They both put their backs to the elevator. When the doors shut behind her, they made the short journey to the deck below. She stepped out as the doors were opening. There hadn't been enough time to make a move; she'd kept the gun out of Cane's sizeable reach the whole time.
"Hurry up," Siena commanded, and they both walked out ahead of her. She followed a few steps behind with the gun pointing at their backs.
"You working with, Amataius?" Venec gauged, as they came into the corridor.
"Quiet. Keep moving."
Venec shook his head. "You know, kid, you're gonna be dead, real soon."
"Are you threatening me?"
"Nope. It's just an educated guess. You're helping to free the most hated man in this galaxy."
"I'm not going to explain my reasons. Just keep moving, and shut up.”
"What’s there to explain? You're an extremist, working for a mad man."
"Shut up! I’m warning you!”
"What's the plan? Fly my ship into some building? Maybe use the weapons to take out a city from orbit?"
"Shut up!" the girl cried in frustration, she shoved the gun into his back.
Venec spun, his hand flailing, and whacked the gun out of her hand. The girl pulled a knife from her sleeve. She swiped at his throat – Venec swayed.
Cane snatched her wrist, squeezed, as he twisted it painfully, and then struck her chest with an open palm, loosening his grip at the precise moment to send her crashing down on her back.
Venec, after being startled by his reaction, dropped into her chest with his knee and kept her pinned down. She coughed and got so red he thought she was about to pop.
"Get the gun," Venec snarled, picking up her dagger and setting it to her throat.
Cane retrieved the weapon as he bid, and when he handed it over, Venec pressed it hard against Siena's cheek.
"What's the plan, huh? How many more like you are there out there? Is that why there are so many ships? Talk!"
"I don't know," she yapped, weeping. "I just know there's a lot!"
Venec smashed the side of her skull with the gun, whipping her unconscious head to the side. Then he got up and charged down the corridor.