“My name is Khiann…”
Fifteen
“My name is Khiann. I hope this galaxy-wide broadcast is seen by the hundreds of billions who will soon be affected by the Cavey rift being torn open earlier today when a captive human named Mystic First Class Dante of Earth was forced to free the Lost Ones from their Astral prison. These Lost Ones, known by some as Wyrms, have already lain waste to the planet of Cavey. I have attached video of their first few hours after being freed.”
Jack’s stomach sunk as the footage of Dante and the rift filled the screen. He recognized the Wyrms for what they were, even without her voice to guide him. Khiann continued as the images proceeded, replaying a Wyrm eating a Pirr whole.
“For millennia, the Lost Ones misled my people, the Pirr. I fear many will not let go of their convictions, despite what they have unleashed.” Khiann appeared on screen again, looking tired and desperate. “Our coordinates follow. I believe Mystic Dante remains a captive and may be forced to open more rifts.”
She looked into the screen as if she had more to say, then she shook her head, and her image disappeared.
So much bounced through Jack’s head, he couldn’t settle on one thing or one emotion. They had to save Dante. They had to do something, because the apocalypse now stared them all in their faces.
“Bava must warn his people,” Bava said.
“Me too.” Jack stood. “How far are we from the nearest mothership?”
“I do not need a mothership. I am no antiquated, bogged-down human vessel,” Night Thorn snapped, though with more fear than anger in her voice.
“Right, but it will take too much time for Khiann’s message to reach Earth. We have to get word to them quicker,” Jack explained, trying to be patient; he wasn’t thinking clearly either.
“We must also deliver friend Dante from the clutches of these Lost Ones.”
“Yes, but we can’t do that on our own,” he growled. Bava gave a double-take. “We need the rest of Earth Fleet and, yes, we need to tell Bava’s people. We need to warn everyone.”
Night Thorn sniffed. “You are correct. I am out of range of anyone who might accept my message.”
“Do we have any options, Thorn?” Jack asked. “There’s no time to fly home.”
“A communications relay six hours from here is operated by the Tiel, but they will not accept messages from a Pirr vessel. The next closest—”
“Go there,” Bava interrupted. “The birds will help.”
“I should remind you Tiel and Pirr are on unfriendly terms,” Night Thorn said. “If we double back, we will be in communications range of an Earth mothership in sixteen hours.”
“I’m with Bava. Get to the relay. We don’t have time to work around their issues with the Pirr,” Jack said.
“Very well. We are underway.” Night Thorn sighed. “Estimated time of arrival in five hours, fifty-one minutes, Earth reckoning.”
Bava showed a toothy grin and Jack nodded, settling into his seat. He wanted to go after Dante, but they had to prioritize. He hoped his friend wouldn’t suffer for it.
Suvi Relay Station orbited a blue dwarf. Its shape reminded Jack of a rose with a blossom at each end of a short stem, even if the thorns looked more like spines. The Tiel had a chain of these stations across the galaxy, maintaining their colonies in real time. Much of it was a mystery to other races, and the Tiel weren’t ones to share secrets. Yet, they sometimes relayed messages for a price.
For that to happen, they had to get the station’s crew to cooperate.
“Ping them again,” he told Night Thorn.
“This is the fourteenth attempt,” she said.
“Well…maybe they’re sleeping.”
A growl rumbled in Bava’s chest. “Birds are awake. They know we are here.”
“Then they’re ignoring us? Why would they do that?”
Night Thorn cleared her throat as a human might. “As stated, the Tiel are not friendly toward the Pirr. It is likely they are ignoring us. I will try a fifteenth hailing.”
A holographic screen unfolded in the air, a harassed-looking Tiel glared at them. Her ruffled crest feathers weren’t a good sign.
“Stop!” she hissed, clacking her beak. “We hear you. We do not wish to reply. Go away.”
“We aren’t Pirr,” Jack said, moving closer to the screen. The Tiel drew back, her feathers slicking down. “Yeah, we’re in a Pirr vessel, but you can see I’m a human and my companion here is a Yeti. We need your help. We need to send a message. As soon as you see it, you’ll understand.”
“We do not accept messages from unknown sources. Goodbye.” The screen went dark.
Jack hammered his fist on the pilot’s chair. If they couldn’t get the message out… “Try ‘em again.”
“The station is now jamming transmissions. They can no longer hear us.” Night Thorn sounded as frustrated as Jack. “Perhaps we should have gone to the mothership.”
“No, we can’t…ugh. Bava? Thoughts?”
“Tiel are clever but arrogant. They place their value highly; they do not believe other beings would dare act against them.” The Yeti glared at the space the screen had occupied. “Bava is not a representative of Yeti. Any sanctions would be against Bava alone.”
“Neither am I, technically. EF and the Academy would both disavow me if we got into trouble. Probably happily, the both of them.” That wasn’t a comforting thought, yet he saw where Bava was headed. “You’re saying it wouldn’t cause an interspecies conflict if we go in without permission?”
“Yes, friend Jack. If we displease birds, we will have debt that will haunt our successors for generations. We will never hold property again.”
“I’ll take that risk. I don’t have much to begin with.”
“Agreed.”
“You have your club.”
“A worthy sacrifice!”
“Bava…” Jack smiled at his Yeti friend, thankful for his presence. He wasn’t certain what he’d do without him. “Let’s get in there.” Jack slid into the pilot’s seat. “Thorn, find us a way in.”
“Working on it…. the hangar bay is protected by a force field. I do not know if I am able to enter without incurring significant damage.”
“And they’d see us coming. Anything else?” Jack asked. “What about a maintenance hatch?”
“There are several airlocks for external maintenance, but the surface of the station has a defense net. I believe it would electrocute you if you set foot on it,” the ship said.
“Even if we’re invisible?”
“I cannot tell if it is an automated feature or driven by a sentient being. Your best hope may be this.” Another screen opened, showing an airlock opposite the hangar. “The defense net will disengage during external maintenance. I could push some debris in that direction.”
“They’d have to believe we were gone, though,” Jack mused.
“Simple enough. My primary purpose has always been covert operations. We will appear to vacate this system, then return at speed in stealth mode. A convincing exit and clandestine return will take approximately three-hours forty-one minutes.”
“Okay. We’ll get ready.” Jack headed for the bunks to organize their gear.
Four hours later, Jack and Bava positioned themselves above one of Suvi Station’s maintenance airlocks. They clung to Night Thorn’s hull via magnetic boots and hand mags. They also wore small field generators shielding them from the irradiated vacuum of space. Jack trusted Night Thorn’s stealth field, but he still exerted his powers to give them an extra layer of protection.
Fifty yards away, a meteor strike had taken out one of the station’s spine-like extensions. Dark fluid boiled out of the damaged hull, crystallizing in a greasy ice cloud. Thorn had engineered the strike. It was just one spine of many, but the leak couldn’t be ignored, according to the ship.
The Tiel proved her right. The airlock opened, emitting a maintenance bot. The construct rolled over the surface of the station on wide trea
ds, its six arms ending in different tools. Jack held his breath as the bot rolled by. It didn’t react to their presence.
When the robot moved on, they released their magnets and pushed off. Jack kept his eyes on the airlock, gritting his teeth against the vertigo of space all around him until they’d contacted the door. They hauled themselves inside and cycled the airlock. Inside, the hatch secured. Jack turned off his field generator and took a deep breath.
They floated weightless in a narrow corridor. Thin tubes resembling pipes lined the walls and they used these to pull themselves along. Bava folded himself in to move through the corridor, and Jack stuck close behind, his hand on his sidearm.
They came to the far hatch. Jack went through first. The moment his head passed through, gravity cartwheeled him and he crawled out of the wall and dropped onto a deck, barely maintaining his footing.
Designed for use by living beings, the corridor’s scale was still a little small for Jack, meaning it was tighter for the Yeti. A wall console shut the hatch after Bava squeezed through. They headed down the corridor, Bava ducking his head. A mural covered the ceiling, walls, and floor, resembling a dense forest. Arrow-shaped leaves formed a canopy overhead, with trees and other greenery worked into the walls. It contrasted with the military vessels Jack was used to, as well as Night Thorn’s pristine walls. It made the space seem bigger.
The corridor’s spongy carpet let them proceed without making noise. They consulted Jack’s datapad. He hoped Night Thorn was right about the layout and they weren’t getting lost.
“Do you think they know we’re here yet?” Jack asked, his voice just over a whisper.
“Birds almost certainly know.”
They came to a T-intersection and slowed while Jack consulted his datapad. “What makes you say that?” he asked, still walking.
Bava put a massive arm in front of Jack, stopping him in place. “Bava smells oil.”
Jack sniffed. He smelled nothing, but he heard soft buzzing from around the corner. He activated his invisibility and leaned into the intersecting corridor. He glimpsed two dome-headed robots before he pulled back. A bolt of blue energy flew past his nose, leaving the smell of burned hair behind.
“They can see me,” he said, rubbing his nose. “My powers aren’t gonna do it this time.”
“It is well. You have created lure for Bava’s trap.”
“What trap?”
“Bava is trap.”
The Yeti crouched on all fours, tensing his muscles as he readied to pounce. Jack moved to the opposite wall and hunkered with his pistol out. It’d been useless against Pirric armor, but maybe it would fare better against Tiel robots.
A machine whine announced a robot on treads. Jack spied the muzzle of its gun, then the barrel, where it attached to the robot’s shoulder. The big gun pivoted at him. Jack backpedaled, squeezing off two shots. Both hit, but they didn’t seem to have any effect.
A high-pitched sound preceded the robot’s heavy gun barrel lighting up. Jack wove back and forth, wishing he had another corner to duck behind. Bava bounded onto the robot and howled, tearing its gun from its mount. He lifted the weapon overhead and brought it down, smashing the robot’s domed head.
The other robot wheeled the corner and took aim. Maybe if Jack shot the head, his pistol would have more effect. He pointed his gun, but Bava growled and punted the bot back around the corner.
“Stay back, friend Jack!” he said with his translator to his neck. He dropped it and clawed open a panel on the heavy gun he’d torn from the now-broken bot. It made whirring noises on the floor, treads spinning, then locking up. Bava fidgeted with the weapon’s open panel and braced the gun against his shoulder.
The second robot wheeled back into view, weapons illuminated. It fired, singeing the Yeti’s shoulder. Jack ducked. Bava shouted and returned fire. He roared his triumph when the bolt knocked the robot on its side.
Long arms emerged from its chassis to push it back onto its treads. Bava closed the distance with a leap, bringing the hard metal weapon down on the robot’s head. Another blow cracked it open, a third obliterated its inner workings.
Jack fetched Bava’s translator and handed it over, saying, “That was…fantastic. Scary and fantastic.” He patted a patch of smoking fur on Bava’s shoulder.
Bava held the translator to his neck. “Thank you, friend Jack. This is way. Come.” The Yeti took off with his new weapon slung over his shoulder. Jack holstered his pistol and darted after Bava, calling in a hushed yell “Not too fast!”
They came across another pair of security bots, and Bava barreled at them with a roar, not affording them the chance to fire. It would be petrifying to see the Yeti in combat if he weren’t Jack’s friend.
They reached the control center, and Bava shot the wall panel.
The doors slid open to reveal a slender Tiel, her blue crest trembling. “You! I told you to go away. This station’s self-destruct is in my hands. Leave now or be destroyed!”
“No, please wait!” Jack put his hand on Bava’s arm to keep him from charging her. “Please. If you watch the video, and you still don’t want to help, we’ll go. I promise.”
Bava grunted but didn’t argue. Jack held up his datapad and slid it across the floor. The Tiel glanced down at the video already playing, clacking her beak as she talked to herself. She stooped to pick up the device, keeping her eyes on them as she did so.
“Step back,” she ordered. “Farther.”
Jack backed up, pulling Bava with him, until their rears touched the far wall. The Yeti grumbled but didn’t resist.
“Push the triangle to rewind and unmute it,” Jack said.
She clacked her beak at him. “I can figure out human things. They are toys to me,” she hissed, then touched the screen.
Jack heard Khiann’s voice start up. The Tiel spat at the screen. Jack grimaced but didn’t say anything so long as the Tiel kept watching. He’d watched the video so many times he could visualize the images with the sounds. The Wyrm emerging from the rift as Dante collapsed. The surprised scream as the Wyrm snatched the Pirr into its black maw.
The Tiel trilled and poked at the screen a few times, seemingly accessing more data. “These markers appear to be…genuine,” the Tiel said after a long silence. “This isn’t a trick.” She looked at them and blinked her large avian eyes. “Is it?”
Jack stepped forward. “It’s no trick. We need your relay. We need everyone to see this. Humans, Yeti…everyone.”
“My people will wish to see this for certain.” She swiped the datapad screen and a bing sounded from a nearby console. “You will stay to await a reply. We can eat good food. Play games.”
“Games and food are great,” Jack said, “but I don’t know if we have time. The human Mystic in the video is our friend. We need to rescue him.”
“I am proud of my work, but running this station…it can be lonely. Company would be…welcome. Robots, they are not good at games.”
“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “You could come with us? We could use someone savvy. You’d be most welcome.”
“Thank you, human. The relays must be staffed, however.” The Tiel’s feathers smoothed down as she calmed. She tapped at her console, and handed Jack his datapad. “You may go, but you are not welcome back.”
“We thank you. What is your name?”
“I am Lela.”
“I’m Jack. This is Bava.”
The Yeti waved. “Bava apologizes for destroying bots.”
Jack put away the device and held out his hand.
Lela stared at it, feathers rippling over her face. “A human handshake,” she said, then put her star-like hand over his. “I have not done this before.”
Bava stepped over and rested his oversized hand on top of theirs. Jack grinned, unsure how to proceed with the odd handshake.
“It is good, yes?” Bava said to Lela.
“Yes,” the Tiel responded and made a cooing sound. “I do like it very much.”
&nbs
p; Sixteen
Coraolis looked up when the video ended. He’d seen it before, but it pulled him in yet again. He couldn’t help picking it apart for clues to Dante’s well-being, and it was impossible to look away from the Wyrms.
Everyone else in the meeting chamber seemed to feel the same. Delegates from every sentient race had gathered for the Council of Worlds. Some attended in person, many others were present as holographic projections facilitated by the Tiel.
Coraolis stood against the wall beside Administrator Andrus, observing and waiting to be called on. So far, the discussion had focused on the Pirr’s recent activity and aggression. Barbara McNuggen stood against the opposite wall. She’d caught his eye and smiled when the meeting started. It was good to see a friendly face.
Tiel Councilor Haila had the floor. The hologram exaggerated her size, yet she was still taller than the average Tiel. Her multicolored feathers glistened, and she was adorned with dozens of jewels and chains of office. The translator program projected her flute-like voice directly into the attendees’ earpieces:
“It seems the Pirr did not turn aggressive until they came into contact with humans. We all agree the Pirr instigated the conflict, but the fact remains that humans are their only operative rivals.” She shivered, and her feathers puffed out. “We do not work with the Pirr on principle, but we are not currently hostile toward them.”
Ambassador Rainier, standing upon the dais, frowned at the bird. “If I may respond?” he said.
The others assented, and Rainier came forward to face the Tiel’s holo-image face-to-face, although Haila stood a good two feet taller than the ambassador. “It is not human practice to blame the target for the actions of the aggressor. We worked with the Pirr in good faith. They broke our trust and our treaty.”
The Tiel delegate drew up taller. “The question at hand is not about blame, as much as whose problem this is. The Tiel have coexisted with the Pirr for generations. We want peace—”
“For goodness sake, all of us want peace.” Ranier’s voice roughened. “If you need proof this isn’t an Earth problem, I have someone I’d like you to meet via holo. I believe this might convince you.”
Dragon Redemption Page 13