"Run rabbit, run rabbit, run, run, run . . ."
He continued singing nervously as calculations on intersection times; firing ranges, possible scenarios and, 'gulp', possible outcomes spat lightning quick through his systems. Finally, quiet settled on the ship. Unnoticeable in the vast blackness that is space, the hare hove to. Of course, in vacuum all three vessels continued streaking for the outer edge, the hounds simply making much faster progress without The STEIN being under power. Two hours to action, he thought.
On shutting down The Stein ShipHam immediately commenced attempts at communication with the chasers.
"This is The STEIN Traveler, a free vessel of the Dahlian Orbital, it is clear you are in pursuit, please cease and desist. We wish to go about our business in peace. What are your intentions? Please respond."
. . . Nothing . . .
The only reaction he could detect from the warships was a flight path change, both changing course by a tiny amount. The intention, ShipHam guessed, would be to bring them into position to lock him in a pincer action.
"This is The STEIN Traveler," he called again, "an independent, free, peace loving vessel saying hello to the two pursuing warships. Please state your intentions?"
. . . Nothing . . .
ShipHam rested quietly, exchanging delayed running updates with Dahlia and quietly fretting. He made no direct communication with Regan or Marin; they were, after all, supposed to be on board with him. Nevertheless he knew they'd be following this game from afar and oh, how he longed for the company.
Becoming tired of waiting he reviewed his plans for the umpteenth thousandth time considering whether now might be a little premature.
"Hmm, yes possibly a little too close in system," he spoke to himself, "but I've had enough of running."
Idly filling in time Ham superimposed an image of The STEIN on the side of one warship. Shit! The tiny vessel looked like a porthole against the colossus, and there are two of them! He reviewed the fight paths of the two ships with their wide arc paths now definitely bringing them round to focus on him. It would not be long and then, he knew they would fire. What they had to fire he did not know.
"STEIN Traveler," The voice crackled through the PA. "You will prepare for us to board. You must return Merali, son of the Premier or you will be destroyed. Do you understand?"
"This is The STEIN Traveler, no one is captive here. I repeat; we are a free and independent vessel of the Dahlian Orbital. Please, standoff and cease your pursuit."
The split screen view being relayed back to Dahlia showed the two enormous vessels beginning to shrink as they turned, presenting a front on perspective, drilling toward the STEIN.
"I repeat standoff! We are a free and independent vessel. To attack would be an act of war against a friendly power." ShipHam put just the right amount of desperate tone into the voice.
"STEIN Traveler, We are acting on the clear request of your Premier for our assistance. This is your final warning. Immediately indicate your intention to comply or you will be destroyed."
. . . ShipHam remained silent . . .
"Counting down, five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . . . . There was a nervous hesitation, then . . . . . . . . Fire!"
ShipHam followed the launch of four missiles with disgust, only four . . . insulting! Streaking toward him from thousands of kilometers out he used the few minutes of respite to compose a short letter to Regan, just a few words in text.
'It's been fun, look after me!' then he focused on the job in hand.
The missiles loomed from opposite directions growing alarmingly large in the viewer as the seconds ticked by. Finally, nothing else could be seen, and the screen went black.
*
Dahlia Orbital
Regan glanced sideways. Like her, Marin, Sindali and the children were all perched on the edge of their seats following the delayed action anxiously. Minutes earlier the sight of The STEIN superimposed on the Coran warship had been terrifying, the magnitude of what she had asked Ham to do again hitting her.
What have I done? The plan seemed so smart, so great. Fuck!
The silence between Regan and Ham was like vacuum. Normally in regular chat contact, they hadn't communicated for more than an hour and racked with guilt she left him to his thoughts. She could still sense him there, viewing events from within, fascinated and anxious at the same time. What's it like, to watch yourself go to battle, to possibly see yourself die? Ham, do you follow what I'm thinking? I'm so sorry. [Ham, it's going to be all right - are you there Ham?]
He didn't reply.
Marin hardly seemed to blink, still fuming, furious at hearing the Coran commander confirm Beria was behind the attack . . . on him! Exchanging a dark look with Sindali he saw she too was distressed, not anger but grief. He reached out and touched her arm. "This isn't rejection Sin, it’s madness, she's dead to me!" His eyes returned to the screen.
Suddenly Regan was standing, yelling at the image as if her life depended on it.
"Ham, you're too centered; you can't be exactly in the middle! The missiles might loop back on you! Ham you've got to move nearer one vessel! Ham! . . "
The screen went blank.
*
The Palace
Beria followed the Coran feed with detached interest in her offices. From her viewing perspective, as the missiles streaked away she reflected on the death of her two sons, and the impending death of her eldest.
Fools . . . I was too soft. She clutched the hand of her bodyguard standing beside the chair and looked up at the young warrior like a predator. Perhaps it's not too late to start again. She smiled at the thought.
Turning back to the screen her pulse quickened as the small sphere grew in view from the missile lens and the smile on her lips tightened as the matt blackness filled the screen, and it went blank . . .
Then a moment later her view became empty space and she could see a pinprick of near light as the missile clearly streaked on toward the something. She sat up, alarmed and wondering what was happening as the seconds ticked by and then she stood, turning, searching for someone who could interpret what her eyes were seeing. Returning to the screen, to her horror she saw the growing bow of a Coran vessel and transfixed she followed the vision until the end, a cold darkness filling her heart as the screen went blank.
*
In the apartment, all three were now standing, Regan, holding her breath, hand on chest as if her heart had stopped beating, Sindali and Marin cast, like statues. No one spoke as they stared at the blank wall for what seemed an eternity but was only a matter of seconds. Then, a starscape appeared through split screens, and they could see two fiery balls, one in each screen and each growing quickly smaller; they were the missiles disappearing into the distance.
To their great relief ShipHam's voice reported in, "Sorry babe, couldn't quite manage the switch so it's not exactly an Arteis return to sender, call it performance anxiety; I'll do better next time."
Then one screen suddenly lit up with a huge nova like explosion followed a second later by another huge blast on the second screen. Regan collapsed to her knees gasping with relief.
"He must have heard me."
[Not possible Regan, too much delay . . . I guess I'm just that good!] Ham savored the moment.
With the background of fire and explosions swinging in an arc out of vision she could tell The STEIN was already on the move and over the apartment system music began to play, meaningless to the others, but it was for her she knew, and it made her laugh.
"You're simply the best . . . .
Better than all the rest . . ."
*
When a key card falls, a house of cards will crumble.
Bunkered down in the apartment they followed the unfolding events breathlessly. Things were playing out swiftly as news broke of the devastating Coran warship defeat. Beria's regime was falling quickly before their eyes, her support simply melting away. Her guard simply abandoned her and with the loss of five hund
red Coran troops in space it was hardly surprising. Even her few strongest supporters could see the writing on the wall and no one wanted to be caught on the wrong side of the people's anger.
Sindali stood off to one side as they watched the broadcasts; fielding constant calls from the guard and from representatives of the four other orbitals.
"They've summoned me to explain," she advised, concerned."They are demanding immediate explanation from both us and Cora. Regan, war is an anathema here and yet The STEIN has taken out two of the most powerful warships in the sector and effectively neutered the Coran space fleet. Over eight hundred lives have been lost. To say they are alarmed is an understatement. What am I going to tell them?"
[We have the visuals Regan. They show the Coran's taking each other out.]
Regan stood and walked over to Sindali. "Be confident Sin, speak as the leader now, and don't give any ground. You've done nothing wrong. Ham will supply you with visuals of the engagement and The STEIN's high definition images clearly show the Coran ships destroying each other. Ok, it will be disturbing, but it will exonerate Dahlia."
"It will also raise many questions as to the intentions and efficiency of the Coran Space Fleet. I'm not sure I can answer those." Sindali looked doubtful.
"Why bother?" Marin said. "Coran efficiency is their own concern, and as to their intentions, let the representatives sort that out, it's best we not speculate at all. The coup here is our own internal matter and as it’s proving bloodless it shouldn't be a concern of the other orbitals. Provided we keep the terms of supply contracts the other tribes should maintain their policy of leaving each orbital to manage its own affairs. Remind them of that."
"You're right Marin. Our tribal business is just that. Keep the food coming and we're happy seems to be the usual attitude. I can deal with this. We won't put up with any interference in our orbital affairs and of course, a little mystery might be good, it won't hurt to leave them just a little disturbed by our secret military power." Sindali stood confidently and made to leave.
"What military power?" Marin asked.
Ham sighed. [She means me bonehead, keep up will you!]
*
Regan stretched out on the bench, watching the curious watch them in the park, soaking up the freedom.
"So where is Beria going?" she asked Marin.
"Cora has offered her safe exile," he replied, "no one else wanted her. Sounds like a great match to me, and exile to the edge of the system, perfect." He showed no sign of regret.
"So when does she go - because as long as she's here I don't feel we're completely safe."
"She's already underway Regan, don't worry, Ham has her in transit as we speak." he looked quietly smug.
"I thought you were going to go with her."
"She thought that too," and he laughed. "In fact she thinks I am on the ship but she'll be in isolation all the way, it's only a few days after all and I didn't want to see her again." He was quite definite.
Marin didn't bother explaining that earlier he had escorted Beria to the ship.
Neither had spoken as he led her to a third level crew cabin. He left her there and then slipped away. She had assumed he would be piloting the vessel and he had done nothing to enlighten her.
Ham kept her in solitary for the entire trip and on arrival at the Coran military hub he issued strict instructions for the handover which the authorities complied with without question. Detaching the transport so The STEIN could settle on the flat surface of the orbital platform Ham then guided Beria by voice to level six, the large hangar deck. Exiting the elevator she staggered as she walked alone into the huge empty space and stood transfixed as Ham extended the deck out for her to exit. Peering through the small gap she could see steps extending down to the spaceport platform. Beria nervously looked around in vain for welcome. The platform was completely empty. Making her way down the steps, lost and confused with all defiance gone, she turned back to the ship.
"Merali? Where are you? Don't leave me like this."
It was the unfamiliar ship voice that answered, emotionless and cold.
"Go to the door at the end of the platform."
The steps retracted and level six withdrew back into the ship. Standing on the cold floor, only a field bubble between her and the coldness of space, Beria began her lonely walk across hundreds of meters to the appointed door.
"Helloo? Is anybody there?"
*
That most Dahlians had no interest in the drama unfolding in the system amazed Regan, that they welcomed news of Sindali accepting leadership didn't surprise her.
And by agreement Regan's origins were kept secret.
"After all Regan," Sindali had said "yes, you are squat and more muscular but otherwise you could easily pass as one of us. There are many different shapes and sizes on orbitals and most will assume you are from one of the industrials, or a mining tribe perhaps, it will be no problem."
Regan smiled, not knowing whether to be insulted or pleased. "Thank you Sin, I do want to look around, you've no idea how amazing this is to me. I'm seeing things that were only a dream before, a fantasy, yet here they are."
Sindali spoke quickly "We . . . no, I owe you a great debt Regan. First you save Marin, and then you risk your own life for me and my children, and finally you conceive a plan to deliver this orbital. You and your friend have our loyalty and support. We will never forget you."
"My friend . . . ?"
"Ham of course, the hero of the engagement." Her look was hard to read.
Regan recalled Ham's comments an age ago, Marin doesn't ask and I don't tell.
Sindali took Regan's arm. "I understand Ham is preparing to stock up Marin's ship . . . or is it your ship now? No matter. Some of the items requested are sensitive Regan. Your intentions for them are, shall we say, a matter of interest. What can you tell me that might allay my concerns?"
Regan sat beside her. She took Sindali's hands and faced her directly.
"Sin, this isn't something I've tried to hide." Earnestly she appealed to the young leader. "Your people have made breakthroughs that would be of huge benefit to Earth. I see what you have and I so want for my people to begin to explore space too. Truthfully, I'm not sure we're ready for the galaxy and what I know of the warp drive I have no intention of passing on. But there is technology that, with your permission, we can use to develop our own systems, to learn to live in space as you have, perhaps solve our problems of population growth and offer a future for many, but only with your permission of course. That's important to me."
Sindali closed her eyes as if seeking an answer.
"Regan, you know Beria would never have even let you go home, let alone allow you to take technology that could bring threats to our system. However, I can't look at you and feel anything but trust. We're not a military power, but you know there are those in the system who will not respond well to any abuse of such a gift. If I give you these things you, and you alone, will be responsible for the application of the knowledge. Use that gift carefully Regan. Share it wisely, profit from it if you can, but do not allow it to be turned against us, your world will pay a heavy price if it is. Things beyond my control will happen."
Regan wished she could feel more confident. "I feel that burden like a weight, because I know we don't always do the right thing. But this I know, in order to choose to do right, there needs to be the possibility of choosing wrong. I do trust Earth to grow. My hope is that as we grow in our own system, we will also learn to become good galactic neighbors and friends."
"It's done then." Sindali smiled. "You can gather whatever you need. Whatever is ours is yours and before you return, you have the freedom of the orbital, enjoy. Marin will show you our bounty. And Regan, provided Marin is happy, the ship is yours, he has the resources of our orbital and is well respected, his research will continue. Perhaps now it is even more important, no? And now I must leave you, my children need me." She smiled, bowed and departed, leaving Regan stunned and speechless.
>
[Hmm, that went well.]
[Then why do I feel a sense of dread Ham?]
[Perhaps it's because you know your people so well Regan, but when did you become a pessimist? The bad guys will always be there, we have them here. What's that Earth saying? All that it takes for evil men to prosper is for good men to do nothing.]
[I know . . . good one…]
[You have an opportunity here to do something great, just do it!] He gave her a moment to think.
[As for your list it'll take a while to fill, especially since we've been given such an open invitation. I intend adding to it and some things will have to come from elsewhere in the system. So use the time well, you need to recover, sorry babe but you do look awful. Take some time and use the freedom to explore. I think it's time to stop moping around. In fact I think it's time you climbed back on the Marin.]
She laughed out loud.
*
It was glorious. Every day they explored a different petal with thousands of hectares per farm, millions of workers in the fields working alongside amazing semi sentient machines, planting, harvesting, processing. She saw plant life that was different and yet at the same time familiar, parks with people walking and at play, children everywhere. Marin took her to schools and hospitals, markets and nightlife and she marveled at the subway, the mystery of cars travelling and parking without ever intersecting. The orbital was clean, ordered - and in time it became predictable.
Three weeks of exploring and she was recovering yes, but embarrassed to be feeling bored with being a tourist, a spectator. Marin could tell.
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