by Mark Wandrey
“Did either the Human or the Zuul trooper mention what had happened to them, or where they were going?”
“They did.”
“Would you be able to share that information?”
“I might.”
“Did they enjoy their conversation with you as much as I am?”
“They mostly stared at that.” She flicked her tail toward the Raknar again.
Shadow chuffed a laugh, his ears twitching. “The Pushtal aren’t very good at keeping it a secret.”
“They didn’t try to hide it from those Zuul and Humans. Neither was much of a threat at the time.”
That sobered him right up. “You know where they went…” A pause for her slight noise of agreement. “I’d like you to come talk to the colonel, please.”
* * *
Alan was talking with A’kef after they’d gotten as much info as they could from Akohn. The story checked regarding the Pushtal obtaining a basically junked CASPer, as well as where Starbright had come from. They’d even managed to get him to admit the Zuul ship, Gheshu, had come through at almost the same time. Akohn had wondered if the Zuul ship was chasing the Human ship.
“But then they transitioned together,” Akohn admitted. “Through the stargate without issues.”
“Just timing, I guess,” A’kef said to Alan.
“The Zuul and Humans haven’t been as bitter of rivals as, say, we have been with the MinSha, or even the Besquith,” Alan said. “We’ve fought, yes; however, it’s been amiable.”
“I would agree,” Akohn said. “We respect your ability, despite your needing the suits to stand on even ground.”
“We didn’t evolve with sharp teeth and stronger bones,” Alan said with a shrug. Then he chuckled. “Flatar have Tortantula, we have CASPers.”
“From what I’ve learned, it’s the other way around with the Flatar/Tortantula. That is neither here nor there, though. We still do not know for certain the destination of our people.”
“Father, I mean Colonel?” Shadow asked, floating over. A’kef gave a little growl of displeasure at the break in military decorum.
“Yes, Private?” Alan asked.
“I think there’s someone you should talk to.”
Shadow had an elSha in tow, and the reptilian looked at all the armed Humans and Zuul with obvious trepidation. The fact there were hundreds of Pushtal also nearby didn’t help. It would seem the loathing of cats and dogs was something every race understood.
The elSha was nervously plucking at a strange component as it arrested its momentum against a random piece of junk. Alan had always considered the race a bit of an enigma. They weren’t a merc race, far from it. The elSha seemed to loathe violence, but because of their incredible and innate technical acumen, they were nearly ubiquitous around merc units. Mercs used vast amounts of technology, after all. He’d even seen an elSha in a Winged Hussars marine boarding team once. Every race seemed to have their outliers.
“What do you have?” he asked the two.
“Tell him,” Shadow prompted.
“I…I don’t want to get in trouble,” she said. Once the alien spoke, Alan’s translator tagged the speaker as a female.
“You won’t, I promise.” Alan glanced over at Akohn, who had taken an interest in what was happening. It was true, he didn’t want to get the elSha in trouble, and he’d bet working for the unstable felines was probably like living as a remora on the side of a shark—never sure when you’d go from helper to lunch.
He reached into an equipment pouch on his armor and removed an emergency oxygen cell, holding it out to the elSha as if he wanted help with it. “Just play along,” he said, sotto voce.
The elSha squinted as her own translator rendered the English into her own native language. “Play act,” she said, nodding and took the device. Using a set of micro tools, she opened it and let a few of the parts float nearby in the convenient zero gravity. “Your Zuul trooper said you were following your missing ship, Brightstar?”
“Starbright,” Alan corrected. “It’s an Enterprise-class Human merc cruiser.”
“Yes, I’m familiar,” she replied. “They were a ham-fisted attempt to copy the Izlian Kusha-class. Izlian designs don’t scale down well.”
“We bloody well know that now,” Alan grumbled. Only a year after Silent Night had taken delivery of Starbright, the company that had produced a total of nine of the ships had gone out of business. Cartwright’s Cavaliers had gone to the Winged Hussars and commissioned the Izlian, who designed the Akaga-class as its replacement. All well and good for a Horseman to replace a cruiser after only 10 years of service. He’d only paid off Starbright nine years ago, after 41 years of payments.
“Anyway,” the elSha continued, “I know it was an Enterprise-class, because I worked on a couple before. Did some refit work on one a while back.” She shook her head. “You Humans will cram together whatever tech you think will get the job done.”
“We’re a merc race,” he reminded her, though Humans did their fair share of design work. The CASPers were a good example of the hairless monkeys’ engineering prowess.
The elSha shrugged. “True, nobody expects your cleverness to extend much beyond killing.”
Bit of a bloody mongrel, isn’t she? Alan thought. “Did you have anything helpful to tell us?”
“Yes, if you can offer me something in return.”
Ah, here we go then. “With a missing ship, we’re not exactly flush with credits.”
“I’ll take a job,” she said, snapping the breather closed and handing it back. “Frankly, the Pushtal scare the crap out of me.”
“Sure,” Alan said, “standard merc guild technician rate, third class?”
“First class,” she countered.
“We seem to have agreed on second class, then?” A nod in reply. “Done. What’s your name?”
“Freena.”
“Okay, Freena, proceed with your story.”
“The Enterprise-class ship had damage to its shields. They came here trading for parts. The Pushtal had an old Opu-class shield generator. The Opu is a battlecruiser, but since the Enterprise was copied from the Kusha, which is a battlecruiser instead of a cruiser like the Enterprise, it would work. I arranged the trade. The Pushtal were happy because they got one of your powered armor suits. Since the Pushtal are paying me as a fourth class tech, I decided not to tell them the Humans had stripped the suit beforehand.”
Alan chuckled; he liked the cheeky bugger.
“I helped them move the shield generator over and spoke to their chief engineer.”
“What was his name?” Alan asked.
“Adams, I believe. Oh, and the Human was a female.”
“Adamson, but close enough,” Alan said.
“Well, in the course of helping the female integrate systems with the new shield generator, she mentioned their travails in getting home. They’d been trying for months, but because of the Mercenary Guild’s war against your race, they’d encountered several attempts to detain them. None succeeded, but damage to the ship was still an issue. They planned to cut through a seldom used route in order to reach your planet. The system of P’k’k.”
Alan finished up with Freena, including sending a message to the paymaster back aboard Paku. They didn’t have the money, but Freena wouldn’t have to be paid for a month. He gave the elSha instruction on boarding and turned to find A’kef. He didn’t have to search, the Zuul commander had floated over as soon as Freena departed. Akohn was still watching suspiciously, so Alan kept his voice down.
“Did you find out where your ship went?” the alien commander asked.
“The P’k’k system,” he told A’kef.
“That is a risky move,” A’kef said, his ears back. “The stargate there is unreliable. We got stuck once for almost a month while repairs were made. However, it still parallels with Gheshu’s last known whereabouts. I believe we should proceed to P’k’k.”
“We’ve come this far,” Alan said. “I
concur, Commander.” The pups had floated over, having completed their searches and seeing their father talking with A’kef. He smiled at them. “Shadow found us a clue; we’re on Starbright’s tail.” All five of them howled in joy.
* * *
“There was a Raknar.” Drake said each word with precise deliberation. “On that excuse for a station. A Raknar. The Pushtal have a Raknar.” He took in a deep breath. “That you saw. And you didn’t tell us?”
Shadow twisted his ears back, but Sonya didn’t believe his attempt at apology. “It didn’t work, anyway.”
“According to the elSha.” Drake rolled his eyes and curled his lip back, frustration rolling off him in waves. “We’re just going to leave a Raknar behind us.”
“The Raknar isn’t the mission,” Ripley interjected, though she looked a little wistful as well. “Starbright is the mission.”
“We got a technician out of the deal,” Sonya added, knowing she was as transparent in her eagerness as Drake was in his annoyance. She couldn’t help but look forward to learning from an elSha. While she knew not every elSha was a mechanical genius in the same way every Human wasn’t a top-notch merc, it would still be nice to see one in action.
“A technician who couldn’t get the Raknar working.” Drake dropped his snarl, but he kept his unblinking gaze on Shadow, who still refused to look at him.
“Centuries upon centuries of people trying, and the number of usable Raknar is still pretty damn low.” Sonya was less defending the elSha she’d barely met before they reloaded the transport and more arguing to bleed off extra energy. Everything about the Pushtal and their station had grated, she hadn’t gotten to punch anyone, and now they were flying back to the Paku. They had the Starbright’s trail, which was excellent, but A’kef seemed uncomfortable with what they’d learned.
All in all, it had left her a simmering mess of emotions that Sonya couldn’t begin to unpack. She needed to vent the excess somehow.
“A technician smart enough to string the Pushtal along long enough for a better job to show itself.” Rex, head tilted back against his seat, kept his eyes closed.
Sonya couldn’t tell if he meant it as a word in favor of the elSha or not and shrugged in something that could have passed for agreement.
“Too bad we couldn’t grab the Raknar and drag it with us.” Jack leaned around a larger, quieter merc to interject into the siblings’ conversation. “We could be the first company with Zuul in CASPers and the first Human-Zuul Raknar team.”
Sonya snorted at the chorus of “Shut up, Jack” that answered the Human, but the round of ribbing that followed gave her the distraction she was looking for.
* * *
Paku coasted toward the stargate, now only a light second away. Alan drifted into the bridge ahead of schedule. He’d wanted to be there when they made transition so he could talk with A’kef again about contingencies. The deeper they got down this rabbit hole, the more could go wrong. A’kef’s thoughts must have echoed his own as the mercenary asked him to arrive an hour early.
“What’s up?” he asked as he arrested his momentum next to the alien.
“The stargate is not responding,” A’kef said.
Alan had now spent enough time amongst the non-Human-raised Zuul to read some body language. His ears were held slightly back, and he licked his lips several times. The other commander’s eyes were also narrowed, as if the bridge were far brighter than it was. They were both annoyed and concerned.
“This is abnormal.” I’kik was strapped into her command seat near the center of the bridge. Unlike Human vessel arrangements, the Zuul preferred to be a little further to the rear, where their wider peripheral vision could take in the majority of the work stations. Paku also appeared to be designed for operation with a much smaller crew than Starbright. Of course, Paku had been built from the keel up as a mercenary cruiser, while Starbright was a cobbled together compromise from a Kusha-class battlecruiser.
Alan hadn’t adjusted well to the hallways and chambers of Paku, because they were designed for Zuul. The canine-like aliens were equally comfortable moving on both the horizontal and vertical, and adapted much easier to a nose-forward posture when moving around in zero G. They also didn’t suffer as much degradation from extended time away from a gravity well. Thus, all but the main corridors were small, and felt cramped to him. Even so, the ship was beautifully designed. They’d incorporated small wooden scroll-worked pieces, and trims of stone and shell from their native planet. Paku looked more like a home than a warship.
“Any idea if the gatemaster is a Sumatozou?” he asked.
“Hard to say,” I’kik replied. “Cartography Guild politics are more complicated than some would tell. A Sumatozou is what you’ll most often find, yes. However, despite the airs they put on, they do not control the guild. The evidence of this in where Sumatozou are often assigned. Some of the best, but many of the worst stargates.”
“What do you mean the worst?” Alan asked.
I’kik gave the Zuul equivalent of a wry smile. “Not many realize the gatemasters are paid in a percentage of gate fees. If you are put in charge of a backwater stargate, or in a dead system…”
“Ouch,” Alan said, remembering their visit to the Pushtal station. “So this character must be a real loser.”
I’kik nodded in agreement. “Comms, let’s try again?” She waited a second until the comms officer indicated a channel was open. “Klbood stargate, this is ZMS Paku requesting transition schedule, please respond.”
There was nothing, so she repeated it a third time, again receiving only silence.
“Maybe their comms are out?” Alan wondered.
“No, they have an active radio,” someone replied. “Our computer handshakes and data sharing were successful upon arrival. Their computer is talking now, just not the staff.”
“I really don’t want to send a shuttle and trooper over,” Captain I’kik said. “Too much paperwork.”
Alan wondered if the channel was still open and looked around. Everyone was waiting expectantly, which suggested it was.
“There is no need to send anyone over,” the grumbling voice of a Sumatozou replied. Like someone dragging a burlap sack full of rocks down stairs, the elephantine aliens were among the most physically massive merc races in the galaxy. You almost never found them fighting, though. While formidable in combat and hard to kill, they just didn’t handle surprises well. What was a battle except boredom followed by surprises?
“Gatemaster, why haven’t you responded?” I’kik asked.
“I was busy.”
“Oh, surely you must have nonstop work in such a star system as Klbood!” She managed to combine a sincere and sarcastic tone at once.
“You mock me?” the gatemaster replied.
“Never,” I’kik said, deadpan. “True, there hasn’t been another ship to enter or leave since we arrived, but I’m certain the duties of one such as yourself contain immeasurable responsibilities a mere starship captain could never comprehend.” Her ears twitched rapidly, and A’kef dropped his jaw in a silent laugh, but the comms had no video, so the gatemaster remained unaware.
“Indeed,” the gatemaster replied. “Where are you heading?”
“My flight plan has been entered already.”
“P’k’k? There is nothing there. Why do you wish to go there?”
“That is our business,” she replied. “Yours is opening the gate. When is the next scheduled transition?”
“There is no schedule,” the distant alien admitted. “I operate on demand, as long as it has been more than two days since the last time.”
“When was the last time you operated?”
“It has been 19 days,” the gatemaster admitted glumly.
Alan grinned and shook his head. Clearly Captain I’kik had a knack for dealing with the Sumatozou.
“Please open for us at the time my navigator will set,” Captain I’kik said.
“As you request,” the gatemaster repl
ied peevishly. “Standard gate fee will be billed to your account.”
“Naturally.”
“I advise you against this, though.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I’kik said. “Is there an issue with your stargate?”
“Of course not, it is in perfect condition. I merely caution you, as P’k’k is a backwater star system, and traveling there may be dangerous.”
“Duly noted. Paku, out.” She turned to A’kef and Alan, a puzzled look on her long, canine-like face. “That…was strange.” Neither Alan nor A’kef had anything to add. Paku transitioned to hyperspace right on schedule.
* * * * *
Part II
Chapter 1
ZMS Paku, Hyperspace—32 Hours Before Emergence
“You are good at this,” Veska said, looking up at Rex without lifting her head.
Something about the angle of her muzzle, the gentle curve of her eyelashes, or the inflection of her voice in native Zuul made Rex’s heart do a single backflip. More than enough for him to miss the next movement in the 3D simulated space-game he’d been playing, sending his craft into an asteroid with a puff of animated demise.
“No fair, you distracted me!” he roared in mock outrage.
“Oh?” she said, not-so-accidentally brushing her tail across his face. “How did I do that?”
“Uhm…” he said, completely forgetting what he was about to say. Her smell flooded his nasal cavities, forcing him to take a deeper breath. What’s happening to me? he wondered. None of his sisters had ever smelled this good.
“Oh, you like how I smell?” She moved closer, though she kept her eyes on the game in front of them.
Rex stammered and faltered for a response. The small rec room was empty other than them, and suddenly awareness of Veska filled the entirety of the space. She leaned closer and lifted her chin so he could access her neck. “Well?”