by Ian Whates
As life started to re-colonise his abused body and he got used to the idea that he wasn’t going to die after all, one thing troubled him more than any other.
“Raider,” he asked, “how much did you know about all this – about Mudball and the threat he represented?”
Mudball: his constant companion for more than half a decade, and Drake had to admit that he missed the little alien’s sardonic presence in his mind, for all that the little shit turned out to be a duplicitous power-seeking monstrosity.
“Considerably less than I would have liked to and not as much as I do now,” the ship’s entity responded, “but a little more than I felt able to confide.”
“Well I’m not going anywhere in a hurry, so now seems as good a time as any to change that.”
Perhaps the biggest shock to confront him as he recovered health and strength was the physical change to Saavi. He owed his life to the strange savant. If she hadn’t foreseen the need to take the Ion Raider to an unlikely far-flung corner of the galaxy, persuading the others to journey to a world so far towards the galactic rim that its star system’s only name was a designated sequence of letters and numbers, he would have died an anonymous death.
Saavi had always been a little odd, cocooned within her own perception of the universe and its workings, but somehow the aging process had run in reverse for her since the crew disbanded, and at an accelerated rate, until she now bore the physical form of a young girl. Her mind seemed as sharp and well-developed as ever, but her body…
“I have halted the regression,” Raider reported when Drake raised the matter, “but I can do nothing to reverse it.”
“What happens next?” Drake asked. “Will Saavi age normally from here on in, or will the process of getting younger start up again if she’s denied regular access to the cloud chamber?”
“Unknown. The cloud chamber environment was never intended for human use. The effects of exposure on your race’s physiology have proved unpredictable.”
No one was about to argue with that.
Saavi demonstrated her worth again when she guided them to Callia III, even if she remained frustratingly vague as to the reason.
“The potentials are shifting all the time,” she explained. “I’ve never seen it like this. Any sort of clear prediction is next to impossible. I can only do my best to steer us to key points that promise the most beneficial outcomes.”
“Callia III is where we left Mosi,” Jen noted.
“No prizes for guessing why we’re back here then,” Leesa said.
Nor was she wrong. Mosi, it turned out, was in trouble. Drake had recovered significantly by this point but not fully, so he and Saavi stayed aboard the Raider while the two women went to extricate Mosi, accompanied by Jai, Saavi’s deceptively innocent-looking T’kai engineered bodyguard, currently configured as a doll.
Drake quickly discovered that it wasn’t in his make-up to wait around while others did the dirty work. He hated having to sit this one out and resolved that it would be the last time he did so, irrespective of Raider’s medical advice.
He paced the ship’s compact ops room like a caged tiger, while Saavi darted between ops and the cloud chamber. She seemed unable to stay away from the place for a protracted period of time, causing Drake to wonder how she ever managed to sleep. It was like an addiction.
Finally Raider reported that the party was approaching the ship.
“Is he alive?” Saavi asked as they summoned up a visual.
The figure that slumped between Leesa and Jen looked to be anything but. Behind the group, Drake could make out the diminutive form of Jai, shadowing them as a good bodyguard should.
“I don’t see why they’d go to all the trouble of lugging him back here if he weren’t,” Drake said.
“I am detecting life signs,” Raider assured them. That was something, at least.
Drake had seen enough. “Saavi, get the gurney and meet us at the airlock,” he instructed as he hurried out of ops.
“Captain,” Raider said, “I would advise against strenuous physical activity given your condition.”
“Noted.”
He kept going, out the airlock and down the smoothly deployed ramp, hurrying to intercept the burdened women. He took Jen’s place, sliding in under Mosi’s arm and draping the limp limb across his shoulders. Jen looked just about spent – how far had they been forced to carry Mosi anyway? Jen was tough as wire and deadly as a snake, but lugging around what amounted to a grown man’s dead weight for any distance would have taxed anybody. Even Leesa with her auganic enhancements was showing the strain.
For his part, Drake immediately realised how unfit he’d become.
“Heavier than he looks, isn’t he,” he said.
“Yeah, and growing heavier with every step,” Leesa confirmed.
As they negotiated the short distance to the ship, Drake gained a better appreciation of the state Mosi was in. Small cuts, bruises, and dried blood covered his naked upper torso.
“What the hell have they been doing to him?” he said.
“Torture,” Leesa supplied in clipped voice, evidently saving her breath.
“I hope you got the bastards who did this.”
“Some of them. Probably not the right ones.”
Saavi waited at the bottom of the ramp with the gurney, which hovered just above the ground. They poured and pushed their unresisting burden into its embrace and Drake could draw proper breath again.
“For pity’s sake, Cloud,” Leesa said by way of greeting, “can’t you bring us to these places a little bit earlier? Mosi’s half dead, and if we’d been any later he’d be the other half as well. Are we meant to tear around the stars collecting a ship full of the comatose and wounded to go save the universe with? Is that the plan?”
“Lighten up. Lees,” Jen said.
Both women had to be exhausted, and it was obvious that Leesa was just letting off steam with Saavi the most convenient target.
Obvious to everyone except Saavi. “I give you as much notice as I can!” the girl/woman said. “The possible futures are so turbulent right now that it’s a miracle I’m able to pick a path at all. Just be grateful I can see anything.”
“Without Saavi we would never have found the captain or Mosi,” Jen said. “They’d both be dead by now.”
“I know, I know… Sorry, Saavi. Ignore me.”
The girl gave a brief nod, acknowledging the apology without necessarily accepting it.
“It’s just that… It would be nice if we could get there for once before all the bad shit happens, you know? To find an old crewmate who’s still fighting fit for a change rather than half dead.”
“I’m getting there,” Drake said.
He saw the corner of Jen’s mouth twitch at that.
“I know, Captain, sorry,” Leesa said. “I didn’t mean… Oh hell, I need a beer.”
With that, she stomped up the ramp to disappear into the ship’s interior, leaving the rest of them to tend to Mosi.
Leesa felt embarrassed by her outburst at Cloud, and did her best to stay out of the other woman’s way for the next couple of days – no mean feat bearing in mind the close confines of the ship. The amount of time Saavi spent closeted away in her precious cloud chamber helped in that regard.
They had lifted off from Callia III as soon as Mosi was on board and put the Raider into orbit around Callia V, a gas giant towards the edge of the system, while Saavi attempted to determine their next destination.
Leesa had been pleased to see the captain leave the ship to help them with Mosi. It showed how far his recovery had progressed. He was walking far more comfortably now and seemed almost back to his old self. Given the state he’d been in when they found him, she considered this a minor miracle. He still carried his cane, but she knew that to be far more than a mere walking stick. She wondered, too, whether it was an indication that he wasn’t yet ready to let go of the Drake persona.
/> That was fine by her; whatever it took. Maybe things were starting to look up after all.
When the Ion Raider had emerged from a gruelling series of jumps through RzSpace, it seemed their only reward was a barren world with little atmosphere circling an insipid sun that clung to the furthest rim of the galaxy. That had been a low point for all of them, their spirits already dampened by the long exposure to Rz. Even her faith in Cloud’s prescience had been tested.
Then they spotted a single life sign and suddenly all was good with the universe again. They knew this had to be the reason they were here. Despite that, they were almost too late.
Having landed the Ion Raider with reckless haste, Leesa leapt from the ship almost before it had settled, her auganic enhancements enabling her to work in the deficient atmosphere without an oxygen reserve for the short period of time necessary. While Jen was still donning her suit, Leesa dashed across to the fallen figure. It was obviously a man. She had no idea how he came to be here and knew there was a story to be told; all she had to do was ensure he survived long enough to tell it.
Only when she reached the fallen figure and picked him up did she realise who it was. The very man they’d been hunting.
Cornische was more dead than alive. Leesa was shaken to the core. Not so much by the captain’s condition, no, that she could deal with. She was horrified by how close they had been to not venturing here at all. It was a long trip and even longer odds that anything worthwhile would be waiting at the end of it. More than once during the course of the journey she had teetered on the verge of suggesting they abandon the quest and turn back. Only stubbornness had prevented her. At outset she had argued against Jen that they should trust Saavi’s instincts instead of continuing to Enduril II. When doubt set in, she refused to admit she’d been wrong and had determined to see things through. To her credit, Jen never once said ‘I told you so’, even when their spirits were at the lowest ebb.
Thank the Elders for stubbornness. If she had failed to side with Saavi in that initial argument, or been a little less resolute in the face of the will-sapping effects of Rz, the captain would have been lost to them without their even realising it.
One thing was for certain: she would never question Saavi’s predictions again; which made snapping at her like that all the more unforgiveable. There was only one thing for it. Leesa would have to apologise, something that had never been her strong suit.
Jen came into the ops room, joining her.
“How’s Mosi doing?” she asked.
“Raider?”
“Geminum’s injuries are extensive but superficial.” The response came in the rich, reassuring tones they knew so well.
The voice was female, something Leesa had asked Cornische about once upon a time. He’d shrugged, saying, “The computer was modified for audio coms when I bought the ship and that was the voice she came with. I’ve grown used to it, so kept the same one even after she became Raider.” Leesa had to admit that hearing Raider speak in any other tone would have seemed odd – the voice, neither young nor old, was reassuring, implying a level of wisdom that could be trusted. She guessed she’d grown used to it as well.
“There are no broken bones or significant internal injuries,” Raider continued, “but the cumulative effect of the pain inflicted on him is alarming. Whoever was responsible for his torture is an individual of sadistic competence but also measured restraint.
“For his own comfort, I have kept him sedated whilst accelerated healing proceeds. Going forward, that may no longer be necessary.”
“Thanks, Raider.” Jen smiled at Leesa. “Looks like we’re all getting there.”
Leesa couldn’t help but grin in response. “Okay, I know, I’ve been an ass.”
“Don’t worry, I’m getting used to that by now.”
“Don’t push it, farmer girl.”
Saavi chose that moment to burst into the room – she had a habit of doing that, dashing around like… well, a child, which only helped reinforce that impression, even though they knew her small frame held an adult intellect.
“I’ve found it,” she said breathlessly, “our next destination.”
She beamed at Leesa, who remembered that they were supposed to be making up. “Well done!” she said. Careful, don’t overdo it. The last thing she needed was for Saavi to think she was being patronising.
Leesa glanced across at Jen, who was still grinning. Maybe things really were looking up.
Then Saavi added, “The Enduril System.”
“What, again?”
Four
As they exited RzSpace the ship bucked and juddered violently around them. Drake was seated in one of the twin pilot chairs, otherwise he would have been sent sprawling by the unexpected upheaval.
“What the hell?” Leesa exclaimed. “Have we hit something?”
The old spacers’ dread, that their ship would come out of Rz into a volume of space already occupied by something else. In theory, that was impossible, but since when had that ever stood in the way of a good bar room horror story?
“Other way around.” Jen’s voice sounded tight, strained. “We’re under attack!”
“Raider?” Drake could have pored over instruments and read outs to get an idea of what was going on, but Raider could do so far more efficiently.
“We appear to have emerged from RzSpace in the midst of an ongoing skirmish,” the computer’s unflappable voice reported.
“No kidding,” Leesa muttered.
The ship bucked again, but this time under Jen’s direction as she took evasive manoeuvres.
“Hang onto something,” she advised, “I’m not holding back on the gs.”
Drake felt himself pressed back into the chair’s upholstery. “Can we go back into Rz?” he said.
“Regrettably not at present,” Raider replied. “The ship has sustained some damage.”
“Crap!” Leesa exclaimed. “It would have to be the engines. It’s always the engines. I’m on it. Jen, ease up for just a moment, would you?”
She didn’t wait for a reply, sprinting out of ops and presumably taking Jen’s compliance for granted.
“Do we have any idea who’s shooting at who?”
“Just checking that out…” Jen replied. “Shit!”
“What?”
“One of them – the one doing the shooting – is showing as Darkness Mourning.”
“The Night Hammer ship?” Drake stared at her. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Her clipped tone brooked no further query.
Things just kept getting better. Darkness Mourning was infamous. The ship had a string of atrocities attributed to it. As for the Night Hammers, they were an outlawed military group with a reputation for being both formidable and ruthless. They were also supposed to be defunct, their last remaining ships destroyed.
“Who are they shooting at?”
“No idea. I can’t even see another ship.”
“Raider?”
“There is something there…” the computer sounded oddly hesitant. “Very effectively camouflaged, and elusive.”
“The Night Hammers must have some shit-hot tech to even suspect the presence of another ship,” Jen said. “I know they’re out there, and I’m still struggling to get a handle on their position. Just a rough idea based on minutely delayed info rather than anything else – it’s a step up from guesswork but not by much. Without the foreknowledge to look for something, I’d never spot them.”
“Unless the other vessel did something to give itself away before we arrived,” Drake suggested.
“Maybe.” Jen didn’t sound convinced. “Whoa… Whoever this is, they’re boxing clever. There are now a score of ‘ghost’ readings, all of them as difficult to spot as the next. They’re dispersing quickly and randomly. As decoys go, these are as good as any I’ve ever seen.”
“Are the Night Hammers showing any interest in us at all?”
“Not that you�
�d notice. They’re concentrating on the other ship. I think we just got in the way.”
That was something, at least. It would almost certainly change though, once Darkness Mourning had nailed its primary target. With the Rz drive out, they were a sitting duck, and in time honoured tradition the Night Hammers wouldn’t want to leave any witnesses behind.
“We’re pretty close to one of the smaller moons,” Jen continued. “Enduril’s a greedy gas giant, she lays claim to sixty-five of them in all. I’m aiming to put this one between us and the shooting,”
That made sense, but it was no more than a temporary respite. The Night Hammers weren’t likely to forget about them.
“Raider, what colours are we flying?”
“We’re still showing as the Blue Angel,” Raider replied, naming the false hull ident they’d adopted in order to slip into the Callia system unnoticed.
“So as far as the Night Hammers are concerned, we’re just a standard Comet class trader that’s blundered into the wrong part of space at the wrong time.”
“That would seem likely, yes.”
“Okay, let’s make that work for us.” He turned to Jen. “Tell me when we’re about to slip behind that moon.”
“Will do.”
“The Rz drive is well and truly fried,” Leesa said, her voice relayed by Raider. “I can’t make repairs or even jury-rig anything with what we’ve got on board. I’m coming back up to ops.”
Drake acknowledged her report but his attention was focussed elsewhere.
“How long, Jen?”
“Nearly there. Two minutes, for whatever difference it’s likely to make.”
They both knew that if Leesa couldn’t repair the engines, hiding only delayed the inevitable. Despite the gs Jen had poured on to get them away from the action, they were still no real distance from the Night Hammer ship.