by Tim Marquitz
That didn’t stop them from rushing him off, though, the two clasping the edge at either end and directing the gurney.
But as soon as they started down the hallway, an alarm erupted, bathing the corridor in red and bringing everyone to a sudden halt.
“What’s that?” Cabe shouted, trying to be heard over the blaring of the alarm. “All these alarms sound so different. I have no idea what any of them mean.”
Neither did Taj, but she knew it couldn’t be anything good.
“Proximity alert,” S’thlor answered, his head tilted to the side, listening.
Jadie’s voice came across the comm. “Incoming ships, starboard side,” she informed them. “Three of them, flying tight and sharp. They look similar in make to the ones you blasted earlier, no identifying markers, and they’re coming in fast. I suggest we hustle on a bit.”
“Pirates,” Taj spit out, snarling. She spun around and shoved Cabe down the hall ahead of her. “Get to the bridge and get us out of here!”
Cabe bolted, tail trailing behind him, stuck straight out. Lina sealed the umbilical and retracted it as quickly as she could, the machinery offering up a quiet buzz. Taj glared at the flashing red lights, urging both the engineer and Cabe on with urgent thoughts.
For a moment, she regretted stopping to help the strange alien, but she shook that thought away, knowing it was the right thing to do. Beaux and Mama would have agreed with her, she was certain. She had to trust that Cabe would get them moving quickly enough to get away from the pirates before they engaged.
The last ship’s distress call had clearly gotten through.
Her thoughts spinning, she ran her hands through her long fur, feeling bits of ice and moisture from her jaunt on the alien craft. She shook it off with a grunt.
“Time to shoot the pirates,” she muttered to herself, chasing off after Cabe and the others, leaving Lina to corral S’thlor and get him back to the bridge safely.
Chapter Nine
The Discordant shrieked through space.
The three pirate ships followed, slowly losing ground, the leech craft managing to increase the distance between them despite its heavy load.
Right then, she was glad Vort had convinced her to take the leech craft, though she’d never admit that out loud. Had they been in the Paradigm, they would have had zero chance at outpacing the pirates on their tail.
Taj sat on the bridge, watching the enemy ships in the view screen, teeth bared, hands clenched into painful fists, claws digging into her palms. She didn’t want to run, but she knew she had to.
They’d caught the other two pirates off guard. The fight with these new ones wouldn’t be anywhere near as easy, and she couldn’t risk it.
“Can we go any faster?” she asked.
Cabe shook his head. “Probably pushing too hard as it is,” he told her. “This ship is fast, but we’re way overloaded with bodies. Engines are running a twitch below red, and it won’t take much to throw it over. We’re gonna need to find some way to slip the pirates before we burn something out and we end up floating lifeless in space.”
Lina chuckled. “It’s like we’ve traded up for the new Thorn, exchanging one beater for another.”
“You’re hurting my feelings,” Cabe muttered, though Taj noticed him hiding a crooked smirk. “The Thorn went out on her shield like the good ship she was.”
“Leave his baby alone, Lina,” Taj told her. “It’s bad enough that we had to wreck the windrider, you don’t have to rub it in.”
“We?” Cabe replied, shaking his head. “I don’t remember any we in the decision.”
Taj grinned. “I was simply sharing the success of our efforts.”
“Sharing the blame, more like,” Torbon said, joining the conversation.
“I’m generous like that.” Taj joined Lina, a throaty chuckle rumbling loose from both of them.
Their amusement didn’t last long, however.
A tinny beep sounded from Lina’s console.
“What is that?” Taj asked her.
“I’m not entirely sure,” the engineer answered, returning her focus to her station. She and S’thlor carried on a quick conversation, Lina’s fingers flying over the console in a blur as they chatted back and forth. A moment later, her expression smoothed and her grin returned.
“Looks like there’s a planet ahead,” she said, then turned to S’thlor, explaining the technical imagery on the screen. “Am I right thinking all this gibberish scrolling across the screen means it’s inhabited?”
S’thlor nodded. “It most certainly is. The planet is known to my people. Kulora is its name. It’s a tourist world, a kind of crossroads in this sector. A gateway between galaxies.” The alien sat back in his seat, rubbing his chin. “It means, however, that we are drawing closer to Wyyvan space. I recognize where we are now.”
“Great,” Torbon muttered. “So, we’ve got pirates on our six and angry lizards waiting ahead.”
“That’s most likely true,” S’thlor replied, “but Kulora is a very diverse planet, which doesn’t observe any Wyyvan influence. The Wyyvans we’d find there will be the royal caste or business people, the wealthy elite. You’re not going to find any of us grunts around them because we can’t afford the amenities.”
“Which means we’ll stand out nicely in our liberated Wyyvan ship,” Taj said, amused once more by their awful luck.
S’thlor shrugged. “Maybe, maybe not,” he replied. “The types of Wyyvan who visit this world aren’t overly concerned with the mundane, day-to-day aspects of the military. Yeah, they might wonder in passing why a leech ship is docked there, especially without its fleet complement in orbit above the planet, but things like that are generally below their notice. As long as Wyyvan soldiers aren’t knocking on their doors, looking to arrest them, it’s likely a non-issue.”
“Likely?” Cabe asked. “Likely is not the same thing as definitely.”
S’thlor grunted his disagreement, opening his mouth to argue, but Taj didn’t let the two get into it. “It doesn’t matter,” she told them, no time to listen to them go back and forth about what the Wyyvan elite may or may not notice. “We’re not stopping on the planet anyway. It’s too much of a risk. With the pirates on our tail, we can’t afford to give them a chance to catch up and—”
“I beg you to change your mind,” an unfamiliar voice said right after the hiss of the bridge door opening sounded.
Taj snapped her head about, eyes narrowing at seeing the strange, purplish-blue alien staring at her from the doorway. Kal stood beside him, pistol in his hand, towering over the alien. Gran Verren was there, as well, also looking rather large in comparison.
“Sorry, Taj,” Kal said. “He insisted on seeing you, said it was urgent.”
“Your skills as a guard are questionable,” Torbon told Kal, shaking his head. “Every time a prisoner wants to be escorted to the bridge, you oblige them, which is kind of the opposite of how it should work.
“‘Yes, murderous alien creature, I’d be happy to take you to the most sensitive part of the Discordant where you can slaughter the entire crew and fly the ship into the nearest quasar, laughing maniacally the entire way.’”
“He’s not entirely wrong, Kal,” Cabe agreed, “even if he is being a bit dramatic about it.”
“I assure you, I intend you no harm,” the alien said, spreading his arms and offering up a shallow bow, arms spread wide.
“That’s what all the bad guys say right before they reveal their master plan and unleash chaos on the unsuspecting innocents who foolishly believed them.” Torbon jabbed a claw in the alien’s direction. “We’re onto you, buddy. That’s like Evil 101. Next up is the super-threatening monologue, then the world ends.”
Taj drew in a deep breath and let it out slow, her gaze shifting back and forth between her crew, the alien, and Gran Verren. At last, she settled in on the Gran.
“Is he even healthy enough to be up and about?” she asked, pointing at the newcomer. “He was
pretty much dead an hour ago.”
“Yes,” she answered, “and, well, no. Not exactly.”
“Uh, there’s a whole lot of words in that sentence that don’t equal anything resembling reassurance,” Cabe told her.
Gran Verren chuckled. “Well, he is not exactly a he, at least not beyond external appearances.”
The alien straightened to its full height and turned to face the Gran. “I am most assuredly a he, as that is the identification I was assigned by my masters. They would not lie about that.”
“Assigned?” Taj rubbed her temples, wondering what the gack the two were talking about. “Masters?”
“Yes, assigned by my masters,” the alien replied. “It is who I am.”
“I know that sometimes…okay, a lot of the time, I’m the last to understand what’s going on, but am I the only one who’s confused right now? It can’t only be me, right?” Torbon questioned.
“No, it’s not just you this time,” Cabe answered. “I’m a bit lost myself.”
Taj raised her hand. “Yeah, me too.”
“What he means is,” Gran Verren clarified, “he is a he because that’s what gender he was assigned, what he was programmed to identify as.”
“Programmed?” Torbon asked, clearly still confused.
“Wait! You’re saying he’s not…an alien?” Taj asked, finally making some sense of the conversation they were having.
Gran Verren shrugged. “Well, he was built by aliens, so technically he still kind of is, but again, not exactly.”
“You’re an android,” Lina blurted out, apparently catching on. There was no hiding the mouse-eating grin on her face at her deduction.
“I prefer the term mechanoid, but yes, I am a synthetic being, an artificial intelligence core housed inside this—” He motioned to his body, the slightest of sneers creeping upon his narrow lips. “—unfortunate shell.” He nodded to Gran Verren. “But thanks to your assistance, I was able to reboot my systems…mostly.”
“Why unfortunate?” Lina asked, leaving her station and coming over for a closer look. She circled him, examining every inch of his body, getting caught up in the moment.
“Mistakes were made. Many, many mistakes, I’m afraid,” he answered with a sigh. His head twitched right then, a spasmodic burst of motion that ended almost as quickly as it began. When his voice kicked back in, there was a rawness to it, a digital undertone of frustration that faded a few words in, becoming smooth again. “My creators, the Dandrinites, built me in their image originally. Tall and lithe, graceful yet strong and powerful, I was the finest example of their species in form, absolute perfection if I might show my bias.”
“And then?” Torbon pressed, an eyebrow raised, clearly sensing more to the story seeing as how everyone could see the android was neither tall and lithe, nor graceful. The book was still out on whether he was strong or powerful. The only certainty was that he was very purple, Taj noted.
“And then my people were subjugated by a cruel, malevolent sub-species of meflu droppings, the Grung.” Another twitch set the mechanoid to trembling, one leg tapping the floor a bunch of times before settling.
S’thlor grunted. “I’ve heard of them.” His voice dripped of disgust, as if the Wyyvan disliked even the taste of the species’ name. “They’ve raided a few of my people’s holdings across the borders of our galaxy. Brutal little reprobates, if you ask me. Left nothing but wreckage and corpses in their wake. They’re not anywhere near as sophisticated or dangerous as the Federation, but what they lack in function, they make up for in abject cruelty.”
“So, what happened to you?” Lina asked the android. “Why weren’t you destroyed as well?”
“Before my masters were completely overcome, they uploaded the whole of their knowledge, the very core of their existence, everything that made them who they were, into my mind.” He reached up and tapped the side of his head, which set off another spasm, which took a moment to pass.
“Looks like they fried a few circuits doing it.” Torbon chuckled.
The mechanoid nodded, but the motion looked more like he was thrashing his head to the sound of music no one else could hear. It took a few seconds before he settled and regained control of his movements, but one eye started blinking to a similarly fast-paced rhythm and didn’t slow for several moments.
“Indeed,” he answered, his voice once more trilling oddly. “My cranial server was filled to capacity, but it maintained its structural integrity well enough.”
“You sure about that?” Cabe asked.
“It was sufficient… for a time, until my masters realized there was no chance the invading Grung would allow me to leave the planet unharmed in my Dandrinite form.” The mechanoid shrugged and stood there, stiffening and doing nothing.
Several long and quiet moments later, Taj urged him to continue. “And?”
The mechanoid started, as if he’d been woken out of a deep sleep. “Oh, yes. So, in their infinite wisdom…”
Taj bit back a laugh, wondering how wise the android’s people could be if they send this derelict wretch off into the world with the whole of their knowledge stashed in his busted skull. It was like trusting Torbon with the secrets of the universe. Or with cookies.
“…transferred my AI core into this form, a simulated Sperit, a race which happens to be a loose ally of the Grung. They provide the beasts with weapons and technology and the means to continue their rampages in exchange for peace, the Grung vowing to leave their people and settlements alone.”
A smile brightened the mechanoid’s face.
“My masters provided me with a cover story opportunity, imprisoning me before they fell to the Grung’s cruelty, allowing me to play the role of a captured Sperit scientist. The Grung, hardly the intellectual giants of the universe…”
Taj swallowed her laugh, hiding it behind a quick wave for the android to go on.
“…believed the tale I told them and had me shipped to Speritu, the Sperit home world, believing they were appeasing their friends, hoping for a reward, of course.”
“And they didn’t notice your…uh, differences?”
A twitch preceded the answer. “I wasn’t yet so…poodle.”
Taj blinked, her mind struggling to process what he’d said. She glanced at the rest of the crew, and each returned a similar confused expression.
“Poodle?”
“Fragmented, yes, exactly that,” the mechanoid answered. “This Sperit form was crafted quickly, using substandard parts my masters had on hand, easily accessed, but it remained completely convincing until a short time after I arrived upon Speritu.
“By then, I had blended into their society and had become one of them, so they overlooked my more obvious flaws. Which was fortunate, as I needed their assistance to complete the mission laid out by my masters.”
“And that mission is?” Taj asked.
“To carry the genetic material and complete history and wisdom of the Dandrinites to a suitable planet and plant the seed where they might start anew.” The mechanoid straightened, his chest jutting out in what was an obvious show of pride. “It is my duty to shepherd their return.”
“So, let me get this straight. An entire race of beings is depending on your success to be reborn?” Torbon asked.
“Pomegranate,” the mechanoid answered, nodding.
“Well, good luck with whatever that is,” Torbon told him, barely managing to hold back his laughter, his hand cupped over his mouth.
“Thank you,” the android replied, smiling. One side of his lips wiggled like a hooked worm, clearly oblivious to having misspoken.
“Ooookay then,” Cabe said, letting out an amused whew.
Rather than ask about the random word insertions, clearly an artifact of the rushed effort to transfer the mechanoid’s brain to the new body or the damage ensued afterward, Taj waved Torbon to be quiet and gave Cabe a dirty look to keep him from egging Torbon on. There was an opportunity here, and Taj didn’t want the crew’s teasin
g to ruin it.
She had no idea if the android had legitimate emotions or feelings, and she didn’t want to upset it if it did.
“You originally suggested we should visit Kulora instead of avoiding it,” she said, circling back around to the topic of conversation they were having when the android first interrupted them. “Why is that? What’s there?”
The mechanoid spun in a tight circle. “That is where I was headed when the Sperit science ship was intercepted by the Terants.”
“The who?” Lina asked.
“The Terants, or the pirates as you referred to them when I arrived on your bridge,” the mechanoid answered. “They learned of my…cargo somehow and tracked me to Speritu, forcing me to abandon my secretive life there and set off on my mission earlier than my masters had intended.”
“So, the pirates on our six are there because of you?” Cabe asked.
“They were,” the android replied, a lopsided grin appearing on his twitching lips, which looked like worms crawling across his face. “I suspect your destroying two of their vessels might have impacted their reasoning somewhat. Now, I believe they have two goals in mind: to capture me and to murder you.”
The whole crew groaned, including Kal, Jadie, and Gran Verren. “Thanks, Taj,” they all muttered in unison.
Taj went over and flopped into her seat, shaking her head at the unified mutiny. She spun the chair about so she faced the mechanoid again. Her whiskers eased back against her cheeks, and she blew out a huffed breath.
“You still haven’t answered my question, though. Why should we go to Kulora?” Taj cleared her throat. “No offense, but with pirates chasing us down, whoever’s fault it is,” she emphasized, “it makes more sense to avoid the planet altogether and lose them in space. The first place they’ll check is Kulora, given its proximity to our current location.”
“Indeed they will. They would be stupid not to,” the mechanoid answered, a broad grin appearing. “However, I am not without my resources to make it worth your while.” He tapped the side of his head again, setting it to wobbling a bit. “My masters, reasoning I might face diversity in my journey, gave me access codes to all the Dandrinite reserves, which means I have near-limitless finances to bring to bear in my pursuit of reawakening the Dandrinite people.”