by Petra Landon
“Are you saying the Guild Coalition offered you the contract, Captain?” Vedino was incredulous.
Right, like the Guild would ever have anything to do with Ryfkin Soren.
The Captain shook his head. “No, not the Guild. Someone else, an independent entity. But the details provided suggest to us that it is the Coalition that’s interested in you.”
“What details?” the man on the console asked baldly.
“It was alleged that you’re a Synth raising an army and that you escaped from Kuzhampa Prison.” Soren was confident that Vedino would understand why the details had aroused his suspicions about Guild interference. It was common knowledge that the persecution of Synths was an effort led by the powerful Guild Coalition. And the prison was operated by the Coalition.
“That does seem to infer Guild interest, Captain” Vedino remarked thoughtfully. “But your information is not all correct.”
“You’re not Synth?” Soren suggested.
Vedino paused. “I cavil at the term Synthetic because nothing about me is artificial, Captain Soren. I’m as much an InnerWorlder as those pompous greedy bastards that run Guild Coalition. But per their definition, I am a Synth. No, Captain, that’s not it. But I have never been to Kuzhampa.”
At the Captain went silent, Novi guessed that it was his turn to be surprised.
“I’ve never been captured by the Guild” the Synth reiterated. “Few escape Guild custody. Not alive anyway.”
Zin shot a look at the Captain, before striding over to the Command Seat to stand beside him. Soren angled the console to allow the Synth to see her. The new angle also allowed Novi to see the man on the console better.
“This is Commander Zinera Jeryn, my deputy, Mr. Vedino” the Captain introduced her.
“Why lie to us about the prison, Mr. Vedino?” the RimWorlder woman asked, without any attempt at small talk.
The Synth’s eyes flickered as he took in the magnificent beauty of Zinera Jeryn. His voice gentled subtly. “Perhaps, they hoped it might tempt you to go after the bounty, Commander.”
“No.” She shook her head. “The contradictions only made Ryf more suspicious.”
“It’s time to lay our cards on the table, Captain Soren” the Synth suggested.
“I’m willing, Mr. Vedino” the Captain agreed readily.
“Why did you want to meet me, Captain?”
“To warn you of the threat. The Guild makes a powerful enemy.”
The Synth inclined his head. “I thank you for your concern.”
“I’m also curious to know why the Guild wants you alive, Mr. Vedino” the Captain continued. “They’re offering seven figures for information leading to your capture. That tells me they believe you know something that threatens them.”
The Synth’s eyes widened at the sum. “I don’t have the answer to your question, Captain. Synths are persecuted on Guild worlds and many of us have been driven into the dangerous Badlands to hide from the Corps. But we’re hardly a threat to the Coalition. We’re barely surviving, as it is.”
The Captain cocked his head. “Why did you agree to meet us, Mr. Vedino?”
“I hoped you might help us” the Synth answered promptly.
“How can I help you?”
“The Ring is treacherous, even for experienced pilots. And most of ours have little experience. Many have died. And many continue to lose their lives merely trying to survive amidst the asteroids. The Renegade pilots were known to dodge the Corps in the Ring. Could some be willing to train Synth pilots, Captain Soren?”
As Vedino’s words died away, Zin Jeryn glanced at the Captain. Novi surmised that the others in Cruiser Control were as taken aback by the unusual request as the RimWorlder woman.
“I believe they would, Mr. Vedino” the Captain agreed.
On the console, the Synth looked mighty relieved by Soren’s response.
“I’ll send word to my Renegade comrades” the Captain assured the other man. “But it will take time to reach them in the Ren Welds.”
“Thank you, Captain Soren. Any assistance is greatly appreciated. The Renegades are much admired by Synths. Your success in expelling the Guild from your worlds gives us hope.”
“It was not without considerable sacrifice, Mr. Vedino” the Captain’s voice held a gentle warning.
“We’re prepared to sacrifice, Captain” the Synth said simply. “But currently, we lack the skills to make even our sacrifices count.”
The Captain inclined his head. For a few seconds, there was silence. Neither man broke it.
The Synth shot another glance at the silent Commander, before addressing Soren again. “You seek a weakness to use against the Guild?”
“Yes” the Captain confirmed bluntly, without any prevarication.
Vedino looked thoughtful. “Only one Synth has ever escaped Guild custody. He was being transported, presumably to a Coalition prison, when the ship crashed on an uninhabited world. Through sheer damn luck, he was able to escape. But the other Synth prisoners from the ship were too weak to make the attempt. These Synth talked of facilities where the Guild ran experiments on us.”
“Experiments” Zinera Jeryn exclaimed, astonished by the claim.
“They talked of their minds being forcibly invaded” the Synth said soberly. “Of unbearable agony and of hearing others cry out around them. Until I heard his account, I believed that the Coalition hunted us to use as unpaid labor in their mines. But now, I wonder if the Guild is interested in studying us.”
He turned to the Captain. “This might even explain why they want me alive, Captain Soren. Dead, they cannot experiment on me.”
The Captain said nothing, seemingly gobsmacked by the Synth’s words.
Novi, astonished herself, heard a muted gasp from someone in the chamber. She suspected it was Kidani who’d swallowed an unwary exclamation.
“It is beyond our ken to take advantage of this information” the Synth admitted. “But you might be able to.”
The Captain stirred. “You want us to track the ship’s destination — the location of the Guild prison where they experiment on Synths?”
The man on the console shook his head. “We know the ship’s destination, Captain. The planet it crashed on. But we cannot follow up. It is a world Synths are not allowed on.”
The Captain frowned. “I don’t understand, Mr. Vedino?”
“Kintano says you sail with InnerWorlders, Captain Soren. Ask them. They know which worlds are off-limits to Synths.”
“Sufito Nekthero” breathed the flame-haired girl’s voice from outside Novi’s vision.
Sacred Realm.
It was Novi’s turn to swallow her gasp, shocked as she was. Was the man implying that the Guild tortured Synths on a planet designated as a Sacred Realm, she wondered. Anything associated with the Benevolent Ones was sacred to the denizens of the Inner Worlds. And worlds where evidence of the Benevolent Ones had been unearthed were set aside as sites for pilgrimages. If word got out that the Guild was running a prison on a Sacred Realm, even die-hard loyalists would not forgive the Coalition. Even if the prison was meant for Synths. The Guild had been talking up the threat of Synths to the Inner Worlds for a while now. And while many had bought into it, they would not look the other way if the Guild involved a Realm in their campaign against the Synths. The irony of it did not escape Novi.
Serak Vedino was correct, she knew. This information, if true, was radioactive for the Guild. In the hands of someone canny enough to exploit it, it could light the spark of the revolution against the Coalition that Ryfkin Soren desired.
“She’s correct, Captain Soren” Vedino acknowledged, having heard Kidani over the console. “The world the ship crashed on is designated as Realm 3.”
On the console, a muted voice interrupted the Synth.
“I must leave now” Vedino said urgently. “I’ve been here too long, Captain Soren. If you desire to contact me, come to this section of the Badlands and hail any of the Synth vessels t
hat hide here. They can all get a message to me.”
“May TziGaros shower you with her bounty, Mr. Vedino.” Soren gave him the traditional RimWorlder blessing.
“And YanTeo watch over you, Captain Soren” the Synth signed off with the InnerWorlder solicitation.
It made Novi muse again on the irony of the situation. The Guild’s accusations against Synths seemed especially incongruous after Vedino’s familiar solicitation — a belief shared by all InnerWorlders.
For a moment, no one in Cruiser Control said anything. Too astonished by the Synth’s revelation, Novi guessed. She knew she was.
The Captain was the first to break the silence. He glanced to his side. “Why are Synths not allowed on your Sacred Realms, Kidani?”
“The Guild does not deem them InnerWorlders, Cap’n” she said woodenly. “Since the Realms are considered sacred to the Inner Worlds, Synths have been barred from planets blessed by the Benevolent Ones.”
“Not InvunWelders?” Soren shook his head, clearly confused.
“The Guild says Synths have alien heritage, Boss.” This time it was Jerik’s voice that answered the Captain. “And not just any alien. They possess the blood of those that once tried to harm the Benevolent Ones. The Ones are akin to Gods on the Inner Worlds.”
The Captain reflected on Jerik’s words.
“This Realm Vedino talked of. Which world is that?” he inquired, his eyes on his console.
The Commander moved back to her station to check her own console.
As the others turned their attentions to their respective stations, Jerik’s voice rang out again. “It’s the world previously known as Fumiko Terra, Boss. It should show up on your map with the old name.”
Once a world was designated as a Sacred Realm, it became a shrine for InnerWorlders. The Realm was then referenced only by a number. Many InnerWorlders dreamt of a pilgrimage in their lifetime to traverse the Sacred Realms and pay homage to the Benevolent Ones who’d once saved their race from extinction.
Curious to see the world the Synth claimed was the site of a Guild prison, Novi peered down, trying to catch a glimpse of the Captain’s console. The folds of the blanket around her slid along the smooth surface. In her eagerness, Novi almost pitched nose first into the panel cover. As she attempted to right herself, her palm smacked into the control patch to the side of the panel. She must have hit the wrong button, for the panel cover swung open abruptly. Momentum pushed Novi forward, even as she scrabbled frantically to hold on to something.
With a wild yell, Novi pitched forward, tumbling head first into the chamber below.
Episode 3 : Baptism by Fire
Prisoner
Imprisoned in the Cruiser’s hold, Novi awaits the Captain’s decision when fate throws an unexpected wrench in the works …
The hold
As Novi slid through the panel, an edge snagged the blanket around her, to halt her headlong fall. Scrabbling wildly for purchase, she grasped desperately at the handle of the open panel cover. For a moment, she hung precariously, suspended in air and upside down, held in check only by a piece of snagged cloth and her frantic fingers. In Cruiser Control, the stunned crew turned as one to gape at her. Her cry had drawn their attention. And now, they watched in slack-jawed consternation as she dangled above them, half in and half out of the access hatch. Novi, her precipitous descent temporarily halted, chanced a quick glance into the chamber. Below her, in the Command Seat, the Captain’s face appeared close as he stared up at her, the silver eyes bright.
There was silence in Cruiser Control. No one said anything — they simply stared in stunned amazement at the swathed figure dangling precariously from the ceiling. With a ripping sound, the blanket tore loose of its mooring. Gravity pitched Novi forward again. But this time, her convulsive clasp of the panel cover stopped her descent, allowing her to dangle feet first in the air for a few precious seconds. She gasped audibly, struggling to hold on. To Novi, the floor seemed awfully far.
Her stupefied audience watched mutely as she dangled in the air, desperately holding on by the tips of her fingers. Her frantic struggle had Ryfkin Soren springing to his feet. Moving into position under her, he readied to break her fall. The silver eyes swung upwards, and he opened his mouth to ask her to let go. But before he could, Novi lost her grip with a scream. As she came hurtling down, he raised his arms instinctively to catch her. She slammed into him like a rocket, the sheer force of her descent shoving him back into the Command Seat.
Her eyes closed, a frightened Novi landed on something hard with a jarring thud. The pounding of her heart and the rush of adrenaline in her drowned out everything and it took Novi a few seconds to comprehend that she was not smashed up and spread-eagled on the floor of Cruiser Control. Novi opened her eyes to find herself sprawled inelegantly over a masculine body and held snugly by a pair of powerful arms. Greatly relieved at not breaking her neck in the misadventure, Novi glanced up cautiously into silver eyes that stared at her in bemusement.
Ryfkin Soren. Zeuf and damnation!
This close to him, she could discern the darker pupils amidst the silver flecks. His unusual eyes were clear, she noted absently, like the waters of a beautiful volcanic lake she’d once been lucky to visit during her time on the cargo-hauler. Novi could still remember it — she’d had an epiphany as she gazed into the crystal-clear depths of a lake given birth by the violent spewing of ash and lava from the neighboring volcano. Now, as her gaze tangled with the uncanny silver eyes of the RimWorlder, Novi’s heart sank. She’d landed from the frying pan into the fire. The Captain’s reaction to her presence aboard his Cruiser was likely to resemble that of the volcano rather than the tranquil lake.
Shyte. Shyte. How do I explain this, YanTeo?
You’ve really stepped into it, Novi!
Despite her trepidation, a shaken Novi found it impossible to tear her gaze away from the one that held her. The unusual light-colored eyes matched his striking face. A broad forehead and a sharp blade of a nose with a firm chin and swarthy skin stretched tight over prominent cheekbones gave him an air akin to the corsair that the Guild called him. But it was the incongruously sensuous lips and the laugh lines around his mouth that worked to soften the effect of the harshly hewn features. This was a man passionate about his causes and his friends, Novi sensed. With the confidence to face down the devil himself for what he believed in. It explained why he’d thrown himself into an unwinnable campaign to drive the Guild Corps from the Rim Worlds.
Watch yourself! If Ryfkin Soren comes after you, unlike the Guild, you have anywhere to run.
The silver eyes held her hypnotized, exerting a kind of magnetic pull that made everything else recede into the background. Novi mused dazedly that the effect was eerily similar to that of the carved box in the maintenance duct. She took a deep breath, as her mind screamed about the looming threat she’d unwittingly invited. It was her indrawn breath that served to galvanize Soren. Dawning realization seeped into the bright silver eyes, transforming them from the stillness of a placid lake into the storminess of an angry dust storm on Idriko. And a watchful Novi strove frantically to conjure up a story she could spin.
Zinera Jeryn was the first to break the silence in Cruiser Control.
“Ryf” she said clearly — shock, astonishment and warning mingled together in that one word.
But the Captain was over his initial surprise. Letting go off her, he grasped the arms of the Command Seat to spring to his feet. A hapless Novi, her lower body still entangled with the trailing blanket, slid off him abruptly to land at his feet in an ungainly heap.
“Oof” she gasped, in shock at finding herself up close and personal with the hard floor.
Fortunately for Novi, the thick blanket had helped to soften her fall. But the hard landing was like a douse of cold water, clearing her mind of all distractions except the predicament she found herself in.
While eight pairs of astounded eyes turned to the girl on the floor, Novi glanced a long way
up at the big man looming over her. The narrowed silver eyes watched her with an expression that boded ill for her.
Shyte. Shyte. Shyte.
“Water” she murmured feebly, allowing her eyes to close dramatically, even as her hand reached for the locket around her neck.
Squarely in the fire now, there was no escaping the licking flames. So, Novi did the only thing she could — she played for time before explanations were demanded of her. But first, she made sure that she was a shadow no more, now that her presence aboard was no longer a secret. Questions would be raised if the Cruiser’s tech did not flag her presence aboard it.
Ryfkin Soren stared down at the petite bundle of femininity at his feet — a shapeless parcel swaddled in a blanket that looked vaguely familiar. Her hurtling crash into Cruiser Control from the access hatch above had stupefied him, shocking him speechless in one of the rare instances of his life. But now, questions jostled in him. Sprawled on her stomach on the rough floor, with her head to one side and an arm flung upwards, she lay seemingly exhausted. Bright curls cascaded to just below her shoulder, hiding her eyes. But he knew their color — an unusual rich mix of green, blue and brown. Once, a long time ago, he’d come across a baby burumha deep in the rainforests of his home world. The slumbering feline had blinked up at him with the same eyes, as he stared at it in stunned astonishment, until its mother had charged him with a roar. Beautiful creatures like the one at his feet always came with prickly and deadly thorns, even if not obvious at first glance. If life had taught him any lesson, it was this.
“Feckin’ Hadis.” He gave vent to his extraordinary astonishment. “Who are you?”
Novi, her heart thumping wildly, opened her eyes to shoot him another glance. “Water, please” she gasped weakly, pretending to lay limply on the floor.
Beneath her slumped body, Novi’s fingers felt for the locket around her neck to press the tiny control, only letting go when she felt the click against her skin. If she had glanced up, she’d note Ryfkin Soren’s astonishment give way to something far more complicated.
