Voidhawk
By Jason Halstead
©2011
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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Cover art © 2011 by Willsin Rowe
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Check these other Voidhawk books out:
Book 2: Voidhawk – The Elder Race
Book 3: Voidhawk – Redemption
Book 4: Voidhawk – The White Lady
Chapter 1 : Voidhawk
“That be a pretty story, boy-o! Good enough to earn you a drink!”
“I don’t need a drink, Kragor. I need you!” The man retorted. He looked at his empty beer stein before relenting, “Okay, I seem to be needing a drink as well.”
Kragor, a dwarf in his prime, guffawed and reached over the bar to slap Dexter on the shoulder. He swept away the ale stein and returned it a moment later with a fresh head of foam. “You mean to say you hauled a ghost ship — a trader at that — with one of them Federation Gnats? Might be you’ve spent too much time in the void.”
“Might be,” Dexter admitted, “but I did it! I hid it good too… in the Playground. Fouled my air up, but I made it back.”
Kragor raised an eyebrow and made a noncommittal noise in his throat that Dexter took to be encouragement.
“It’s been dead to the void for a long time,” Dexter said after a fresh drink. “And it’s been through a lot as well, but she’s still got some good bones to her.”
Kragor chuckled. “What about the helm, boy-o? Can she still be sailed through the void?”
Dexter nodded. “Aye, it can. Well the sails and the ship’ve got no power to ‘em now, been floating for a while. But I sat myself in it and felt the link.”
Kragor stroked his beard. “It have a name, this ghost ship?”
Dexter nodded again. “Hawk’s Talons.”
Kragor snorted. “What kind of name is that? Bah!”
Another patron down the bar signaled Kragor. The dwarf waved back at him to show he would be there in a moment. “I’ll admit you be a fine pilot, Dex, but you’ve had some damn fool schemes before about getting a ship o’ your own. Might be you should just stick with the Fed Navy and fly their scout ships.”
Dexter glared at him, feeling stung. He looked past the dwarf and saw the open window into the kitchen, where Kragor’s wife, Jodyne, worked to whip up her latest culinary delights. Kragor followed Dexter’s gaze, turning around to look at his wife. She was busy and did not notice their attention.
“Aye, lad, a time comes to us all for settling down,” Kragor said, as much as admitting he had recently been on the receiving end of one of Jodyne’s lectures. He waved at the patron who was signaling him again, begging another moment while the barkeep talked with his friend.
“Kragor, you’ve been with me on every one of those foolish schemes; don’t you be going soft on me now. You’re not that old!” Dexter pleaded.
Kragor harrumphed. “Not that old? Boy I’ve seen seventy six turns of the year. I’m three times your elder!”
Dexter shrugged. “You were hiding behind your mother’s skirts until you were older than me!”
Kragor chuckled, then caught himself. Dwarves did live longer than humans, but they grew up slower as well. Ironic, considering a fully grown dwarf was two thirds the height of a human. It was one of the many mysteries of the void that only the Gods knew the answer to.
“Just come with me tomorrow when I fly out on my patrol. You can stow away on my Gnat and check it out,” Dexter leaned closer.
The customer waved again, showing a face filled with irritation. Kragor turned and snapped, “Just a damned minute!”
The customer’s face paled at the surly dwarf’s words, but his lips also clamped shut. Kragor turned back to Dexter but saw a man emerging from a doorway behind him. “Uh oh,” Kragor reached for an empty mug and a towel.
“Dexter Silvercloud, whose copper are you drinking on today?” The owner of the inn came up behind the two. He clapped a hand on Dexter’s shoulder.
“Master Twinver,” Dexter acknowledged. He looked at Kragor and winked, forcing a soft groan from the dwarf. “With ale the quality of yours, I’d be hard pressed to spend my hard earned copper on it.”
The innkeeper smirked at Dexer’s words, but the smile faded as he realized the navy pilot’s words were instead mocking him. He flushed and he turned to Kragor.
“Out with you both! I’ve given you one chance too many, Kragor, and only for love of your wife’s cooking! Why she married a petty thief and a fool such as you is beyond me! Be gone with you and never step foot in here again!”
The larger man yanked on Dexter’s shirt, forcing him to stand or be pulled to the floor. Off balance, he was easy to redirect towards the door. Kragor still stood behind the bar, a little surprised by the sudden exchange. The owner of the tavern turned back to him and pointed towards the door, teeth clenched.
Kragor turned to look back over his shoulder, fearful of what he might see. Sure enough, Jodyne glared at him from the kitchen, a knife in her hand. Kragor gulped and tossed his rag on the bar, then hopped off the narrow ramp he’d built behind it to allow him to stand at a respectable height. He hurried around to join Dexter at the door then turned, still able to see through the open window to the kitchen.
“Out!” Master Twinver shouted.
Kragor opened his mouth, his eyes met Jodyne’s and hers narrowed. He grabbed Dexter and pulled him through the door before the large kitchen knife slammed into it.
Outside the Lost Sailor tavern Dexter turned to Kragor and grinned. “What say you, want to look at a boat?”
Kragor looked back at the door and sighed. “Damn you, Dex,” he said, though his heart was not really in the curse. “Have you any idea what I’m to do to get back in Jodyne’s graces?”
“How about coming back for her and telling her you’re the first mate of a private ship?”
Kragor stared at Dexter until time enough had passed to pour and drain a flagon of ale. Unable to resist, he grinned. “Sure enough I’m as daft as you, my boy.”
“You’ll come check it out with me?” Dexter asked again, daring to hope he’d won his friend over.
“Aye, I’ll do it,” Kragor’s grin faded as another facet of his new reality came to him. “But I need a place to sleep for a few days.”
* * * *
A few times in the past Dexter and Kragor, bound for some shady business opportunity, had needed to enter the Federation shipyards. To aid in their endeavors Dexter had acquired an extra uniform and had it tailored to fit the dwarf. Kragor could hardly escape close inspection, but a few well placed bribes would turn the right heads at the right time.
Smuggling Kragor onto his scout ship was something altogether new. Dexter thought long and hard on it and realized there was no way he could get the dwarf to the docks and on to a ship. Kragor could pass for a short human at a distance. Up close it
was impossible to pass him off; The Federation only employed humans.
Instead Kragor made his way to the underside of the asteroid known as Logan’s Haven, which was also the name of the original town that had sprung up. Once a pirate retreat, it had grown and then been taken over by the Federation. Now the town was called New Haven, and was one of the outer strongholds of the Federation. Away from the sun lay pirates, slavers, more asteroid belts similar to The Playground — and rumors of entire fleets of uncharted worlds, unrecognized races, and worse. Sunward and beyond, on the other side of Federation space, lay the vast reaches of the void controlled by the Elven Empire.
Even with so many far reaching hands, one could travel for weeks in any direction and see neither ship nor rock, let alone planet. The planets of the system were left on their own. Only dirthuggers lived on them and seldom was any profitable trade to be done with them. Each planet was fixed in place, rotating about its own axis to provide a day and night for the inhabitants — this made charting courses and establishing empires easy to do, but the great distances made communication and logistics a nightmare.
Dexter picked him up there, concentrating hard to keep his small ship from crashing into the forested underside of Logan’s Haven while Kragor struggled to climb up the rope that had been tossed over for him. Finally, sweating from the effort, the dwarf was on the deck and hauling in the rope.
“Boy-o, you best be right about this wreck,” Kragor warned between heavy breaths. “There’s naught else in the void that’ll make this worth the trouble you cause me!”
“That’s Captain Boy-o to you.” Dexter grinned. Already they were speeding away from New Haven.
Kragor harrumphed again. “Not yet it ain’t, I need to be seeing this thing and figuring if it can be fixed.”
“If it can be fixed or if you can fix it?” Dexter needled.
“Bah!” Kragor spat out. “If it can be fixed, I’m the dwarf to be doing it!”
Dexter chuckled and aimed the small craft towards the stars before bringing it up to cruising speed. Kragor looked around on the small deck and sat on a chest with emergency supplies for the lone pilot.
Well over an hour later Kragor’s mounting nerves caused him to stroke his beard. Dexter was sliding them through the smaller rocks on the edge of The Playground, easily keeping the gnat safe. Once through the outer rocks they slipped amongst floating rocks the size of wagons and houses. The Playground had served many times as a pirate base, but the difficulty in navigating it kept the many ships out.
Another quarter hour of nervous sweating on Kragor’s part let Dexter pilot the ship to a large asteroid that looked almost round. The dwarf kept trying to spot anything out of the ordinary, but the distractions of rocks that seemed destined to smash into them proved too much to ignore. Dexter skirted them all with ease and piloted them to he far side of the asteroid. Dexter surprised Kragor, following the floating rock’s curvature and then ducking into a shadowed region underneath of it. He rolled the boat and gently landed the Gnat in the dark depression.
“What do you think?” Dexter asked, stepping out of the partially enclosed helm.
“It’s dark,” Kragor pointed out. He looked around at the small crater in the asteroid, seeing little more than the shadows of a ship.
“I thought dwarves could see in the dark?” Dexter asked, teasing him.
“We can! But it’s not like seeing with some light!” Kragor snapped back at him.
“Then get off my supply chest so I can get a lightstone.”
“Oh!” Kragor hopped up and stepped to the side, letting Dexter unlock the chest and rifle through the contents.
“Air’s a bit stale on this rock,” Kragor noted.
“That’s from the ship. It had a bubble of dead air around about it when I brought her in, remember?” Dexter said.
The asteroid, as in all things found floating in the void, had a pocket of air surrounding it. Sages said this varied by the size of the object, with larger things having greater air pockets. Each object had gravity as well, and when two or more objects were within proximity of one another, the largest object overruled the others. The rock they were on was large enough to have an air bubble about it that, if fresh, would last the two men for weeks.
“How would I remember, you was there, not me!”
“But I told you,” Dexter pulled out a short wooden stick with a brightly glowing brass ball fixed to the end of it. “It fouled the air on my Gnat too, but standard Fed supplies includes a fresh air mask that’s good for a few hours.”
Kragor grunted, anxious to take a closer look at the ship now that Dexter had pulled the lightstone out of the chest. His first impression, however, did not look promising.
“You dragged me out here for this wreck?” Kragor asked, squinting to get a better look at it.
Dexter sighed. “I thought the same when I first laid my eyes on her,” he said. “But she’s built solid and has some strength left in her.”
Kragor scowled but realized he was interested in spite of himself. “Alright, run out the ramp, let’s get over there.”
Dexter untied a rope ladder and dropped it over the side of the boat. He looked to Kragor, who rolled his eyes at the thought of a rope ladder, and climbed down it ahead of the dwarf. Kragor followed, muttering obscenities under his breath the whole way.
“She’s beat up bad but...” Dexter felt the need to defend the battered vessel as they walked over the rocky ground of the asteroid
“Shut yer mouth, Boy-o, I’m thinking here,” Kragor snapped. Dexter fought back the chuckle but he could not hide the smile. He’d hooked the dwarf and he knew it.
The ship was built to resemble a hawk. Segmented windows from the bridge looked out, appearing to be the eyes of the bird. Sails that resembled wings graced both sides and the main deck, allowing it to catch the solar wind and sail through the void. Another sail at the aft served as a rudder, aiding the man at the helm with maneuvering. The hull was cracked and broken in many places; holes dotted its landscape. The sails had long since rotted away as well. The newest thing on it was the tow rope Dexter left tied to the forecastle.
Finally, at the side of the broken and battered hull Kragor blew out a deep breath. “She’s older than me, but she’s held up. Still, that’s no kindness. A little bit of an odd shape for a trader, but I can see some of the modifications done to her.”
“The landing supports?” Dexter asked.
“Aye, laddy, them’s different. She’s been refitted for land or water, instead of just water,” Kragor acknowledged. “And unless I miss me guess, there’s more room in her innards too.”
“Let’s find out!” Dexter’s excitement was building beyond his wildest dreams.
Kragor nodded and let Dexter lead him through a hole in the hull of ship to one of the two cargo holds. Their surprise was that the hold had been converted to a once sumptuous stateroom. Kragor reached up to wrap his knuckles against the wood at various points, testing it for soundness. He nodded his head in approval each time as they moved through the ship.
“This was no merchant ship,” Kragor said after they had made their way up the mostly intact stairs to the main deck. “The helm’s on the bridge, instead of the rear like a normal trader would have it. And in the rear it’s sectioned into crew quarters. The holds were turned into a bedroom on the port and a mess on the starboard. Up front you got the bridge where it should be, and the head and the captain’s room. Two other rooms up there though, both made into bedrooms.”
“What do you think?”
“I ain’t done thinking yet!” Kragor snapped. He looked around the main deck and nodded. “It’s a good design down below, but it’s worth beggar’s wages if you want to carry any cargo. Up here it looks pretty norm… is that a catapult?”
Dexter followed Kragor over the deck to the bow of the ship where an ancient catapult was fixed to the forecastle. He whistled and turned towards the stern. “Let’s head aft, boy-o, and see what she’s pac
king astern!”
Dexter chuckled and followed after his excited friend. On the stern castle a ballista lay waiting to be repaired and used. Kragor shook his head and chuckled. “I was right, she is old. That or she was a pirate ship. No weapons allowed on a common ship for as long as I can remember.”
Dexter nodded. He thought as much, but he wanted to hear Kragor say it before voicing his own opinion. “We’ll have to dump them then.”
“Bah, too right,” Kragor admitted. “But we can fix ‘em up and sell em instead o’ dumping ‘em!”
Dexter chuckled, his friend was getting excited. Kragor turned back to him and nodded. “Captain, you got yourself a first mate!”
Dexter laughed and clapped him on the back. Right then and there, anything was possible.
“How’s the helm?” Kragor asked him after a moment of shared silent appreciation. For years the two of them had schemed with ways to come up with enough money to buy a ship. They had even worked out a few plans to steal one, but neither was ready to be branded outlaws.
Dexter nodded. “It’s in good enough shape, though the ship’s got no power. We’ll have to charge it with a battery.”
“How fast ya think she’ll go?” Kragor asked. “Traders ain’t known for being quick, just for carrying cargo cheap as can be.”
“Aye, I’m thinking she’ll be only a little slower than the Gnat at in a gravity well,” Dexter mused. “Rigged out a little different than normal, with some good sails she should do fine. She’ll have sails big enough for a good clip between systems too.”
“It’s big for a trader, I’m guessing 5 or 10 tons more than normal,” Kragor estimated. “I ‘spect she’ll handle alright, once we get her fixed up.”
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