by J G Cressey
Jumper nodded in agreement. “If we don’t aid each other in crappy times like these, then…well, the human race would basically be screwed.”
Cal raised an eyebrow at his old friend. “I never knew you were such a poet.”
Jumper shot him a half smile. “Hey, poetry doesn’t have to be flowery and eloquent.”
Stevenson gave a slightly perplexed nod and cleared his throat before continuing. “Anyhow, I’d like to show my appreciation if possible. Surely there’s something I can do for you?”
“Don’t waste time worrying about us,” Jumper said with a glance around. “You’ve got the remnants of this shit storm to deal with.”
“Unless…” Cal started, unwilling to let the opportunity pass by. “There is one thing we need that won’t cost you or the city anything.”
“Please, just name it.”
“Information.”
Stevenson raised a questioning eyebrow.
“The pirate attack a few weeks back,” Cal elaborated. “If you’ve any information that might point us toward their whereabouts. Absolutely anything, even if you consider it insignificant. Something that might offer clues as to who they are, where they’ve been, or where they’re going.”
Appearing frustrated, Stevenson had begun shaking his head even before Cal had finished speaking. “I’m sorry, Mr. Harper. I personally gathered the reports of the attack from every guard in this city. Then, I compiled any useful information to pass onto the Aldular authorities. I will of course give you whatever we have, but I’m afraid it amounted to very little. There’s barely anything useful, certainly nothing that might point to their location or future plans.”
Damn it to hell. Cal pressed his lips tight in frustration. He’d heard a variation of those words far too many times of late.
“But I can tell you that these weren’t your average pirates,” Stevenson said, clearly desperate to be helpful. “They were careful, efficient, and organized. All of them were well-armed and had a clear-cut line of command. They even had a fully-fledged tech team who went about erasing every scrap of security footage.”
Cal wanted to hit something, hit it until his knuckles bled. Surely some of the bastards had been incompetent and slipped up somehow? He’d dealt with enough pirates during his military years to know that most were unfamiliar with the concept of caution and subtlety. Some of them must have—
“Hex.”
The word hit Cal like a bat to the head, and he almost stumbled as he turned sharply toward the speaker. Young Jacobs flinched at the reaction then looked instantly sheepish, clearly wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. Cal’s pulse quickened. That simple word had been sounding in the confines of his head for months, but to hear it spoken out loud from someone he barely knew made him want to grab the young man and shake more words loose. Deciding that roughing up him up wasn’t his best course of action, he instead asked a question even though the word had been spoken clear as day. “What did you say?”
“Sorry, I, uh…sorry.” Jacobs shot a slightly panicked glance at Captain Stevenson.
“Don’t be sorry,” Cal said quickly, trying to keep his tone soft so as not to scare the skittish young man into silence. “Just tell me what you said. It’s important.”
Jacobs opened his mouth and kept it open for a time, looking like a fish out of water as he struggled to make sound come out. His increased anxiety at suddenly being the focus of so much attention was obviously proving too much for the young man.
Stevenson looked at him, his impatience made clear by his furrowed brow. “Well, speak up, lad,” he barked, sounding as if he too was on the verge of giving him a rough shake.
Jacobs stuttered incoherently for a moment before Peterson moved around him. “Hex. He said Hex.”
Cal felt a surge of hope. This is it. This was what he’d been searching for all these months. He nodded encouragingly at both Jacobs and Peterson, trying to draw out more words.
“The two of us overheard a couple of the pirates during the attack,” Peterson explained with infinitely more confidence than his fellow recruit. The young man seemed to have rediscovered a good deal of his cocky nature now that he was behind secure barricades and surrounded by big guns. Poor Jacobs, on the other hand, looked like he might never find the courage to speak again.
The anticipation burning in his gut, Cal took an involuntary step toward them. “I need to know exactly what you saw and what was said. Word for word if you can.”
“Sure sure,” Peterson replied casually as he began prodding and picking at the bandage around his head. “Just give me a sec to sort this thing out. Bloody thing’s really starting to itch.” He continued to fiddle and prod for some moments, all the while seeming completely oblivious, or perhaps unbothered, by the weight of the information he held. “Do you think I should put a fresh one on?” he asked eventually. “I’m wondering whether this one’s a bit dirty. Maybe it could cause an infection or something.”
Cal was starting to feel a little volatile. One of these idiots was going to have to divulge quickly otherwise violence might become unavoidable.
Peterson bravely tugged on his bandage a little more firmly. “There we go. That feels more comfy,” he said, finally seeming happy with the positioning. “I’ll go and get a clean one in a bit. An’ I’ll get a pill too…to kill off any infection,” he added, looking about at each of them to be sure he’d put their minds at rest.
Cal did his best to remain still and silent.
“So the pirates, right?” Peterson asked, his expression breezy.
Cal nodded stiffly.
Peterson looked upward in that busy recalling sort of way and sucked on his teeth for a moment. “Okay, yeah, I remember. So soon after they attacked, everyone in uniform was sort of herded into groups and watched over. I suppose they were making sure we didn’t try anything while they did their thing. You know, stole whatever they were stealing. Most of the pirates stayed silent, staring down at us, occasionally waving their guns around, trying to look menacing, trying to keep people scared. After a while, though, a couple of them started chatting. They got bored, I suppose.” Peterson grinned. “They were a right pair they were…the two who started talking…a real ugly couple of bastards.”
“Language, Peterson,” Stevenson chided.
“Sorry, sir.” Peterson’s apology was automatic and completely lacking in sincerity.
Cal worked his jaw and somehow continued to keep his temper in check. After everything they’d just been through, Stevenson was concerned about bad language! “Go on,” Cal said, nodding at Peterson in an attempt to rekindle the young man’s flow.
“Sure sure. So these two ugly…chaps, they were careful to keep their voices low. But Jacobs and I were close enough to hear bits of what was said. Nothing all that interesting. Most of it was just a whispered argument about which rifles could pierce which armor. They went on for a bit until one of them argued that size alone didn’t amount to penetration power. Then the other started laughing and said he knew a bunch of whores in the Pink Cherry club who’d beg to differ. It was actually pretty funny, I thought,” Peterson said, looking around with a grin—an act which quickly earned him another rebuke from Stevenson.
“What about Hex?” Cal asked, holding up his hand to Stevenson in the hope he’d quit his ridiculous reprimands.
Peterson nodded. “Yeah yeah, I was getting to that,” he said, looking slightly put out that no one shared in his sense of humor. “So both of them laughed for a bit, you know, about the penetration joke, then one of them said, ‘Man, I miss those clubs. You reckon the boss’ll let us stop off at Falco Prime for a bit of action on our way back to Hex?’”
Realizing that he’d been holding his breath, Cal held it a little longer until he was sure the young man had finished, then his mind reeled over what he’d just heard. So Hex was definitely a location. Maybe a planet or a station.
“And you didn’t think to put this in your report?” Jumper asked.
“
We were just cadets then, not properly enlisted. No one thought to ask for a report from us.”
Now it was Stevenson’s turn to look sheepish.
Cal felt himself relax, a deep set mental tension starting to drain out of him. Falco Prime. This was it, their first real clue to Kaia’s whereabouts, and it was a damn good one. He’d never been to Falco Prime, but he’d heard of it and knew exactly where it was. His urge to punch Peterson had suddenly become a compulsion to hug him. This was bloody well it, a solid lead to follow, a direction to go. About damn time. Eight months they’d been searching. And now finally they’d—
“Calo.”
For the second time in just a few minutes, young Jacobs abruptly stopped Cal’s thoughts with a single word. This time, however, instead of filling him with hope, the word knocked the wind out of him. He looked at Jacobs again and wasn’t surprised to find that the nervous young man looked panicked—as well as a little shocked that his stupid, betraying mouth had somehow drawn all the attention back to him.
“Calo? As in Calo Prime? The city Calo Prime?” Cal asked.
Jacobs took a deep breath and nodded. “Calo Prime was the place the pirate mentioned, not Falco Prime.”
Peterson stepped forward. “No it wasn’t, you bloody idiot.”
“Peterson, I won’t warn you again about your language.”
“Sorry, sir.”
Cal shot Stevenson a look. “You said you wanted to help me, Captain. Please let them damn well curse all they want.”
Peterson grinned at that. Stevenson didn’t.
“How sure are you?” Cal asked, looking at both of the young men in turn.
“Completely.”
“Ab…Absolutely.”
“One of you has to be wrong,” Cal reasoned.
“Not me,” Peterson said quickly.
“You certain of that?”
“Sure, sure,” Peterson said with another annoyingly casual wave of his hand.
“I guess…I guess I could have misheard,” Jacobs admitted.
Cal looked him in the eye. “You might have misheard?”
Jacobs nodded.
“You sure?”
“No.”
Oh fucking, bloody hell. Cal took a long, steady-ish breath and tried to calm down. He reminded himself that he still had a lead even if he’d have to travel to both locations to find out which of the idiots had been right. Unless, of course, they’d both misheard.
“Okay,” Cal said once he’d more or less gotten control of himself. “How’s about you two just have a think for a few minutes. Try and take yourselves back to that day. Close your eyes and meditate on it or something.”
Leaving the pair to it, Cal turned to Jumper.
His old friend shrugged. “It’s something,” he said encouragingly. “Which is a damn sight more than we’ve had for some time.”
“That’s true,” Cal admitted. “But Falco Prime or Calo Prime?”
“You’ve heard of them?”
Cal nodded. “They’re both colony cities. Both are screwed up enough to appeal to pirates, and both are a long distance from here, at least a couple of months travel. But the bitch of the matter is that they’re in completely opposite directions. If we go to the wrong one, it’s going to be a hell of a long journey to backtrack to the other. And whichever we end up going to, we’re going to have to factor in a stop at Alvor to restock our supplies, weapons and Xcel…stuff we can’t get elsewhere.”
“At least Alvor’s not far.”
Cal shrugged. “It will still add a week or more to our journey.”
“That one of the reasons you’re so angry?”
Cal looked down, sucking on his teeth. “Noticed that, did you?”
“I noticed the clenched fists,” Jumper said, his tone leaning toward serious. “Maybe you need to get a handle on that?”
Cal looked at him. “Maybe,” he said, not feeling in the mood to appease his old friend even though he knew he was right. “We should be able to get more information about the two destinations when we reach Alvor,” he said, steering the subject back around. “Perhaps garner some clues as to which might be the most likely.” He glanced over at Jacobs and Peterson. “To be honest, I’m hoping the cocky one is right.”
“Why’s that?”
“Falco Prime is in the Lexion System, which is located in fringe space territory. If the pirates were hoping to stop there en route to Hex, then it must mean it’s located somewhere in that system.”
“Unless the pirates have branched out into unchartered space,” Jumper reasoned.
“It’s possible,” Cal conceded after a moment’s thought, “but I’d suggest unlikely. The Lexion System was poorly policed even before the Insidions created their chaos. It’s probably now a rampant, lawless free-for-all. They’ve no reason to hide out in the void. The Lexion system’s a perfect spot for them.”
Jumper nodded with a troubled frown. “You mean the perfect spot for us to get into our usual trouble.”
A smile tugged at Cal’s lips. “Wouldn’t want to get bored, would you?”
“Let’s just say I wouldn’t be overly disappointed if it turned out to be Calo Prime.”
Cal gave into his smile. “Perhaps I didn’t mention,” he said, giving Jumper a consoling pat on the back. “Calo Prime is in the Pantar System. And as bad as Lexion is, Pantar is probably a touch worse.”
Epilogue
Making his way to the Star Splinter’s cockpit, Cal recognized a slight buzz running through the walls that suggested an emergency, full-throttle run out of the atmosphere. Picking up his pace, he soon found Toker leaning eagerly over the flight controls. “I think you can probably ease off the engines,” he suggested as he entered the cockpit. “I don’t think the planet is set to explode.”
Toker glanced at him with a slightly sheepish grin. “Yeah, sorry,” he said before turning back and making some adjustments to their speed. “Just felt the urge to get the hell away before more crazy shit happened.”
“Yeah. I hear you,” Cal said as he sat himself in the nav chair next to his young friend. He gave the readouts a quick study. “Seems like we’re clear now though. I doubt even a Kratanu has ever plucked a ship out of the stratosphere.”
“There’s a first time for everything,” Toker replied. “Especially when we’re involved.”
Cal had to concede and acknowledged the insight with a half shrug, half nod. Indeed, avoiding more “crazy shit” had been the main reason he’d encouraged a swift departure from the city. Once aid had arrived from Aldular, they’d bid Jim Douglas and Captain Stevenson farewell and wished them luck in what was sure to be a challenging future. Then they’d piled into the Star Splinter and quickly set their course.
Toker glanced at him again. “The others okay?”
“Yep, thank god. Melinda’s wrangled Eddy into the med bay to run some follow up tests, and Jumper and Viktor are trying to stop her wriggling free.”
Toker shook his head. “She’s the worst bloody patient in all of existence. I seriously think some sort of permanent sedative should be considered.” The young man gave a little despairing huff then spent some time checking and rechecking his flight settings before finally easing back into his chair to give Cal his full attention. “So…you feeling more relaxed after your vacation?”
Cal managed a quick grin. Despite them all giving Toker a hard time, his humor was often just what was needed no matter how dry or seemingly inappropriate. “Never felt calmer.” He sat up and gave his back and exaggerated stretch. “Totally revived.”
“Glad to hear it. You should take our advice more often.”
Cal smirked, but the honest truth was that a part of him did feel more relaxed. Despite still reeling from the danger and horror they’d just witnessed and endured, that part of his mind that had been agonizing over Kaia’s whereabouts had undeniably eased. He’d gotten his wish. Finally a clue. He still hadn’t managed to coax a definitive answer from Peterson or Jacobs by the time they’
d left and had been forced to except that he wasn’t going to get one. But he was confident that one of the young lackeys had heard right, and that was better than nothing. A damn sight better.
Calo Prime or Falco Prime? It was only a sliver of information, but even if they had to travel to both destinations, at least they were no longer flying totally blind.
Toker put his feet up on the console and leaned back in his flight seat. “You know, just once I’d like to go to someplace where no one’s trying to con, kidnap, or kill us. And no bloody great beasties are wanting to snack on us. You know what I mean? Somewhere peaceful. Somewhere with nice folk and small, cute wildlife. Somewhere that’s just…safe. You think such a place exists, Cal? Or am I just nuts and pathetically naïve?”
Cal shrugged. “What about Tuccon? That was a nice place.”
“You’re kidding, right? Tuccon! The place with the splice bugs?”
“Ah. Right, yes, I forgot about the bugs.”
Toker shot him a slightly disgruntled look. “Easy for you to forget. You didn’t sit on their nest and have them crawling into your…well, you know…”
“Yeah, that was rough for you,” Cal said, trying his best not to smile. He shrugged again. “In a couple of weeks, we’ll be back on Alvor. Maybe that’s about as safe a haven as we’re likely to get right now.”
Toker scoffed. “Yeah, a nice little relax in a military base before we head off to a hot spot where pirates specifically go to misbehave. What bright futures we have, eh!”
Cal leaned forward to study the nav readouts for a moment—or at least he pretended to while deciding on how best to continue that particular conversation. “Actually, the pirates…this new lead…that was something I wanted to talk to you about. All of you.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Try not to overreact, but I think it’s best I scout out these destinations solo. At least to begin with.”
Toker stared blankly at him for a moment, then to Cal’s surprise, he smiled and even chuckled a little as he shook his head. “Seriously, Cal? You’re seriously trying to play your solo card again?”
“And why wouldn’t I?” Cal asked, suddenly feeling a little vexed. “After what just happened. After the shit we just got into. This wasn’t just some unfortunate encounter with splice bugs or some mishap with the Arrubian mayor’s wife. Eddy almost died. She did die. We can’t keep beating the odds like this, Toker. Sooner or later, one of us…or all of us are going to pay the price. I just think there’s too much risk.”
