Spacer Clans Adventure 1: Naero's Run

by Mason Elliott

  Gallan led Ellis down to his quarters, the Matayan protesting the entire time.

  “If it is as you say, and I am not a prisoner, then why are you detaining me?” He spotted Naero.

  “Girl, tell this oaf to release me at once. As a prince, I demand it.”

  Girl? He didn’t even remember her name?

  “In case you’ve forgotten, your highness, my name is Naero, Naero Amashin Maeris, of Clan Maeris.” She watched his eyes widen.

  “Naero, of Clan Maeris, I gave my word upon my honor to your leader not to harm any of you or sabotage this ship. It is in my best interest that we escape. I resent being treated like a criminal.”

  “You’re still a potential enemy,” she said, despite the fact that, cleaned up, he was even prettier, and he smelled wonderful, like musk and flowers.

  “The fact that we rescued you does not dispense with centuries of hatred and violence between Spacers and Matayans. Like I told Tarim, Gallan and I will come to see you, but for now, I think Baeven’s right. Until we’re sure we’re safe, we can’t take any chances.”

  “If you are not ransoming me, then allow me to send a coded message to my people.”

  “Right, fat chance. And have Triax and whoever else intercept it and hunt us down? Live with it–you’re going to run with us for a while. We’re all alive at least. As soon as we can, we’ll try to dump you off somewhere safe. But we can’t leave any leads for our enemies to follow.”

  Ellis stalked into his chambers without another word, his back to them, still fuming. Fists clenched and broad shoulders tight.

  They secured the panel behind him.

  The bugs protested again.

  “Naero,” Baeven called over her com, “I want you in the Medical Bay as soon as you’re done.”

  “Affirmative. We’re finished here. Gallan’s going back to monitor the bridge. I’ll be with you shortly.”

  In the small ship’s medical section, Baeven performed a variety of scans and tests on her, all to no avail.

  Occasionally Om would ask her, Are we in danger? Is this one trying to access our secrets? He is formidable. How can I defend us and our secrets with my defensive protocols still offline?

  I’m not sure, Om. I think he’s trying to help us still. Let’s wait and learn what we can.

  Something told her to hold back what Kattryll had let slip, that Triax alone possessed some way to detect and access the Kexxian Matrix. Every time she was on the verge of telling Baeven that, some instinct warned her not to.

  “Are we done yet?” Naero asked. “I’ve been away from my studies for a few days. I’d like to get back to them.” She was starting to get stiff. The old cushions of the medbed felt like lumps of solid rubber.

  Baeven seemed under a great deal of pressure.

  “Nothing!” He slammed his fist against the ship’s hull.

  He actually dented it.

  With his bare fist.

  He turned to her again. “I need you to think back to when you and your brother were with your parents.”

  “Okay...”

  “Were you ill at all? Did you or your brother undergo any medical treatments, even routine immunizations?”

  Then Naero remembered.

  “There was this weird physical scan that took several hours. The medtek was this little furry guy from Omni Corp space, a Cumi. I don’t remember very much about it. They performed it while we slept. Mom and Dad were real grim and insistent about it at the time. All they said was that they were worried about some kind of ancient plague. But we checked out fine.”

  “Haisha, that could be it,” Baeven said. “What plague could they have meant? The Kexx virtually eliminated illness among themselves and their systems for millions of years.”

  “Does it have something to do with the Cumi then?”

  “The Cumi are another ancient, far-trading race. They knew of the Kexx at the very beginning of their civilization. And you say your parents said nothing more to you two about these scans–which just happened to take hours to complete–or what they were for?”

  “That’s not unusual,” Naero told him. “We didn’t talk much. Jan and I were fighting constantly with our parents before they left on their re-supply loops through Matashi and Omni Corps. On their last exploration run. We couldn’t speak to each other without arguing.”

  “They might not have told you the truth for good reason.”

  “They thought it best that we all cool down for a while, so as usual, they sent me and Jan off with Aunt Sleak again. It was on their way home to rendezvous with her on her Triax run that they...”

  She choked up suddenly.

  Why now, of all times? It was as if her throat suddenly filled up with dust.

  “The Matayans, they–” The grief she’d suppressed came back on her so suddenly that she couldn’t talk anymore. Shock and fatigue gave way to tears that streamed from her eyes. She had to turn away and shudder to keep from sobbing.

  Her legs threatened to give out from under her.

  Baeven put an arm around her before she collapsed. She leaned against his solid bulk and wept for all she was worth.

  He stroked her hair. “Mourn those you love, Naero. For their memory, for the loss of their blood. Never forget them. They live in our hearts now, and in you.”

  Images of her mother and father throughout her life flashed through her mind. Baeven held her for a long time. She finally realized that they were leaning against the wall of the medical section still, and pulled away from him.

  Be an adult. Live with it. Go forward.

  “You must think I’m pretty childish,” she said. Then she looked at Baeven. His eyes were red too.

  Aunt Sleak had said that he and her mother were close once.

  “My mother,” she said. “Did you love her?”

  “Yes,” he said, without hesitation. His demeanor saddened. “I am...an old friend of the family, after all.”

  He sighed deeply. “At one time Lythe and I were very close, when we were young. When we knew little of the universe that lay around us–like some predatory thing. I would have given my life for her. In my own strange way… I’m still doing so.”

  He turned away and bowed his head. “I enlisted in Spacer Intel at a young age and volunteered to train with the Mystics, against the will of my family. My work drove me away from everyone. Things happened. I was exiled. We never spoke again or met. I’d heard she had married well, and had two children. I was happy for her. That she knew such a life as I never could.

  “Then I discovered that she and Spacer Intel were embroiled in this business. I took an interest in the affair, but I was too late to help her, or your father and their people. I’m sorry.”

  Naero took his hand.

  He raised his head and smiled proudly. “From what I have learned, your parents fought and died bravely, taking many foes down with them.”

  “I can’t see why Aunt Sleak hates you so much.” Yet Baeven was so hard to get a handle on. He even smelled different each time she met him, using different colognes.

  He looked at her and his gaze hardened. “Perhaps she knows me better, Naero. Perhaps you will hate me one day as well. We are in a difficult place, with few options. I have hard choices to make. Choices that will affect the lives of trillions of beings, and not only our own people. The costs of another Spacer War may only be the beginning.”

  The absolute severity and certainty of his words made her shudder. “I don’t understand most of this mess. I don’t even know if I want to, but if I can help in any way, I will.”

  “One way or another, I think you’ll have to. But understand this: We are all expendable. If the time ever comes when I must sacrifice you, your friends, or even myself, please try to understand that I will do whatever I must.”

  For who?

  I cannot trust this one.

  Om, I’m not sure anyone can.

  Naero understood that she had been born into a hard world of metal and plasteel, of extremes o
f cold and heat.

  Spacers were born to rise to the challenge, and still maintain their humanity.

  Somehow, she felt that all of those harsh extremes were multiplied tenfold for this enigmatic stranger, who by his own choices made himself an outlaw and a pariah.

  “My mother once told me that the most dangerous enemy to have is one who is completely convinced that what he or she is doing is right, because they are utterly ruthless.”

  Baeven looked off and smiled sadly. Then he nodded. “Lythe was right, Naero. Your mother was very, very right. But then she usually was.”

  He walked away, his hands clasped behind his back. “But doing the right thing is not always what you should do, or what you need to do. They can be completely different things.”

  He seemed to have an insight suddenly.

  “I think I know where to go to find out whether you carry the Kexxian Matrix or not. But as usual, it’s going to be difficult, and very risky.”

  “We need to know. Too bad Jan isn’t with us.”

  “I’ll handle the arrangements. Just make sure that the Matayan and the lander don’t cause any trouble. I’ll shove them out an airlock if they do.”

  She laughed at first, but then she realized, as before:

  Baeven meant every word.

  26

  Naero drew random duty to perform a weapons check on the ship’s armory.

  Drudge work.

  She sat alone in the maintenance area late that night, several racks of pistols and assault weapons lined up in neat rows on their cart racks with their magnetic wheels locked.

  One by one she placed a weapon down on the padded workbench before her.

  Despite feeling a little overwhelmed by everything, she methodically checked each weapon’s function, broke it down, cleaned it with solvent, lubricated it if need be, and put it back together.

  She checked its action a second time before setting it back on its rack as finished.

  Standard khotguns, needleguns, and delta class blasters. She could service such weapons in her sleep.

  But after the fifth sidearm she yawned and blinked.

  Gallan showed up with two big frosty borbbles of Jett, her favorite rich, black, fruity lix, imported from Arnett Corps space.

  Her best friend knew her and her weakness for Jett very well.

  “Need some help? It’s been a long day.”

  “Haisha, it’s been a long month.”

  “Thought you could use a little something.”

  She rubbed her eyes and half-smiled up at him. He set one of the borbbles down in front of her.

  “Where in the hell did you find Jett in Triaxian space?” she asked.

  “It’s a treat. I asked Baeven to procure us some back on Egano-4. The man has his sources.”

  “Yes indeed.” She gulped down half of her borbble in one long, luxurious cold draught.

  She sighed for a long contented moment and then rolled her eyes in appreciation. “That is so good. Thanks, my friend.”

  Gallan picked up the next pistol to be checked. “No damage. I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d hunt you out. Baeven’s on the bridge.”

  They cleaned weapons and drank for a while, no further reason to say much of anything. They finished the sidearms and moved on to the assault weapons.

  Gallan worked on a tri-barrel khotgun that had some old corrosion in the barrels. “I’m sorry we never got a chance to talk more about your parents, Naero. I was there for you; I just didn’t know what to say.”

  She nodded. “I know you were, abani. What was there to say? No one had any control over it. Now they’re gone, and Jan, me, and you are all over our heads in deep shit.”

  Gallan laughed. “What clued you in on that?”

  “Shut up, skuthead. I’m serious. The Corps are all after us hard, and we’re running with an outcast. I’d say we’re in pretty deep.”

  He finished a long drink of Jett. “I’m still not convinced we can trust anyone yet.”

  “Me either. Baeven has his own mysterious agenda and says so outright, but he’s the best ticket we have right now. Ellis is a Matayan, of course.”

  Gallan’s face darkened somewhat.

  “You stare at that one a little too much, Naero. It shows, and that’s not good.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

  Naero avoided the issue. “Tarim’s just a kid. I think he’s pretty harmless.”

  “He’s older than you by almost a year; he’s just malnourished.”

  “He’s survived in his world, that counts for something. But there’s a lot he doesn’t know.”

  “He’s eager to learn. He needs to find something he’s good at. What he really needs is to stop acting like a beaten down slave.”

  “That might take some time,” Naero said. “You and I can’t relate. That’s all he knows. It might be a hard cage to escape, even with the door open.” She picked up the next blaster rifle.

  “Well, he’s a survivor. There’s hope for him, at least. But who knows how long any of us are going to last, or what it’s going to take at this rate.”

  They went quiet again for a while.

  Then Naero reached out suddenly and put her hand on Gallan’s forearm. “I’m going to say this now while we have the chance, abani. I never got to say anything to my folks before I lost them, and I regret that. We might make this run, and then again, we might not. There’s a lot stacked against us. But if I’m on a hot run, then I’m glad you’re with me. You’ve always been a good friend to me, and I honor and cherish that. I know that I can trust you, and count on you no matter what, my brother. I hope you feel the same about me.”

  “You don’t even need to ask,” Gallan said. “All we can do is give it our best juice, N. If they take us down, we won’t make it easy for them if it comes to that. We’ll go down fighting. Let’s just be smart about it.”

  “I’m trying.” Naero raised her borbble with its last swallow of Jett. “Max it,” she told him.

  Gallan drained his borbble with her.

  With the mild boost from the Jett reviving them, they made more small talk, and short work of cleaning the rest of the weapons before turning in.

  For the first time in many days, Naero felt better. At least with Gallan around she had one person she could count on completely.

  That meant more than she could say.

  When she slept that night, she had another one of her strange dreams.

  Living snakes of dark and light energy gnawed their way out of her flesh and fought with each other, crisscrossing and entwining, while she convulsed violently.

  A demonic, red glowing head layered in roving eyes glared at her and spoke harshly.

  You are indeed a serious threat. We will find you. You may very well need to be destroyed.

  Her mouth open, unable to scream. Her eyes rolled back white.

  They glowed suddenly with blue white energy, so bright it blotted out all else. Her third eye flared back up briefly.

  And then they all went black.

  Blacker than the Abyss itself.

  Naero woke with a start.

  She’s been having nightmares almost every night since she went nuts. They continued to get worse, and crazier by the day. Who were the entities in her dreams? Fragments of her own personality, imagination, and fears given form?

  Om, can’t you do anything about these dreams, these crazy visions?

  Impossible. I cannot access certain parts of your mind. They are blocked. Just like my defensive protocols. I continue to try.

  *

  Baeven informed them that they would remain in jump for almost two weeks.

  That would to give the Triaxians and anyone else looking for them absolute fits.

  Naero learned her cover identities well, including the one for their current ship: a second mate named Krellin.

  Their tiny Lidoma merchant craft only required two crew to operate it. It was even smaller than The
Ardala. Baeven’s security measures would mask their Spacer genetics and not reveal other lifeforms on board to any type of scan.

  Baeven had them on a long-range cargo run of spices and crystals way out to Jodien-2 and beyond, eventually heading into Matashi Corps space, even farther away from the Free Space Zones of the Spacer Clans.

  She and Gallan divided their free time between Tarim and Ellis, both of them still restricted to quarters.

  Gallan tolerated the Matayan, for her sake.

  From the outset, Ellis assumed an almost instinctive dislike of Tarim, and readily seized every opportunity to treat him as inferior. They did not get along in the least, and it was mostly Ellis’ fault.

  That did not earn him any points in Naero’s book, even though she had her own misguided prejudices about landers.

  At least she made an attempt to get past those prejudices.

  She kept the two young men apart whenever possible.

  Tarim, on the other hand, took to Gallan’s easy-going nature right away and they became fast friends.

  But he definitely had it bad for Naero.

  She tried to discourage him without being unfriendly, but he seemed oblivious to her efforts.

  The way of infatuation and obsession we’re indeed mysterious.

  Fortunately, she and Gallan kept Tarim busy developing other interests.

  For the first time in his life, the lander found himself surrounded by a wealth of knowledge and instruction. For days he hardly slept, reading, learning, practicing–trying out whatever caught his fancy.

  Baeven ignored the Matayan completely, and generally avoided Tarim and his tiresome questions from the outset.

  To Baeven, they were nothing but annoying distractions.

  Even Naero and Gallan had to shut Tarim down at times.

  He kept the tired old simulators on the ship very busy, and ignored even Ellis’s withering ridicule.

  More than his infatuation with Naero, even, the lander seemed obsessed with making himself useful, perhaps in an attempt to impress her.

  Whatever his motivation, he worked hard at bettering himself. Naero couldn’t help admiring that.

  She and Gallan worked out and sparred with Baeven each day.