The universe within the portal seemed to contract and then expand, as if taking a breath.
Chapter 23
“Where are we?” Jira asked, standing up slowly, her eyes wide. The Oro Yurei reduced its speed, coasting through space.
Flustered, Baltasar brought up the ship’s navcharts. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “This isn’t where the portal was supposed to go. The navchart says… says..”
“What?”
“We’re back where we started,” Baltasar said, turning his head to stare at Conrad.
“Pac Ishi,” said Conrad. It was a statement, not a question.
“Yes,” Baltasar responded. “How is that possible?”
“I brought us here,” Conrad said, still in a daze.
Jira, Baltasar, and Argus all stared at him.
“It’ll take too long to explain. We need to repair the ship and get back home,” he said, shaking himself out of his trance.
“No,” said Jira, reading the navchart over Baltasar’s shoulder. “That was no trick. We’re actually here. It should have taken us more than five jumps to get this far away from Albion Prime. How?”
Conrad turned, looking at her straight on. “I’ll trade you,” he said. “A truth for a truth. Who are you really, and who do you work for?”
She stared back at him. Conrad held her gaze without blinking.
Finally, she seemed to give in, crossing her arms. “We’ve come this far. And they seem to be keen on killing you. Those are all promising signs,” she said wryly.
Jira paused, collecting her thoughts. “I’m from Cadero X,” she said. “That’s no lie. I was born there, under Imperial rule. The Empire conquered Cadero a generation ago, but we haven’t forgotten what it means to be free. My parents sent me away to keep me safe from the Empire. I spent my youth off-world. I joined the Federation when I was twelve. They trained me in combat, data infiltration, and espionage.”
“The Federation?” Conrad asked.
“Malcontents,” Baltasar cut in. “Dissidents. Ask the average citizen and they’ll say the Federation’s just a rumor, or a bogeyman.”
“They’re wrong,” Jira said firmly. “The Federation is real. At least it is out here. But even in the heart of the Empire there are people who oppose the Satori—who resist tyranny. Who despise what they do to the sentient species they come across. They say they’re securing the galaxy to make it safe for humanity, but what they do to non-humans is nothing short of genocide.”
“Except the Vehn,” Baltasar interrupted. “No one minds if the Vehn go extinct. Would you mind? I wouldn’t mind.”
“Did the Federation send you to Albion Prime?” asked Conrad.
She flicked her braid over her shoulder. “Yes. My parents were from the fifth ruling house on Cadero. Cadero had to send a tribute eventually, and that includes a royal concubine. They asked me if I was willing and I agreed to go. It was the duty I’d been training for my whole life.”
“What was your mission?”
She extracted the datapiece from its port and held it in front of her. “You and I were after the same thing,” she said.
“Not exactly,” Conrad replied.
“Navcharts?” she said, skeptical. “Is it true that all you really wanted were navcharts?”
“You were after tactical data,” he said. “Military bases and supply lines. But I didn’t lie to you. We just want to go back home.”
She put the datapiece back into the port. “If the Empire knows where your system is, it would have conquered it already. If it’s not on the navchart, then they don’t know where it is. What’s the name of your world, anyway?”
Conrad glanced at Argus, who nodded back.
“Sanctuary,” he said.
“I’ve never heard of a planet or a system by that name,” said Jira.
The screen above the data port was showing the datapiece’s stolen contents in graphical form, navcharts flashing one after another at lightning pace. She was watching its output, barely blinking.
“What are you doing?”
“Learning the navcharts. The maps.” The navchart images sped up. She reached under the images, checking the feed.
Conrad blinked. “I can barely see them, they’re going so fast,” he said.
“Eidetic memory,” she explained. “It’s common among Caderans. And it’s very useful for covert operations. How do you think I knew where to go in the palace? I saw three internal diagrams, and I memorized everything on sight. That was all I needed.”
Conrad whistled. “So after you’ve seen all these navcharts…”
“… I won’t need the datapiece ever again.” Jira turned back to the navcharts. “Ah, it’s coming along. Of course, the Federation can use the datapiece. But now I’ve got a backup in here.” She tapped her head.
Navchart images displayed for another five minutes as Conrad watched. What Jira had told him gave him hope and fear at the same time. On the one hand it was heartening to know there was an organized opposition to the power of the Empire. But on the other hand, it was clear that no one had triumphed against the Empire yet.
What kind of chance does Sanctuary have against that kind of power?
“There,” she said, as the images disappeared. “That’s enough for now. I’ve got enough targets to keep the Federation busy for the next three centuries.”
“No sign of Sanctuary?” he asked. “None?”
She shook her head. “Not by that name,” she said again. “But there’s a massive amount of historical data in there, and some of it’s garbled. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask. If you can control the portals, why don’t you just… go back to where you came from?”
“It’s not so simple,” he said. “I don’t control the portal. I choose where to go… but I don’t even have complete control of that. I only managed to get the ship to Pac Ishi because we’d just been here, and it… felt familiar to me. But I still don’t know if I can get us safely home to Sanctuary. Yet.”
“What does your system look like, anyway? Is there any data you can give me?”
“Our original ship crashed on Pac Ishi,” he said. “There’s nothing left to salvage from the data banks.”
Argus growled softly from across the cabin. He was lying on his backas Baltasar worked on repairing his wound, packing it with healing gel. “That’s not quite true,” he rumbled, and pointed to the back of the ship with the tip of his tail.
“The memory core,” Conrad said, sitting up suddenly. “Argus saved it!”
Conrad quickly walked to the back of the Oro Yurei, opening the storage bay closest to the cockpit. There it was: a round, black-streaked box. He carried it to Jira. She picked it up, looking it over with a curious eye.
“I’ve never seen a memory core like this,” she murmured, turning it over in her hands. “And I’ve been trained to work with all Imperial data types. This is very primitive technology.”
“That should make it easy to break into, then,” he said.
She paused. “If I do this, will you tell me how you brought us here?” she asked.
“I’ll tell you everything I know,” he promised.
They had been in orbit around Pac Ishi for twenty-two hours.
Argus was still sprawled on the cabin floor, sleeping. Baltasar leaned against his side, snoring softly.
Conrad was half awake, his eye on the snowy planet below. Expert programmer that she was, Jira had managed to connect the La Paz’s memory core to the Oro Yurei’s AI nucleus. It’s going to give the ship a bit of an identity crisis, she’d warned him. Since then the AI had been processing the data in silence, knitting together the navcharts and starmaps into a unified whole, adding the standard Corps memories and data into its own databanks.
And hopefully finding some link between them, Conrad thought. He half-opened an eyelid to look at Jira, who had draped herself over her chair. Her chest rose and fell as she slept. Two years of luxury in the Imperial palace had apparently failed to
override her soldier’s training. Soldiers were the same anywhere in the universe, he reflected. Any chance they got to sleep—they slept.
I should be sleeping now. Yet he could not help gazing into the darkness beyond, wondering in what direction Sanctuary could be found. The intelligence he’d gathered since escaping the Vehn was critical to Sanctuary’s survival.
If the Empire came to their quadrant, it would mean the end of Sanctuary’s tolerance and acceptance of alien species. The Council would be dissolved, and the Protectorate Corps would be devastated. It would be the end of the world that had rescued him as an orphan, raised him and given him purpose.
He had seen enough of the Fleet and Albion Prime to know it would be a catastrophe for the Protectorate Corps to engage with the Imperial Fleet. At least for now.
I need to find out more before I go back. He looked at Jira. And there were allies to consider, even if they were few and desperate.
The console beeped softly. She stirred, opening an eye.
“Returning the favor?” she asked, lifting her head.
“What?” Conrad said, startled. “I didn’t know you were—”
“Don’t trouble yourself,” she said, smiling after a slow yawn. “Back at the palace, I spied on you while you were sleeping. It’s only fair that you get a chance to do the same.”
“Oh yeah,” Conrad said. “You’re a weirdo.”
“What’s a weirdo?” She looked at him curiously.
“A, uh, very beautiful woman,” he said. “Local jargon.”
“You think I look beautiful?” Bright spots of red appeared on her cheeks. She self-consciously touched her braid.
Inwardly, Conrad cursed. What the hell are you getting yourself into, Redeker?
“I think you look like a weirdo,” he said, trying to keep a straight face.
She smiled. “You know, I never did thank you for getting me out of the hell that was the palace,” she said.
He waved it off. “You don’t have to thank me—”
She fiddled with her ear, removing a single teardrop earring. She held it out to him. “For you,” she said. “Keep it. If you ever need me—or if you need something to blow up the next time you’re on Albion Prime.”
Conrad grinned. “I’ve got no plans to ever go back there,” he said. She took his hand and placed the earring in his palm.
On impulse, he closed his hand around hers. She looked at him, her green eyes wide and startled. For a moment, it seemed as if the universe slowed to a halt.
The console beeped. The spell was broken. Jira turned her head.
“Conrad,” she said, pulling her hand away to reach for the screen. “The AI found something.”
Conrad stood up. “What is it?”
“A fragment of an ancient navchart. One so old it’s classified as a legend and a rumor. It’s so fragmented and rotted it’s practically useless. But it matches the starmap from your old ship’s memory banks. Only here, the planet’s not called Sanctuary. It’s called Earth.”
Conrad’s heart began to pound. “Earth?”
She turned her head, her brow furrowed. “Does that mean anything to you?”
“My world wasn’t always called Sanctuary,” said Conrad. “The planet was called Earth once. They came up with the name of Sanctuary when aliens started pouring into our system, looking for a place to live. Eventually our whole star system came to be known as Sanctuary.”
Conrad touched the console. “Do the Satori know about Earth?”
Chapter 24
Jira was about to speak when the ship’s proximity alarms began to sound. Argus roared and Baltasar scrambled up from the floor.
“What was that?” the medic-mechanic panted, running a nervous hand through his close-cropped hair.
“There’s a ship headed straight for us at top speed,” Jira said, leaning over the console. “It’s got an Imperial energy signature.”
“The Secace,” Conrad muttered. It had to be the Secace. If Heik had come to Pac Ishi to investigate the storehouse, he would have found the remains of the La Paz.
“We need to get back into the portal,” he said. “I’m setting in a course now—”
“It’s directly between us and the portal,” she said. “Why doesn’t this ship have a single weapon on board?” she lamented.
Argus settled into the copilot’s seat. “You can help by telling me where to go after we hit the portal,” he said to Jira. “Balt, where does this portal lead?”
“Escaton VI,” said Baltasar. “We passed through it on our way to Albion Prime.”
“There’s an ansible just inside the Escaton system,” Jira exclaimed. “If we can get there, we can send a message to the Federation.”
“What can they do?” Conrad asked.
“More than we can do when we’re up against that, all by ourselves.” An image of the Secace appeared on the edge of the holographic field.
“Too close,” Conrad said. “I’ll get us around the planet. I’ll try to get us out of sight if I can. Argus—give me status updates on the ship. Keep her systems going while I fly.”
“Understood,” Argus affirmed.
The Oro Yurei soared over the Pac Ishi’s pole, pulling out of orbit around the ice planet. The Secace loomed behind them. The Imperial ship began to fire, the first volley missing them. Another volley raked the ship’s starboard side.
Conrad twisted his hands, rolling the Oro out of the line of fire.
“We’ve got no weapons, no shields,” he shouted. “What have I got to work with here?”
“Shields!” Jira said. “I can give you shields.”
She pushed herself between Argus and Conrad. Her fingers moved quickly over the systems console. “I can do this,” she chanted softly. “I can take the power output of the thrusters and recycle it. Use the ship’s magnetic stabilizers and create the field around it. I can do this.”
A bright light shot out over the cockpit window and through the darkness of space. It exploded above Pac Ishi.
“Missiles,” Baltasar said, panicked.
Conrad spun the ship around and moved her backward, toward the Secace.
“What are you doing?” Baltasar shouted. “We’re trying to get away from that butcher!”
“They’re not expecting this,” he said.
The Secace banked to the right, narrowly avoiding the Oro as it flew through the space it had occupied only seconds before.
The path to the portal was clear.
“I need all the power you can get me, Argus,” Conrad shouted. “Just one more time!”
Argus bellowed as he pushed the ship to its breaking point once more, the ship vibrating with energy as it slammed through the portal at top speed.
There was the same familiar pause in time and space as the Oro Yurei entered the portal.
But this time, Conrad held himself back. This was not the time to try and interact with the portal. He did everything he could to keep his emotions under control. He closed his eyes and opened them again. They were in the Escaton system now, as Baltasar had promised.
“Transmitting distress signal to ansible now,” he heard Jira say.
He refocused, his consciousness dropping back into reality. “Where’s the Secace?”
“Hasn’t come through the portal yet,” said Argus.
“I’m putting as much space as possible between us,” Conrad said. “We’re staying on current course and maintaining speed.”
The Oro was still vibrating. There was no telling how far the ship could go at its top speed. He knew next to nothing about Satori ship construction or design. “Balt,” he said, “how long can we—”
“The Secace is through,” Argus barked. He scanned their surroundings quickly. “We’re in an asteroid field.”
Conrad glanced at the long range scanners. It was a young asteroid field. The asteroids were hundreds of kilometers apart—easy enough to fly around, even more so for a small ship like the Oro Yurei. But he harbored no illusions that
the field would stop Heik from pursuing them.
“Expand the scan,” he ordered Argus. “What else have we got out here?”
Argus complied. Conrad felt his heartbeat skip a beat when he saw the readings.
“There’s a nebula overlapping the edge of this field,” he said. “I’m taking us in.”
The Oro suddenly rocked as a missile nicked a rear nacelle.
“Jira—shields!”
“Almost done,” she said, chewing her lip. “I need two more minutes.”
“This ship could be dust in one more minute,” he said. He felt the Oro shudder around them. There was no telling how much damage that missile had done to the rear nacelle. He slowed the ship down by one increment and the shuddering faded.
I’ve got to get us to that nebula. Inside, the Oro had a better shot at avoiding the larger, less maneuverable Imperial frigate.
Another blast rocked the Oro.
She’s holding out better than the La Paz would have. It was only slightly reassuring. Conrad knew it couldn’t last.
A soft burst of static seemed to explode within the ship and dissipated a second later. “Shields are up,” said Jira triumphantly. “They’ll deflect anything less powerful than a missile.”
“Does this slow us down?” Argus was looking at the power readings.
“You can’t have it all,” Conrad muttered. He could feel the ship losing speed.
“If you push too hard you’ll blow out our thrusters,” Jira warned him. “Shields or top speed—make your choice.”
Conrad couldn’t tear his eyes away from the display. The Secace was gaining fast.
“Sorry, girl,” he muttered to the ship and dropped the power to the shields, increasing speed.
The ship soared into the nebula, clouds of dust and gas swirling around the ship’s battleworn hulls.
“Argus, find me an asteroid,” he ordered. “We’ve got a minute to find someplace to hide.”
“And we’d better find it fast,” Jira cautioned. “They’re still in pursuit.”
Argus scanned their surroundings. Nebulas were impossible to see with human eyes, but this one was like none they’d ever seen in their own quadrant. It surrounded the Oro Yurei like smoke.
Sanctuary's Soldier: The Darkspace Saga Book 1 Page 15
