Into the Dark

by Claudia Gray

  All true, and yet when he thought about Nan and Hague, he still saw a sweet young woman with a round face and shining dark hair, and an elderly man who used a cane to walk.

  Their story might be more complex. Could they be under the control of the Nihil, serving the group against their will? From some of the briefings, Reath remembered that the Nihil were famous for threatening certain planetary authorities, forcing them to turn a blind eye to their marauding or pay enormous ransoms. If the Nihil could intimidate an entire world’s government, they could easily force two vulnerable people into doing their bidding.

  Maybe we’ve come here to arrest them, Reath realized. Or maybe we’ve come here to set them free.

  “Dropping out of hyperspace in five!” Leox shouted over the creaking of the jittery Vessel. “Four! Three!”

  Reath grabbed the straps of his safety harness, as did the other Jedi.

  “Two! And one!”

  The Vessel shuddered, then shifted into the smooth rush of normal flight. Every one of the Jedi breathed out in relief. Wryly, Cohmac Vitus said, “The easy part is over.”

  From the bridge, Leox called, “You can say that again.”

  The others exchanged glances. Reath was the one who asked, “Why do you say that?”

  “I say that,” Leox replied, “because we’ve got a full Nihil Storm on the other side of that station, and it’s carrying enough firepower to turn us back to stardust.”

  Affie had heard of the Nihil. Had seen holos and on-screen images of their warships, their poison gas attacks, and the horrific damage they left behind. They’d destroyed Guild ships—not many, but enough for her to be aware of the devastating losses of life.

  None of it had prepared her for the sheer terror of seeing one of their massive warships with her own eyes.

  Like Nan and Hague’s ship, it was a patchwork of other ship sections and parts, different metals and shapes and aesthetics all savagely jammed together. But the Nihil warship wasn’t simply bigger; it was infinitely more dangerous. Weaponry ports riddled the hull from every crevice and angle. There was no safe approach to one of these ships, and no outgunning it. Combine that with the knowledge that the warship could split apart into component ships and suddenly surround them—

  Affie didn’t want to think about that anymore.

  Leox reacted instantly, slapping the controls that would take the engines down to their lowest active setting and turn off all unnecessary systems. Even the running lights went dark. The interior of the Vessel might as well have been illuminated by candles.

  “They’ll still see us,” Affie said. Her hands remained frozen on the console.

  “But it’ll take ’em longer, and that gives us time to do this.”

  Leox used the smallest bit of thrust to tilt their course down and sideways—just behind a bit of random space detritus, an asteroid so tiny it was barely bigger than the Vessel. “Let’s tether that.”

  Already Affie had realized what he was aiming at. “Got it.”

  She activated a magnetic tether towline, hoping the asteroid’s makeup contained enough metal for it to work. A small vibration signaled that it had. Affie exhaled in relief as they floated along, shielded by an asteroid that would obscure them from the Nihil’s view. If they scanned the area, they’d just think the asteroid was a little bit bigger and a whole lot more metallic. Any life signs would probably be written off as mynocks.

  By this point, the Jedi had crowded around the door of the bridge. Cohmac spoke first: “Well done.”

  “But we can’t stay here forever,” added Orla. “Do we wait until they’ve left to go to the station?”

  “We can’t.” Reath’s eyes were wide at the size of the Nihil ship, but he sounded determined. “When the Nihil leave, they’ll take Nan and Hague with them, and we’ll learn nothing.”

  Cohmac folded his hands together. “The repercussions could be yet worse. Whatever darkness is aboard that station—depending on the form it takes, the Nihil could potentially claim it for their own.”

  “The Nihil aren’t hooked up to the station itself yet,” Leox mused. “Just Hague and Nan. The ion trails indicate they’ve been here for a few hours at least. Right now, they’re just orbiting.”

  “Why haven’t they docked?” Affie asked.

  Leox shrugged. “My guess is they’ve seen readings like these.” He tapped the console. Only then did Affie spy the readings that suggested more gigantic solar flares might be coming. Not immediately…but too soon for comfort. Leox continued, “Most likely the Nihil want to stay flexible. Leave their options open in case they need to skedaddle.”

  Cohmac Vitus folded his hands together. “That suggests the Nihil either do not have top-of-the-line sensors that would allow them to be more precise about solar flares, or that their docking procedure takes more time than most ships would. It would be excellent if we could discover which—though, of course, that is not our priority at this time.”

  The Jedi had remained calm enough to think through the fuller implications of the Nihil’s actions. Affie was unwillingly impressed.

  As the Nihil ship continued its slow arc around the Amaxine station, codes started rolling from the navigational station. Leox grinned. “Aw, yeah. I see what you’re thinking, Geode. Now that’s a plan.”

  Affie got it, too, but she couldn’t be as enthusiastic. “This is insanely dangerous.”

  “Yeah,” Leox said. “But it’s gonna be cool as hell.”

  They wouldn’t be able to use their engines; if they powered them up enough to accelerate as fast as they’d need to, the Nihil would spot the energy surge in an instant. But if they expelled some spare fuel, that would push the ship forward to the Amaxine station. The speed would be adequate—if and only if they managed the maneuver with split-second timing.

  With anyone else but Leox and Geode, Affie would’ve assumed this tactic was a death sentence. As it was, she strapped on her safety harness and got ready.

  Once the Nihil ship orbited to the far side of the Amaxine station, both spacecraft were briefly invisible to each other. The Vessel dropped its tether, maneuvered at half power around the asteroid and—

  “Light her up,” Leox said.

  Affie hit the emergency fuel eject. Instantly the Vessel zoomed forward. Geode’s coordinates kept them aimed squarely at their target. Still, even knowing exactly what was happening, Affie couldn’t help holding her breath.

  At the last instant before collision would’ve become inevitable, Leox fired the engines just enough to work against the remaining propulsion of their fuel dump. That brought the ship to a near standstill, turning the slightest bit until—

  “There,” he murmured. “We’re in orbit, just like the Nihil. Same speed. We can’t see them, but they can’t see us, which is the main thing.”

  “Great work,” said Orla Jareni, but her expression was rueful. “However, I’d argue that the main thing is—we somehow have to board a space station without docking. Any ideas on how we’re going to manage that?”

  As it turned out, there was always a way. Not necessarily a safe way. But none of them had come back to the Amaxine station to play it safe.

  Orla adjusted her exosuit, pleased to have one that actually fit. Reath and Affie did, as well, but Cohmac had to make do with one that was far too large. Normally that would create an unacceptable risk of puncture, but this was an urgent situation, and at least they weren’t traveling far.

  A large case sat near Affie’s feet, one she seemed intent on taking with them. “What’s that?”

  “Oh, just—” Affie hesitated. “It’s something I need to make records of the smugglers’ code on the station. I want to figure that out.”

  Reath shook his head. “Affie, there are Nihil on that station. Not to mention the vines and the Aytees. It’s too dangerous to go there only for research.” Then, to himself, he muttered, “I can’t believe I just insulted research.”

  “I don’t work for the Jedi,” Affie snapped back.
“I mean, I do as the Vessel’s copilot, but once we get where we’re going? I’m on my own. Which means I’m boarding the Amaxine station whether you guys do or not.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Orla said. In truth, she wanted to argue, but the girl had a point. They lacked any way of stopping her other than physical force, which was the last thing any of them needed. Besides, Geode stood behind Affie, glowering as if daring anyone to oppose his friend’s will. “Come on, everyone. Let’s get moving.”

  Minutes later, all four members of the landing party were assembled at the airlock. On the count, Leox released the pressure valves. Metal plates spiraled open, exposing them to the frigid void of space. Gravity released them so they bobbed weightlessly within the hatch. Instead of hearing the usual hiss of lock meeting lock, Orla was instantly enveloped in total silence.

  Several meters below their feet lay the scrolling surface of the Amaxine station.

  “We should be coming up on the airlocks within forty-five seconds,” said Cohmac, via helmet comms. “On my count.”

  Synchronization was essential. Orla readied her handheld thruster and got into position with the rest.

  Cohmac’s deep voice came through the comms: “Three—two—one.”

  Orla fired the thruster, allowing its momentum to push her forward, out of the Vessel’s airlock and toward the station’s surface. She had her magnetic clamps ready even before her feet made contact. Instantly she latched on. Got it.

  Everyone else managed it, too, with varying degrees of grace. Then they all edged together toward the nearby airlock. Reath was the one who grabbed the manual handle from the outside and spun it to open. As the doors slid wide, they all maneuvered their way into the airlock.

  Now, Orla thought, for the tricky part.

  On cue, the Vessel released its cargo bay doors. Out drifted its contents: the idols, tethered together with basic cargo cords. For one moment they floated free in zero G, and Orla could imagine them flying: the insect, the bird, the queen, the amphibian.

  But they could not be allowed to go far. She lifted her hand at the same moment Cohmac and Reath did; as one, they reached out with the Force, bringing the idols closer. The four golden shapes floated nearer and nearer, until the Jedi were able to maneuver them within the airlock, as well. She pushed them to one side—she didn’t want those things overhead when the gravity came back on—managing it just before the doors shut again.

  For an instant they floated in total darkness. Then lights came on, gravity tugged at them again, and the telltale hiss of air grew louder and louder. The idols landed with an enormous thud. As atmosphere continued filling the space, Cohmac said, “Well done, everyone. We made it.”

  Orla grinned, but couldn’t help adding, “And now, for our reward—mortal danger.”

  The station doors slid open, revealing the jungle.

  Cohmac removed his helmet as soon as he could. The warm, almost steamy air of the station surrounded him, along with the familiar smells of soil and flowers. An 8-T rolled by, paused, apparently concluded he represented no threat to weeding, and continued on its way.

  He began stripping off his exosuit, relieved to be rid of its shapeless, unwieldy bulk. Their eventual escape might be quicker if they kept the suits on—but that would make all their tasks more difficult to perform, forcing them to stay on the Amaxine station longer. Every moment they remained was another moment the Nihil could become aware of their presence.

  “I’m heading to the storage facilities in the upper rings,” announced Affie, who’d already shaken off the exosuit and stood there in her Guild coverall. “You guys do whatever you need to do. I won’t let them see me. Should be ready to go within ten minutes or so.”

  “We may well take longer,” Cohmac warned. “Be careful.”

  Affie nodded, then hurried off through the greenery to whatever task she’d set herself.

  The Jedi were alone. As they set to work moving the idols back into a central location near the stone seat, Orla said, “Do you feel it?”

  “Oh, yes.” Cohmac could sense the darkness pressing in on him from every direction, as if trying to compress his body down to bone. “It’s as if the darkness knows the idols have returned.”

  “That energy—it can’t fall into the hands of the Nihil,” Reath said quietly.

  Cohmac held up a cautionary hand. “Do not reveal your presence if you can possibly help it.” There was no knowing exactly where the two Nihil were on the station, or what they might be doing. “But seek out any evidence of their activities since we departed. We must know what their plans have been before we can know how to counter them.”

  Reath nodded as he set aside his exosuit helmet. “Nan was sneaking around in the lower tunnels. That’s probably where I should start.”

  Cohmac nodded. He didn’t like letting an apprentice go into such a hazardous situation alone, but he and Orla would have to give all their power to the effort that lay ahead. Reath could be shielded from that danger, but no others.

  “The visions we had before,” Orla said, frowning. “There’s something about them—”

  “What?” Cohmac had taken them as no more than nightmares generated by the nearness of so much negative energy.

  “Something familiar, when it wasn’t before.” Orla paused, then shook her head. “I can’t explain it yet.”

  “Whatever answers we can get, we need soon.” With that Cohmac walked into the station, Orla at his side, readying himself for whatever came.

  How did these tunnels get even darker?

  Nothing could be blacker than black, but it seemed to Reath this particular blackness had really, really tried. He made his way forward very slowly, setting each foot down silently. The beam from his glow rod illuminated only the thinnest sliver of the curving walls around him.

  Before long he found the circular hatch where Dez had died, which led to the path he and Nan had traveled down before. At that time, Reath had been looking for answers about Dez. He no longer trusted Nan’s explanation for why she’d been there. What had she really been after? Whatever it was, he’d probably kept her from it.

  Time to figure it out. Hague and Nan had clearly had a secret agenda throughout their stay on the station, and Reath didn’t intend to let it slip by him again. If he managed to confront and arrest them, he intended to hold them responsible for everything they’d done.

  Cautiously, Reath spun the hatch open and eased his way through, reminding himself, Be careful about the helix rings—

  I don’t actually see the helix rings—

  Since when is this tunnel white inside?

  The hatch slammed shut.

  Reath wheeled around and tried to push it open again, but no. Through the thin slits of the door, he saw no light or movement; nobody was out there. Whatever had happened with the hatch was automatic. But an automated system could kill him as surely as any being’s malice.

  Even worse than the locked door was the realization that the tunnel he’d entered was no longer a tunnel. It was much smaller—pale inside, almost like some kind of a cell—

  Everything shifted, vibrated, changed. Reath was thrown backward as light suddenly filled the tiny space, and he found himself in a room that had to be intended for a prisoner. The small seat molded in the back, the thin windows…

  Reath’s eyes widened. He saw that not all the light surrounding him was coming from within the pod. Some came from outside—and it was the unmistakable electric blue of hyperspace.

  This isn’t for a prisoner, he realized. It’s for a passenger.

  Where the hell am I going?

  And how am I ever going to get back?

  A deep shudder-shiver within the station froze Affie where she stood. What was that?

  She moved to the nearest corner, wedged her back into it, and kept her blaster at the ready. Her instinct told her that what she’d heard wasn’t the work of the Jedi, the Nihil, or even the 8-Ts—that it had been mechanical movement deep within the workings
of the station itself.

  An airlock being blown? No, if that were it, they’d already be fatally depressurizing. The Nihil warship docking with the Amaxine station? Affie wasn’t even sure that was possible. She hoped not, anyway. If that happened, it would take many, many more Jedi to save them than they had on hand.

  The sound was vaguely familiar to her. It took Affie a few seconds to place it before she realized she’d heard something very like that when Dez Rydan was killed.

  Had Reath blown himself up? She hoped not—she’d become fonder of him than she’d expected to. It turned out even arrogant citified guys could prove to be decent people.

  Maybe he was dead. Maybe he wasn’t. There was nothing Affie could do about it either way. After a few seconds, when no other sounds emerged from the station, she resumed her progress through the dark chambers. She made her way through the thick curtains of vines that dangled down, brushing against her from every direction.

  In the far distance, she saw movement, too high from the ground to be an 8-T, too far from the central chamber to be one of the Jedi. Affie ducked low as she took a careful look and recognized Nan.

  Instead of the colorful dress she’d worn earlier, Nan wore a coverall as simple and utilitarian as Affie’s own, and bandoliers and a belt strapped with at least three times as much weaponry as Affie was carrying. Nan’s arms were bared, revealing tattoos—not pictures, but some kind of writing, too small to be read from that distance. To Affie, it seemed like a lot of tattoos for someone so young. Maybe that was common among the Nihil.

  But she’d worry about getting more intel on the Nihil later. For now, Affie only needed to know that Nan and Hague hadn’t discovered their presence, and to judge by Nan’s nonchalant stroll, they hadn’t. That meant the Jedi were free to do whatever they were doing.

  And Affie was free to get the proof she needed to make Scover back down.

  “This is bad,” Reath repeated to himself as he slumped into the seat of the hyperspace pod. “This is very, very bad. This is what happens when you don’t have access to research materials.”