by Leslie Chase
"I wish I could see outside," I muttered quietly to myself.
"I can open a viewport if you like, Your Highness," a voice said from everywhere around me. I jumped, shrieked, and tried to get a hold of myself as I stared around wildly.
No one was there aside from my maid, and the voice certainly hadn't come from there. A chuckle filled the room.
"Apologies if I startled you," the voice said again. "I am the ship's AI. You can call me Darkfang."
The ship is talking to me? And that's apparently perfectly normal? I shuddered as I tried to recover some semblance of poise. "I didn't realize you were, um, intelligent."
"That's alright, Your Highness," the ship said in an amused tone. "Not many Acheran assault ships are. Xendar had me upgraded when he took me as his personal ship."
That let me breathe easier. If it was rare, then I hadn't given myself away too badly. As my fear faded I felt a flood of embarrassment replace it, but I managed to nod. "I'm pleased to meet you then, Darkfang. And yes, I'd love to see outside if that's possible."
"There won't be anything to see," the ship warned me. "We're in hyperspace, and one view is much like another. But if you'll come forward to the docking area I can show you."
Curious, I stepped into the largest area of the ship, the bay I'd first entered. It ran the whole length of the Darkfang, with the cockpit directly above it, and as I entered the front section opened to show me the strange, pulsing rainbow colors outside.
The view was mesmerizing, intoxicating somehow. I stepped closer, reaching out to touch the glass that separated me from whatever was out there. The colors included ones I had no name for, weird hues that made no sense to my brain, but the view drew me in. It was a powerful enough effect that I didn't notice Xendar coming up behind me until he reached past me to put his hand beside mine.
"It's not wise to stare into hyperspace for too long," he said, the tone that of someone repeating a warning that everyone knows. I flushed at the implied criticism and turned away from the window.
"Perhaps if there was something else to look at I wouldn't need to," I snapped. It wasn't a great comeback, but it was all I had. Xendar chuckled and smiled, his pointed teeth making it a more threatening display than he might have intended.
"If you want a better view, I am always here," he said, raising an eyebrow. "You just need to ask."
I took a step back, feeling my face heat as I looked at him. Okay, he was a better sight to see than hyperspace, but that wasn't what I'd meant, and he knew it. At least, I hoped he did.
"Space travel shouldn't be so boring," I said. Pouted, maybe. "There ought to be a view."
He laughed again but relented. "It's true that this is a long trip, but it's nearly time to enter realspace again and discharge the power cells. If you want a view, I can see what's nearby."
I nodded at that, having no idea what he was talking about. But a view, something to break the monotony of this journey. Something to think about other than him. That would be good.
"I'd like that, I think," I told him, smiling. "Thank you."
"Then it will be done," he told me. "Usually I'd discharge the cells in deep space but breaking that tradition once will do no harm. I'll go and adjust course; it should take no more than a few minutes."
With that he turned and bounded away, his tail swishing behind him. I watched him go, then flushed and tore my eyes away as I realized the ship would be watching.
"Please do not be embarrassed, Your Highness," Darkfang said, and I wasn't sure, but I thought the AI sounded a smugly amused. "I want nothing but happiness for the two of you."
I didn't dignify that with a response. I had no idea what to say to a spaceship that had caught me ogling its pilot, anyway.
True to his word, Xendar wasn't away long. I tried to keep my eyes off the viewport in the meantime, wondering if it really was dangerous to stare into hyperspace. But there wasn't anything else to look at in the long chamber. It was the viewport, my robot maid, or my luggage secured at the rear of the ship.
"It's time," Xendar said as he returned. "Brace yourself for transition."
I had no idea what that meant, but I did my best to brace myself anyway. Darkfang sighed.
"I hate this part," the AI said. "Being shut down for minutes isn't any fun, and I'm always worried about whether I'll wake up again."
"Hold on," I said, nervously. "If it's dangerous we don't have to do this for me."
Xendar laughed, putting a clawed hand on my shoulder. The touch made me shiver with an uncomfortable mix of feelings. "Darkfang doesn't mean anything out of the ordinary. It's just the usual transition issues from hyperspace."
I must have looked blank, and he frowned. "You know, the way computers always shut down when we reenter realspace? Your robot maids, for example?"
Crap. This was clearly something so obvious no one had thought to mention it to me. I tried to blank my expression, hiding behind a mask of arrogant disdain. Hopefully that would work, or at least he'd dismiss me as dismally stupid.
"Oh, of course," I answered, waving my hand airily. "I... forgot. On the Shadow I was always attended by human servants."
That didn't seem to be entirely convincing, but after a moment Xendar shrugged. Luckily it seemed that the idea that his betrothed had been replaced by someone who'd never been into space before was so ridiculous it didn't occur to him.
"In any case, it's perfectly safe," he assured me, turning me towards the window. "And we're going to transition — now!"
His timing was perfect. The lights around us dimmed, and the rainbow display outside shimmered and faded to be replaced by a star-scape. Directly ahead of us, filling half the view, was a planet. For a moment I thought, against all odds, that it was Earth. My heart leaped, and then I realized that it couldn't be. Sure, it looked similar to the pictures I'd seen of Earth from space. The seas were the right blue, the wispy clouds looked the same, but the continents were different.
And, more importantly, Earth didn't have a ring. This planet did, cutting a beautiful arc across the view, sparkling in the sunlight. It was an amazing, breathtaking sight, and I found myself leaning in against Xendar as we shared it.
"That is Erdush," he said quietly, gesturing out at the planet below. "One of the worlds between our empires that might get caught in a war."
The ship was silent around us, quiet in a way it hadn't been since I'd gotten aboard. Everything had shut down just like Xendar had said, and it felt almost as though we were alone in the universe. A glance back told me that the maid had shut down too. For the first time, Xendar and I were truly alone, and the temptation to simply tell him the truth weighed on me.
Maybe he'd understand. Or maybe he'd kill me if he realized the deception. I didn't think so, but Rofain had stressed how vicious the Acherans were. And... well, I knew my history at judging men's character.
"Xendar," I started, then stopped, unsure of what to say. He looked down at me, his fierce face almost soft in the light of the planet.
I bit my lip, hesitating, and then the moment was taken from me. At the far end of the hold, my luggage exploded.
The explosion tore through the Darkfang in a terrible moment of fire and shock. It was like everything was at once moving too fast and too slowly, I could see the blast wave coming for me and I could barely move. The hull melted and everything was falling into space, and I'd barely even started to leap for safety.
My scream had barely left my lips as I felt the vacuum rip the air from my lungs. It was a burning, terrible sensation, like nothing I'd ever felt before. I didn't want it to be the last thing I felt, but there wasn't anything I could do about that. I was falling, tumbling head over heels towards the great tear the bomb had ripped in the side of the ship, and outside was only icy death.
I grabbed for the edge of the hole and for a moment I thought I might be safe. But the metal was slick and my grip poor, and the rush of air leaving the Darkfang carried me outside, out of reach of help. Around me I saw
bits of luggage falling away, headed for the planet far below. I'd follow them down and burn up in the atmosphere, a meteor for someone down there to admire.
My shock-addled brain liked that idea. At least my death would have a moment of beauty to it.
Then a hand closed on my wrist. I jerked to a stop with a jolt that made my shoulder scream in agony. Xendar had followed me out of the hole, and now we both dangled in the hurricane of escaping air, his tail all that secured us to the ship. I could see the grim determination in his eyes as he held me, his hand gripping so tight I started to lose feeling where his fingers dug in. But that was a small price to pay if it let me survive this.
Except... there was still no air. I looked up at his face as panic finally started to set in, and the absolute focus I saw there was almost comforting. He didn't intend to fail, to let me die. But that didn't mean he had any way to save me.
Behind him the ship was lit in red emergency lights, and sparks flew from the wall panels. If there'd been any oxygen to fuel a fire I had no doubt we'd have been in an inferno. As it was, it was clear the ship was dying. Perhaps, if he'd been piloting it, Xendar could have done something. Instead, he was here hanging onto me and a handhold while his ship tore itself to pieces.
My sight started to dim as my lungs demanded air. This was going to be the end of me, I realized with a horrible certainty. But Xendar wasn't giving up. As the wind died down he pulled us back inside, throwing me towards a handhold on the wall. Automatically I grabbed hold of it, and as soon as he saw I was secure he pushed off the wall.
Whatever else the bomb had wrecked, the artificial gravity was certainly gone. That didn't seem to bother Xendar, though. In any other circumstances I'd have been awestruck as I watched him go. He maneuvered in the weightless environment as though he was born to it, his powerful body aligned perfectly as he seemed to swim through the vacuum towards the far wall. Even during this disaster, it distracted me from the painful burning in my lungs.
I tried to shout to him. I'm not sure what I was trying to say, I'm not even sure it was words. Was I trying to tell him who I really was, or asking him to save me? Or was I just shouting? It didn't matter, without air to carry the noise all I was doing was mouthing words at his back.
The wall shook behind me and I could feel the Darkfang starting to come apart. Whatever Xendar was doing, he had to do it quickly. He pulled open a hatch in the wall and started to fling things out of the space behind it. I couldn't tell what they were, and I didn't care. The cold seeping into me was numbing my skin and my sight was dimming.
Then he turned holding something in his hands. A reddish lump of something that I couldn't quite focus on. Was it moving? It was hard to tell. Xendar didn't give me time to look, leaping back to my side and pulling me away from the wall. For a panicked moment I tried to fight him, to hang on to the handhold. It was stupid, I was dying anyway, but my body wanted to cling to the one certain part of the world I had left.
He met my eyes, and the impact of his gaze froze me. It was like meeting the eyes of a tiger, the focused gaze of a predator. I couldn't resist as he pulled me from the handhold and left me floating in space. My hands scrabbled at him, trying to hold onto something, and he pressed the red goo into my grip. It was soft and warm and seemed to grip me back, and I shuddered, instinctively trying to pull away.
Putting his hand in the center of my chest, Xendar gave me a hard push which sent me sailing back through the hole in the wall. My eyes went wide with betrayal as I watched the Darkfang fall away.
The goo in my hands convulsed and spread, flowing up my arms. I would have struggled but I was still in shock, looking at the fast-receding figure of Xendar as he watched me fall to my certain death.
Of all the things I'd expected, him killing me was the last.
It was only when the red goop started to push its way across my face that I started to try to pull it off. By then it was too late to resist and in seconds it had covered my mouth, my nose. My eyes. My ears.
"Unauthorized user detected," a voice said in my ear, making me jump and gasp.
It was at that point that I realized I could breathe. Sucking in a convulsive breath, then another, I laughed with relief and then coughed. The goo was still spreading, covering me, and its warmth was keeping me safe.
"Identify yourself, please." The voice was the same pleasant contralto as the Darkfang, but somehow flatter. Deader. "Unauthorized users will be ejected."
"I'm Hope—" I cut myself off, covering with a fit of coughing that I didn't have to fake. God, my lungs hurt.
Recovering, I started again. This wasn't the time to come clean — whatever I was talking to might think the princess was authorized to use it. Hope Alexander definitely wasn't. Putting as much conviction as I could into my voice, I spoke loudly and clearly. "I'm Imperial Princess Immorata, daughter of the Silent Empress, heir to the Duchy of Five Stars, Lady of Kemrin's Orbital..."
My voice trailed off as I tried to remember the litany of titles I'd been loaded down with. If I'd realized my life might depend so directly on it, I might have paid more attention! But the goo stayed silent, expectant, and I had to say something more. "Um. I'm Prince Xendar's mate?"
"Affirmative." The voice sounded almost smug, and in that moment, it sounded like the Darkfang's AI. The goo covering my eyes cleared and lit up and I could see again. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing.
I was spinning around as I fell, and the planet was growing larger. Helpful displays lit up in front of my eyes, telling me how far away the planet was in measurements I didn't understand. The numbers might be meaningless to me, but I could see how quickly they were going down. That couldn't be good.
"What are you?" I asked. "Can you land me on the planet?"
"Negative," the voice answered. "I am a Mark 16 Emergency Survival Suit. I am rated for two weeks of use by an Acheran, I am armored against incidental impacts and small arms fire, I am capable of short-range zero-G maneuvers, and I am heat, cold, and radiation resistant. I am not, however, designed for atmospheric re-entry. Please avoid."
The cheerful smugness of the answer didn't make its announcement that I was going to die any more pleasant. I swore, using a very un-princesslike word, and tried to make sense of the other readings. If the suit was able to maneuver, perhaps I could steer it around the planet? Unfortunately, it was like trying to figure out how to fly a fighter jet in mid-air. There were a lot of readouts, most of them in a notation that I couldn't understand, and even if it had all been clear to me I doubted I'd have worked it out. Astronauts trained long and hard to do this kind of thing.
Panicking won't help, I told myself. I can panic when I'm dead. While I'm alive, I'm going to assume there's a way out of this. So think!
Xendar might be an alien warlord but I didn't think he was trying to kill me. He could have done that easily, just by not catching me the first time I went out the hole. But no, he hauled me back aboard and got me this suit. He had to think I could survive this. Didn't he?
6
Xendar
My heart pounded as I watched the princess fall towards the planet below, praying that my timing was right. There would only be one chance for us to survive, if that.
The look of betrayal in her eyes burned, but without air I couldn't tell her my plan — and even if I could, I didn't have time to argue. It was this or death, for both of us.
Now I only had myself to save.
Around me, the Darkfang shuddered again and I could feel her coming apart as I turned and pulled myself to the internal door. The explosive had been well placed, I'd give the cowardly murderers who planned this that much. It must have been in with the rest of the princess's luggage, programmed to detonate the first time we reentered realspace. If I hadn't decided to show off a planet to Immorata, we'd be stranded in the depths of space with no hope of rescue, even if we'd survived the bomb itself.
The explosion had torn through the heart of the ship, and the Darkfang was only still in one pie
ce because of the military failsafe on the reactor. My ship was, after all, designed for combat and taking fire, and that was the only thing that bought me enough time to try something desperate.
I didn't have long, though. I might be better adapted to the vacuum of space than a human was, but not much better — if I didn't get to safety soon, I'd be dead. But there was one thing that I would not abandon with the ship. Pushing my way down the airless and gravity-free corridors of the dying vessel I reached what was left of the engine room. A warning light outside told me that it was radioactive. No surprise when the drive had been torn open by the explosion.
There wasn't time to worry about it though. If I lived long enough for the radiation to matter, I'd deal with it then. Tearing the door open I pushed inside and winced at the sudden heat. Even by Acheran standards, the leaking reactor left the room hot, and several of the surfaces were glowing. Failsafe or no, the Darkfang wasn't going to be around for long.
Fortunately, the AI core was near the door, and I made my way to it quickly, wincing as my hands touched the burning metal of the walls.
Sorry, old friend, I thought, gripping the sphere that held the AI's main programs tight. No time to unplug you properly.
The lights died as I tore the computer from its mountings. Hopefully the AI itself would survive the rude disconnection. If it hadn't already been destroyed by an energy surge, or the explosion, or any of the hundred other things that might have gone wrong. All I could do was pray to whatever gods watched over warship computers and go.
Behind me the engine shuddered and I could feel the hull buckle under the strain. There wasn't much time before the collapsing drive tore the ship and everything in it to pieces. My family would shout at me for risking my life going back for the AI, I knew. I also didn't care — this ship had served me well and I couldn't simply abandon a faithful companion.
