by S M Briscoe
“Until we meet again,” he heard her speak softly, as he stepped into the umbilical.
* * *
Hundreds of space stations, varying from defense platforms to fueling docks and construction facilities, populated all quarters of Dominion space. Many of them revolved around the system’s numerous planets and moons, dozens orbiting Gaia alone, Ethan knew, while others drifted through the vast empty space that separated them, serving as waypoints for travelers in need of rest and repairs.
Infinity Station was neither. Poised on the edge of what was generally considered to be the outlying border of the system, the small research facility gazed out into the vast expanse of open galactic space that separated them from all of the other stars. It’s crew, comprised of various astrologists and scientists, apparently devoted themselves to observing spatial phenomenon and gathering data on nearby solar systems. At least, that was what they would have any onlookers believe. Though no one had said as much, Ethan knew that this place was more than just the stellar research facility it appeared to be. Kern and Sierra wouldn’t have brought them all the way out here otherwise. It’s sheer distance from any civilized sector of Dominion space made it a safe bet for them to rest and refuel before parting ways, but with the Sect after them they had to be sure they could trust the people onboard completely. The only way they could do that was if the people onboard were their own. At least that was the way Ethan saw it. In the end, he supposed it didn’t matter what their real purpose here was. As long as they were friendlies. His certainty in that allowed him to rest easy . . . for the first time in what seemed like an eternity.
As it’s name indicated, the installation offered a view of open space that was especially breathtaking, Ethan having spent most of his time since arriving on its observation deck staring out into the star spattered void. Not with the awe of a boy that once dreamed of little else, but the clarity of someone that had been exposed to its true nature and had been humbled by the experience. Those shining slivers of light, glowing so fiercely against the void around them, which had always seemed to be calling to him, looked somehow different now. They still held the same mystery they always had, but what once had been a world of fantasy and endless possibility, had become something much more real.
His first space-ward adventure had not been what he always imagined it would be. Far from it. It had been a rude awakening to the realities of the Universe. And while the shock of what he had experienced would haunt him forever, he knew it would also help to shape the person he would become. No, the void was not what he had imagined. It was much more. And as sure as he was of how naive and misguided he had been about what it held, he was as equally certain that he would spend the rest of his life traveling it.
“Some view, huh?” Jarred commented from behind him, Ethan glancing up at the man’s reflection in the viewpane. “After seeing it from out here, you never look at it quite the same way.”
Ethan returned his focus to the vast starfield. “What’s out there?”
“In the Expanse?” Jarred replied. “It’s hard to say. Not much at all, I suppose. Just the open void between us and the rest of the universe.”
“Has anyone ever tried to cross it?” Ethan asked.
Jarred shrugged. “Some have. None have come back. Problem is, there’s a few trillion kilometers of empty space separating us from the nearest star out there. It would take the rest of your life time to make that trek, let alone a round trip. And research stations like this one have already ruled out any hospitable worlds or life in any of the surrounding systems, so you and your kids’ kids would be looking at a pretty long haul to find a place to dock.”
Ethan thought about that a moment. “Do you think there’s anyone else out there?”
Jarred didn’t answer right away, appearing deep in thought as his own gaze drifted out into the infinite darkness. “Well . . . we all came from somewhere, didn’t we? And the Universe is a big place. It would be hard to believe we’re the only beings in it.”
“Yeah,” Ethan said. “That’s what I was thinking.”
Jarred grinned at him and used one hand to muss his hair. “You about ready to cast off?”
Ethan nodded. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
The others were waiting on the docking level below, Sierra and Kern conversing with an older in years, dark skinned man; Rictor was his name; the facility’s administrator and lead researcher . . . and whatever else he really was. They ended their quiet talk as Ethan and Jarred neared, Kern stepping away from the others to meet them.
“The scout’s loaded with supplies and primed,” he commented, gesturing towards the nearest boarding umbilical, the small vessel he was referring to visible through the viewpanes to either side of the arm’s hatchway. “Are you really sure about this?”
“Are you trying to get me to change my mind?” Jarred returned. “A deal’s a deal. The ship is yours. You earned it. It’s a little higher profile than I need right now anyway. The scout will suit my needs just fine.”
“Well, it’s not much,” Rictor commented. “We only use it for supply runs. But it’s yours, for what you’ve done for these two . . . and their cause.”
Jarred nodded to the man, Ethan eyeing him carefully, as though in doing so he would be able to discern his real place and purpose here.
“You’re sure you won’t change your mind?” Kern asked. “And come with us? We could use someone with your skill set.”
“I’m sure you could,” Jarred returned with a grin. “But I think I’ve had my fill of waging war against the Sect. I’ll leave that duty in your capable hands.” He took the other man’s hand and shook it.
“You’re one of the good guys,” Kern said. “Remember that.”
“I’ll try,” Jarred replied.
As Kern moved aside, Sierra stepped forward, she and Jarred regarding one another for a silent moment. “I’m glad Kam found you,” the woman said, finally. “Thank you for helping him.”
Jarred didn’t say anything in return, but nodded to her instead as he took her outstretched hand. It was an odd exchange, one Ethan didn’t quite understand, though he knew enough that it showed both wanted to say more, but couldn’t or wouldn’t bring themselves to do so.
“We’re all set to go,” another voice said from a short distance away, Ethan looking over to see his sister standing in the scout’s open umbilical entry portal.
Sierra gestured in Elora’s direction, while still speaking to Jarred. “You’re sure about this? Taking them with you? They’d probably be better off coming back with us.”
“Probably,” Jarred replied. “But I haven’t had a lot of luck talking them out anything lately.” He looked from Ethan to Elora, grinning warmly. “Besides, they’re kind of starting to grow on me.”
Elora returned his smile, Ethan noting something in her eyes he couldn’t recall ever having seen before. She cared for Jarred. And Ethan thought Jarred felt the same for her. It was a thought that brought a grin to his own face.
“Then I guess this is goodbye,” Sierra said, looking to each of them in turn.
“A wise person told me . . . there are no goodbyes,” Jarred said, looking across the deck to one of the other umbilical arm hatches, where Orna stood, returning his gaze. The others turned to regard her as well.
“Who knows,” Jarred continued. “Maybe our paths will cross again.”
They parted then, Sierra and Kern moving toward the docked Meridian Stargazer to return Orna to their resistance friends, Jarred, Ethan and Elora boarding their newly donated scout class freight runner. The vessel was nothing special, but appeared in good shape. The flight deck was cramped and nowhere near as sophisticated as the Stargazer Jarred had unfortunately seen fit to give to Sierra and Kern, but as Ethan looked over the small array of control stations, he decided it definitely had potential. As he had thought so many times when fantasizing about flying through the void to adventures unending, any ship that functioned was a thing of beauty.
Jarre
d settled into one of the two pilot seats and began to prep for umbilical detachment, Ethan passing both Elora and Tarik at the rear control stations to take up the empty seat next to him. Releasing the boarding arm’s mag locks, Jarred executed a low powered directional thrust and the ship began to drift away from the station, coming about until Ethan was able to see it and the Stargazer through the viewport.
“Well, kid,” Jarred said, waiting for Ethan to turn towards him before continuing. “You want to do the honors?”
Ethan felt a burst of child-like excitement at the question. Jarred had first coached him on the basics of piloting on their flight in to Solta about a million years ago. At least it felt that way. A lot had changed since then. He wasn’t the same, wet nosed kid he was then, excited and terrified at the controls all at once. Though the prospect of flying this or any vessel still excited him, and probably always would, the nervous fear was gone. There were far greater things in this Universe to be weary of. This wasn’t one of them. This was his dream. This was freedom.
As Ethan placed his hands on the controls, and felt the ship’s subtle response to his touch, he knew he was where he was meant to be. He was home. Glancing over his shoulder, he smiled back at his sister and she returned it, looking at him, not with the worry or scorn she always had, but with a confidence that filled him with pride. Across from him, Tarik also seemed to grunt his approval. Maybe.
“What’s our course?” he asked, looking back over at Jarred.
Jarred gazed out through the viewport for a moment. “There’s a whole lot of space out there. Why don’t you decide.”
For a moment, Ethan was confused by the proposal, looking out through the viewport at the array of stars. Kern and Sierra were just beginning to drift away themselves, sure of their own destination. But what was theirs? He didn’t know where they were going. How was he to know what course was the right one? He could pick any direction. Any vector. There was an infinite number of possibilities. Maybe that was the point. Maybe Jarred didn’t even know which direction they should be heading. Maybe it didn’t matter. As long as they chose a path and started down it. It wasn’t important where it took them. Not right now. What was important was that they made the choice, confident that wherever that vector led them, they would be ready to face what waited at its end.
Ethan smiled again, this time to himself, and turned back to the controls, laying in a course. One of his own choosing.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
