Shadow Space Chronicles 1: The Fallen Race

by Kal Spriggs

  She climbed into the cockpit, and Lucius trailed her. Unlike most ships, the Daedulus had an actual canopy that the pilot could look out. Even most fighters had armored cockpits with nothing but sensors and screens to show the outside.

  It was another reminder that the Daedulus came from a more peaceful time. It was a ship from a time when unarmed scouts pushed out into the distant reaches, with few fears of hostile aliens, human pirates, or military interdiction.

  Lucius seated himself. He pulled the seat restraints tight and felt the seat adjust to his body. Even though he saw Kandergain go through a complete preflight sequence, his eyes flickered over the co-pilot systems.

  “You’ve got the nav-computer disconnected?” he asked with consternation.

  “It gets annoying,” Kandergain said, irritation plain in her voice. “Damn thing thinks it knows better than me where we are, where we’re going, and how to get there.”

  Lucius bit his tongue. He knew Kandergain had a skill for navigation, but even so, she’d disconnected the navigation computer?

  “Alright, control says we’re good to go.” She brought the light vessel up and kept their ascent subsonic, if only barely. Lucius suddenly felt vertigo as he saw the stars through the crystal-clear canopy. He fought the feeling back and then swallowed his stomach as Kandergain threw the ship through several gyrations. “Ah, it feels good to be at the controls again!”

  “Oh?” Lucius asked nervously. He could feel the thrum of the ship’s engine even through the padding of the seat. The small scout massed only twice one of his fighters.

  “You never spent time as a fighter jock?”

  Lucius shook his head, then realized she couldn’t see him, “No.”

  “Ah, that’s right, you were expelled from the Nova Roma Academy,” she said, “Sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about.” Lucius answered. “I went through a stage where I felt bitter about it, but that passed. I was more bitter when I got drafted back in, but at least they gave me a rank equivalent to my title.”

  “Well, I’ve got a thing for flying.” Kandergain said, “And the Daedulus is… indescribably perfect for that.” She paused, “Okay, I’ve got the jump calculated, here we go.”

  They entered shadow space. As always, the experience raised hairs on the back of Lucius’ neck. He felt none of the physical discomfort that normally went with a transition. As if she had heard his thoughts, she spoke, “I know the harmonics of my drive and I compensate for it when I make a jump. You can program that into nav-computers, but they change over time. Most people don’t bother.”

  Shadow space remained the same gray and black void. Lucius found the sight as discomforting as always. In a larger ship, he could avoid it, but with the Daedulus’ canopy, the sight was unavoidable. “Sometimes I swear I see things moving out there.”

  “Then you’re more observant than most.” Kandergain said. “Trust me, shadow space isn’t nearly as empty as people think.” She typed in commands to the vessel, “Hold on, this will feel odd.”

  The ship turned. Lucius couldn’t describe the motion. They didn’t turn up or down or left or right, but they still turned. “What—“

  “There’s more dimensions in Shadow than in the real universe. Normal humans can’t perceive them, but most psychics can feel them. That’s why we can plot better navigation courses than computers.”

  “More dimensions?” Lucius asked.

  “Yes, there’s more to shadow than meets the eye.” Kandergain nodded, “Here we go.”

  Outside the canopy, the universe changed. The gray and black void altered and suddenly became a spiral of blues and greens.

  “What the hell?”

  Kandergain unstrapped herself and turned around and gave him a broad smile, “Most people only ever travel on the edge of shadow space. They only ever see the monochrome surface and never dive in.” She shrugged, “Good enough for going from place to place, I suppose. But this,” she waved a hand at the universe beyond the canopy, “is just one region. There are colors out here that have no name, that only exist in some parts of this realm.”

  “That’s…” Lucius stared at her for a moment and watched the myriad colors reflecting off her face. “It’s beautiful.”

  She looked up and out of the canopy and she smiled like a child, “Isn’t it?” She sighed, “Sometimes, I sleep in here, if I’m passing through a portion I can afford to sleep in.”

  Something in her voice put a chill down Lucius's spine. “So this is dangerous?” Lucius asked.

  Her smile faded, “Just knowing about this side of Shadow space is dangerous.” She shrugged, “The Shadow Lords live in places like this, places only a psychic can reach.”

  “And the Balor are psychic?” Lucius said.

  “Yes and so are some other things.” She sighed, “As always, reality isn’t as pretty when you look closely enough to see the pimples.”

  They sat in awkward silence for what seemed to last forever. Finally, Lucius cleared his throat. “Well... how long till we reach your friend?” Lucius asked.

  “We’ll reach Lithia in a little less than two days,” Kandergain said briskly.

  “Lithia?” Lucius frowned, “Isn’t that on the far side of the Republic?”

  “Yes, that piece of junk,” she pointed at the nav-computer, “might get you there in two or three months, if you’re lucky.”

  Lucius stared at her, “You’re incredible.”

  She smiled wryly, “Thank you, Lucius. One thing I didn’t mention is a lack of prepared meals. Since I’m so amazing and seeing as you owe me a 'fine dinner' anyway… you get to do the cooking.”

  ***

  “I don’t believe it.”

  Kandergain stared down at the plate of pasta fettuccine. She looked up at Lucius incredulously. “You can cook?”

  Lucius shrugged, “Everyone has talents.”

  “But nobody cooks anymore!” She protested and then she started digging in.

  “My grandmother had a fascination with things Italian, as you can guess by the surname she chose,” Lucius said. “I learned how to cook mostly to please her, then I found I liked it.”

  “Mmph mwr alph.” Kandergain said around a mouthful.

  “What was that?”

  “I said,” Kandergain swallowed, “It’s not fair. You were supposed to fail miserably, that way you wouldn’t complain when I couldn’t cook a thing.” She frowned, “Where the hell did you get pasta from anyway?”

  “The recycler produces starches and proteins in requested quantities.” Lucius shrugged, “I had it produce pasta.”

  “But… you’d have to know the chemical make-up of pasta!”

  “For some, cooking is an art. I just cut corners a little and make it a scientific art.” Lucius smiled as he poured her a small glass of wine.

  “I knew you cheated somehow.”

  “Well, then I yield, you may cook—”

  “Not so fast, buster, you cook, I fly, that’s the deal, take it or leave it.” Kandergain growled.

  “I’m touched by your appreciation.” Lucius gave a mock bow. “Now, would you like to wager one of your favors on whether I can tickle some bread dough out of the recycler?”

  ***

  Two days later, they sat in the cockpit, staring out at the gyrating colors of Shadow.

  “I still don’t believe it.” Kandergain muttered as she gnawed at a roll.

  “You didn’t take my wager on the pie.”

  “I still say you’re cheating.” She tapped one of three chronometers mounted on her control panel. “Five minutes more and we reach Lithia.”

  Lucius looked at the clock. “Why do you have three? I could understand one to show relative time and another to show universal time... but three?”

  “Harrumph.” Kandergain said and then swallowed. “The first is a clock that showing ship’s time at destination. The second is showing our ship's time, adjusted to match, more or less, with time at destination, the last is just a co
untdown timer.”

  “Wait... ship’s time doesn’t change.” Lucius said, “It’s calibrated off a ship’s drives, it takes into account velocity, acceleration—“

  “We’re inside Shadow space. The rules are different here.” She shrugged, “Time doesn’t necessarily progress at the same rate here as in the real universe.”

  “But…” Lucius frowned, “I thought that was one thing constant about shadow space. Position might change, but time has to stay constant, or else…”

  “Or else you get paradox.” Kandergain finished. “If time flows at different speeds, you can go into the future, or more importantly, go into the past.”

  “Can we go into the past?”

  “I wouldn’t recommend it.” Kandergain grinned.

  Lucius frowned, “But… think of all the things that—”

  “Butterfly effect, remember?” Kandergain said. “I may not like what we have, but no way in hell will I risk drastic changes to the present. Besides that, you’d be plotting the course through shadow space. All sorts of unpleasantness can happen from a normal course, from point A to point B. You would have to know exactly when and where you’re leaving, and exactly when and where you’re going.” She shook her head, “Traveling A to B the way I do, I can play some games with how long something takes, but I’ve never even tried to go backwards.”

  Lucius nodded, then his eyes went dark, “A… unpleasant idea just occurred to me. What happens when people make emergency jumps?”

  Kandergain turned around in her seat, “If you’re suggesting it’s possible to go back in time from an emergency jump…” She scowled, “I really don’t like that idea.”

  Lucius nodded. It was often an act of desperation from a commander. Sometimes it offered the only chance of survival, though. Statistically, a ship only had a one in three chance of survival. Most of the time, the ship, or pieces of ship emerged relatively nearby. Sometimes, however, ships never emerged at all, that anyone could tell.

  And sometimes, people found lifeless hulks. Ghost ships, mangled as often as not, but sometimes, they were ships with odd registries. Everyone heard stories, and Lucius wondered how many of those ships might come from outside of time.

  Shadow space flickered around them, suddenly replaced by the welcome sight of stars.

  “I let him know we were coming, but even so, I jumped us a ways out.” Kandergain spoke as she swung the ship around and put it on a heading for a nearby moon. “I don’t want a finger twitch to end my journey prematurely.”

  Lucius nodded. “I didn’t see an ansible.”

  “I don’t need one. Well... not to contact him.”

  “So he’s a psychic.”

  “Duh.” Kandergain brought up her microphone and spoke softly into it. She waited a moment, then nodded at something said into her headset. “We’re good, Lucius. They authorized me to do a flyby. You’re getting the five-dollar tour.”

  “Oh, great.”

  The Daedulus swept in, and they approached a cluster of ships. Most of them Lucius recognized as Republic ships. There weren’t many warships. He noted two squadrons of fighters in a combat patrol of the area.

  A larger vessel loomed over the other ships in the fleet. Lucius frowned at the alien, but still familiar shape. He blinked, “Is that?”

  “Yes,” Kandergain said. She brought her ship underneath the bulk of the warship. Along the smooth, almost organic lines, Lucius could see modifications done by a human hand. From close up, Lucius marveled at the sleek lines. No bulky turrets or blocky projections ruined the ship’s predatory look.

  “It’s a captured Balor battlecruiser, their Terror-class, rechristened the Defender.” She smirked, “There’s an amusing story to its capture, if we have the time, you should hear it from Shaden himself.”

  “Shaden?” Lucius asked, distractedly. He stared at the ship, as they flashed past. His eyes picked out blackened sections of hull, pits and even the occasional hole in the armor. The ship had seen battle and seen it recently enough that repairs remained incomplete.

  “My friend.” She swung them up, coming into an awaiting hangar. “They ripped out the Balor shadow space drive and put in a human version, ours is actually about half the size of theirs, we do some things better. That left room for bigger hangars and some other goodies.”

  “Interesting,” Lucius said as he looked around the man-made hangar bay. He squeezed out of the cockpit ahead of Kandergain and made his way to the airlock. She arrived just after him, gave him a quick smile and then opened both airlocks and stepped out.

  Lucius followed her down the ramp. No party awaited them in the hangar. Two swearing petty officers dressed down a pair of spacers near a partially dismantled fighter. The ugly, box-like body of it looked ungainly. Havoc-class, I hadn't realized anyone still used those, Lucius thought.

  Lucius looked forward in time to see Kandergain moving towards a hatch. “He’ll meet us in the briefing room.”

  They stepped into a round corridor. Dull gray walls stretched away, fore and aft down the ship. A wire ran along the ceiling, tacked into place and bulbs hung from it to provide the only light. Kandergain caught his look, “The Balor don’t have eyes, they don’t need light. They don’t see colors, either, so everything looks the same to us.”

  “Ah.” He’d have to brief Colonel Proscia. It would certainly make a boarding operation more difficult. He didn't want to think about how nasty the Balor would be in the dark, especially with their weapons and speed advantages.

  They made their way down the corridor, turned at an intersection, then at another. Lucius prided himself at his sense of direction, but even so, with no markings, no differentiation, he felt disoriented. He smiled as they came to the next corridor and he saw a slip of paper taped to the wall with ‘bridge’ written on it by hand, with a pointing arrow.

  They stepped into a room off that corridor.

  “…the Vizier know, we need a replacement draft as soon as possible.” The man who spoke looked far too young for the rank he held. Light brown hair, cropped short to his head, of medium height, he looked almost boyish in the uniform. The four, five-pointed stars pinned to his collar seemed totally out of place. He looked no older than the young spacers who received their dressing-down from the petty officers in the hangar.

  “Yes, General.” The ensign he spoke to nodded, “Anything, else?”

  The young-looking General looked up, and for a second, Lucius met his eyes. However young his face and body looked, Lucius saw age and weariness in those eyes. “I think that will be all.”

  As the woman left, the General stepped forward, hand held out. He had a firm, polite grip, Lucius noted. “Baron Giovanni, welcome. I’m Shaden Mira. I wish we met under better circumstances.”

  Lucius shrugged, looking around the room. A mess of papers lay across the conference room table. He recognized the clutter as that of a man with too much to do and too little time to worry over tidiness. “I’m glad you could make the time to meet me, though I’m guessing I’m not going to enjoy the answer I’ll receive.”

  Shaden smiled grimly, “You’re right. We just fought the Balor to a standstill over in Centauri Gamma Omicron. I’ve got about two weeks to repair and refit, before they hit here.” The young/old man grimaced, “If I could spare anyone experienced, I’d send them, but…”

  “You don’t have anyone you can spare.” Lucius nodded. “I understand.”

  The other man snorted, “You think you wasted the time coming, but not so. I’ve had my people assemble battle records as well as summaries from a dozen engagements. I spent the past couple days going over strategies that work for us. That, among other things,” he shot a look at Kandergain, “should help you.”

  Lucius took the data chip. “Thank you.” He felt a sort of calm resignation at the outcome. He should have expected this.

  “Baron, I wish I had better news for you.” Shaden shrugged, “But things are never the way we want them.”

  A pair of offi
cers came in the door in a heated argument. They quieted at the sight of Lucius and Kandergain, but Lucius recognized the sight of a problem that required their leader. He bowed politely, “Hopefully, we’ll meet again under less… pressured circumstances.”

  He and Kandergain moved back into the corridor, “Sorry Lucius.”

  He shrugged, “It—”

  “Kandergain!” A redheaded torpedo barreled down the corridor.

  “Moira!” Kandergain shouted.

  The two collided and for a second, Lucius winced. He half expected combat at the force of the collision. Instead the two women hugged. The redhead pushed Kandergain at arms length and studied her critically, “You look good.”

  “You are too! What’s it been, ten years?”

  “Seventeen,” Moira sniffed, “And you didn’t write.”

  “Moira, I’ve been awfully busy…”

  The short redhead turned and looked Lucius up and down, “This is him?” Lucius had never before felt so much like a piece of farm produce on display at market.

  “Yes.” Kandergain said. She too looked Lucius over and he wondered, absently, if he’d forgotten to shave or something similarly embarrassing.

  “Baron Lucius Giovanni, this is Moira Kaid.”

  “Ah, pleased to meet you Mrs.…Kaid?” He couldn’t help but squeak the last.

  Kandergain snickered and Moira guffawed. “A common enough reaction, trust me.” Moira nodded, “You are now graciously introduced to the only surviving child of Thomas Kaid.” She said it with the same relish as a midwife might relay the news of a child born with cleft hooves and horns.

  “Oh,” Lucius said. He’d had experience with being the child of a man considered a traitor to his own people. Even so, he wasn’t certain he could ever be so cavalier about it.

  “She’s Shaden’s wife,” Kandergain said as if that explained everything.

  “Ah.”

  Kandergain and Moira shared a look and then Kandergain shrugged, “He cooks.”

  ***

  “That was really one of Thomas Kaid’s children?” Lucius asked, as they pulled clear of the hangar bay.

  “Yes,” Kandergain said. “She and Shaden have been together since the beginning or near enough.” She sighed a bit, “I envy them for that. It’s almost sickening how affectionate they can get.”