“We don't have time. Go. Now!” Kalista gestured toward the rear of the craft. “We'll open the cargo door, then we'll shut it once you're in the cargo bay. Hold on to the side railings, because I'm going to open the outside door slowly to let the water trickle in until it is full enough that you're submerged.” She paused, then bent down and dug through the tool kit, pulling out a mask. “You need this in order to breathe. This has about 30 minutes of air.”
Devon's shoulders slumped. “I guess I have no choice.”
Kalista shook her head and handed him the mask, then pulled it back abruptly.
“Dammit,” she snarled. “The mask isn't going to fit. It's made for a Nankuani, not a human.”
“Hurry!” Worry lines creased Chase's forehead.
“They would be stupid to detonate a bomb with us so close to the Underpost. They'd take a shit-load of damage themselves. So, we're not leaving this spot until the bomb is off our craft,” demanded Kalista.
“Is it that big of a bomb?” asked Chase.
Kalista shrugged her shoulders.
“I don't think I can hold my breath long enough to get under the ship and dislodge the bomb,” said Devon, waiting for a punch to the face.
Kalista grumbled angrily and kicked the box under the bench seat. “Fine!” She grabbed the wetsuit and tool out of Devon's hand. “Chase, you see the cargo bay holographic buttons on my HDC? There should be two.”
Chase looked at her HDC and nodded.
“Okay, press the button that says ‘interior cargo bay door’.”
Chase moved out of his seat and plopped down in hers. He located the button and pressed it. “Got it.”
The interior door at the back of the ship opened, showing massive amounts of white powder gold. Kalista made her way past the door and stood on top of the white powder gold in the cargo bay, leaning against the side wall.
“I'm going to change into my wet suit and mask, so press the same button and the door will shut. I'll be able to talk to you through the com link back here. Once I have my mask on I'll be communicating through the com link installed in the mask. Understand?”
Chase nodded, then pressed the button again and watched as the solid ebb door shut.
“You hear me?” asked Kalista, her voice hollow and filled with static.
“I hear you,” replied Chase. “You ready for me to open up the exterior cargo bay door?”
“I just got here! Give me a minute.”
“Will do.” Chase looked over his shoulder at Devon. “You can sit in the co-pilot seat if you want.”
Devon made his way over to the co-pilot seat. “Kalista is a pissant, isn't she?”
“We have a bomb under us and this is her ship. I'd be a bossy, impatient pissant as well. In fact, I'm probably already there...just holding my tongue.”
“I can hear you guys,” said Kalista. She knocked on the exterior cargo door, saying, “Open the exterior door slowly, so I don't wash out.”
“How do I open it slowly?” questioned Chase.
“Press on the exterior cargo holographic button and hold it. When you see it blink red, then you let go. The red color means the door is ajar and I'll probably already be out in the ocean by that time. Do you understand?”
“Affirmative,” said Chase. “Pressing the button now.”
Kalista stood in the cargo bay, her mask and wet suit tightly against her skin, tool in hand. Her clothes were laid out on the white powder gold, knowing that they would be pulled out into the sea along with the gold.
Such a waste, she thought. Perfectly good clothes.
A red light flashed overhead and the exterior door slowly rose, rushing in pounds of water. In less than a minute she was completely submerged.
“The cargo bay is filled,” she told Devon and Chase. She watched as her clothes washed out with the white powder gold. “I'm going out.”
Even though the cargo bay door was only about halfway up, she needed to get to the bomb as fast as she could. She didn't know if her assumption was correct about the bomb and realized it could explode any time, regardless of how close they were to the Underpost. Besides, it was an elite soldier—a man trained and brainwashed much like Payson—that had placed the device there. She was sure of it, and that man probably didn't care much about anyone in the Underpost, including himself.
She crouched and quickly pushed off the wall with her legs and guided herself under the door and out into the open water. “Can you guys hear me?”
There was some static on her end accompanied by Chase's voice. “We're here. Are you at the bomb yet?”
“No,” she surveyed the vast ocean before her, seeing what seemed to be thousands of fish swimming by, their beautiful colors glowing in the turquoise water. A dolphin nudged her, as if to take her mind off of the hypnotic fish and back to the crisis at hand. “I'm heading to the belly of the craft.”
She grasped a secured handle on the back of the craft, and pushed off, maneuvering herself below the ship. A disk the size and appearance of a white plate was suctioned to the belly, directly underneath the cockpit.
“I see it and I'm heading there now.”
“Good,” replied Chase. “Anything we can do on our end?”
Kalista kicked her legs and propelled herself forward. “I seriously doubt it.” The bomb was now only inches away.
The digital timer displayed, eleven seconds.
Her eyes bugged out. “Listen up! Fire aft engines and pull back on the control stick, now!”
“Now? Why?” asked Chase.
Nine seconds.
Kalista dug her tool between the bomb and the craft.
“Don't question. Do it. Now!” she yelled.
“What about you?” questioned Chase.
Six seconds.
She jiggled the bomb loose and it fell toward the ocean floor, but too slowly for Kalista's liking. The craft shuddered and she scooted over to grab a handle near the front landing gear of the Starhawk. Then it zoomed like a laser up and out of the ocean, streaming water off its rear, shedding itself from the sea.
Kalista clung to her life as the ship skyrocketed upward. Chase screamed in her ear but she couldn't make out anything he was saying. The ship shook violently and her fingers became numb. One finger slipped, then another. Her stomach wrenched, feeling as if it had fallen to her feet and through her toes.
One more finger let loose and her body went with it. The air rushed around her and she swung her arms around trying to grasp at something, anything. But she descended anyway, and everything went quiet except for the wind filling her ears.
Her body panicked but for some odd reason her mind didn't, and she straightened like a stick, figuring she had a long way down and that would be her only hope of surviving. She dared not look, dared not think of the wallop she was about to sustain.
A concussion blast of sea and fish skin, blood, and guts erupted against her feet and up her chest, pieces landing all over her mask, as the bomb exploded several depths under the water.
She closed her eyes and arrowed her feet and hands toward the oncoming ocean, and braced. Her feet sliced the water, splaying her right leg out, and the pull of suction and the push of speed buckled her femur, cracking it on impact. The rest of her body immersed into the sea, and the pain of her broken bone shot up into her hip and side. She yelped just as her mask was yanked off by the suctioning water. A gulp of salty water filled her throat. Oxygen bubbles rose to the surface and then she suddenly slowed, as if a parachute had just opened.
Blood continued to stream past her eyes and at first she thought it was from the dead fish torn apart from the bomb. She glanced down toward the searing pain in her leg and gasped, swallowing more water. A portion of her broken femur had torn through her wet suit, torn through her muscle and skin. It was her blood.
She swam to the surface, her broken leg immobile and starting to numb.
Reaching the top she peered up at the sky, seeing the Starhawk turning around and heading in her
direction.
Chase's voice fizzed through her masks com link. “Kalista. Where are you?”
Searching around for the mask, she saw it a few feet away. Grabbing it, she coughed several times, then brought the mask to her face, faintly saying, “Head directly to the explosion site. My leg is broken, so the faster, the better.”
“A few seconds away,” replied Chase.
The water waved and rippled as the Starhawk lowered into a hover about ten feet above her, then lowered into the water. The back exterior door opened.
Chase’s staticky voice came through the com link. “Can you swim to us?”
“Maybe.” She reached one arm out and pulled it across her body and repeated the stroke with her other arm. “One of you pull me into the cargo bay. But first get the tool kit out from under the bench. I'll need it.”
“Devon's on it,” said Chase.
Kalista continued to pull herself forward, inching her way to the Starhawk, the small waves slapping her face, blurring her eyes, until she reached out for the stern of the ship. She tried to pull herself up but her body was far too weak.
“Can you see Devon yet?” asked Chase.
Kalista looked up and saw Devon emerge right there. She rested her forehead on the edge of the stern. “You both need to help. He's too scrawny to do this by himself. I'm heavier than you think—”
“I'm right here.” Chase bent down, grasping one arm while Devon grasped the other. She was massive, almost twice the size and width of them, and heavier by far. Grunting, they pulled her out of the water and through the cargo bay, sliding her across the ship's ebb flooring and next to the bench seat where the tool kit sat. A streak of her own blood trailed behind her.
She pointed to the tool kit. “Get me the syringe.”Devon found it in a side compartment and handed it to her.
Kalista's breaths were short, cut off by the searing pain in her upper leg and hip. While she was in the water everything had gone numb, perhaps from the salt, she thought, but now all she could feel was excruciating pain.
She shook her finger up and down, gesturing at the kit. “You see the clear solution in the vial in the compartment?”
“Yeah, got it,” responded Chase, kneeling beside her and handing it to her.
She sucked the liquid out of the vial with the syringe, then held the syringe to her eyes, looking at it like a shark barreling down on its prey. “This is for all the shit I've taken my entire life.” She stabbed her leg with the syringe and emptied its contents. She pulled the syringe out and dropped it. Her head sank onto the ground and her breathing slowed, calming.
“Wrap my leg up and then let's get out of here. I need a healer.”
Devon pulled out the wrap from the kit and started bandaging her. “Wow, the bleeding has stopped already.”
Kalista nodded as if that was exactly what she was expecting, along with the pain subsiding.
“I know some doctors at the starbase,” said Chase. “Let's get you there.”
Kalista shook her head. “Your doctors are limited and don't know what they're doing...You know we did that on purpose, right?” She shrugged. “We gave them the wrong education, only teaching them the basics that even our young Nankuani know.” She frowned. “No doctor for me. I need a healer—one from Iburun.”
Chase gave her a fixed stare. “You said it wouldn't be a good idea for Devon and I to go to Iburun. We're going to the starbase. We can get you patched up and into the Suficell Pods.”
Kalista swiped a ferocious fist at Chase, who quickly lurched back, barely avoiding the punch. Devon backed away, dropping the wrap.
“I'm sorry,” said Chase, moving to the pilot's seat. “We're going back home. You won't die there and neither will we.”
“You little Star Guild prick,” screamed Kalista. “I saved your asses and this is the thanks I get? Get me to a real healer!”
“We will,” said Devon, quietly. “You'll be helped.”
Kalista clenched her jaw. “You forget that Payson is still there. You never know, maybe he took over the starbase and killed all of your friends. Get me to Iburun.”
Chase paused, sensing Kalista wasn't in her right mind, though she had a good point. “We can still try. We'll hyperjump to the starbase and if we see or hear foul play via the com line between the starbase and us, then we will go to Iburun. Is that a deal?”
Kalista folded her arms across her stomach. “No deal. Do as I say or suffer the consequences.”
Chase looked at Devon, who was slowly making his way to the co-pilot chair. “I strapped her in,” said Devon in a low tone. “I clipped her to the bench.”
“Thank you. Now, strap yourself in. We're heading home.”
“You better not,” growled Kalista.
Chase closed the back cargo door, then lifted the Starhawk into the air.
“Destination, Starbase Matrona.” He pressed a button on the course module drive—the same button that brought up their previous coordinates.
He punched the throttle forward and pulled back on the control stick, speeding the Starhawk to the upper atmosphere, where it carved a path into the exosphere and then into space. A burst of stars, millions and more, sparkled across the infinite.
“Hold on tight, 'cause here we go.”
Chase put his fingers around the hyperdrive lever and pulled down. The universe filled with streaking stars, and the streaks changed from white, to yellow, to purple, and back to white again. All was quiet, and then they stopped, their nose pointed at Starbase Matrona.
Chase exhaled, happy to see his home. He put his hands behind his neck, stretching his fingers and rolling his neck side-to-side, smiling.
“We made it.”
Then he frowned and reached out as if to stop what was about to happen, to snag the starbase out of the air before it could go any further.
The starbase brightened and a yellow halo shot outward from its core, ebbing in and out like a throbbing energy ripple, spreading out into the vastness of the darkness around them.
A moment later the starbase vanished.
“What?” screeched Devon.
“They initiated their hyperdrives...but where did they go?” Chase glanced at Kalista. “Kalista, can—” he stopped in mid sentence.
Kalista was sleeping like a baby.
Episode 16
Special Mission
Crystal slouched in Starship Tranquil's admiral's chair, looking up at the vid screen surrounding the entire bridge. She glanced at Harak who was sitting next to her with his arms folded and frowning.
“It's only been one day with me as your leader and you're so pissed off that you can't even speak to me?”
He squeezed his arms tighter and frowned deeper.
They had spent all night on Tranquil and now that it was late afternoon they were waiting for orders to disembark from the mountain and plot a course to Lumus II.
Crystal yawned. “Guild, I'm bored.”
“We have orders from my father King Bilrak not to leave until they are at the end of the tunnel.” Harak raised his hand in a fist. “That’s when we strike!”
“So, you can talk. And so dramatically,” quipped Crystal. “This is ridiculous. My friend is in the tunnel and your friends are in the tunnel...they aren't going to survive. I've seen how big those Drags are. They aren't going to be taken down easily.”
“Do not underestimate my people. My father, in truth, is all we need. He is all that your friend needs. He will keep Darf safe.”
“It's Daf, and your father is all she needs in order to kill maybe hundreds or thousands of ten-foot-tall giants? Pinch me when you wake up.”
Harak exhaled with exasperation, then lumbered out of his chair, grumbling Dwarven obscenities and walking away.
“Problems?” asked Shan.
Crystal looked up at the vid screen seeing nothing but mountainous rock walls. “Harak thinks he’s a bad ass.”
Shan cleared his throat. “Are you saying there’s something bad about Harak's
buttocks?
“Well, no. And, yes. I didn't get a good look at his butt, but I'm pretty sure it's as flat as his personality.” Crystal blinked several times, trying to get the image out of her mind. “Anyway, I'm sorry. I don't think either of us had any sleep last night. We're both a little testy.” She felt Shan's touch on her shoulder, and her mind and body calmed.
“Crystal,” he said, “remember, Dwarves over-exaggerate most things, but it's not exactly what they are doing. It is their way of complimenting someone or something. Don't take it too literally, but understand, they do take it literally. It is their greatest joy to fight in battle and to show and prove their honor. Especially against those who want to overpower them, like my race. If and when they defeat an opponent, either in an argument, or in an alcohol consumption contest, or in a physical fight, they will talk about it for hundreds and hundreds of years as if it happened yesterday.” Shan chuckled. “It's quite amusing, especially when each passing day the story grows and grows.”
“The way they wield those axes and hammers, I don't see any need for them to exaggerative. They have the strength of two men, but I still don't see how they can defeat the Drags.”
“Aye, we do have such strength and we can beat those giants.” Thun approached Crystal and sat in Harak's seat.
“He's not going to like it that you took his seat,” Crystal admonished.
“I have no fear of my brother. He may not be leader material but I love him the same.” He winked. “Plus, this is supposed to be my seat.”
“You are the next in line for king,” replied Crystal. “Your brother is a disgrace. I fear for your race if anything ever happens to you.”
Thun didn't respond. He looked at his axe lying in his lap. He contemplated for a moment, then nodded.
Shan briskly moved between them, placing one hand on Thun's shoulder and keeping his other hand on Crystal's. “You two are the leaders and the entire crew knows this, even Harak. You two are fit for the job: Harak is not. However, give Harak some time. He will see more clearly as his ego fades. So, allow him to go through this process, because it will be his own conclusion that will lead him to the truth. But the more you prod him, Crystal, the longer it will take for him to come to any inspired thinking.”
Star Guild Episodes 10 - 18 (Star Guild Saga) Page 25
