She fiddled with the guidance computer’s controls. They were unlike any Ansaran or Dinari ship she’d piloted, relatively flat and multi-colored, with the sort of ergonomic appeal only the best designers would understand. In her universe, as long as the controls functioned, that was enough. She looked around the long and sleek interior of the ship. Every surface was relatively functional, but they had a sort of visual appeal that was almost superfluous. The stitching of the leather seats, the size and number of the screens, and even the holo emitters were a step above other vessels.
Sestra felt Master Liam’s large hand gently grasp her shoulder.
“Did what you see on the surface frighten you, Sestra?” he asked, kindly enough.
Sestra’s eyes watched the desolate moon disappear out the side window as the ship accelerated toward its destination. For a moment she basked in the warm feeling that swirled inside her from his touch. She thought about his question, countless answers coming into her mind and quickly fading. She was frightened to give an answer which would make her appear too weak.
“It is not a thing I expect I’ll grow accustomed to,” she finally said.
Liam nodded and moved to sit beside her in the co-pilot’s chair, its white leather creaking as he leaned back and put his feet up on the console. His messy blond hair was full of tangles, a few strands of it sticking to his pale cheeks. He turned toward her and used his ice-blue eyes to peer into her, something which only he was capable. Sestra avoided them as often as possible for just that reason.
“You are sure your contacts are reliable? They’ve seen it near Rumani?”
Sestra briefly locked her eyes onto his and nodded before pretending to check the flight readouts on her console.
She replied, “It might not look like much from the outside, but it has an unmistakable sound to it, I’m told. The flow of the Aether, he’s said. He has an ear for that sort of thing.”
Liam looked out the cockpit’s long, curved window at the stars, appearing to move ever so slightly as they accelerated toward their destination.
“Why not engage directly?” he asked, “You know I prefer to get to the point.”
Sestra shook her head and brought up a holo of the star charts to watch as their journey continued. The soft orange hue of the emitters projected a clear depiction of the Ansara System, even down to the swirls of the gas giant Indra, violent in their everlasting dance of hydrogen, helium, and the bevy of chemicals and compounds which helped to formulate the massive planet.
Death Wish removed her gaze from the mesmerizing astronomical chart and looked to Liam.
“My contact says it’s owner is easily spooked. It would be better to let it come to us. In my short time in this universe, patience has been rewarded. It would be foolish to attempt anything rash in this case.”
Liam placed his hands on his knees and bent toward the star charts, replying distractedly, “And you’re sure he’ll come?”
Sestra nodded and answered, “The seeds have been planted and the initial tests of the device were successful. If we could bring them through on this moon, then we can complete the needed modifications to the ship for a much larger test on the surface of Rumani. I know of a place where we won’t be bothered.”
“Very well,” Liam said with his trademark smirk, looking away from the hologram. “It seems in this universe the student has surpassed the master.”
Sestra’s eyes widened and she couldn’t help but gawk at him. For a moment she tried to think of something appropriate to say. When nothing came to her, she simply responded, “You honor me, Master Liam.”
“You’ve done me a great service in this place,” Liam said, turning in his chair toward the co-pilot’s console. He continued, “I will repay the favor.”
He leaned forward and gripped the guidance controls.
“Now, let’s see if this ship does what the Ansarans say it can do.”
10
One Week Later, The Garuda
Saturn used her teeth to remove the cork from a dusty bottle of liquor, spitting it out over her left shoulder. She took a swig of the half-empty flagon and felt the familiar warmth spread to each of her extremities. It was a welcome feeling given the cold of The Garuda’s bridge. Her free hand felt over the dash to the memory core, glowing blue and bright in the low light of the cockpit. She found the correct control and a hologram of a memorable face appeared before her, picking up where the recording left off.
“This is Liam Kidd of Earth. We’ve picked up a planet relatively close to our position. From this distance our sensors can only pick up so much, but the planet does look promising. We’ll continue—”
“Who are you talking to?” Saturn’s hologram asked before draping her arms around Liam’s shoulders.
“Someday this information might be useful, either to us, or...”
“No one from Earth is ever going to find us. We’ve traveled farther than any human in history. It’ll be millennia before humans make it this far into the galaxy. If ever...”
“Still, talking helps,” Liam told her.
Saturn’s hologram shrugged and released his shoulders. She began walking away down the corridor and said, “Don’t take too long, Ju-Long and I need your help in the cargo bay.”
“Yeah,” Liam said. “I’ll finish up.”
Liam stared at the camera for a moment, seeming to have lost his train of thought.
“Where was I? Right, discovering this planet has lifted the crew’s spirits a bit. There’s a lot left to do,” he said with a smile creeping up his cheek, “Until next time.”
The hologram faded away and Saturn was left with tears streaming down her face. She took another pull from the bottle and swallowed more than she intended, coughing as a bit of the fiery liquid went down the wrong pipe. Saturn balled up her right hand and hit the console hard with the bottom of her fist. The purple energy which flowed silently through clear piping overhead began to churn more rapidly. The cockpit rumbled and the console’s lights danced, flickering in and out with no semblance of order or rhythm.
Dinari symbols pirouetted across her dark screen in their brilliant blue-white hue. It took longer than normal for the chip in her neck to translate the glyphs. Was it translating? The alcohol had made her thoughts fuzzy. It appeared that the symbols changed down to the pixels in the screen; changed into Earth Common. One letter at a time the symbols reformed like an unlocking cipher. The energy which flowed around the cockpit’s power conduits morphed, transforming from a bright purple to a deep red that she’d seen only once before. One by one, the letters solidified.
S—A—T—U—R—N—!
Saturn went pale, the blood rushing from her face and limbs. Her stomach seemed to fall right out of her body and her throat swelled with words that wouldn’t come. The bottle of liquor slipped from her fingers and fell to the grated metal floor, breaking into pieces and spilling what little fluid remained inside.
It couldn’t be, she thought. Could it?
Saturn hastily typed into the console, Liam?
Here, the console responded.
How? Saturn keyed, ignoring the tears sprinkling on her hands as she did.
The Union.
Saturn mouthed the words as she read, though reading them didn’t make it any more real to her. At any moment she expected to wake in her quarters, drenched in a chilling sweat.
Where are you?
Don’t know. Dark. Not alone.
The Garuda?
Yes. Always.
Saturn sat back in her chair and gazed up at the power conduits, watching as the crimson flowed restlessly. The Garuda, The Union, none of it made sense to her. Was Liam somewhere in that mess of red?
I miss you, she typed, closing her eyes and letting the tears tumble once more.
I miss you too, the console read.
The red glow that had bathed the cockpit began to fade back to the familiar purple.
Not much time. She’s too strong.
Don’t go.
/>
I’ll see you again.
“Don’t go!” Saturn screamed as she typed.
There was no response.
The cockpit returned to its normal state, the purple light reflecting off the worn metal bulkheads, mirrored in the cockpit’s window.
Saturn bent forward and placed her elbows against her knees, bracing herself as she sobbed into her palms. They weren’t tears of joy or of loss. Rather, some sickening feeling in between; a feeling of helplessness mixed with relief. Saturn wiped her eyes and sniffed the trailing liquid back up her nose. She pushed herself up and out of the pilot’s chair, her boots crunching on broken glass. Saturn hardly noticed. There was only one person on the ship that had the answers she sought, and she was tired of getting the run-around.
Saturn found her Dinari crewmate in the hold unpacking the cargo pallet. He was using his claws to open unmarked and sealed packages, then sorting them by category next to the pallet with meticulous attention to detail. When she approached, he placed the package in his hand down on the proper stack and then straightened up to face her, a grimace coming over his countenance. Saturn had made no effort to hide her annoyance and it was clear that Nix caught on quick.
“We need to talk,” Saturn rattled off while crossing her arms out of frustration, unsure what else to do with her appendages to stop the shaking.
Nix nodded and gestured to a nearby crate which was at sitting height. Saturn ignored his offer, staring him down with a cold expression.
“What about?” Nix asked cautiously.
“I think you know what.”
Nix hung his head, his large eyelids drooping and concealing part of his golden orbs. When he spoke, his tone conveyed his frustration.
“This again? Saturn, The Union is complicated. I’ve already told you what I know about it.”
Saturn squinted and replied skeptically, “See, now why don’t I believe you?”
Nix’s expression turned grave, his manner stern.
“This has to stop, Saturn. I’ve been easy on you to respect your right to grieve, but—”
“Grieve?” Saturn interrupted, raising her voice and letting her tears fall once more. “What do you know about grief?”
“You’re not the only one who lost someone that day. I lost Sestra, one of my oldest friends,” Nix said, voice shaking. He continued, “and don’t forget Liam was my friend too.”
Saturn opened her mouth to speak but thought better of the snide remark she was about to make. Instead, she replied evenly, “I’m sorry for your loss, but you can’t tell me you didn’t know.”
“Didn’t know what?” Nix said with an air of exasperation.
Saturn searched his gold eyes, looking for any sign of deceit. She found none. Did he really not know?
“Liam is alive.”
Nix squeezed Saturn’s shoulder and shook his head.
“I’ve told you, Liam’s spirit, his life force, has left an imprint in this ship. But that’s all it is. The whisper of a ghost. Like the Garuda, he has some influence over the systems, but it’s more reflex than anything. Liam can never come back the way he was. He’ll never have a corporeal form.”
“I spoke to him.”
“What?” Nix asked suspiciously.
“Well, not spoke per se. But we communicated. Through the console.”
The Dinari’s eyes slid to one side as though contemplating her words, but he finally shook his head, dismissing the notion.
“That’s not possible.”
“Has another person ever undertaken The Union, Dinari or otherwise?”
Nix looked to the ground and shook his head.
“Elder Bartle only spoke of the possibility, though to my knowledge no one has actually achieved any measure of success. Until Liam, of course.”
Saturn felt a brief bout of hope boil up inside her.
“Follow me.”
She took him by the hand and led him along the winding corridor to the cockpit. Saturn had Nix sit in the pilot’s chair and she pointed to the screen excitedly.
“What am I supposed to see?”
Saturn leaned over him and scrolled through the logs on the screen. Navigational readings, sensor data on an asteroid they’d passed several hours before, and ship status analytics. No Liam.
“Impossible. It was right here.”
Nix winced and looked down to his feet. He’d stepped in the broken glass from her bottle and now a trickle of blood dripped into the cracks between his scales. He gazed up at her with pity in his eyes.
“Saturn...” Nix began.
“This isn’t what it looks like,” she said. Saturn then pointed to the conduits above her, “The Aether, it turned from purple to red, just like at the temple in the Sand Sea.”
Nix rose from the worn leather chair and locked her in a long embrace. It took a few moments, but eventually she hugged him back.
He whispered to her, “The others don’t have to know about this. Let me help you.”
“I know what I saw,” Saturn’s voice quivered. She repeated, even softer than before, “I know what I saw.”
11
“What are you doing?”
Ju-Long peered over at the hologram hovering over Astrid’s console. It was a navigational chart of the Ansara System, with their position marked in bright yellow along with a dotted line which trailed behind them from the planet Garuda. Astrid manipulated the image with a pale blue hand, her indigo lips moving as she spoke to herself, apparently doing a bit of math in her head. Her forehead was scrunched in concentration and the blue in her keen eyes swirled as a galaxy would, slow and deliberate.
“I’m making a slight course adjustment,” Astrid said through a smirk. “With a little finesse, we can slip between Narra and its twin moons and use the planet for a gravity assist. It should at least shave a few days off our journey.”
“Anything to spend a little less time in this tin can.”
Even with a translation chip the phrase seemed to be lost on Astrid.
Ju-Long continued, “If we’re going to be stuck in here, we might as well see a little action.”
“What do you call what we did last night?” Astrid said through a sultry expression. She added, “And this morning...”
“Hey, I didn’t say being stuck in here didn’t have its perks. And for the record that’s a different kind of action,” Ju-Long replied, placing a hand on Astrid’s toned upper thigh.
“You mean laser blasts and explosions?” Astrid probed.
“You really get me, don’t you?”
Astrid smiled.
“How long until we reach Narra?” Ju-Long asked, insinuating more than a course update.
Astrid slid toward him so she was hanging off the pilot’s seat and leaned into his touch.
“Long enough.”
•
A red light flashed urgently in the dimly lit cockpit, blaring an irritating howl of an alarm. Ju-Long huffed and used one hand to prop himself up from the floor and the other to feel blindly for the indicator. His index finger brushed the switch and the flashing abated.
“What is it?” Astrid asked while tightening the brown leather drawstrings on her form-fitting top.
Ju-Long brought himself up into the pilot’s chair and scrolled through the readouts, his bare chest heaving as he caught his breath.
“We’re within two hundred thousand kilometers of Narra, and we’re not alone.”
Astrid pulled her left boot over her foot and sat in the co-pilot’s chair while fighting with the right.
“What is it? Ansaran? Kraven?”
“It’s a small Ansaran vessel. Only one aboard.”
“I’ll signal the others.”
Astrid moved to use the intercom but was stopped short.
“No need,” Nix called, striding into the cockpit with Saturn in tow.
“Don’t you sleep?” Astrid asked, annoyed.
Nix shot her an irritated glance.
“The alarm was blaring in half the sh
ip.”
“Enough,” Saturn said, approaching the center console at the front of the cockpit. “Time ‘til intercept?”
“Just under five minutes,” Ju-Long responded while bringing up the communications array.
“Hail him,” Saturn ordered. “Audio only.”
Ju-Long complied, sending out a signal on all known Ansaran frequencies. He pointed to Saturn when a signal came back.
“Ansaran vessel,” she began forcefully, “You’re outmatched. Lower your weapons and prepare to be boarded.”
Static came through from the other ship. A single blue laser flashed from the Ansaran vessel’s aft cannon. The Garuda shook momentarily.
“Cut the comm link,” Nix said.
Ju-Long flipped a switch on the dash.
“No significant damage,” Astrid reported.
Nix dug his claws into the side of Astrid’s worn leather seat. Ju-Long knew the Dinari always grew uncomfortable when lasers started flying at his ship.
Saturn’s eyes narrowed.
“Bring us closer and prepare to dock. If he fires again take out the aft gun.”
Saturn smacked Ju-Long lightly on his bare shoulder and pointed at him like a scolding mother.
“Remember, we need this ship intact. Lowest power setting only.”
Ju-Long clenched his jaw and scowled, returning his gaze to the console in front of him.
“You could squeeze the fun out of anything, couldn’t you?”
Saturn ignored him and checked in with Astrid. The Ansaran adjusted course marginally to make a clean intercept. When The Garuda was within ten thousand meters Saturn ordered her to deploy the docking clamps.
Nix gazed out the side of the curving bay window, watching as they approached the other ship.
The Lost Corsair (The Corsair Uprising Space Opera Series Book 4) Page 5
