Nova

by Lora E. Rasmussen

  Turning to their Braxien crew–member, Marcus ordered “Belgrum, start organizing everything we’d require for planet–side search teams. We may very well need your scouting skills, my friend.”

  “Yesss.” He answered quickly, weariness forgotten as he too stalked off to begin his preparations.

  “Adeline,” Perez started a split–second after Naxos’s departure, motioning for her to follow as he started towards the Bay’s doors. “I want you to give me a full report regarding Excalibur’s status and your search efforts. Leave nothing out.”

  By the time the two had reached Perez’s small Executive Officer’s Office on the CIC/Bridge level of the starship, Adeline had mostly brought him up to speed in regards to the frigate’s status and operations.

  “And though we thankfully were able to recover three out of the six missing Marines of Avernus Corp, based on the survivor’s report, ‘tis very unlikely the remaining three made it, leaving our KIA total at eleven.” Adeline stated as she wearily slid into one of the two chairs that were situated directly across from Perez’s desk. Marcus hadn’t even bothered to sit in his own seat, just slumped down on the corner of his rather cluttered desk.

  Absently rubbing at the overgrown stubble on his face that was not a common feature, the Exec remarked “It could have been a lot worse, Adeline. You’ve done well; very well.”

  Not trusting herself to speak given the losses Excalibur had suffered and the fact that Avara was still not recovered, she could only briefly nod in response.

  Shaking his head and running one large, scarred hand through his spiky hair, the Commander all but spat out, “Fucking Feeder Captain had the Docking Tube Port rigged. No way to know until triggered cuz it was a suicidal move. Not even Rygel spotted it; didn’t care if she or her entire crew died… just as long as the prisoners didn’t reach freedom.”

  Looking at her friend, Adeline could practically see the stress simmering about Perez in waves, knew that some part of him struggled with what he and the others had seen on that ship, a reality magnified by his worry for Captain Serros.

  “Tell me.” She said as calmly as she could.

  By the time Marcus was finished recounting the horror of Nova Squad’s findings on the Karukai freighter, Diana could feel her own exhaustion mating with a wave of nausea born from his descriptions.

  “The worst of it is that I know Serros and Z’arr saw even worse on the prisoner level than we did; I could hear it in Avara’s voice over the Comm.”

  “It’s why we’re out here, Marcus.” She offered, making him meet her eyes.

  After a moment, he nodded. “Damn straight. Now, let’s go over our search grid. Your execution and strategy is flawless. I have only one change.”

  Adeline could tell by the Commander’s voice that she was not going to be pleased with his next words, and could see that he knew it as well. “With Sensors still down and repairs just under two weeks away from completion, we can’t have all the fighters sweeping for Serros and Z’arr. We need to trim down the number to two.”

  “What?” She burst out, unable to help herself. “But… that would reduce our effectiveness by sixty–three percent. We’re already hobbling along with our sensors barely able to identify and communicate with our own, let alone running through the grid out there!”

  With a placating wave of one hand and using his reasonable “Executive Officer’s” voice, Perez responded, “Yes, I know, and I’m not happy about it. But right now, Excalibur is practically a sitting duck out here with half her systems inoperable or limping along. That makes our starfighters our primary means of defense until our hull and sensors are fully back on–line.”

  “Marcus, you said yourself that there are no Human food supplies aboard a Karukai vessel. That means at best, Avara has her carried allotment of two days rations. Even stretching it out to four or five days makes the statistical likelihood of starvation, especially because she’s a bloody Arca VII, totally unacceptable.”

  So unlike her usually unflappably cool demeanor (Diana knew she’d been called the “Ops Ice Queen” in friendly jest more than once), the Lieutenant Commander could hear her voice rising as the last threads of self–possession threatened to fray apart.

  “Diana! Don’t you think I know that?” Marcus asked, no anger in his tone, just pain. “But think; it’s Avara! If she’s trapped in the pod and needs to, she can use her damn Synergy Enhancement to go into stasis. If on–planet, she’ll locate food. We both know she’s tops in survival training. And don’t forget, she’s not alone.”

  “Oh, I find the fact that she’s traveling with a Vosaia who also will have little to no supply of serum to inject in lieu of Feeding to be so comforting. Thanks awfully.”

  By the slow blink of his rich eyes, Diana could see that her sarcastic words had hit the mark. He’d not even considered the issue of their Vosaia Squadmate needing to ingest non–Human food.

  “K’llan would never hurt Avara.” Marcus remarked after a moment’s consideration, much more certain than she. But then, he’d taken time to befriend the Vosaia, as where she’d maintained a polite distance.

  “They will find a way, Adeline. We will keep two fighters on task, but we must have the remaining three of Ghost Squadron immediately on–hand to protect Excalibur.”

  Seeing that she was about to protest further, Marcus quickly cut in, “We need them, Diana. Ghost Squadron is our only real form of defense and maneuverability out there right now, not to mention the best eyes and ears we have. What do you think Avara would do?”

  Damn him to Hell! Diana internally fumed. He knew exactly what to say.

  Given that Commander Marcus Perez had just been forced to follow Captain Serros’s orders to leave her and Z’arr behind to ensure the rest of Nova’s safety above Avara’s own, the answer was only too easy to supply. So was her duty.

  “Fine!” She finally responded to his painfully earnest gaze.

  “We won’t give up until we find her, Diana; I promise you that.” Marcus asserted, his tight voice fierce.

  Regarding each other in absolute yet soul–easing silence, Diana Adeline was pleased to note that the two were in perfect accord.

  No matter what occurred or how long the endeavor took, they would find Captain Avara Serros, or by God, they would never leave this backwater shit–piece of Black Space.

  CHAPTER 18

  “K’llan… K’llan, can you hear me? K’llan, come on back now.”

  It so was hard, given the sweet lassitude that currently caressed her body, but something about that voice overpowered her desire to remain in the honey–thick blackness. Called to her with more than words and tone, pulled her very essence with an undeniable persistence coupled with half–remembered promise.

  Upon opening her eyes, the first sight that greeted K’llan Z’arr was a rosy, muted sort of burnished–gold light that faded away to a brilliant, deep blue. It took a moment, but then she became gently aware that the light was reflected from the control panels that surmounted the too close walls surrounding her, and that the rich blue was Avara Serros’s eyes, pooled with concern and relief both.

  “There you are.” The Human Captain exclaimed a few long heartbeats later, apparently satisfied by what she saw in K’llan’s face. “How do you feel?”

  “Like I have been run over three or four times by a Hurricane driven by a madwoman.” Z’arr answered, finding her throat thick with disuse. “Where are we?” K’llan felt like her head, unhelmeted just as the Human woman’s, was as heavy as tajet stone as she tried to look about. She was seated in a chair and Captain Serros was leaning over her, one unarmored hand gently gripping her shoulder.

  “The surface of Dantis; you were knocked out. What do you remember?” Serros answered, and K’llan knew her friend was asking to make sure K’llan truly was well, ascertain if her memory was intact. Some half–asleep part of her noted that the tactic was a common trauma response test.

  A picture of fire and the sensation of bone–mel
ting heat arose in her mind. With perfect clarity, she remembered Serros’s incandescent eyes and one–armed grip clasping her with desperate strength as they were both slapped into a side–wall of the Ardent’s lift–shaft like a scorpion–stung finch winging madly in search of succor only to break into a rock–face. Then K’llan remembered only blackness.

  “Getting more closely acquainted with a starship wall than I ever wished or thought possible.”

  “Ha!” Serros laughed slightly. “Yep, you have the essentials. Can you get up?”

  Shifting, Z’arr realized she was in one of the cramped Karukai life–pod’s seats, though the shock–frame roll–bars and safety harness had been deactivated. Serros was crouched low before her so as to not hit her head on the ceiling. It was an effort, but the Vosaia was able to make her feet a moment later, though not before a wave of nausea threatened to spill bile down the front of her chest.

  “Steady on.” Serros encouraged, gripping her arm in support.

  It took some time but then her rebelling body settled and she was able to more or less stand on her own though like Serros, had to take care not to hit the roof. “What is our situation?”

  “Well, for the most part, you and I are whole,” Serros started as she led the way out of the pod into the chill night air beyond the hatch, using her arms to pull first herself out of the roof’s aperture and then lending a hand to K’llan to do the same. “However, as far as I can tell, though the pod’s beacon and Comm are both functioning, neither can penetrate the sonite. I also tried to hail any other pods that may have made surface; no response.” She continued after the two both stood atop the pod’s atmo–entry–scarred roof.

  Under the bright lunar light, K’llan could see a vast, saw colored, grass–swept swath of emptiness surrounding them.

  “Additionally, sensors can detect no trace of a settlement or other sentient–life. Matches what we reviewed about the planet.”

  Feeling a sense of infinite emptiness as she regarded the still vista, K’llan asked, “So we have no destination to try for and no means to make contact with the Excalibur for aid?”

  “Not exactly. We do have a pre–determined set of coordinates programmed into the pod’s Nav data–base. It seems to be this Outpost J2 that Perez and Naxos identified in the Karukai Captain’s log. In fact,” she continued, running fingers through her hair as she gazed across the clear expanse and considered their options, “it seems the pod was programmed to land near the outpost. However, the sonite completely crashed any semblance of directional control. And here we are.”

  Hearing the note of frustration in the Human Captain’s voice and somehow knowing there was more, K’llan repeated, “And here we are?”

  “Yes, here we are: approximately one–thousand, seven–hundred, and twenty–three miles out from Outpost J2.”

  “Oh my. And the sonite will be an equal limitation to the Excalibur’s search efforts.”

  “Exactly. Oh my, indeed.” Serros agreed, a quirk of humor playing about her mouth despite the dire situation. “Not to mention, it’s not as if the Karukai will be pleased to invite us in out of the cold for tea.”

  “Not to our benefit, that’s for sure.” Z’arr remarked, eye cocked to convey the double–meaning of her statement.

  “Yes, quite. On the positive side, our Arca DSA Enhancements should allow us to add an extra sixty miles or so per day to our achievable travel distance.” The Captain said, projecting cheer in her tone.

  “That means at best it will take us … approximately twenty days to reach our destination.” Her calculation felt akin to heaping stones atop her own grave.

  “Approximately, yes.”

  “You know, Avara.” K’llan began somewhat hesitantly, predicting what the Shield’s response would be to her next words, “You are an Arca VII, and since you number more than four enhancements and thus, are an Arca Savant, you could easily double the Arca travel rate… Meaning, you could make the station on your own in a significantly reduced period of time. Ten or so days.”

  Shaking her head, midnight–blue eyes obdurate, Serros replied, “Only if I left you behind, and I will not. From a practical perspective, we both need one another to reach and then, as we undoubtedly will have to do, infiltrate the outpost. It is simply not a strategic move, even if I was willing to leave you behind on a personal level, and I am not. Separation is not an option.”

  K’llan could feel the Human’s sincerity as her nya flared with uncompromising certitude.

  “Very well.” The Vosaia responded quietly, feeling her own soul flicker with a mixture of gratitude, respect, and slightly exasperated affection.

  “All right, well, unless I miss my mark, I’d say dawn is about three hours away. We should begin taking stock and gathering supplies, and see if there’s anything we can do to increase our chances of Excalibur locating us through this mess.”

  “Agreed.”

  At K’llan’s motion of acquiescence, the two dropped back into the pod and began their work, with Z’arr investigating means of boosting the pod’s emergency beacon and Serros taking stock of their survival inventory. About an hour past the first rose–painted stroke of dawn, the two Nova Squad members stood together and took measure of what the last four and a half hours of labor had wrought.

  After several frustrating attempts, K’llan had been able to re–route the reserve of the pod’s life–support power pool to boost the rescue beacon signal, an output that would last for approximately twenty–six days. She had also left a coded signal containing the coordinates of their proposed destination and estimated duration of travel.

  For her part, Avara had collected the pod’s survival gear and cannibalized the four separate kits to two compact packs for their journey. Their equipment included most of the essentials they would need to survive the expedition, including two purification and medical kits and four canteens filled with hydro–fluid. The Captain had also gathered sleeping rolls and miniature light–nodes, a portable laser, rope dispenser, grappling–attachments, a miniature generator that also acted as an alarm system, a collapsible shovel, and one two–person tent.

  Additionally, she had located a spare set of clothes for each of them. It was a find made essential by the fact that though their armor had done an admirable job of protecting them from the Ardent’s explosion and successive blasts of metal–melting fire, it had been rendered utterly useless by the laudable deed. The flame had also performed a disservice upon most of their arms, leaving only two functional pistols, Avara’s Volturno SX9s, half a dozen grenades, and three micro–assembler knife hilts. Fortunately, their ammunition was entirely intact, the CD casings having adequately served to protect each dispenser’s payload.

  Of most concern was their food supply, or definitive lack of one. As Karukai did not eat solid food, there were of course no Human–edible victuals available in the pod’s supplies. Since they also did not make use of Vitani Serum as a matter of defiant principle but instead relied upon each other or Clones in the case of emergency, there was also no sustenance for K’llan. The net result of Karukai appetite was that the only food supplies they possessed were what they carried with them as per standard practice.

  It was an amount of food–cubes and Vitani that equaled a two–day supply. Even at quarter–rations, the two would be entirely without sustenance in six days, maximum.

  It was a frightening proposition. Even more so, K’llan suspected, for herself than Avara, given the driving need for Feeding that was every Vosaia’s legacy. As Z’arr and Serros slung the packs the Shield Operative had organized over their shoulders and met each other’s eyes, it was an issue that K’llan could tell both of them were aware of but chose not to discuss in detail until they had to.

  One step at a time, as they say, and they had only too many steps to place on the path before them.

  “Shall we?” Captain Serros asked.

  Studying her companion, K’llan could not help but to reflect on how strange Serros appeared i
n the borrowed Karukai garb that she wore. A somewhat loose, dark scarlet, long–sleeved jacket with a removable hood covered her naval standard, dark royal blue undershirt, and crimson–seamed, somewhat tight black utility trousers did the same for the lower part of her body. Avara’s boots and weapons were the only familiar elements to her accouterment. K’llan could only picture how she herself looked in the same outfit; much, she imagined, like snow and ice smeared with blood.

  Not, she thought acidly, a look for any self–respecting Vosaia, but very well suited to the Karukai.

  “Yes, let us begin.”

  The two started out at a standard quick walking pace to get the feel of the land they navigated and to preserve their Arca enhanced strength in case of threat from the unknown but certainly extant local fauna.

  As they traveled, no matter in which direction she turned, K’llan saw endless miles of gray–green grass, flowing with the currents of the wind like sea–water tumbled by a warm summer gust during the bright light of day. So apt was the comparison, at times K’llan fancied she could have literally dove into the green and simply begun swimming her way forward through the grass eddies.

  Indeed, the meadowland was so thick that she and Avara were forced to search the ground until they came across a reasonably well–worn animal path heading in the general direction of their destination.

  As they moved along the traverse, the hot air was thick with the clicks and zzzsszts of springing cicadas the size of mice calling to one another, the sound syncopated with the gentle snap of both jeweled and muted butterfly wings. Several times the two women heard rustling noises working through the space surrounding them and spotted tiny, eight limbed rodents with stubby tails flying through the brush. Green, yellow, and gray grass snakes and lizards were also a common sight as they sat sunbathing along the path. Once, a sort of fawn colored feline the size of a hawk growled over his still–freshly bleeding prey, a small, mud–colored pig–like mammal. The cat grabbed his kill in sharp–toothed jaws and slunk into the grass to secure his prize. Overhead, the piercing calls of birds of prey slashed into the ever present low hum of insect and animal life.