by Brian Fisher
Chapter 37
"What do you want with T'Sula?" Kamira asked, looking up from her work. She was hard at work adjusting the shield harmonic regulators when the thought crossed her mind. Corin had asked her to help him with readying his ship for the fight that he knew was coming, and she had accepted on the condition that she would be able to contact Redemption as soon as they were out of hyperspace.
"It's kind of complicated really." Corin grunted as he pulled himself out from under the shield generator. "I need her help, and she's actually the only person that can do what I need."
"You know her reputation as well as I do, probably better." He sat up, wiping his hands on his trousers as he looked at Kamira. "Everybody in the circles that I've been traveling in knows who T'Sula Mir is, and what she's capable of. They're all scared of her."
"What circles are you talking about?" she turned her full attention on him, quietly resolving that if he was going to hurt her cousin in any way, she would make him pay in ways that he couldn't begin to fathom.
"Look, Kamira, I know you mean well, but there are a few things here that you don't want to know." Corin got up and paced around the shield generator for a moment before settling on a console across from Kamira.
"Try me." Kamira glared at him, willing him to do what she asked. "I'm the only family T'Sula has left, so you had better come out with it."
"Alright." Corin let out a deep sigh as he began to talk. It wasn't easy, or simple, but he started at the beginning, back when he first came across Brutus.
Corin Dante stood at the edge of a precipice, looking out over the rocky wasteland that was his prison. He was a thin man of barely twenty. Despite the warmth in the air, Corin pulled his tattered, loose fitting black jumpsuit close about his wiry frame. Dawn was breaking over the eastern horizon, chasing the night shadows into their daytime hideaways. Soon the sun would be overhead, relentlessly scorching the rock and everything that dared brave the hostility of the daylight. He faced east, almost directly into the sun, daring it to rise and burn him.
Memories skittered through Corin’s mind, reminding him of the path that led him here to Darwin, and refusing to be locked away. Faces both laughing and scornful watched him in his mind’s eye as he turned away from the cliff and began the trek to the bottom. Carefully picking his way through the sand and rock, Corin passed quickly down the narrow trail.
Hardy scrub and brush sprouted from the ground giving a bit of sanctuary to the insects and small animals that inhabited the wasteland. A myriad of colors from tans to the faintest green dotted the sun-bleached canvas. The light grew brighter, nearly blinding Corin as he trekked east, the same as he had the previous day, and the day before that. He trekked as he would until he either died, or found escape from this ruined planet.
Mixed sporadically throughout the landscape was dead, cancerous land. The dead spots were barren, even for a desert. They stretched for leagues in every direction, allowing nothing to grow. Corin moved quickly, avoiding these poisonous lands as if the mere sight of them could kill.
He walked constantly until the sun passed the horizon directly behind him. There was little cover, and no food or water. His tongue had begun to swell from dehydration and his stomach ached from lack of food. Still, Corin continued deep into the night until he fell to his knees, unable to move another step. There he wavered and collapsed.
Darkness swarmed over him, rushing past his beaten body, imbedding itself in his mind and consuming his psyche. "Turn us in? You're going to pay Dante. I won't kill ya. Not here anyway, not yet." The voice, Malek's voice, kept hammering inside his head. His body ached, wracked with pain from exhaustion and old wounds. His ribs burned, borne of a fire deep inside that could not be extinguished.
Corin screamed as he scrambled to his feet. Not yet fully awake, he stumbled backward, tripping over loose rock and fell hard against the ground. Gingerly he rolled to his side and forced himself up, shutting away the pain that coursed through his body.
Darwin's twin moons shone clear and bright in the night sky, giving nearly as much light as the dawn. Corin stood for a moment and then began walking east, not for much purpose other than habit and something to do. The day wore on towards afternoon and the terrain began to change. The passage grew more difficult and the colors drained away, turning from sun-bleached tan to sickly gray.
Corin searched the horizon for any sign of life. There was none. The dead land stretched farther than he could see in all directions. Unwilling to return from where he came, Corin ventured forth into the nightmare.
The pungent stench of death and decay assaulted him, forcing the air from his lungs, threatening to overwhelm him and bring him down into a place where the living were not allowed. Dead scrub brush crumbled to putrid dust as Corin trudged forward, striving to reach the far horizon. A handful of bloated, rotting carcasses sprawled near a festering watering hole.
Corin covered his mouth as he passed the body of a female Sand Panther, rotting and grotesque. In life, the cat would easily dwarf a man, its muscles sleek and powerful.
Despite his thirst Corin refused to bring the rancid water to his parched lips. Muscles cramping, and eyes yellowed from lack of water, he walked away from the watering hole. He was barely out of sight of the lake of poison when he heard it. At first, he wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him, or if the solitude had finally overwhelmed him. But no, the sound was real.
In the near distance, it was there. A soft, barely audible cry reached his ears. The voice was not human, but animal. Corin paused, and then thinking better of it, he continued on.
A few heartbeats later, Corin heard the cry again. It was not feral, or primal, but anguished, almost pleading. Corin shook his head, chastising himself for the foolish actions that inevitably create more trouble than he would prefer. Still questioning himself, he walked towards the cry.
The animal lay only a few dozen meters from Corin. It was a small Sand Panther, no more than a few months old. Its dark tan coat was matted in filth, and the cat's breathing was ragged and labored.
He approached slowly, keeping steady and making no sudden movements. When the cat didn't respond, Corin moved closer until he could place his hand gently on the animal’s mussel. When it stirred, he gently stroked the cat’s ears until its eyes labored open and fixed on him. Pain registered in the cat’s eyes before they closed again.
Not knowing why, Corin reached down and hoisted the young cat onto his shoulders. Silently Corin started walking again. He continued east until the scorching sun began to set. As darkness approached, his stride faltered, and he collapsed with the cat on top of him. Neither man nor animal moved for some time.
The heat from the day began to fade and the small bundle of filthy tan fur started to move. Ever so gently, the cat nuzzled Corin’s cheek. Tentatively, a swollen pink tongue licked at Corin. Finally, he stirred and forced himself up.
With the cat on his shoulders, he continued into the night. Approaching midnight, the land started to change. Bushes started to show life, and the stench of death began to fade. Corin stumbled and was forced to sit. He eased the cat from his shoulders and stretched his aching muscles. He lay back against a large rock and rested. Soon a fitful sleep claimed him.
Dawn arrived with a whisper of what the day would bring. Wind hurled sand, brush, and small stones at the stirring forms of Corin and the little Sand Panther. Corin shielded his eyes and peered into the fury of the oncoming storm. He was far from the heart of the storm, yet already bleeding from the flying debris. The winds were fierce, hurling massive boulders hundreds of meters into the air, to come crashing down with devastating force.
Corin hefted the cat onto his shoulders and tried to run. The cat's weight bore him down quickly, but he struggled relentlessly back to his feet. Even with his tremendous effort, Corin could not out run the storm. The wind picked Corin up and hurled him and his charge a dozen meters before slamming them mercilessly into the unforgiving ground. Corin felt his bones crack
from the impact. A blanket of stars covered his eyes as boulders and stones crashed to the ground all around his supine form.
Blindly, Corin felt for his companion. Finding the cat next to him, he started to rise. A giant boulder whistled as it flew past, then hammered the ground, then with an audible crack, it disappeared. Corin grabbed the Sand Panther and raced for the gaping hole in the ground. The storm's fury grew as he ran, pelting him with sand and stone. The whistling of projectiles screamed in his ears as he ran and dove into the hole.
Corin fell for a few moments through the black abyss, then crashed into something hard, and began to slide. He slid, picking up speed, and then dropped again into the darkness. His fall was short, but the impact from his landing caused the stars to dance before his eyes, and then forced him to lose consciousness.
When he awoke, the storm had passed and daylight crept like a thief through the hole in the sky. Battered, bruised, and broken, Corin tried to sit up, gasping in pain as he went. The light was dim, but enough to see by. The hole in the sky was actually a ruined ceiling high above. A few meters from where he stood lay his feline companion alive, but barely. A couple dozen starships of different shapes and sizes stood throughout the cavernous room. The ships were in various states of disrepair, some were aged and broken down, while others were barely a pile of scrap.
Corin managed to walk over to the cat, and gently stroked the animal’s ears, wondering why it was that he felt the need to help the injured feline. He closed his eyes against his own pain, shook his head, and walked away to explore his new surroundings.
Set deep against the far wall was a door. Above the door, a faded red cross was emblazoned on the peeling white paint. Corin hastened his step, hoping that there would be something of value hidden beyond.
The door stood slightly ajar, and was difficult to open. Beyond the door was a long hallway devoid of light. Heedless of any danger, Corin pressed on. His eyes adjusted quickly to the dark, easily finding the shapes of more doors along the otherwise deserted hall.
Corin went to the first door. It opened with little effort to a small room filled with large boxes. He quickly made his way from door to door, until he found what he was looking for. Set against the far wall of the last room was a large bed. It looked uncomfortable, but it wasn't for sleeping anyway. Surrounding the bed was a series of monitors, controls, and an independent power supply.
A light layer of dust covered the apparatus, but it easily wiped clean. Corin pressed the power button, and was rewarded with lights and a low beep. After a moment of hums and vibrations from inside the machine, a small screen flashed to life in front of his eyes.
It read: DIAGNOSTICS COMPLETE. DIO-BED OPERATING WITHIN NORMAL PARAMETERS.
Corin smiled. A measure of hope had returned to his life, giving him purpose once again. He turned slowly and walked out of the room and down the hall. The daylight had faded to twilight when he reached the hanger. Quickening his step, Corin reached the cat. Its ragged breaths were labored and growing farther and farther between. He gingerly picked the cat up in his arms and hurried back to the Dio-Bed.
The bed was humming quietly as Corin set the wounded animal on its working surface, and pressed the start button. He wasn't sure how the machine worked, other than force fields and forced bioelectrical manipulation. Corin stepped away from the machine. There was nothing more that he could do for the Sand Panther anyway. Either the cat would heal, or it would die. Only the machine could save it now.
Corin sank to the floor against the wall next to the Dio-Bed. He closed his eyes and let his chin lower to his chest. Sleep would not take him, no matter how he tried. His mind warred against itself, battling for reason and purpose. Why did he fight to save the cat? What was he going to do when he was finally able to get his hands on the vermin that put him here? What was he doing on this wreck of a planet?
He knew the answer to the last question but not the first, or the second. Something inexplicable had drawn him to the stricken animal and try as he did, he couldn't understand why that bothered him. Was it fate, or perhaps a conscience that he wasn't sure he even had? Corin decided not to dwell on the questions, but instead to do something constructive.
Painfully he forced himself to his feet. The Dio-Bed was still working on its patient, so Corin wandered off in search of something to occupy his mind and time. He took his time exploring, wandering through the dark. It occurred to Corin that he was in a military base of some kind that had been hastily abandoned for one reason or another.
Corin searched the first level of the sprawling underground base. He found a few items of interest, but nothing of real use that would help him affect an escape or sustain life.
Weary from lack of sustenance Corin returned to the Dio-Bed. The machine had run its cycle and opened to release the cat. The animal dropped gracefully to the floor and stood looking at Corin. Its eyes no longer burned with pain, but something else entirely. Silently it padded over to its savior, and nuzzled his hand.
"Looks like I'm going to have to come up with a name for you if you keep that up." Corin gently scratched the cat behind his ears. "I think Brutus might fit pretty well." He patted Brutus' head, and then walked over to the Dio-Bed controls. He quickly activated them, and lay down on the cold, hard bed.
Corin tried to relax as the machine began to work. At first he felt the pressure of the micro forcefields snapping into place about him, and the surge of power as the machine adjusted and manipulated his bioelectricity. His breathing slowed, and his eyes grew heavy. Sleep would soon come.
Corin breathed a deep sigh of relief, which he hadn't realized he had been holding, as a deep, silent slumber overtook him. Minutes stretched into hours, and into the next day before he opened his eyes. Hunger rampaged through his empty gullet. Suppressing the growl in his stomach as he sat up, Corin swung his feet over the side of the bed.
He heard the soft padding of feet before he laid eyes upon Brutus. The cat stopped near the Dio-Bed, and looked patiently up at Corin. The filth was gone from his fur, replaced by a healthier, if dull sheen.
"Alright, let's see if we can find something to eat around this place." Corin muttered, sliding off the bed, and starting towards the open door. He didn't bother to look behind him as he walked. He knew that Brutus was there. For better or for worse, the cat was with him.
The darkness stretched into infinity, pierced only by the hole in the ceiling far above the hanger floor. Corin's eyes quickly grew accustomed to the ever present twilight in the hanger as he searched for a source of nourishment. The thin source of daylight gave way to night, and still there was no food.
Frustration and fatigue finally forced Corin to rest. He crawled into the seat of an old fighter, and leaned his head against the aged seat. Closing his eyes, he sighed, and then opened them again. When he opened his eyes, he caught the feint outline of a hand held light. Smiling to himself at his good fortune, he reached out and turned it on. His smile broadened as a bright beam shot forth, piercing the gloom.
Reenergized, Corin scrambled down out of the fighter and renewed his search. Near the back of the hanger, in a dark, secluded room, he found it. Nestled along the far wall sat a Matter Reclamation Unit. It was large, blocky, and showing its age, but it looked to be in good repair. Corin searched out the power supply and switched the unit on. Nothing happened. The power was dead.
Frustrated, Corin tried again, but to no avail. He looked over the unit again, hoping that he had simply missed something. He hadn't. Angry, he kicked a nearby cabinet. It clanged and rattled like there was something inside. Corin knelt down and opened the door. Inside the cabinet was an old military style hand-crank power generator.
Corin pulled the generator out and plugged in the MRU. As he started to crank, the power indicator came up. He continued until the battery was full, and then went back to the MRU. After hooking up the generator, the MRU quietly ran a diagnostic, and then indicated that it was operating within normal parameters.
Corin glanced around the room for something to put into the machine. A piece of metal, about the length of his arm and half as wide, lay against the far wall. Corin hefted it, and placed it inside the MRU. He closed and sealed the door, then scrolled through a drop down menu, found what he needed, and pressed start.
A handful of breaths passed as the MRU broke down the metal, and reassembled the molecules into what Corin needed. When it finished, he opened the door. Inside sat two metal bowls filled with a steaming pink nutritional paste. Corin pulled out a bowl and set it on the floor, then took the other for himself.
Brutus padded over to the bowl on the floor, sniffed it, and then quickly devoured his meal. Corin ate quickly, and then placed both bowls in the MRU, along with some debris he had found on the floor. He scrolled through the drop down menu, input what he wanted, and waited for the machine to accomplish the task. When it was finished, Corin removed two containers of cool water. Taking one for himself, he set the other on the floor for Brutus, and sighed as he enjoyed the refreshing, life giving liquid.
Corin closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. He looked at his companion and wondered at his situation. The improbability of it did not waste itself on a closed mind. Life from the near certainty of death, companionship out of abject isolation, and possibility in spite of desperation seemed unlikely or impossible, but here they were. He was alive, Brutus stood by his side, and there was the possibility of escape.
Finishing off his water, Corin wiped his lips and set out to find a ship. He searched the upper level of the hanger and found nothing new, so he moved to the lower levels. Corin examined each level as he went. The first couple of levels were hangers filled with ships that would never fly again. As he penetrated deeper into the base, the ships grew fewer, until there was only one.
Deep underground, at the lowest hanger level, Corin beheld a ship. Aside from the dust and debris scattered about, it looked to be in pristine condition. He approached quickly, curbing his enthusiasm as he went. The ship was larger than a fighter, almost the size of a small freighter or transport. Roughly triangular, its lines flowed smoothly from the nose, out through the stubby wings, and back to the powerful engines. In all, the ship was a mixture of grace, and brute force.
He knew immediately that this was the ship he had been looking for. As he drew closer, he realized that what he was looking at was nothing other than an escort class vessel; a small ship designed safely take convoys across vast expanses of space, protecting them from whomever, and whatever they came across. Whatever it took, this was now his ship.
Corin walked up the ramp and opened a small hatch on the side of the ship. Pale light glowed inside the airlock, lightly illuminating the gray composite bulkheads that ran the length of the airlock and corridors. Traction plating of the same material covered the deck, while conduits of various colors and sizes ran in all directions overhead. The air was stale and chill inside the ship, but Corin continued on.
"Come on Brutus; let's see what we can find in here." Corin patted Brutus on the head then walked deeper into the ship. Together they explored from nose to tail, in all compartments, and each deck.
In the engine room, Corin found a problem. A high-pressure coolant pipe had ruptured and coated a control panel with coolant, shorting out the electronics. Dust mixed with coolant covered the blackened console in a thick green paste.
Corin swore under his breath as he wiped off the console. Looking around, he spotted a tool locker along the far wall. Crossing the room quickly, he opened the locker door, and was rewarded with tools of all shapes and sizes neatly arrayed inside the locker. Taking the wrenches that he needed, Corin went back to the console and opened it up.
The motherboard was a study in charcoal. Corin reached in and worked the ruined parts loose, then set them on the deck at his feet.
"Well Brutus, so much for the gift horse." he sighed and looked around the engine room once more. Corin paused as he gazed at the ruptured pipe. His mind worked over the problems before him. He was stranded on a dead planet, and the people that put him there had designs on his existence. None of this was acceptable. He would have to find the answer, or the answer would have to present itself.
Corin massaged his temples as he began to walk. The dim lights guided his feet in no particular direction. He meandered out of engineering, and down a wide corridor with open doorways along both sides. Faint sounds, almost too quiet for Corin to hear, chirped and beeped from out of an open door ahead of him on the left. Corin quickened his pace and burst through the door. His eyes grew wide, and a smile erupted across his weathered face.
Covering the wall in front of him, sat a Reclamation Unit with its flashing lights indicating that it was fully operational. The MRU gleamed in the dim light, practically begging Corin to use it. It was a newer, larger model than the unit upstairs, with a self-contained continual power source built in. Corin strode quickly to the control panel located on the right side of the machine, and with a touch, activated it.
Drop down menus appeared on the large, dusty screen. Corin scrolled through the menu until he found the engineering section. Choosing that one, he searched through the seemingly endless list of parts until he found the items that he was looking for. A replacement computer board, coolant pipe, and a few containers of coolant later Corin was on his way back to the engine room.
The repairs went quickly, and before long Corin was running diagnostics on the ship. Engines, flight controls, environmental systems, navigation, and weapons all appeared to be in working order.
Corin sat in the black, formfitting pilot’s seat, looking out into the dark hanger, his feet resting on a console. "Who do you think owns this ship?" he asked Brutus, scratching the cat behind the ears. Brutus simply stared back at him and purred.
Standing up, Corin brushed off his tattered, grimy jumpsuit. "Come on." he motioned for Brutus to follow. The two walked through the ship, and out into the hanger. Picking up a light, Corin started to search for any signs of life that he might have missed.
The corridors were dark, save for the piercing light that Corin carried. Dust drifted in his wake, marking his passage. He traversed the passages quickly, until he found it.
Brutus snarled, raising his hackles as he entered the room. Crumpled in the far corner of the deserted supply room lay the remnants of a man. Blood had soaked into his shredded flight suit and long ago dried against the dust-covered wounds.
"Come on Brutus, let's go." Corin turned and walked back to the ship. He climbed into the pilot’s seat, strapped in, and began his pre-flight checks. The computer sped through the checks, and indicated that the ship's systems were functioning within parameters. Corin fired the engines and raised the ship off the deck. He smoothly guided the vessel out into the scorching sunlight, and up, out of the atmosphere to freedom.
The ship erupted from the scorched prison beneath, and into the vast emptiness of space. Corin sat back in his seat and relaxed, if only for a moment. His time on Darwin had been relatively brief, but its impact would haunt him forever. He would have his vengeance. There was no question in his mind about that.
Corin checked through his ships stores, an oversight that he chided himself for. Things were in order, but his raw materials were lacking. Still there was enough food and fuel for him to get away from Darwin. Reviewing the star charts, Corin selected a system neighboring this death stricken pit and input the coordinates.
He would have his vengeance on Malek soon enough. Now, it was time to find the one person in the galaxy that Malek was afraid of. It was time to find T'Sula Mir.
Kamira watched silently as Corin stood and again wiped his hands on his trousers. She didn't know exactly what had transpired between Corin and the man named Malek. But, she had heard T'Sula mention him before, and it was never pleasant. She also understood what Corin had gone through to find her cousin.
Without saying another word, Corin Dante left to speak with T'Sula Mir.
