In hyperspace the distance between star systems was compacted. For a fast cruiser like the Outworld Ranger, a journey of five light years took less than ten hours. In dull space, interstellar distances were doubled. Ships could enter safely, but doing so was effectively pointless. And like hyperspace, dull space didn’t offer Gav an escape because its strange laws of physics wouldn’t allow him to make a jump from within a star system either. Survival in both of those dimensions was only possible because of the protective bubble the stardrive created.
And then there was wraith space, a strange reality with mind-bending, psychogenic distortions and relentless ion storms. Entering wraith space unprepared and without proper training and shielded equipment was beyond dangerous. The only people who traveled there were the genetically enhanced delvers who mined the hyperphasic crystals needed for harnessing and storing the flux space energy used to power humanity’s devices. Such crystals, from ship-sized units to the tiny packs that powered chippies, only formed on the planets that drifted through wraith space.
Despite the near suicidal danger, wraith space held one distinct benefit for Gav. He could enter it within a system, without any concern for gravitational effects.
The ion missiles closed in. Gav deactivated the flak cannons. No point wasting ammo he might need later.
“Impact imminent, sir. 10…9…”
The touch screens on the ship’s control panels were all redundant, there only in case the circlet interfaces failed, with one exception. Since an accidental jump from within a system would be deadly, stardrive activation had to be done manually. Gav punched in his four-digit access code.
“8…7…”
He pressed a button on the left side of the control panel and pushed a handle forward on the right side.
“4…3…”
One of two things was about to happen. Either his enemy would think he was crazy enough to make a hyperspace jump from here and assume he was dead, or they’d realize he had gone into wraith space. If they did figure out where he had gone, would they have the balls to follow him in?
“Sir, the ion torpedoes just accelerated to 90% light.”
“What?!”
“Some sort of secondary booster, sir. I’ve never seen anything—”
Enveloped by a brief halo of swirling white lights, the Outworld Ranger gently shifted from normal reality and into wraith space.
The stardrive created a bubble that extended a few meters beyond the ship. Two of the ion missiles that had pierced the bubble struck the moment the ship entered wraith space. The ship rocked as the torpedoes collided with the shields.
“Two impacts, sir. Shield integrity…nullified. Sensors offline. Secondary systems…”
With a hiss and a flicker, Silky and Gav’s HUD winked out—victims of either the ion strike or wraith space itself.
Gav ripped the circlet off his head and studied the instrument panels. Everything was offline except interior monitoring, artificially gravity control, life support, and of course, the stardrive, the one thing that always worked reliably within wraith space.
The ship was dark now, lit only by the dim yellow glow of the emergency lighting systems.
A wave of dizziness hit Gav. He shook it off and took a few deep breaths, trying to keep his mind focused.
No one was shooting at him. That was a positive sign.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure what to do now. He hadn’t had time to think up a plan for what to do next. Presumably, he would travel through wraith space, which had the same dimensions as real space, long enough for his enemies to give up.
But the ion drive was offline and the system’s gravity was slowing him down already. He wasn’t going to get far this way.
The only question was how long would…
Gav’s mind went fuzzy again. When it cleared, wraith space revealed the truth of its marketing. A spectral form resembling a tall spacer with flowing robes drifted toward him. He threw his hands up, despite knowing it wasn’t real, and it passed harmlessly through him. Two more specters drifted through the bridge. One in an indeterminable shape, the other appearing as something similar to a wolf with half-formed wings.
He shivered as the air grew cold around him. A burst of color dazzled his eyes…then everything went darker than normal…then brighter again, only absent of any color whatsoever.
The ship rocked violently. Through the bridge’s clear diamondine window he saw ion storms raging around the ship. Most likely the torpedoes had kicked them up.
Something banged hard against the ship. A groaning, scraping noise echoed throughout the interior.
The artificial gravity failed and Gav floated, weightless through the bridge. The scraping object passed by the window. One of the enemy starfighters, spinning out of control, tumbled past, carried by the ion storm. Crackling bolts of blue-white energy sparked around it.
Starfighters only had emergency stardrives and basic shielding. Bringing one of them in here was insane, but then maybe they had only expected to briefly pop in to see if he was here before retreating. If so, they hadn’t counted on the storm their own torpedoes had triggered.
Artificial gravity returned and over-compensated. Gav slammed down onto the deck, banging his head against the command chair. All the other systems within the ship came back on. Then static flickered along the control panels and everything but life-support and gravity blinked off.
No longer under thrust from the twin ion drive, the ship couldn’t adjust to the ion storm winds. Like the starfighter that had scraped the hull, the Outworld Ranger began to spin and drift.
More wraiths appeared around Gav, amidst swirling colors. Dizzy and disoriented, he stumbled around on the deck. It was all like a dream, punctuated by moments of clarity.
He found himself not on the bridge but in the crew quarters, standing over Tal’s body.
Next time he came to he found himself hovering over the toilet. He stood and wiped vomit from his mouth.
Then he was again on the bridge, shouting orders to no one.
And then he was stumbling up to the engineering station. Octavian’s spindly body had slumped in place. The cog looked like a metal bug splattered on a window.
A voice called out through the ship. Feminine…exotic…yet frightened…desperate…pleading…
Someone needed his help.
Gav focused on that voice and careened through the main corridor, trying to follow it. His mind went in and out. His vision blurred. Wraithlike beings swirled around and through him. Some resembled loved ones long gone, while others were terrors that left him cowering against the wall.
On his only brief trip here before, as a young man, Gav had discovered he was not cut out for wraith space. Some minds could handle it better than others. Given enough time, though, even a delver would go crazy in wraith space.
Life-support and artificial gravity cut in and out. The ion drive burned a few minutes before sputtering out again. The ship’s weapon system came online and fired a few plasma cannon blasts out into space.
Gav wandered around for what seemed like hours, trying to locate the voice. Until at last he found himself in Cargo Bay 1.
The amulet hanging from his neck began to glow red, its light piercing the dimly lit cargo bay. It had never glowed before! He stumbled over and touched the Ancient capsule. It too began to glow.
Then he saw the ethereal beauty from his visions again. She was as tall as a spacer with a lithe frame and delicate features. Her broad, almond eyes curled up on the outside corners. Her skin glistened a pale, opalescent green. Her hair, a lustrous sable, streamed down her back, except for a few strands that wrapped around the insect-like antennas above her temples before falling alongside her cheeks. A gossamery lavender robe clung enticingly to her figure, and faint blue lines formed eddies and currents along her face and arms. Space-deep eyes locked onto his, and she spoke, her words passing straight into his mind, her voice melodic, mesmerizing.
“Please, kind strangers in the d
eep, hear me. Numenaia…my civilization…it has fallen. I am likely now the last of my kind. I request sanctuary and the chance to tell you of the Shadraa, the horrors from the dark. They came for my people, and we stopped them. But the price of victory was terrible. Someday, they will come for you as well. But I can help prepare you. Within me I carry access to all the knowledge of the great wonders of the Numenaian civilization—our stardrives and communications, our medicines and weapons.
“Please, strangers in the deep who hear this, give me refuge and let me help you. I swear to you that I, High Priestess Lyoolee Syryss of the Order Benevolent, mean you no harm. If you link your minds to mine, you will see that I speak the truth, and gain the knowledge you need to rescue me and prepare for the coming war.”
He tried to reply to her…but managed nothing more than an incoherent babble. Then she began to speak again…only to repeat the same message, word for word.
The Numenaian priestess might still be alive within the capsule, but she wasn’t speaking to him directly. It was like a recorded message, broadcast through wraith space, and maybe through other dimensions as well. And the being within this capsule had probably been broadcasting that telepathic message for thousands of years…warning of a great enemy…promising technological wonders… All you had to do was connect to her…and learn these things.
As he listened to her speak the message, over and over again, dozens of questions came to mind. But, at the same time, a great many other things began to click into place. Like a possible reason why both the Benevolence and the Krixis Empire were so interested in her capsule. He wished Silky was online. The chippy might be able to confirm some of what he now suspected. On his own, all Gav had were educated guesses. But then he’d made a career of betting on intuition and educated guesses.
Gav’s mind went suddenly as clear as crystal. Whether because of some influence from the capsule or the amulet, or the fresh adrenaline pumping through him, he didn’t know. Aware it might fade at any moment, he rushed to the engineering station. He couldn’t risk losing his mind in wraith space, but he also had to stay here long enough to escape the enemy ships. He needed a plan.
From a toolbox, he withdrew a spool of wire and broke off a piece a couple of meters in length. Using his command code, he engaged the manual control for the stardrive. Then he activated the magnetic grip in his boots, anchoring himself to the floor. Finally, he tied one end of the wire around his belt and the other around the control handle that could drop the ship out of wraith space. All he had to do was pull the pump-style handle outward from its current locked position, and that should happen if he lost his mind and wandered away.
Gav squatted down beside Octavian and rested his back against the engineering station. He patted the cog on the head.
“I really hope you don’t wake up before we get out of wraith space. You’re scary looking enough as it is. I can’t handle having you roaming around right now.”
The ship shuddered. Gav winced. Hopefully, it was part of the ion storm and not a missile or some other object. There was nothing preventing the ship from eventually colliding with an asteroid, planet, or moon or drifting into the sun.
As minutes, then hours passed, with various ship systems flickering on and off, Gav’s thoughts continuously drifted back to the Ancient priestess. He touched the amulet that had led him here. He’d found it, along with Silky and his other advanced gear, on the body of Eyana Ora. And, according to Silky, she’d taken it off one of the Krixis she’d killed in the tunnels outside the outpost. It had allowed him to enter the outpost and recall the priestess’s ship.
But if the Krixis had the amulet all along, why hadn't they recalled the Ancient ship from hyperspace and rescued the priestess themselves?
Maybe they had only just found the amulet. He was a leading expert on all things Ancient yet he had never seen nor heard of another piece like it. Or maybe the Krixis—or even others—had tried and failed while he, for some reason, had succeeded.
Gav groaned. He was missing too many pieces to assemble this puzzle.
A wraith moved through him, and he flinched. The intensity of the apparitions was building again, the figures becoming more and more grotesque. It wasn’t a function of wraith space. It was the unexpected mental clarity he’d gotten from touching the capsule now wearing off.
Octavian blooped, then whirred. Scrambling awkwardly on its insectoid legs, it tried to stand. Gav cowered. The cog turned its head toward him, and Gav screamed. Hysterical nightmares created by wraith space twisted his mind as he looked into the cogs eyes. The beast was coming for him. It was going to kill him and strip the meat and skin off his bones. It was going to wear him and disguise itself as a human.
But then it slumped back down, lifeless.
Gav continued to cower, drenched in sweat yet shivering, while the sights and sounds of hell caroused around him. In his clear moments, he thought of pulling out the handle. But each time, he reminded himself that he had to wait out the enemy…that he had to make it back to his son…and he had to, somehow, pass on what he had learned. And the priestess in the capsule…he had to protect her.
Hour after maddening hour passed. But Gav stayed put. Then suddenly, he found himself standing in the corridor. The wraiths and hallucinations were gone. Ship systems were coming back online one by one. Silky was beeping through his reboot sequence. And Octavian stirred behind him.
Gav turned and saw his boots lying on the floor. The thin copper wire dangling from his belt had snapped. But it had done its job of freeing them from wraith space.
Chapter Six
Gav Gendin
As his HUD came up, Gav ran toward the bridge. “Octavian, maintain your station. Red alert.”
“Sir, what’s going on?” Silky asked with an affected yawn.
“We’ve just dropped out of wraith space.”
“I can see that, sir. Oh my stars, I napped seven hours and thirty-three minutes.”
“Only that long? It seemed like days to me.”
Gav slid into the command chair and donned the circlet again. According to his HUD, the ion storm had propelled them outward from the planet and the solar system. That was great news. And the ship wasn’t showing any immediate threats, which was even better.
He began the startup sequence for the ion drive.
“Sir, sensors have detected the corvette, but none of the starfighters. It’s on the opposite side of the planet. I have enabled sensor jamming, but that won’t fool them long.”
“Why is the corvette over there?”
“It never moved, sir. We did.”
“Oh.”
“I’m laying in a new jump vector.”
“Time to breakpoint?”
“Seven minutes, twelve seconds, sir.”
“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.”
“Course set, sir.”
The twin ion drive flared to life, and Gav kicked it into full burn. After a brief moment of high-g force, the inertial dampeners compensated. As he caught his breath, Gav studied the readouts on his HUD. The ship had suffered minor hull damage, and the plasma cannon was inoperative. Otherwise, everything had made it out of wraith space intact.
“If you detect even the smallest anomaly, let me know.”
“Roger that, sir. Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?”
“Silky, I plan on devoting every scrap of attention I have to escaping this godforsaken star system. After that, we can talk.”
Gav kept his eyes locked onto the sensors as the minutes passed.
“Sir, they detected us.”
“Time to breakpoint?”
“Seventy-eight seconds.”
The red dot representing the enemy corvette suddenly sped across his display like an ant racing across a hotplate. He had never seen anything move that fast before, except the ion torpedoes he’d faced earlier, and those had only sped up at the last moment.
“Silky, what the hell is happening? Are the sensors malfunct
ioning?”
“Sensors are operating normally, sir. This appears to be an advanced ion drive unlike anything I’ve ever heard of. It’s moving at eighty-five percent light.”
The Outworld Ranger’s drive maxed out below fifty percent, and it was a fast vessel.
“That kind of acceleration should have killed the crew.”
“I’m sure the antigravity is adequate, sir, since androids can handle a much bigger gravity punch than you.”
The Benevolency’s military consisted entirely of android soldiers with strong morality but weak individuality programming. Or at least their morality programming was supposed to be strong. Gav had doubts about that today.
“Ion torpedoes launched and locked on target, sir.”
Gav watched in terror as a dozen missiles moving near the speed of light accelerated toward them. He activated the flak cannon, for all the good it would do against that many projectiles moving that fast.
His breath caught as the torpedoes closed to within five kilometers.
The Outworld Ranger nosed upward as Silky made a slight, last-moment course adjustment. The ship’s maneuvering thrusters burned at full blast.
The torpedoes reached the one-kilometer point.
Then a white halo enveloped the Outworld Ranger.
For a minute, the ship rocked, shuddered, and creaked as it rough-jumped into hyperspace. Then everything went perfectly smooth and quiet.
“Course safe, acceleration stable. We did it, sir. And aren’t you glad you installed that hull upgrade I recommended after our last rough jump?”
Gav breathed and released his deathlike grip from the arms of the command chair. He slumped back, pulled the circlet off his head, and wiped the sweat from his brow. It would take the corvette a few minutes to figure out their course, given Silky’s last-moment adjustment.
Rogue Starship: The Benevolency Universe (Outworld Ranger Book 1) Page 4
