Accursed Space - A Dark Space Fantasy (Star Mage Saga - A Dark Space Fantasy Book 5)

by J. J. Green

  “Yes, I’m all better now,” the boy replied absently before quickly prodding the screen with a forefinger. “I got it!”

  “You did!” Nahla squealed and clapped her hands. “Now it’s my turn.”

  Darius handed over the interface.

  “Maybe they didn’t have time to ask us to help them,” said Oriana. “I don’t think they knew this battle was coming up.”

  “That’s right,” Ferne said. “What was it Cadwallader said? The same destroyer that attacked us before was going to attack again. I don’t think they expected it would follow us all the way here, not after Darius Cloaked our ship.”

  “No, maybe not,” Parthenia conceded. “But I feel so useless. I want to do something, not sit around in here like a pathetic baby while others risk their lives.”

  “Carina would want us to stay here, where we’re safe,” said Darius, not lifting his gaze from the screen Nahla now held.

  “So?” Parthenia replied, irritably. She folded her arms across her chest. “We don’t have to do what Carina says. She isn’t our mother, and, anyway, I’m sixteen. I can make my own decisions.”

  Ferne mimicked her, folding his arms and waggling his head as he mouthed, I can make my own decisions.

  Oriana chuckled and Darius and Nahla looked up to see what she was laughing at.

  “Ferne!” Parthenia admonished. Then she smiled, stomped over to her bunk, picked up a pillow, and swung it at Ferne’s head.

  He threw his arms up, but he was too late. The pillow hit him full in the face. He curled onto his side in fits of giggles.

  Parthenia’s smile disappeared and she slumped onto Ferne’s bunk. “This is serious. We should be doing something. I should be doing something, at least. I’m the eldest after Carina. All the soldiers are only here and fighting because they have to be, because she killed Sable Dirksen.”

  “It isn’t our fault she did that, though, is it?” asked Oriana.

  “I suppose not,” Parthenia replied, “but I can’t help feeling responsible somehow.”

  “You’re always taking responsibility for things that aren’t anything to do with you,” said Ferne soberly. “Like you did with Castiel.”

  The mention of her brother’s name only increased Parthenia’s feelings of guilt and remorse. She’d been sure for so long that her Dark Mage brother was the family’s problem to fix. Now, she wasn’t so certain she’d been right, and she regretted constantly pushing Carina to bring him under control.

  But she didn’t think she was wrong to want to join in the current battle. Surely she should support the soldiers? She could do so much to help.

  She stood up decisively and strode to the door.

  “Where are you going” Darius asked, her sudden movement distracting him from his game.

  She opened the door. “Out—for a while. You all stay here, okay? Don’t leave this room unless you really have to.”

  “You’re going to fight with the soldiers, aren’t you?” said Ferne. “You’re going to be in so much trouble.”

  But Parthenia didn’t answer. The door was already closing behind her.

  The corridor was empty and she couldn’t hear a thing. Even the noise of the running mercenaries had faded away. She hesitated. Now that she’d decided to do something, she wasn’t sure exactly what.

  The deceleration of the Duchess had ended with an abrupt jerk. Had the ship connected with another vessel—perhaps the destroyer—and were the Black Dogs fighting the enemy?

  Parthenia made up her mind and began to run toward the main armory. The fastest route would take her through the brig, so she headed in that direction.

  An eerie silence reigned in the corridors. Even the steady, subliminal throb of the vessel’s engines had stopped.

  When she was growing up on Ithiya, she’d read tales of ghost ships—starships found drifting in space, entirely empty of passengers yet their distress signals inactivated. Whether the stories were true or not she couldn’t guess, but she quickly found herself longing to see a human face to dispel the sense of creepiness setting in.

  It was funny, having so many brothers and sisters often left her longing for some time alone, but actually being alone made her uncomfortable.

  The brig came into view. As she’d predicted, only one soldier had been left behind to guard it. The sight of the woman was a relief in the nearly empty ship, and Parthenia wasn’t worried about what was bound to happen next.

  “Hey,” the guard called out as Parthenia rapidly approached her, “where are you going?”

  “Hi,” she replied, giving a small wave. “I won’t be long.”

  “Won’t be long doing what?” the guard asked. “You can’t—”

  Parthenia reached her and sped right past the woman and into the brig.

  “Just passing through,” she said cheerily, over her shoulder.

  She caught a glimpse of Lomang and his brother, and the Sherrerr admiral, Calvaley, in the neighboring cell, staring at her as she flitted by, then she was through. The guard hadn’t had time to react, and, after all, the woman couldn’t fire on a child, could she?

  A minute or so later, Parthenia arrived at the armory, breathless. She was confident her armor would still be in storage there. It had been specially made for her for the mission on Ostillon and wouldn’t fit anyone else.

  Though she was keen to join in the battle, even she knew it would be foolish to enter it wearing no armor.

  She stepped through the entrance, and then jumped in surprise as she spotted a large, tall, dark figure standing with his back to her, rummaging in a storage unit. She’d expected the place to be empty like most of the rest of the ship.

  “Jace!” she exclaimed, recognizing the man. “You gave me a shock.”

  He turned to face her. “Parthenia, what are you doing here?”

  “I…”

  Would he disapprove of her plan? Probably.

  “I could ask you the same question,” she said.

  “I’m looking for armor,” the mage replied. “Cadwallader told me to stay put, but I feel useless and pathetic sitting around while others are fighting…which is also why you’re here, isn’t it.”

  His final utterance was a statement, not a question. His gaze was fixed on Parthenia, stern beneath his black, bushy eyebrows.

  She wilted a little under his stare, but then she rallied. She liked Jace a lot and she had plenty of respect for him—she’d spent many long hours with him learning about mage lore during the weeks of journeying to reach the inter-sector ship—but at the end of the day he wasn’t her father and so had no right to tell her what to do.

  “What if I am?” She marched into the room and over to a cupboard where the children’s armor was stored. Carefully avoiding eye contact with Jace, she pressed her hand on the plate to open the unit and took out her armor.

  The mage remained silent as she emptied her flask of elixir into the suit’s reservoir. Perhaps he was weighing his words.

  Finally, he said, “Parthenia, it would be remiss of me to allow you to take part in—”

  “Then it’s just as well you don’t get a say in the matter,” she retorted.

  She slipped off her shoes and stepped into her suit’s legs and boots.

  Inwardly, she was wincing at her defiant words. She didn’t want to offend Jace, but on the other hand, she had to make it clear she wouldn’t let him order her around.

  Unexpectedly, Jace snorted with laughter. “I can tell you and Carina are related.”

  “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean,” Parthenia snapped. She and her older sister were not alike. Carina was bossy and opinionated, and not similar to her at all.

  She pushed her arms into her armor and hefted it over her shoulders. As the edges of the front came together they automatically joined and sealed.

  Rather than answering her, Jace only scanned the storage unit and sighed. “I’m not going to find anything for me to wear. There’s hardly anything left and what’s here is to
o small.”

  “Then it wouldn’t be wise for you to accompany me,” she said sweetly.

  The mage rolled his eyes. “Are your brothers and sisters alone?”

  “Yes, I had to leave them, but they should be okay. Darius is a force to be reckoned with all by himself.” She put on her helmet, its visor up, and it locked into place.

  “Nonetheless,” said Jace, “I think I’ll go and stay with them. It’ll be something useful for me to do, and if the battle goes badly they might need me.”

  “The battle won’t go badly,” Parthenia said, grabbing a pulse rifle. “Not now Carina and I are fighting on our side.”

  Chapter Six

  Carina carefully copied the first of two lines of digits displayed on her HUD onto the keypad inside the Bathsheba’s airlock. The numbers comprised one of the codes Lomang had given while Enthralled, and it was supposed to correspond with this particular entry point.

  If she got the numbers wrong—or if Lomang had managed to fight the effects of the Cast sufficiently to give a wrong number—the airlock would explode.

  Given time, they might have found the explosive devices and disarmed them, but they didn’t have time. Lomang’s wife was bearing down on them in her destroyer. At any moment she might attempt to blast the Duchess away from the prized inter-sector ship, or she might board the Bathsheba herself. She might know about the various booby traps Lomang had set and how to circumvent them.

  Mercs crowded behind Carina, waiting to enter the foreign ship and defend it. She glanced at the twenty or so men and women Cadwallader had assigned to the task. Beyond them, she could see more arriving. It looked like the lieutenant colonel had committed most of the Black Dogs to the effort.

  His decision made sense. The Bathsheba was massive. It would take more soldiers than they had to repel a boarding attempt.

  And yet…

  “Return to the Duchess,” Carina ordered. “All of you. Step back to the other side of the port and seal it. Wait for me to reopen it from this side.”

  The soldiers hesitated.

  One of them murmured, “But, if we—”

  “Follow my order, dammit!” Carina barked.

  With some apparent reluctance, the mercs shuffled out of the airlock.

  The Bathsheba’s entry hatch closed. She was alone.

  If the airlock exploded there was a good chance only she would be killed, and the Black Dogs would survive to protect her brothers and sisters.

  She inhaled and, holding her breath, she read the second line of digits on her visor display and then keyed them in, one by one. There were eight numbers in total. She pressed the keys seven times. She guessed she had to be inputting the digits correctly or she would have set off the explosives.

  A bead of sweat crawled down the side of her face.

  Every muscle in her body tight, she pressed the final key.

  Nothing happened.

  She exhaled.

  Then she realized that though there had been no explosion, the airlock hadn’t activated.

  The numbers on the display above the keypad faded away and words in a script she didn’t recognize appeared.

  Perhaps her suit’s computer could tell her what they meant. She focused her gaze on the words and asked for a translation.

  A message popped up on her HUD: Does not translate.

  Carina sighed.

  All the information she had to go on was that the background to the display stayed green. Did the unchanging color mean she’d input the correct code? Assuming she had, why hadn’t the airlock activated?

  Or was it designed to be activated manually?

  She stepped back from the keypad and scanned around the inner hatch for a lever, wheel, or something similar.

  It was possible that the Bathsheba’s operating devices might be as alien as its written language, but if the ship was designed to be operated by humans, surely she should be able to recognize what to press, pull, turn, or push to work the airlock?

  But the surface around the inner door was entirely smooth except for a square recessed area at the bottom, flush with the floor.

  She squatted down and squinted into the hollow space, which measured roughly fifteen centimeters square. It was empty inside, but the base sloped upward, making the rear of the hole smaller than the opening.

  Puzzled, Carina stood up.

  The message in an unknown language was unchanged and the airlock remained dormant.

  Minutes were passing.

  If Lomang’s wife intended to board the Bathsheba she could be inside by now. It was vital the Black Dogs gained entry immediately.

  But how?

  The pressure of so many people depending on her was building up and she began to grow angry. She’d done what was required. Why wasn’t the airlock working?

  “C’mon,” she muttered, and thumped the closed hatch with a fist.

  She brought up the code on her HUD again and pressed the key of the first digit, but the number didn’t appear on the display. The message remained stubbornly in place.

  Shit!

  Was the code she’d input right or wrong? What was the message saying? Was it a warning, telling her to leave?

  She had to get inside the Bathsheba or Lomang’s wife would get control.

  Anger and frustration boiled up, and Carina kicked the hatch. Her leg muscles jarred as her boot impacted the hard surface. Cursing, she looked up and down the entrance to the inter-sector ship again. Her gaze alighted on the recess in the bulkhead and suddenly something clicked in her mind.

  The hole was roughly the width and height of a booted human foot. The inclined base could be a kind of lever.

  She put her right foot inside the hole, but before she pressed down, she paused.

  What if attempting to activate the airlock after inputting the wrong code would trigger the explosives?

  She cursed once more. If she didn’t try, their cause was lost anyway.

  She trod on the base of the hole.

  It depressed, and she was surrounded by the sound of valves opening and air hissing through them.

  The tension in her muscles released all at once and it was as much as she could do to remain upright. She leaned her forearms against the hatch and rested her head between them.

  Then she remembered her task wasn’t over yet—far from it. She ran to the other end of the airlock and opened the portal to the Duchess.

  “We’re in,” she said to her troops. “Search and secure the ship in your allotted fire teams.”

  The atmosphere in the mercs’ vessel had flooded the Bathsheba’s airlock when the ships had first connected. The airlock sensors would detect the existing air pressure, and—

  A thunk behind her signaled a hatch opening.

  She swung around. The hatch slid to one side and she got her first view of the interior of the inter-sector ship.

  All was dark inside the Bathsheba, though the light cast from the Duchess and the mercs’ helmets reflected from shiny metallic surfaces within. Through the figures of soldiers pouring into the ship, Carina also thought she could make out contoured glass structures.

  A brilliant flash in the darkness suddenly revealed the Bathsheba’s innards in stark relief, like lightning illuminating a landscape.

  But she had no time to process what she saw inside the ship.

  The flash had been a pulse round.

  The Black Dogs were under attack.

  Chapter Seven

  Mercs were running into the other ship. Parthenia’s guess had been correct: the Duchess’s docking port was open and glimpses of another vessel were visible through it, between the figures of the soldiers.

  A battle was going on.

  She’d seen enough fighting over the previous few months to recognize the intermittent flashes of pulse fire, and her helmet’s audio was picking up its signature hiss and fizz.

  The battle seemed to have only just started. Black Dogs were still pouring through the portal.

  She ran to
the end of a line of soldiers waiting to join the battle, hoping she wouldn’t be noticed and ordered to return to her cabin. The man she stood behind turned around and glanced at her, but if he realized she wasn’t one of the regular mercs he didn’t say or do anything about it.

  The front of the line jerked into action, and seconds later the movement reached the end of the line. Parthenia found herself jogging into the darkness of the other ship. Her visor’s night vision activated, and she was surrounded by a confusing scene of moving ghostly figures and bursts of light.

  Her group took up a position at the rear of the fight, only a little way beyond the entrance to the new ship. Perhaps they were waiting for further orders.

  She stuck close to the soldier who had been at the end of the line, while she tried to figure out what was going on and how she could help.

  Parthenia reminded herself she would have to be careful not to mistakenly Cast at someone on her own side. The Black Dogs’ HUDs would show the status of any soldier that came into view—whether they were friendly or an enemy—but her suit was not connected to the battle comm system and her visor didn’t have that capability.

  The pulse fire intensified, and in the increased light she began to make some sense of her surroundings.

  The enemy ship was huge. She hadn’t noticed until the new illumination revealed it, but the ceiling hung tens of meters overhead. The fighting seemed to be taking place in a chamber equally as wide, though it was hard to be sure. Pulse fire was reflecting from the walls, along with the figures of soldiers, making it difficult to judge distances.

  She shifted her position slightly to give herself a better view. The oval, glass coverings of a thousand or more receptacles protruded from the walls and rose in ranks almost to the ceiling. A walkway ran in front of each row above floor level. Square patches of darkness below the first walkway suggested exits to the large chamber.

  She was no expert on starships, but this didn’t look anything like her expectation of a destroyer, which could only mean they were aboard the inter-sector ship!

  From what she could tell, the Black Dogs were trying to reach the exits and, presumably, get deeper into the ship, and the enemy was trying to stop them.