by Reiter
“Did I just hear you scream ‘Captain’s on deck’?” she asked.
“Aye, Captain,” Olkin replied, feeling a bit nervous all of a sudden.
“Well done, Olkin,” she said softly, still thinking about a means to solve her current dilemma. “You are relieved. If there’s one thing this Captain likes to do, she likes to drive herself.”
“I wasn’t piloting,” Olkin explained. “I had the au–”
“Do not say… that term… in my presence!” she commanded. “For the record, and make damn sure you tell the others, the proper phrasing is ‘Satithe had the ship’! Got it?! That I can stand,” she said getting louder and beginning to walk Olkin down. “That I can allow others to say and remain breathing, understood? There is no automatic function of piloting aboard any ship of mine! None!!! YOU ARE RELIEVED!” Olkin quickly turned and left the Bridge. Jocasta watched him run and as soon as the doors closed, she slowly turned and walked to her chair.
“Pilot’s console now has power, Captain,” Satithe reported.
“No need, Sati,” Jocasta said calmly as she sat down. “You’re doing fine. Anything in the snack bin?” A small panel opened under the main console and Jocasta smiled at the fruit that had been stored there. She took an apple out and closed the door. Jocasta sighed contentedly and sat back, taking a healthy bite out of the apple. There were advantages to having an engineer with a green thumb. “Score one for seeing to the mystery, eh?” Satithe giggled and Jocasta smiled as she chewed. She turned her chair away from the console and had just taken her second bite when the doors opened and Nulaki entered the chamber.
Always a student of the masters who had come before him, Nulaki found himself increasingly frustrated, and slightly grateful, to be on the Xara-Mansura. Never had his poker-face been so challenged.
“What the hell happened to her?!” he thought, looking at the same woman he had seen just over an hour ago, but feeling something completely different. The worst fact was that she was not showing everything, she had learned restraint and a certain amount of guile and duplicity. Still, what Nulaki could detect was stirring. She had come into an understanding of her body and the energy within. In some places such power was still called Chi, but Nulaki had never before seen such a dramatic change in so short a time. He was not sure he could say if he had ever even heard of such a thing.
“You… wanted to see me, Captain?”
“Oh, I don’t think this is ever going to get old,” Jocasta thought as she took in everything she had seen from the moment Nulaki entered the room. “I can’t wait to play cards again!
“I did at that, Mr. Conadier,” she replied, gesturing to the navigation station. “Would you care to take a seat?”
“I don’t mind if I do,” Nulaki replied as he sat down.
“I wanted to pick your brain on a couple of things,” Jocasta shared.
“My brain is yours,” Nulaki smiled before realizing. “Well, most of my brain is yours.” He sat back in his chair and thought once more before squinting his eyes.
“Are we down to some now?” Jocasta asked. Still squinting, Nulaki nodded to the affirmative. “Relax, Thief, it’s your general knowledge I’m interested in.”
“That will make this conversation simpler, Captain.”
“Good,” Jocasta said as she turned back toward her console. “One, what do you know of the Star-Wing Corps and two, whereabouts would you like to go next?”
“The first answer is easy: not much. I’ve heard it used as an expression,” Nulaki explained. “You know, when a pilot is arrogant or thinks of themselves as better than what they are. That kind of thing. Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” she said. “My understanding of it is not that much greater. And where you find yourself bound?”
“I was going to bring this up after my next culinary offering,” Nulaki started.
“That big of a favor, eh?”
“Pretty big.” Nulaki winced in anticipation of her ire. He heard Jocasta hitting buttons and systems beginning to power up. He opened his eyes to see a star chart of the Rims in a very nifty three-dimensional holographic projection. “You people and your toys! Damn!”
“You did mention the Gulmar System earlier,” Jocasta stated. “… followed quickly by some half-assed platitude that you would take a scab-craft that range.
“Gulmar,” Jocasta said, looking at the map. “… the one place where there are laws against having or using tech. Laws that are, I might add, sternly enforced by MajiK, among other things. That’s where you want to go?”
“It is a fine roast, Captain,” Nulaki said. “The gravy is to die for!”
“Then your gravy holds something in common with the Gulmar System!” she replied, standing up from her chair. “Satithe, how long before we can engage full drives?”
“That would be difficult to say at this point,” Satithe responded. “We have three different Imperial Groups that came into our scanning range thirty-three seconds ago. We are in scanning range of two of those groups.”
“Any of them on intercept?” Jocasta asked as she looked up at the star chart. “Give me a tactical view and alert Z.”
“Negative on course intercepts, Captain,” Satithe replied as the star chart gave way to the four items: three blue squares that were the ship groups and the green circle that was the Xara-Mansura. “… it does not appear as if they detect us with our stealth field engaged.”
“At flank speed, how long before they are on top of us?” Jocasta asked.
“It is doubtful that any of these groups are without Gating capability, Captain,” Satithe reminded Jocasta who closed her eyes in disgust.
One of the reasons why the Empire was such a force to be reckoned with was their ability to Gate without the use of a Corridor Station. IA ships, as a rule put into place nearly one hundred years ago, did not possess Gating technology nor were they known to engage in defense of any ship with the tech coming under Imperial fire. In all her time in space, Jocasta had come across only one that was still swimming, and she was the Captain of it. She could easily recall the destruction of the Psychedelic Highlighter when it had finally been cornered by Imperial Gunships.
“And as such they could be within weapons range inside three minutes,” Satithe concluded.
“That would be the longest three minutes of our lives,” Jocasta said as she continued to look at the tactical display. “Followed by the shortest three seconds! Take down tactical, and give me vid of each of the crew.” The map quickly faded and seven views were projected for Jocasta to see. Dungias was walking off the Kulri-Kraythe, looking at the tactical display being projected from his brace-com. All of the others were either engaged in some mode of training or cleaning a section of the ship.
“Okay, we’ll have to investigate what our little dark-haired wonder is doing later,” Jocasta thought, looking at the female named Annsura. She looked at the rest of the images and then stepped back, looking down at the floor. She had always been told to trust her instincts; her eight-month hour had only made the voice of those instincts louder. Something was not right, and while an hour ago she might have dismissed the feeling, now she knew she could not. She did not know exactly what, but she was certain those groups were there for a reason, and somehow the Xara-Mansura was that reason. It was a stretch, to be sure, but it was all she could conclude at the moment. The ships were not on any sort of patrol, they were simply waiting for something.
“But what?” she thought. “What could they be waiting for?”
“Man, it is something to watch this woman work,” Nulaki observed. “She switched gears so damn fast that I almost missed it!”
“What would a big gun be waiting for?” she said aloud before she clenched her right fist. “Nut-crunchers! They’re waiting for firing coordinates! My problem isn’t those ships. My problem is the freakin’ forward observer!”
“The what?” Nulaki asked.
“Intercom me, Sati.”
“Go ahead, Captain.”
“Satithe, give ‘em a light show worthy of some fear,” Jocasta commanded as she lifted her brace-com. “Z, tell me you got something we can do here!”
“We need to scan internally for MajiK, Captain,” Dungias replied.
“Scan for MajiK?!” Nulaki exclaimed. “How the hell does a machine do that? Is he serious?!”
“Have you ever seen the man tell a joke?” Jocasta returned. “Satithe, can you make it happen?”
“Engaging scans,” the system replied. “Warning! Contact, two locations.”
“Son of a bitch!” Jocasta pounded the console. “I knew it! Where are they?!”
“Point one is one deck inside the NHB Sector,” Satithe reported. “The requested ‘light show’ is engaged there as well.”
“NHB?” Nulaki inquired.
“Long story,” Jocasta answered. “… and bogey number two?”
“Approximately one hundred meters from Engineering and holding.”
“Z, you take NHB. I’ve got Engineering!” Jocasta said as she ran for the doors.
“Captain, your weapons!” Dungias called back.
“I’ll have to improvise!” Jocasta barked as she ran out into the corridor headed for the nearest pole.
Nulaki smiled as he took off running after her. “This I gotta see!”
It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.
Mark Twain
(Rims Time: XII-4112.19)
Dungias moved quickly. He did not like the idea of being boarded, but he liked even less the thought of Jocasta facing a potential enemy unarmed. He was pleased at the approach Jocasta had taken. Someone unfamiliar with the ship would not know that there were drones aboard which handled pest control and were very much motivated to maintain their efficiency. The emitters that each possessed could deliver sufficient charge to stun or take hold of creatures that were considered pests. Depending on what was caught, Dungias either set the creature free in the arboretum or stored them until he had an opportunity to release them.
“Of course!” he thought as he made his way to a pole. “The drones!
“CK, disengage safety locks on the emitters for drones one through three, and send them to assist the Captain if she should need them.”
“You got it!” CK acknowledged. “Plus, I have some additional facts about the readings Satithe reported.”
“I am listening,” Dungias replied.
“Both of them looked like an aperture when Satithe discovered them,” CK reported. “… but that was just for a moment. Now they’re on the move. It just looks like they picked the two most apparent power cores on the ship and opened doors close to those locations.”
“I suppose that is my reward for bringing the second power system online,” Dungias thought as he came away from the pole before reaching the floor. He felt a presence suddenly reveal itself; aggression had been directed to the Star Chaser. Engaging in the hostile act had cost the figure its cloak.
The song of sharp steel passed over Dungias’ head and into the ceiling where the weapon slashed through the paneling and into the wires of the lights. A bright flash of electricity preceded a spot of darkness that consumed Dungias as he landed on the floor. Whatever had been used against him returned down the corridor into a very powerful hand. Dungias opted to remain very still and inside the darkness that had just been created. He could sense confusion mixing with the aggression… and a slight tinge of fear. The figure was in a position of obligation… a protector of sorts. It was beginning to doubt if it could protect its ward in the current situation. Dungias thought he would make the most of that emotion.
“It is difficult,” Dungias said, reverberating his voice as he used his brace-com to send commands to Satithe. “… to hold true to responsibility in such a strange place. I can appreciate your dilemma.”
“Appreciate my blade!” the figure cried, hurling an axe. Dungias now knew what had been used before. With the energy he could feel coming off the weapon as he deflected it with Alpha, he knew it was enchanted.
“And now for the Stride!” he thought as he lunged forward.
“That must be some weapon,” Erzon Hambrill thought as he reached out his right hand to catch his axe. It faded from sight centimeters from his grasp, replaced by a blue-skinned creature as it flew toward him thrusting its feet into Hambrill’s chest.
“Gods of my fathers!” Hambrill thought as his back collided with the wall. Even with the armour he was wearing it was a telling blow, nearly stunning him. But the Guardian had been struck hard before, and his left gauntlet flew forward. His fist was struck by the creature’s power rod and Hambrill heard the bones in his hand snapping.
“You were expecting this, yes?” the creature said as it side-stepped and spun. Suddenly, the Guardian could see his enchanted axe flying once more toward him. The power rod struck the axe-handle and it was thrown off its trajectory, spinning more rapidly. Hambrill gasped, seeing the gleam of his axe blade pass from his view as the metal sank into his chest. He wanted to scream, the pain was great enough for it, but only blood came out of his mouth. His weapon had done its work, as it had done a countless times before, and finally the powerfully built Guardian was made to feel some measure of the pain he had wrought over the years. “It would seem that the two of you are inseparable!” the figure said as it looked down on the dying Guardian. “Now I will contend with your ward.”
Hambrill reached for his weapon, but his hand was prevented by the power rod.
“And I will be sure to tell Vaktaggian that you gave your very best.” A quick thrust of the power rod and Hambrill could feel his throat close. “Master,” the blue-skinned figure cried out, sounding just like Hambrill himself. “Master, I am injured... fallen clover, my lord!” he cried out and Erzon was shocked to hear their code – the one chosen for this mission – fall from the lips of this new enemy before he disappeared from sight.
“Erzon!” the young SpellCasteR cried out as he emerged from behind one of the support columns, dropping the veil which had been used to alter his appearance. His long blonde hair flew back from his shoulders as he ran. “Erzon, I am here–” blood erupted from the mage’s chest as the flechette blade and the Malgovi wielding it became visible.
“No, neither one of you is here!” Dungias argued. “Not any longer!” Pulling his blade from the dying mage, Dungias spun and opened the throat of the young man before turning and running back for the pole. He had to get to his ward and serve as her Guardian!
** b *** t *** o *** r **
Nulaki was pressed to find the foot speed to keep up with the eager woman that was Captain of the ship. He thought she might be well served to hear how rushing into the matter was not the smartest thing he had ever heard of doing, but one look in her eyes and he knew all he would be was a distraction.
“And has she gotten faster?” he thought.
The two of them ran as the corridor became a catwalk. Nulaki looked down over the side as they passed and he could see a slender body facing the outer doors of Engineering which were flashing with silent alarms. The figure, clearly male, wore the high-collared cape of someone who either lived in the Inner Rim or was affiliated with the powers-that-be in that region: the Empire.
“What I wouldn’t give for a gun right now,” Jocasta muttered before she jumped over the side of the catwalk. Her boots landed on one of the support cables and as she expected, it did not give in the slightest under her weight. She slid down to the lower
catwalk and landed on the grating that suddenly came alight. Jocasta had triggered a trap, and energy coursed through her body. She was unable to move; or else she would have screamed from the pain. Light shone up from the grating at her feet and her hair was above her head, as if she were hanging upside down.
“JoJo!” Nulaki cried as he jumped from the catwalk to the wall of Engineering. “Let her go!” he demanded. The slender man did little more than look up briefly at Nulaki before looking back at the captured woman.
“You should be concerned about yourself!” another voice broke in, followed by a mace which just missed the diving form of the Fazbred man. When the mace slammed against the wall, he confirmed that the make of the ship was indeed sturdy; his master had spoken truthfully and accurately. The plating did not buckle under his attack. In fact, it had been barely charred. Yorduff, a warrior of a great number of deployments, was very much surprised and impressed. “My, we are agile, aren’t we?”
“Yorduff,” the slender, caped man called out as he returned his attention to the doors, making small movements with his fingers as if he were manipulating the tumblers of the locking mechanism. It was a discipline that had availed the talented, fair-haired mage of many a barred door; and the company of a proper beau upon several occasions. But Vobis Slonn was not seeking the company of an attractive woman on this occasion, though the prize of this deployment was looking sweeter and sweeter with every passing moment. “Please do what you can about these pathetic distractions. This door is proving to be most challenging.”
“Forgive my ineptitude, Master,” the large man apologized as he dropped to the floor with a downward, hammering attack, missing his target again. The Fazbred man landed from his leaping back flip and took a combative stance. “I wonder what sort of bug you are,” Yorduff said as he approached. “I will know more… after you are squashed!”
