The North Star Page 3

  That quack needs to mind her own goddamn business.

  “What the hell am I doing here?” The words barely made it passed his cracked lips. He was tempted to lick them but suspected it would result in a wave of vomit.

  “You’re waiting.”

  The voice that answered was a lot deeper than he expected. It felt strange that it should come from a source that wasn’t spinning around with the room. It was unnaturally deep: a male voice. He even vaguely recognized it, like a long-forgotten item half-buried in the sediment. Randis couldn’t put his finger on it because it wouldn’t stay still.

  Turning his head without emptying his guts took everything Randis had. His nostrils flared, grasping at the air in shallow bursts. Breathing through his mouth intensified the sickly sweet aftertaste of whatever liquid had caused him to pass out.

  He tentatively opened his eyes a fraction: just enough to focus on whoever was there.

  A few feet from where he lay, a warrior-class Warg squatted in a tattered leather chair that seemed too small for his girth and much too flimsy to bear his significant weight. Yet, despite his bulk, it held.

  Powerful fibers pulsed and rolled under every inch of the Warg’s thick gray skin. Its merely being there set off alarms in Randis’s mind: warnings that couldn’t entirely pierce the thick fog. He had the feeling he was in trouble but the details evaded him. Not that there was anything he could do about it in his condition.

  A blaster and ritual blade hung from the creature’s broad hips. Randis had encountered many such Wargs on his travels and usually not under the best of circumstances.

  Getting himself into trouble had become something of a theme since retreating to Sentinel Station’s lower-level slums. Randis thought the Underways would provide safety, but life had other ideas.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Brutus,” he said, unable to remember the warrior’s real name. “I don’t get many visitors these days.”

  A deep guttural sound was the only response.

  “You’re lucky Varkal brought you in, Randis.” Doctor Kira appeared next to the Warg, and he wondered if she’d been nearby the entire time. “You had a serious case of alcohol poisoning and overdosed on nagesh. It was a close call.”

  “We meet again, Doctor.” Sick gurgled in his stomach as he made to swing his legs over the edge of the bed.

  The doctor raced to the bedside and caught him before he rolled onto the floor.

  “Take it easy, Randis. The medication hasn’t worn off yet, and you’ve still got substance residuals in your system.”

  She tried to press him back onto the bed, but he shrugged her off.

  “I’m fine. I just need a minute.”

  And some anti-sickness meds and painkillers. And while you’re at it, something to knock Brutus out wouldn’t go amiss.

  “I’ll get something for the pain,” she said as if reading his mind.

  She disappeared behind a partition, leaving him alone with the Warg. Save for his breathing, the warrior was silent.

  “A rough night, huh?”

  Another growl gurgled in the warrior’s throat.

  Doctor Kira returned holding a syringe filled with an unpleasant looking blue liquid.

  She pressed the needle into a vein on his left arm, and a hot sensation shot into his shoulder and spread through his chest.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “Compound Eleven. It’ll counteract the narcotics.”

  Brutus growled at the mention of it.

  Randis looked at him. “What’s your problem?”

  “Compound Eleven is poisonous to Wargs,” Doctor Kira answered.

  The doctor’s new exo-tool vibrated. Her eyes flicked from side to side as she read something.

  The medical unit was much bigger than most standard exo-tools Randis had seen, and Doctor Kira’s stretched the length of her forearm. It looked heavy and uncomfortable. He compared his own which was half the size. Then again, his didn’t have built-in diagnosis and treatment tools. Units designed for specific tasks had always been bigger, and Randis had equipped his share of those in the past, but he hadn’t worn anything so big without a full battle suit to help take the weight.

  Kira typed something onto the device and smiled as she caught him watching her. The doctor then rummaged in a cupboard and produced a vial of clear fluid. She walked to Randis and raised the opened glass bottle to his lips.

  He tried to push her hand away, and she stumbled into him.

  “Sorry,” she said righting herself. “I’ve been working twenty hours non-stop and have barely eaten.”

  “What are you trying to force down my throat?”

  “Just drink it, Randis. It’ll make you feel better.”

  He gave her a sideways glance then snatched the glass container from her and knocked it back.

  The medicine was so bitter his mouth tried to swallow his face.

  “Holy shit. It’s bad. You should give Brutus some.” He pointed at the warrior and gagged.

  “Dra’kahn urine distillate is very rare.”

  “You made me drink alien dog piss?” Either he was hallucinating, or the doctor had gone insane.

  “The best hangover cure in the galaxy. Straight from the seventh moon of Claracia. Consider yourself lucky. I’ve been saving what little I have left.”

  Randis was about to object when he realized she was right. He was no longer fighting to keep the sick down, and the drumming in his head was subsiding.

  Bewilderment must have been written all over his face because she took the opportunity to lean in and peck him on the cheek before he could react.

  “Because that’s professional.” Randis was fairly certain she did it to annoy him. He wiped the moist feeling from his face and lowered his voice. “Why’s he still here?”

  “He wouldn’t say.” She looked a little worried, then turned away. “Something tells me you’ll find out sooner rather than later.”

  “Pay.” The word was deep and punctuated with a loud click.

  “I’ve got others to attend to.” Doctor Kira shot him a look that said, ‘I told you so,’ before disappearing beyond the partition.

  “What do you mean pay?”

  “The boss says pay.” The Warg’s tongue flicked about, and his words came out in hisses.

  Shards of memory cut into Randis’s mind like serrated glass through mud: A gambling table and dice, empty bottles, wagers, and the White Dragon boss. It took him a minute to fit the pieces together. Even then, parts were missing, but he got the gist of it.

  Shit.

  Brutus was there to collect payment. Randis had wagered the only thing of value he had left, and he lost. The debt he owed the Warg’s boss was a gift from an old friend; from a time when he worked in the Overways; from a different lifetime.

  He didn’t want to part with the item, but he also had no desire to fight with a Warg. Randis would have made a good match for the giant in his youth, but the years hadn’t been kind to his body and he didn’t stand a chance. Not to mention that he was still feeling worse for wear and knew better than to make an enemy of Bometown’s boss.

  Randis gingerly stood erect and took a step on wobbly legs.

  “Okay, Brutus.” He reached out and leaned on the warrior’s shoulder. “Let’s go get Mr. Darcy’s payment. But first, I need you to take me for a piss.”

  THE SHADOW

  Grimshaw followed Captain Desmond and the three Aegi onto the bridge.

  “Any progress with reaching the Goliath, Gargan?” Captain Desmond took her chair, and Grimshaw buckled himself into the terminal to her right.

  “The communications team are still working on contacting them, Captain. Some kind of advanced scrambling algorithm appears to be interfering with the EM spectrum.”

  “What about scanners?”

  “The unidentified vessel isn’t registering with anything in the Confederation databases. We’ve also cross-checked the Galactic Alliance archives. There’s nothing.”

  Lights blinked and instruments whirred as the crew hurried about their duties. The air was dense and made Grimshaw’s nose itch. He realized it was because he smelt fear. The crew was on edge.

  As professionally trained as the crew was, most were too young to remember the Kragak war let alone to have fought in it. Outside of the Aegi, he counted on one hand those who had experienced battle. For everyone else, Captain Desmond included, the current threat was a first.

  The Aegi clustered together at unoccupied communications terminals in the command hub next to Lieutenant-commander Gargan. Had the Bakura been running fully staffed with forty strong, those seats would have been in use. But since being recommissioned as a training vessel, the Bakura never had more than a dozen on the bridge. Even the command hub, on a raised platform to the rear of the deck, rarely had more than three of its five seats filled.

  A curved wall at the head of the bridge doubled as the primary visual display. It zoomed in on the vast bulk of the Goliath as it drifted in the distance. Just beyond the heavy Confederation cruiser hovered what could only be described as an immense shadow.

  The Goliath was one of the Confederation’s largest vessels, but it was less than a third of the size of the looming black shape, the curves of which suggested something more organic than machine. It was difficult to make out its edges against the blackness of space, but with multiple appendages radiating from a triangular body, it resembled an alien-like squid or arachnid.

  The strange ship had positioned itself between them and the white-green marbled planet.

  “Why didn’t we pick it up before entering the gate network?”

  “Our scanners are having trouble reading it this close, sir,” Gargan said. “There isn’t a hope we could’ve detected it at long-range.”

  “Stealth technology then. It must be Tal’Ri.” She didn’t sound too sure, and Grimshaw couldn’t blame her.

  Being the eldest Galactic Alliance race and dominating the Galactic Council, much about the Tal’Ri was shrouded in mystery. Few had seen a Tal’Ri in the flesh let alone one of their war vessels.

  Aegis Nakamura spoke up. “I saw a Tal’Ri cruiser once. Most impressive. But nothing like that.” He gestured at the screen.

  The Captain ran a hand through her matted hair. “Keep trying, Gargan. Priority is getting Admiral Thatcher on the line. Could be there was something he forgot to tell us.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Captain Desmond swung her seat around to address the Aegi. “None of you know what this is?”

  “Afraid not, Captain.” Aegis Nakamura sounded more intrigued than alarmed. He examined the readings on his console. “If I had to guess, I’d say we’ve just made contact with a new race. What we really need to know is whether they are friend or foe.”

  “Friends normally say hello.” Aegis Inx’s words didn’t instill confidence.

  Grimshaw wondered if the time was approaching to appropriate command. It was possible the Goliath and Bakura were in trouble. Voicing as much wouldn’t have done anything for what was left of crew morale. A blind man could have sensed it: the doubtful side-glances, the nervous tapping, the hushed chatter.

  An experienced crew would have maintained complete control and silence until things got hot. Even then, they would have kept their heads about them.

  Gargan cut in on his thoughts. “Getting a signal from the Goliath, sir.”

  “Finally,” the Captain said, relieved. “Patch it through.”

  A fuzzy image of Admiral Thatcher appeared on the display and looked down on the crew like a god would its subjects.

  “Captain Desmond, we’ve been trying to get a hold of you. It appears the enemy is jamming our comms.”

  “Enemy?”

  “They’re holding the Goliath using an artificial gravity well. It’s draining our power and disrupting our systems. They’re refusing to answer our hails.”

  “I’m not sure what support we can offer, sir.”

  “No!” The Admiral threw a hand up in objection. “You’ve got three of the galaxy’s most valuable assets on board. Stick to the mission. Get them to 115 at all costs. We’ll distract the enemy as long as we can.”

  “But Admiral—”

  “That’s a direct order, Captain!” His nostrils flared. “If they’ve come for what’s stored at Xerocorp Labs, you need to secure it before they do. I don’t know how much time we can buy you. Now go!”

  Static flickered, and the display switched back to the Goliath and the alien monstrosity. Silence passed while the crew awaited instructions and Grimshaw wondered if he wouldn’t have to speak up on the Captain’s behalf. The admiral had issued a direct order.

  “You heard the admiral,” she finally said, taking him by surprise. “Critical alert. All hands to battle stations.”

  The lights dimmed to red, and an alarm whined over the intercom. Desmond raised her exo-tool and addressed the ship.

  “This is not a drill. Cadets and assigned officers, enact protocol Red Drop. All other personnel to battle positions.”

  Captain Desmond repeated the announcement, veins popping in her temple.

  Grimshaw could almost see the synapses firing in her brain. She wasn’t the type to take orders lying down, even those that came directly from a fleet admiral.

  She turned to the flight crew at their terminals below. “Maintain our course to Colony 115, Parker. Full speed.”

  Stars shifted on the primary VD as Parker lined the Bakura up with their destination.

  “I want a scanner on the Goliath and whatever that thing is for as long as we’re in range.”

  A smaller screen featuring the two ships appeared in the upper right corner of the primary VD.

  Lights detonated about the two large vessels.

  “No,” someone choked. “They’re exchanging fire.”

  Grimshaw was so focused on the battle he didn’t notice who muttered the words.

  “There’s nothing we can do for them.” Desmond’s voice was surprisingly firm. “How long until 115, Parker?”

  “We’ll hit atmosphere in thirty minutes, sir,” the pilot answered.

  “Make it twenty.”

  “But the dampeners—”

  “I don’t give a shit! Get engineering on the line and make it happen. Gargan, what are the long-range scanners telling us about the colony?”

  “Nothing yet, sir. Interference is jamming signals out that way too, only it’s much worse.”

  A burst of blue lightning forked across the secondary VD.

  “What’s going on back there, Gargan?”

  “It’s hard to tell without full scanners, sir.” He worked furiously at his controls. “It looks like that lightning took out the Goliath’s shields. They’re dead in the water.”

  Eventually, the battle was swallowed by distance, and the secondary VD started breaking up. Grimshaw was about to ask for an update when a flash cut across the crackling screen. It was so bright that he had to cover his eyes.

  “Someone turn those damn filters up!” he said.

  “They’re at maximum, sir.”

  The light faded leaving a yellow smear on Grimshaw’s vision.

  “Gargan?” The Captain’s voice was still steady. Not a hint of panic despite her earlier appearance.

  Gargan looked to her, but he didn’t say anything. Grimshaw had seen that look in people’s eyes countless times during the war. The man was going into shock. Grimshaw connected remotely to Gargan’s console. He was no communications officer, but he could translate most readings.

  “The Goliath’s gone, sir,” he said.

  “What do you mean gone, Jason?”

  Grimshaw double checked the data. “From what I’m reading, Admiral Thatcher initiated self-destruct.”

  “The bastard.” She swallowed hard. “He wasn’t kidding about buying us time. What about the enemy vessel?”

  With some thought, he worked out the commands. “I’m reading some damage but it looks like the data being returned is corrupted. Wait…” He fought with his controls again. “They’ve deployed another ship. It’s moving fast.”

  Desmond climbed out of her chair and raised her voice. “Mourning will have to wait. Right now, I need every last one of you to stay sharp. Whatever that thing is, it means to stop us, and I’ll be damned if we don’t deliver these Aegi to 115. Do not let the Goliath’s sacrifice have been for nothing.”

  Her tone made it clear that there was no choice in the matter, but the crew answered in the affirmative.

  Grimshaw had never seen her command the crew’s respect in such a way. Her sturdy demeanor was that of another woman entirely. He had always considered the Captain an incompetent and lazy fool, but he realized – with a hint of guilt – that he had vastly underestimated her abilities. She simply hadn’t needed to take matters so seriously until then since the Bakura had never faced a serious threat.

  A medic had administered drugs to Gargan, and he was snapping out of his daze.

  “Grimshaw, you’re the only one with field experience,” Captain Desmond said. “I need you to take care of the cadets.”

  “Yes, sir.” He would have argued that his place was on the bridge, but she was right.

  He unbuckled and made for the bridge doors.

  Nakamura caught his attention as he passed. “Aegis Eline will join you, Commander. It increases the chances of an Aegi making it to the surface.”

  Grimshaw nodded as the Shanti filed in next to him, movements more graceful than the most elegant human dancer. The bridge doors snapped shut behind them.

  If the short battle with the Goliath was an indicator, the Bakura wouldn’t stand a chance when that other vessel caught up. Hopefully, they had gotten far enough ahead to stay out of weapons range.

  As if reading his thoughts, the walkway shifted beneath him, and the ship rocked violently. He caught onto a rail before being thrown from his feet. Eline’s balance was such that she was utterly unperturbed by the tremor.

  The shadow-like enemy had somehow caught up already.

  It had begun.

  STORK-V3

  Grimshaw and Aegis Eline hastened along the Bakura’s empty walkways toward the drop-ship hangar.