Chapter 17
Tim grabbed a hand hold, but he still felt himself flailing around. And just when he was sure they’d smash into the ground? Had they been dropped back onto the planet? Or was the thing the aliens had feared happening?
His stomach rose higher in his throat, and the buffeting seemed to increase and then…
It tapered off and they stopped falling with a small bump.
Tim’s legs dropped back to the deck with more of a bump than the shuttle.
They were somewhere, but where?
Rinna had hoped they were being returned to the planet, but the sight out of her front view screen did not look anything like the planet they’d been on.
She tried to decide what it was she was actually seeing, it was so chaotic.
As near as she could tell, it was a large space. She craned to peer up out the front view screen and thought she saw stars overhead. No, not stars. Ships. They appeared to be stationary and randomly placed. She had a sense of something vast beyond them, though she couldn’t say why.
A soft sound began to filter into the silence, and she realized it was music. For once, there were no words, but the sound fitted their surroundings. The sound of the music was also boundless and terrifying.
But at the same time, it helped her feel grounded. Was it the AI’s way of coping?
She pulled her view in from the distant to the particular. Ahead of them was a large chunk of what could have been a spacecraft. And she thought she saw more pieces scattered around.
There was nothing tidy, nothing orderly about the disposition of the debris, but it also didn’t look to her as if it had crashed here. It felt more…dumped.
There were patches of sad looking growth on the edges of what could have been a path, but she couldn’t be sure.
Her strongest impression was of a drab and bleak place, painted in the dullest of colors, other than the occasional glimpse of a faded logo on the side of a destroyed vessel.
“Veirn?” She wasn’t happy to hear the faint quiver in her voice. But it had been a rough day. A long day that didn’t look as if it were ending any time soon.
“Our scanning is once again offline,” the AI said.
There was an amazing amount of not happy in its tone.
“Is there anyone we can talk to?” Tim asked.
She knew he was casting her worried looks, in between casting worried looks outside.
Then the AI’s tone sharpened. “I have locked down all transmissions, both on board and incoming. I believe someone or something is attempting to take control of this ship.”
There was sufficient determination in Veirn’s voice to tamp down Riina’s worry that this might happen. It didn’t help with the worry that someone wanted to take control of it. Who or what out there wanted to take over their ship?
“Something is approaching,” Trac said. “I believe it is a ground flyer, but not one I’ve encountered before.”
“You don’t do a lot of ground missions,” Tim pointed out, though absently.
“True,” Trac acknowledged, “but I have read your after-mission reports and viewed your video.”
“Fair point,” Tim said.
The exchange might have made her smile at another time. This was not that time.
Now she could see the approaching flyer, and it was indeed unusual.
Most flyers she’d encountered were aerodynamic in design, so they could move easily through atmosphere with a minimum expenditure of fuel.
This one was wide, flat, blunt-nosed, with a square structure affixed to its surface like an afterthought. Its surface was a patch-work dull as the rest of the place, as if clean and tidy were abhorrent to whoever owned this place.
Its progress was less than smooth as well. It almost seemed to be bouncing its way toward them, but the bounces weren’t regular. Its approach was more that of an eager—and ugly—pet.
“That is ugly,” Lt. Dish said. “And clunky. It looks like it might crash at any minute.”
“Yes,” Riina said dryly. “Can we get a read on the outside atmosphere?”
She was starting to have a bad feeling about where they’d landed. The Garradians did not have many waste places. Their goal was always to repurpose as much as possible. And they didn’t crash ships very often, at least not in the past.
In this uncomfortable present, they were probably accumulating some damaged ships somewhere. It hadn’t been her problem.
It was Trac who was able to take readings. The ship’s systems were still on tight lockdown, she noted.
Readings appeared on her screen. Like they’d experienced inside the entity, the readings were a mix of familiar and confusing.
“Are you experiencing any of the attempted intrusions that Veirn is?” she asked. She had almost called them attacks, but that would up the level of concern and it was already pretty high.
“I am,” Trac said. “My systems are very robust.”
“Do you think they secured any data on us while we were…getting here?” she asked now.
Again, Trac would have been the only one who could have told her, assuming he’d been able to capture readings during their free fall.
“None of their sensing equipment was able to penetrate the outer skin of this shuttle,” Trac said.
Garradian ships were also very robust, Riina knew.
The approaching craft had reached them and thumped to landing just shy of the nose of the shuttle.
Rina was aware of a change in Drun’s breathing pattern. She wanted to feel sorry for him, but he had wanted to see aliens and now here he was. They could have done without him or his group right now. She was very aware of the extra burden of those lives in this situation.
A ramp jerkily lowered before slamming against a surface she decided was some kind of metal. This was not a natural place, she sensed, despite the dust or dirt cloud that rose around the ramp.
After a fraught pause, a figure began to emerge from inside the craft.
It was large, vaguely humanoid despite its rolls and rolls of what she presumed was flesh.
Its feet were naturally huge as well, and slightly splayed as the figure descended.
Its clothing was tattered and frayed, not to mention dirty.
Trousers rode low on massive hips and when it half turned she saw…
“Plumber’s butt,” Lt. Dish said. “I wish I could unsee that.”
Its shirt didn’t cover the ample stomach hanging out over the trousers and said stomach was covered with a mat of dark hair.
The figure paused to scratch at this and may have said something because other figure, smaller-in-height figure appeared.
He or she was also round with smaller rolls of flesh that even seemed to be settled around the ankles.
The companion’s clothes were as shabby and dirty as the larger figure, though thankfully, this figure didn’t present a rear view as they both walked toward the shuttle.
The larger figure pulled a large, gray square of what might be fabric out of a pocket and rubbed his glistening face.
His? She studied the face on top of the rolls and decided he did look male. It had a scruffy beard, a partially balding top of his weirdly round head, and a fringe of hair sticking out around the bald spot.
“Well,” Lt. Dish said.
When she didn’t say anything else, Riina looked back and saw her grimace.
It did seem to sum up the alien’s appearance.
The man approached their shuttle and stopped, putting his hands on his ample hips—she presumed they were in their somewhere—and tipped his head back.
His eyes were rheumy, red, and a kind of muddy brown.
He rubbed his face with the cloth again and Riina realized it was illuminated with some kind of light that didn’t seem natural.
“Can we hear what he’s saying?” Tim asked.
There was a pause. It wasn’t a surprise. Veirn was in severe lockdown mode.
Then a voice came through the speaker. She couldn’t understand anything but one word.
Garradian.
He had recognized the shuttle. That was interesting, possibly encouraging. Or terrifying. She wasn’t sure which.
“I am working on a translation,” Veirn said, as if anticipating the question. “Their language is not completely unfamiliar.”
Did the AI sound as relieved as this made her feel? It was possibly unreasonable to feel relieved at all. They appeared to have been dropped into an alien dumping depot.
Laws of salvage were different in each system and galaxy. But most laws only went into effect when everyone on board was dead.
That could be good. Or it could be bad. It all depended on the ethics of the two out there.
And they didn’t look wildly ethical, not if the gleam of avarice in the big one’s eyes were an indication. But looks could be deceiving. Case in point, the former cyborg and the cyborg in their cockpit. First contact with them had been terrifying and fraught.
“I believe I’m beginning to understand them,” Veirn said. “They are discussing the salvage of this shuttle and how long it will take to breach its systems.”
Sometimes it wasn’t wonderful to be correct.
“We will need to talk to them,” Riina said.
Tim’s head jerked her direction.
“No, I’m not volunteering,” she reassured him.
“Humans,” Trac said, “could survive in the outside atmosphere, but it would not be comfortable, and they shouldn’t stay out there for an extended period of time.”
Riina might be relieved to learn this. She should probably be excited about yet another first contact.
She wasn’t.
For some reason, perhaps an imp of mischief she didn’t know she was capable of, caused her to look at Drun.
He met her gaze, his eyes widening in alarm.
“I can’t…” he began.
She took pity on him. “No one thinks you should.”
“No one,” Tim agreed.
He might have looked affronted at this, but he was too relieved.
“What does our power level look like?” Tim asked.
She was pretty sure he was thinking of the airlock. There was no way they were going to lower the ramp.
But if this went on for too long? What then? The shuttle had some emergency supplies and Harold had come onboard with the supplies he’d taken from the flyers he’d broken into, but how long would it last?
So much depended on just how much trouble they were in.
Tim’s head turned. Their eyes met. She didn’t know how, but she was sure he shared her thoughts. Her worries.
“Start working with Veirn and,” Tim’s gaze flicked to Lt. Dish, “the lieutenant in assessing our resources. I will go talk to them.”
“I should go,” Trac objected.
Tim’s gaze went forward, surveying the outside.
“I have a feeling this human shouldn’t get a look at you unless we can help it,” he said.
“But you,” Riina began. He had cyborg implants, visible ones.
“Who else? Do we send Dr. Walker out there? Or one of the Arroxan Prime humans?”
He had a point.
“I don’t like it,” she said.
“I don’t like anything about this situation,” Tim said. And then he smiled at her. “So, we have to find a way out of it.”
Tim hadn’t taken his gear off after his last egress, so he didn’t have much to do to get ready. In fact, all he needed to do was secure his head gear.
There were things he wished he could do.
Kiss Riina.
Tell her…it was not the best time to realize that he had strong, unfamiliar feelings for her. Was it love?
He hadn’t even known what that meant when his shipmates had used that word.
Love.
Now he might know.
But she didn’t know.
And he didn’t have time to tell her.
Here he was, going out to try to save their lives, not by breaking things or shooting things—at least not yet. No, he was being tasked with talking.
His worst skill
Trac, to his relief, helped him secure his head gear and then slapped him on the back.
The slap knocked him into the bulkhead, but it was the thought that counted. He flexed his shoulder and said, over a feed just between them.
“Take care of Riina.”
The robot’s gaze met his. He shouldn’t have felt or seen emotion there. He wasn’t actually sure he did see it. But he knew Trac understood.
This time the slap to his shoulder was restrained. It only knocked him back a couple of steps.
Tim gave his friend a nod. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t look back and go forward.
Trac opened the hatch. Tim stepped through and it closed behind him. It closed between them.
Riina.
His heart felt tight in his chest. Feelings. These were feelings. He didn’t like them. But…without them, he wouldn’t know how important this was. He had to save her.
The bay came alive with questions and comments. He ignored them all. The only one not asking was Dr. Walker.
For reasons, Tim didn’t understand, Dr. Walker joined Tim at the airlock controls. For some reason the avian was on his shoulder.
Tim looked at it.
“This is T’Korrin,” Dr. Walker said, as if that explained everything.
Tim nodded and the bird nodded back. Okay, then, he turned to the hatch control and activated the routine to equalize the pressure.
Dr. Walker waited with Tim until he could step inside, and the hatch closed between them.
Inside, he felt the weight off their expectations, their hopes, their lives, settle on his human shoulders. They’d have been easier to carry without the human body, but…would he have carried them properly? Didn’t he need to know to do this?
He shifted his shoulders, telling himself that the action spread the weight, made it bearable. And then the hatch opened in front of him and he stepped out.
“I believe I’ve been able to isolate their jump trail, Captain,” Veirn said.
“Enough to follow it?” Kellen rubbed his tired face. It felt like he’d been awake for all of his life. He’d never lost any of his people on a mission before. He didn’t like it.
There was a hesitation. It was long enough to make Kellen look up at the camera over his station.
“Veirn?”
“I can’t guarantee we will be able to follow it, Captain. It is…a long shot.”
Kellen paused, then glanced around his empty bridge. It was him. It was Veirn. If they went home now…
“Let’s try,” he said. He had to try.
“I agree.”
Kellen hadn’t asked, but he was glad the AI had said it.
They had to try.