Chapter 18 #2
He compared what he now saw with their past experiences.
They’d only ventured into them as a last resort.
There was always the risk that any part they bought would be as damaged as the one they needed to replace.
A couple of times, the junk owner had attempted to cash in on the bounty on their heads.
They’d learned better, for the most part.
Once the owner had insisted on not surviving to learn.
CabeX never liked killing and had been angry about it.
Not with them but with the fool who had challenged them.
Despite the unappealing looks of both the large and small aliens, Tim felt no desire to end their lives. In his experience, most of those eking out an existence on the fringes of space were either doing their best, or doing what they’d been taught to do
The pilot of the junk flyer steered the craft low over the piles of debris, its screen working well enough for him to see the myriad of broken ships and other space debris, both below and above them. So far, he’d seen no sign of a space capable craft, certainly not one able to go into jump.
What he needed was access to some star charts. He—they needed to know where they were and how to get home.
Their shuttle had some jump capability, but it lacked the star drive that had brought them to Arroxan Prime.
They could now be years or longer, from getting back to Garradian space.
As they flew, Tim heard the big one pointing out some of his prize pieces. As the alien spoke, Tim worked his way carefully into the flyer’s systems, looking for usable data.
He had to be so careful. This place was loaded with traps and hacking devices. His head ached from being under such concentrated attack.
But he also became aware that the alien had not tried to kill him.
He’d tried to capture him.
That was troubling. Did that mean he also dealt in the slave trade? That—and, or possibly or—data mining, were the only two reasons he could think of for them to want to take him alive.
Right now, it was the alienss’ hope of securing the shuttle that kept things relatively civil, or so Tim assumed.
He lacked experience. Or did he? He’d observed many interactions of evil men during his years as a slave. Surely, he’d learned something from that time?
With some reluctance, he brought that filter online in his consciousness and began to look for familiar clues.
“None of these craft are space capable,” Tim said, hoping for a change of direction. Seeing piles of junk wasn’t helpful.
“Right, of course. I just wanted you to know we have the parts, the tech,” the big one said.
And he was stalling, hoping something would crack Tim’s systems. He turned and looked at the big one, caught him staring at Tim.
The big man started back, his eyes on Tim’s face.
Had he finally noticed Tim’s cybernetic optical?
“Take us to range four,” the big one said.
Tim felt the flyer adjust course, and he added this information into what he was collecting. He would need to be able to find his way back.
It didn’t take long, despite the clunky flyer’s jerky progress. So, they’d been close to the good stuff, Tim decided. And then he stiffened.
Ahead of him was a Q’uy vessel, one not that much unlike the Najer.
While Tim had been close to the hull, they’d been able to tap into his communications with the aliens. And they’d been able to see the attack.
Riina might be surprised by Tim’s moderate response. She had the feeling that Trac was.
“He needs intel,” Riina said. “Or we’re stuck here.”
Trac made a sound that might have been agreement.
Her console pinged with a communication from the bay.
“Yes?”
It was Dr. Walker.
“People are getting a little restless, a little agitated back here.”
This wasn’t a surprise. They’d been terrified, strapped in and terrified some more, and now they were without input about their current situation.
She wished she knew what their situation was.
She unstrapped and rose, moving to the hatch and opening it.
Faces—white strained faces—turned toward her.
“I expect you are hungry and in need of,” she felt her cheeks flush, “private time. We don’t have a lot of facilities but what we have, you can use. You’ll just need to take turns.”
Some of the faces looked relieved at the hope of getting relief. She should have thought of that. But her suit took care of those things while she had it on.
“Dr. Walker and Lira, is it?”
The woman tucked in close to the geologist nodded and for the first time, Riina saw the bird. It was perched on her shoulder. How on earth…?
“It’s T’Korrin,” Lira said. “He goes where I go.”
And then, as if to prove her wrong, it flew into the cockpit. Lira blinked.
“Mostly, he goes where I go.” And then she grinned, transforming her face.
So that’s why Dr. Walker wants her as his side-chick, Riina thought. She smiled back.
“If you could look at our supplies and distribute some nutrition and hydration packs.”
They had about ten people they could have done without. The Quendala could have accommodated them easily. It was too late to wish they’d brought the ship into atmosphere instead of the shuttle.
“What is happening?” one woman demanded, though her tone lacked real force. It was more in the range of desperate.
Riina hesitated. She didn’t want or need a riot. How much information could she safely give them? She considered them thoughtfully, really looking at them now, and not just seeing them as a bunch of humans who’d come to see aliens.
Well, they’d been brave enough to do that. Perhaps they were brave enough for as much truth as she had.
“We were scooped up by the aliens who were extracting the Vorthari from your planet. We weren’t able to communicate well enough with them to stop them leaving the system—your system—with us on board their…
ship.” Had it been a ship? She still didn’t know what the entity had been composed of.
“I believe that they dropped us here because they didn’t know what to do with us. ”
“Where is here?” This question came from the one Riina believed was Lira’s father.
She faced him. “I have no idea. All our ship’s systems but life support were down during the transit. Tim is out there right now trying to get information from the people here.”
People? They had been a kind of people. Vaguely humanoid.
“Are they friendly?” Dr. Walker asked.
Riina met his gaze and gave a tiny shake, remembering the sudden one-way fire fight.
“We’re not sure what they are,” she admitted, feeling he, and they, deserved this much truth. It wasn’t much, but then she didn’t know much.
She looked around the bay again. They had arms enough for everyone, but not protective gear. If they ended up in another fire fight, there would be casualties.
It was ironic, Kellen thought, as they dropped into real space once again, that the element they were following through jump and real space, was something they’d never encountered before.
The thought of it raised the hair on the back of his neck as he had to adjust his thoughts about what it meant to go somewhere he’d never gone before.
There were many places in the Garradian Galaxy he hadn’t visited. He’d not been there.
This wasn’t that.
He was going somewhere that might not offer a return trip, or a return trip in the lifetime of his colleagues back at Central Command.
He couldn’t have done it without Veirn, and he was fully aware how little he was contributing to the actual process. His, um, processing power was no where near that of Veirn’s.
Even though he knew he could speak, ask questions, and comment and it wouldn’t affect the AI’s ability to parse the data, he kept silent. If there was anything for him to know, Veirn would tell him. This required a new level of trust.
It was an uncomfortable level of trust, he could admit to himself. But at some deep level, he knew it was necessary, for him, for Veirn.
Even if it all went wrong, Veirn was doing its best. Kellen knew this, even as his hands clenched and unclenched in his lap.
He should get up and walk around, move his legs and arms. He’d been in this seat for far longer than normal. He was geared up, and his suit accommodated his biological functions. Or it would for a while longer.
Veirn had suggested he don the gear in case of a catastrophic breach in the hull. They were far outside any of the known star maps, traveling with jump drive alternating with the star drive when they could—which wasn’t often in completely unknown space.
“You should eat something,” Veirn said.
His stomach roiled at the thought.
“My nutritional needs are being met for now,” he said. If it went on too much longer, he would have to make adjustments to his suit’s systems. But he didn’t plan to do that while they were hurtling through unknown space.
“The traces are getting harder to follow,” Veirn said.
“I understand,” Kellen said. Did he? Possibly he understood. Their mission had always been next to impossible.
For some reason, this made him think of the Earth woman who had married Helfron Giddioni, the former Gadi Leader. Though neither of them had referred to it, Kellen suspected that the interesting Hel was a descendent of his.
And the woman he’d married, that everyone called Doc, had spoken of doing the impossible many times, if others were to be believed. Now he remembered one of her more famous—infamous?—sayings.
“The impossible just takes longer,” he said and smiled.
The flyer rocked suddenly, viciously. It was more than just a dubious engine and Tim hit the deck, though he was on his feet almost immediately, grabbing onto the back of the seat they’d wanted him to sit in, using it to steady himself.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
No one answered. It appeared that the only one strapped in on the flyer was the pilot. The big alien and the smaller alien were both scrambling to get up off the deck. The weight of their, well, weight, was making this almost impossible.