“On that note,”
Doctor Messana said as she seemed to appear in the doorway. “It’s
lights out. You start physical therapy tomorrow morning.” She
walked on, looking down at something she was reading on an old
fashioned touch pad.
“I’ll see you
tomorrow, Alice will be here when you wake up,” Ayan said, kissing
him lightly. Her pillow-y soft lips lingered a moment before she
hesitantly stood and left.
He laid there for a few
moments longer, going over the events of the evening. He’d seen
everyone who he considered important to him, with only one exception,
Oz. He’d lost track of all the other people who cycled through the
room.
It was easier to name
the people who were conspicuously absent. Oz sent him a warm message,
but could not leave the Triton, which was understandable. What Jake
found slightly alarming was the absence of anyone from the British
Alliance. He tried not to let it bother him, but he was sure there
was something he was forgetting.
A pair of Uriel
Fighters drifted along their patrol route around Kambis. The blue,
green and brown ball of Tamber was well distant, a dot on the horizon
of its more darkly surfaced parent. Minh-Chu Buu, or Ronin as he was
known to his Fighter wing, Samurai Squadron, waved at it as it winked
out of sight. They were crossing over to the dark side of Kambis, a
looming giant that had once been the target of an incredible effort,
complete environmental terraforming.
Hundreds of years
before, people had begun digging deep canyons into the planet and
removing the matter from it entirely in order to reduce its mass,
stabilize the surface and reduce the worlds’ gravity. They began
another terraforming effort at the same time on Tamber, which was
already a near match for Earth’s gravity. Oxygenating the
environment and transplanting life was easier there, it was estimated
that results were seen in decades instead of centuries. That is why
the contemporary belief was that the life on Tamber was to be used to
seed the world it orbited, Kambis.
The people who
originally started the process got as far as freeing the water
trapped under Kambis’ surface and oxygenating the atmosphere. They
finished their work on Tamber, leaving a moon teeming with wild life
by the time the Omnivirus killed most if not all of them. There were
structures left behind on Kambis that people still marvelled at, but
Minh-Chu had only seen the ones visible from orbit. He knew better
than to risk a visit to the smaller planet bound wonders.
The cities of that
giant world were all contained in domes with gravity control. Most of
them perched on cliffs, or were wedged into the bottoms of canyons,
and despite the attempts of Carthan and then British Alliance
authorities to tame them, they remained wild and dangerous. None of
those places were under the control of governments, but gangs and the
others, who called themselves New Lords. The night side of Kambis
came up, and the sparse lights of those cities decorated the
landscape, along with patches of absolute blackness, canyons that
were so deep that the scant light on the night side of the world was
not at all evident. Even still, they were the most frequent trade
partners with Tamber settlements, including Haven Shore. Within those
havens for crime were traders, some of whom were honest, most of whom
were somewhere between that and criminal. Many of them were necessary
trading partners.
The shadow cast by
Kambis submerged Ronin’s barely lit cockpit in inky black. The
distant lights of ships seemed distant and solitary.
“Hey, Ronin,”
Joyboy, Ronin’s wingman for that patrol, called over their short
range communications. “I’ve gotta admit something to you, man.”
“What’s that,
Joyboy?” Ronin asked, bracing himself.
“When I saw you on
the roster for this patrol, I traded to get the spot as your
Wingman,” he said.
“Oh,” Ronin
replied, relieved. “I thought you were going to tell me that Paula
told you that her bouncing baby boy was actually mine.”
“Uh, no, that’s not
funny.”
“Well, you know she
could have stolen some genetic material, bribed someone in Triton
medical to-“
“Nope, Jim is
completely mine and hers, man.”
“Well, you know, he
does look a bit-“
“Still not funny,”
Joyboy said.
Ronin laughed, he’d
forgotten how easy it was to wind Joyboy up. “I’m just kidding.
I’m really happy for both of you.”
“The kid really has
mellowed her out, she’s pretty amazing now,” Joyboy said. “You
and Ashley thinking about having one?”
“No!” Ronin
replied, surprising himself with how quickly the response came.
“Wow, had that one
locked and loaded,” Joyboy chuclked. “Something wrong?”
“We’re just
enjoying the early part of our thing together. Ash gets to exercise
her maternal instincts on Zoe, and we babysit.”
“Early part of your
thing? You guys have been together almost a year, haven’t you?”
Joyboy said.
“Hey, your
relationship with Paula went faster than light, doesn’t mean Ashley
and I don’t get to have some fun before settling in,” Ronin
replied. “We have attended three weddings in the last six weeks
though, so we might be headed there.”
“You guys really are
that serious? It’s hard to tell, I mean people see you’re crazy
about each other, but there’s no public displays or anything. I
know three guys in the Skyguard who have serious ambitions for her,
if you know what I mean.”
“Names, now,” Ronin
said in his best intimidating tone.
Joyboy laughed, “You
won’t get anything out of me. Seriously, though, you two have to
make more appearances, like at the Oota Galoona, or something, and
make a date out of it or something.”
“Look at you with the
relationship advice,” Ronin said.
“Hey, Paula really is
planning our wedding, you’re invited, by the way. I don’t know if
Ashley is, though. Paula still thinks she’s an airhead who likes to
take her clothes off.”
“We’ll think about
it, but if Ashley isn’t coming, neither am I,” Ronin replied.
“Maybe when Jake’s on his feet the Warlord crew will hit Oota
Galoona and the Pilot’s Den. Call it another step in his physical
therapy, dancing, imbibing, more dancing, maybe some falling.”
“How is he doing? All
I heard was that he survived whatever happened aboard that Order
ship,” Joyboy asked.
“There’s an
expression that Frost uses; ‘That man’s made of miracles,’”
Ronin said, doing his best imitation of the grizzled Gunnery Chief.
“Hey, that was pretty
good,” Joyboy said.
“Thank you, I
practice,” Ronin replied. “Anyway, I’m starting to believe it
too, but I think it had more to do with the Warlord’s new doctor. A
couple med techs I’ve met were pretty quick to mention that they
didn’t approve of her methods whenever they were near someone who
would listen, but the results are good, so I’m not one to argue.”
“Why? Did the new Doc
think too far outside the box or something?”
“I’m no expert, so
I don’t know, but I’ve heard people call her a butcher more than
once. Either way, that woman deserves credit. Jake was almost walking
after waking up from recovery, and there’s not a scar on him. He’s
a little taller, and looks like he took on a lot of muscle, but he’s
got functional hand-eye coordination, maybe even better, strength,
and a full range of motion. Pretty good for a man with a body that
was grown in pieces and put together in a day.”
“Wow, that’s
amazing. There’s almost a full blackout about the how and why of
what happened to him through the fleet, so thanks for sharing. I was
worried. I know I bitched about service on the Warlord sometimes
while I was still there, but I’ll follow him anywhere.”
“You and me both,”
Ronin said. He knew that whatever he shared with Joyboy would be
spread across the fleet by morning, and it would permeate Haven Shore
by the end of the week. The opportunity was too good to pass up.
“Between you, me and our flight recorders, I have to say it looks
like this whole rebirth has made Jake better in the head too. He hurt
his face from grinning at his Welcome Back To Life party, and Ayan
says he’s easier to be around, more present.”
“Really? Man, maybe
that framework tech was doing something,” Joyboy concluded.
“Maybe, but no one
knows for sure, so keep it quiet,” Ronin said.
“Yeah, no problem.”
He was sure Joyboy
wouldn’t. Tales of the Warlord Captain grinning from ear to ear
would be everywhere before long.
“So, is Samurai
Squadron going to be based on the Triton when we leave for the
Ironhead Nebula?” Joyboy asked.
“I can’t say,”
Ronin replied. “It depends on whether or not the Warlord is going
to be part of the battle group.”
“Oh, man, that would
be cool. The Triton
and
the
Warlord.”
A warning appeared on
Ronin’s tactical system. The overlay in his helmet displayed an
energy spike and indications of a decelerating ship headed for
Kambis. It was already past the outer boundaries of the Rega Gain
solar system. “Power up, we have incoming.”
“I see it, Triton
Flight Deck sees it too,” Joyboy replied.
The Uriel Fighters’
systems lit up, their thrusters pulsed as they got ready to
manoeuvre. The projected displays in Ronin’s cockpit showed a
summary of communications between the Triton’s Flight Deck, British
Alliance Control, and Haven Shore on his right hand side. To the left
the greater galaxy was represented, with listings for nearby objects,
incoming ships and missions that could affect his situation. In front
of him his fighter’s solid state displays told him everything he
needed to know about his and his wingman’s ship, while the
projected display over top of that provided all tactical data, and a
shortened version of his current orders. His navigational assistant
was also included in the overlay, showing nearby navnet routes for
other ships, the course he and his wingman were supposed to follow on
patrol, his actual position, mission timer, threats and gravity
fields. A long red spike across his display showed the expected
trajectory of the incoming craft. “Local Navnet has already
assigned alternative routes to ships in our area,” Ronin said.
“That’s coming in fast, it’ll be here in fifty three seconds.
We will be the closest ships.”
“Is that a good
thing?” Joyboy asked.
“It’s decelerating
fast enough so it won’t make it to Kambis, but it’s transmitted
no header or warning signal,” Ronin reported. He saw the British
Alliance Control Centre hand all responsibility for the incoming
craft to Triton Fleet, and shook his head. “Yup, some help they
are.”
“I’m overhearing
the British Alliance ordering their patrol ships out of the area,”
Joyboy said.
“This is Triton
Flight,” said Ensign Dunbar, one of the communications officers
aboard the Triton. “We have determined that the new ship in the
region is a high speed Korin Industries Spaceliner. The wormhole
trajectory suggests she departed Hosanna Station nine days ago. The
helm is on autopilot, and has acknowledged our Navnet signal, so she
will be entering high orbit around Kambis. You are to flank the
spaceliner, scan it and await further orders.”
An image of the one
hundred and five metre long ship appeared on Ronin’s main display
as he and Joyboy began their approach, firing their engines at the
rapidly decelerating ship. It had crossed the threshold from its
wormhole into normal space, and continuing to slow down along the
course sent to it by Triton’s Navnet. “Acknowledged, beginning
our approach.”
Joyboy and Ronin stayed
in formation as they accelerated towards the starliner. As he began
decelerating and moving into position, Ronin couldn’t help but
admire the smooth, long lines of the ship’s designs. Her quad
rotary thrusters were cooling at the rear of the craft, while pot
manoeuvring thrusters fired sporadically, making minor corrections to
her course and position. “I can confirm, there is no human on the
stick in that starliner,” Ronin said.
“How do you figure?”
Joyboy said.
Ronin began his sensor
sweep of the ship while he explained. “Almost all pilots make major
course corrections then smaller touches after, so you can see the
manoeuvring thrusters firing for a couple seconds at a time.
Automated pilots make minor adjustments sooner, and they’re
typically programmed to save fuel, so you see these quick pops and
pulses from the thrusters instead.”
“Unless you’re
watching Ronin,” Joyboy said. “You only give your ship the thrust
it needs, you don’t waste anything if you can help it.”
“Why thank you,”
Ronin said as he watched the detailed scan data come in. He read the
raw feed instead of paying attention to the computer’s
interpretation.
“I’m saying you fly
like a robot,” Joyboy said.
“That is not nice,”
Ronin replied. “I fly artfully, like a stone skipping across water,
or a fish in a pond.”
“Like a drone on long
patrol,” Joyboy added.
Ronin knew his wingman
was just trying to get a rise out of him, and shook his head. “The
law of the good space farer: Only use the space, the energy, the
food, water and air you need. Oh, and always be courteous first.”
“Wow, never heard
that one,” Joyboy said.
“Something they
taught us on Freeground, I don’t remember a time when-“ Ronin
stopped as he saw that all the systems on the spaceliner were
operating except for life support. There were six hundred and nine
corpses aboard, and a pair of faint life readings. “You seeing
this?”
“It’s another ghost
ship,” Joyboy replied. “Fifth one this month.”
“No, this one’s
strange. The others finished their deceleration cycle and went dead
outside the solar system, this one was programmed to land right on
our doorstep. It would have to be for the emergency deceleration
system to be overridden, and the emergency beacon is dead, like it’s
not there at all.” Ronin checked the fuel readings and the
responses the spaceliner’s computer was giving his fighter.
“Communication is completely shut down, and this spaceliner should
have enough fuel to go on to a few more systems before it needs to
refuel, but there’s nothing but fumes in the tanks.”